Chapter 2: An Oath at Dawn

Regis had fallen into a deep slumber.

He could hear a voice right beside him. It was impossible to separate dream from reality, but the voice definitely belonged to a young girl.

“He’s not getting up at all. You think he’s dead?”

“Fufufu... He’s just tired, Princess. Let him have his sleep. There aren’t any urgent jobs for him right now.”

“...Hmph. Very well.”

He was still far from waking. He listened to the chit-chat of the two girls... or at least, that was what he intended on doing before he was smacked awake by a deep, manly yell.

“Grr-ah!!”

“...Hrm?” He opened his eyes.

An unfamiliar ceiling rested above him—a plain, undecorated ashen ceiling of stone arches. Their gentle curves carried right along into the stone walls. A cellar or a prison? he thought absentmindedly.

Regis had been sleeping in a bed in the furthest depths of the room. He could touch the craggy stone wall just by reaching out his left hand.

A small window had been carved into it, which had been left wide open for the time being. Through it, sunlight poured in from outside.

He could hear the fervent cries of men from not too far off.

“Hrr-ah!!”

Were the soldiers training? He could hear the swish of practice swings and the thump of feet on the earth.

“Oh... That’s right...”

I was demoted and cast aside to Fort Sierck—Regis’s brain began its wake-up procedure.

The soft bed was heaven compared to the carriage of the merchant caravan, and with the previous night’s events still fresh in his mind, he was thankful just to be alive.

“...It’s already morning,” he groaned.

“Urr-ah!!”

The heavy cries again. Regis covered his ears.

“Is it... going to be like this every day? That’s quite the harsh awakening...”

He slowly lifted his body. The previous night he had been almost frozen solid upon reaching the fort. He recalled being granted a bath to use and being told he could use this room, but had no recollection of anything after that.

He took another look around the room. It was wide enough to accommodate four beds with accompanying desks. There was a single support pillar in the center. If he had to take a guess, Regis suspected that the room could have housed ten rank-and-file soldiers, if necessary. At the very least, he knew it was enough for four low-ranking officers such as himself.

Despite that, there was only the one bed by the wall. Beside it, a splendid desk that made him question if someone had mistaken his rank, and beyond that, a luxury he’d thought he would never see again: a bookshelf. The stretch from the bed to the doorway remained empty, boasting enough space for another six large bookshelves.

This all made him more anxious than delighted.

“Are there open rooms because we’re out in the country? But the fort doesn’t seem any more spacious than the others... Don’t tell me they really have mistaken my rank.”

A fifth-grade administrative officer was ten spots from the top. Field marshal, general, lieutenant general, major general, brigadier general—those five ranks were the commissioned officers. The remaining officers were divided between administration and combat with first-grade, second-grade and third-grade administrative officers being senior non-commissioned officers. After that came the junior non-commissioned officers, fourth-grade to sixth.

In short, fifth grade for an administrative officer put him second from the bottom.

On a side note, the ranks for common soldiers were trooper, trooper first-class and head trooper. Even the lowest trooper enjoyed decent treatment and wages in the empire’s regular army. Conscripted farmers and underaged apprentices, on the other hand, essentially worked for free.

Therefore, concluded Regis, as second from the bottom, I was presumably issued this vast room by mistake.

“I need to get someone to lead me to my proper room... Oh, come to think of it, who’s my commanding officer?” A senior administrative officer was supposed to direct him and show him the ropes. He hadn’t met them yet.

Regis stripped off his pajamas. Despite the fact that he was indoors and in broad daylight, he could feel the unpleasant cold brush his skin—a stark reminder he had ventured to the northern front.

He passed his arms through the sleeves of the mint-condition uniform that had been left on the desk. While the Belgarian army uniform consisted of a gaudy array of blue, red and white, the border regiment wore a much plainer deep green, closer to black. The thick material and numerous pockets made for quite a practical ensemble.

“I see they put some thought into it, as expected of the front lines.”

And just as he had finished changing, someone came to get him—

“...Or not. Looks like I should get to searching on my own,” he said as he left the room.

Beyond the door, a stone hall extended to both his left and right. It was a narrow, gently curving corridor that could just barely fit two people walking side by side, regularly dotted with wooden doors.

He walked down the left passage for the time being and out into the courtyard.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Frr-ah!!” The throaty voices cried out again.

Surrounded by stone buildings, the courtyard was a parade ground whose soil had been trampled until it was as hard as stone. Thirty-odd soldiers practiced swinging their swords in unison.

Before the lines of soldiers stood a conspicuously larger warrior. He was a burly man swinging a fauchard, whose hulking muscles shot sweat every which way with every flex. As far as Regis could see, he looked to be about forty and boasted a bald head and an abundant black beard.

It was so cold Regis was silently wishing for a scarf, yet this man had no restraint in showing off his scar-ridden torso, steam rising from his whole body.

Upon noticing Regis, the man broke into a broad smile.

“Mn! So you’re up, young one!” he boomed.

The robust young men training continued their cries of “Grr-ah!!” and “Urr-ah!!” They were similarly topless, sweaty, and letting off clouds of vapor.

The bald-headed man thrust out his polearm.

“All right! Come and swing this with us! Your spirits will shoot up in no time! Swing and swing and strike through the wind! Wa-hahahah!”

Regis winced. “N-No... I’m a civil officer, so swords and spears are a bit beyond me... But, that aside, you’re the knight who saved us yesterday, aren’t you?”

The man eagerly nodded in response.

“Indeed. I am Everard de Blanchard, first-grade combat officer. Knight captain of the Beilschmidt border regiment!”

“Regis Aurick, fifth-grade administrative officer. You have my deepest gratitude... You really saved us out there.”

“Wa-hahah! Just when I thought I hadn’t seen the princess in a while, I discover she’d gone off to town dressed as a cab driver. And with all the recent bandit attacks, too! Shaved a few years off my life, that did.”

“Hahaha... You’re telling me.”

To think the coachman would be the imperial princess and his commander.

“Of course, our princess would wipe out any bandits who dared cross her path.”

“Yeah... She’s strong.”

“She’s our goddess!”

Once Everard had finished, his men nodded, ringing out an enthusiastic, “Yep! She’s a goddess!” in response. Regis had no idea what was going on.

“I’m pretty sure she’s a princess...?”

“She’s a goddess!”

“...Oh, come to think of it, I remember reading about those in the north who believe in the Goddess of Victory, La Victoire.”

“Yes! Truly a goddess!”

“I see...”

Idolatry was strictly prohibited by the church, so such notions could only be entertained far out on the border. Perhaps the strict teachings of the holy church were unable to endure the 100 lieue (444 km) trek.

It certainly wasn’t surprising for the soldiers on the battlefield to see her small arms swinging that massive sword and conclude that something divine was at play.

“I hear she scattered a pack of gray wolves with a single swing! Splendid, splendid! Waah-hahah... Cough, hack hack!”

Everard laughed so hard he choked, his young subordinates showing off jovial smiles of their own.

“Wa-hahah!” they followed in a heroic chorus.

Thankful as he was, Regis wasn’t particularly comfortable with such brazen displays of masculinity.

“Haha... Well, then, I’ll just be off...” He attempted retreat when—

“Hold up!” Everard called him to a stop. His large polearm against his shoulder, he slowly lumbered his way over. His breath grew rough as his face closed in.

“I’ll ask just in case.”

“What could it be?”

“You haven’t done anything strange to the princess, have you?”

The look in his subordinates’ eyes suddenly changed. A blood vessel surfaced atop Everard’s bald head.

“Strange?” Regis stepped back.

“She was acting funny yesterday. No funny business, eh!?”

“I didn’t do anything... Just a bit of chit-chat.”

“What kinda chit-chat are we talking here!?”

“Well, just some rumors from the capital and such...”

Bothered exchanges could be heard among the young men.

“Rumors of the capital, ‘e says.”

“Got to be rumors about that social world or whatnot.”

“Out here, the only rumors I get are about ‘ow many potaters were pulled and ‘ow the old cow ‘ad a calf...”

“That ain’t no rumor.”

“God dammit, those city slickers really piss me off!”

“The capital can go suck it!”

He felt as though his wellbeing was suddenly in great danger. Everard was growing ever so slightly closer, almost a hair’s breadth away from being close enough to plant a kiss.

“Hmm! She was acting as merry as my daughter after her first date! What did you do!?”

“Hold on, hold on! I just told her about Fourth Princess Marie Quatre’s reputation in the capital and the politics surrounding it. Like hell I’m going to hit on a child in the first place... I mean, I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve never even held a girl’s hand before!”

Silence.

The noise was gone. Nothing remained. It was all over.

Everard’s lips twisted into a serene smile, like that of a saint from a painting. His trainees followed suit, bearing the faces of angels about to preach the sanctity of love.

“Stay strong, young man.”

“It’ll all work out someday.”

“Keep fighting the good fight.”

I don’t need your sympathy, thought Regis. Turning his back to the unwarranted gentle encouragement, he felt for some reason like the remnant of a defeated army as he left the suffocating courtyard behind him.

Regis returned to the corridor, this time proceeding to the right of his bedroom.

✧ ✧ ✧

There was humming in the air.

“Hmm~♪ Hm, hmm~♪”

“Huh?”

The door leading to the noise had been left wide open. He peeked in to find quite a spacious room. There were eight long tables lined with roughly fifty seats.

“Is this the officers’ dining room...?”

The rustic feeling of the stone walls remained, but there were vases in the corners decorated with fresh flowers giving him a sense of some consideration for elegance.

A lone maid wiped down one table with a rag. She was the one who was humming.

She was wearing a rouge maid dress with a white apron, and her brown hair bundled behind her head swung to the rhythm of the tune. She was around the same age as Regis; a charming woman whose hazel eyes left a lasting impression.

Both her hair and skin seemed a little too glossy for someone tasked to do the dirty work.

“Mmm~♪ Hm-hmm~♪ La, lalalaaa~♪ The maid in cinders told the mice~♪ The castle has a ball tonight~♪”

She had broken into song, though it was obvious to the ears that she was more than a little off key.

She twirled, knocking food scraps off the table. It was hard to determine whether she was actually cleaning or just dancing.

Their eyes met. Upon noticing Regis standing in the doorway, she froze.

The song had stopped. Regis could feel the awkwardness building.

“H-Hey... That was a nice song...”

“Huh? Are you for real!? So it moved your very heart and soul!?”

“Wait, I never said it moved me—”

“It’s a huge hit. It’s really been gaining popularity lately.”

“Has it really? I’ve never heard it before... Where is it popular? In the town of Theonveil, or just this fort?”

“Eh? It’s popular in my heart!”

“So just with you!”

“I made it up just now.”

“Is this really what you’d call the latest trend!?”

Ignoring Regis’s retort, the maid started to explain the song with a smile.

“Ufufu... It’s a story about a maid who receives terrible abuse from a vile master, when one day her fairy godmother shows up. Very romantic, you know.”

I’ve definitely read that fairytale, Regis thought, nodding along.

“And then she uses her magic to let her go to the ball, right?” he asked.

“Eh? What are you talking about? She uses offensive magic to tear the vile master to shreds.”

“Where’s the romance in that!? That’s a pretty conspicuous use of magic, too. Are you by any chance discontent with your current treatment?”

Magic was a product of fiction that only existed within the pages of books, so he gathered she was being facetious. That being said, he couldn’t help but feel something dark lurking beneath the tale.

“Ahaha, you’ve got it all wrong. The princess is a good kid, and while war is scary the fort is pretty safe. I just don’t have any hope for the future.” She laughed dryly.

For a maid, she had a very sharp tongue.

“Let me introduce myself.” She curtseyed politely. “I am the princess’s personal maid, Clarisse. Please address me as ‘Oi’ or ‘That wench.’”

“I definitely won’t be doing that! Hah... Please pardon me in addressing you as Ms. Clarisse. My name is Regis Aurick.”

“Oh, Regis! I’ve heard loads about you from the princess.”

“You have? What did you hear?”

“You let her use the only blanket in the middle of a blizzard, you shared your only roll of bread, and you stood bravely against a pack of gray wolves. I think that’s wonderful.”

“Wow... You’re making me blush. ...Anything else?”

“Your sword skills are worse than those of a child, and you are completely devoid of resource management skills to the extent that you’d spend your entire salary on books if left unchecked.”

“Ouch. Sorry.” He regretted asking.

Clarisse smiled with seemingly no ill intent.

“So, do you have any business with me? I’m actually pretty busy, you know. ...Aha, just kidding!” She probably had no ill intent. Probably.

“...Do you know who my commanding officer is, by chance?”

“I don’t really get informed about that sorta thing.”

“I see... In that case, do you know where Altina—ah, sorry—where the princess is right now?”

“Fufu... I’ve already heard about the nickname, don’t you worry about that. Oh, but please be careful using it around people other than the princess and myself.”

“Is that how it works? As I thought... Is it rare for her to allow someone to use her nickname?”

I should be especially cautious around those knights in the courtyard, he thought.

“She’d probably grant me the privilege if I asked... The only other person I know of who uses it is her mother.”

That was even fewer people than he’d anticipated. Regis was more bewildered than delighted by the fact.

“But... Why—?”

“You’re asking why the princess has no friends? I’d say that’s down to her personality.”

“You really are virulent... That’s not what I meant. Why did she permit me to use her nickname? As royalty, perhaps she is unaccustomed to people asking for her name, but she should have been expecting it while dressed up as a coachman. I highly doubt I’m the first commoner she’s ever met...”

Clarisse tilted her head.

“I couldn’t tell you what goes through her head, but... don’t you think she thought of you as a confidant of sorts? Despite how she looks, she’s in a surprisingly harsh position, after all.”

“A confidant...”

“Yes. The only other would be her mother.”

“D-Did I do anything to earn that level of trust...?”

Regis reflected on his meeting with the red-haired girl. She had declared he was an idiot when he spent a fortune on a book—did that have anything to do with it?

“Well, you make plenty of mistakes when you’re young.” Clarisse dismissively waved her hand with a laugh.

“Wait, did you just conclude that her placing trust in me was little more than a mistake of youth? I can’t really prove otherwise, but isn’t that a bit hasty!?”

“Just kidding, Mr. Regis! You react to every little thing I say, so I couldn’t help but see how far I could push your buttons!”

“Please don’t tease me...”

“Whenever I try and chat about her with Everard and his men, it’s always just, ‘Right! Truly a goddess.’ Talk about a boring answer.”

“Yeah, he did give off that kind of impression...”

Regis gave a wry smile as he recalled the topless knight commander shedding sweat in the courtyard. The image also made him realize how far the conversation had been derailed, so he asked again where he could find Altina.

“She went out, though she should be back soon,” Clarisse said with a glance at the clock on the wall.

“Outside the fort? I suppose she won’t be back any time soon if she went to town. Given her diligent attitude, I doubt she went off to play... Is she out hunting or on recon?”

“Something like that. By the way—everyone’s already had breakfast, Mr. Regis, but how about you?”

“I appreciate it. Truth be told, I’m so hungry I almost feel on the verge of collapsing.”

“Oh really? What a terrible situation you’re in. Such a pity, especially when there’s so long to go till lunch...”

“Was that not where you were supposed to offer me breakfast!?”

“Ahaha. Fine, very well. I’ll make an exception.”

While Clarisse appeared to do nothing but mess around, she was seemingly quite skilled at her job—it didn’t take long before she was back with food: soft bread and chicken stew. Quite luxurious, considering this was the front lines.

“This is a pleasant surprise...”

“Take your time.” Leaving with a smile, Clarisse returned to her own work. She hummed her tune while sweeping the floor.

Regis took his time, savoring the taste of his meal.

✧ ✧ ✧

Just as he was finishing his late breakfast, Altina popped her face into the dining hall.

“Oh, Regis. Looks like you’re still kicking. Good on you.”

“Thanks to you.”

She wasn’t dressed as a coachman today, nor was she carrying her treasured sword. She wore a white, fanciful one-piece dress, minimally armored with arm and shoulder guards. Her long red hair was braided behind her while a normal longsword hung at her waist.

She carried a snow-white overcoat under her arm, which her maid Clarisse took with a curtsey.

“Welcome back, Princess.”

“Thank you, Clarisse. Could you brew some tea?”

“Of course.”

After another curtsey, the maid made for the kitchen with almost silent steps. She was acting, surprisingly, like a proper maid.

Altina lowered herself down into the seat across from Regis.

“Hah, it was hopeless...”

“I heard you went out.”

“I was patrolling the highway. Bandits have been targeting our caravans for a while now.”

“Come to think of it, I heard about that a few times on my trip here. You’re more likely to get attacked the further you are from the capital.”

The worsening of public order on the highway was causing a steep increase in the price of goods near the border. A high cost was required to cover the value of missing goods and hired guards.

“We’re getting more complaints from peddlers and citizens.”

“Does this have anything to do with the rumor that some barbarians slipped through?”

“Who can say? We haven’t seen heads or tails of them. They could be anyone for all we know. Even if we utilized every soldier in this fort, it’d be impossible to guard every caravan.”

“And yet the commander herself is on patrol from this early in the morning, when you’d be the coldest and sleepiest? That should be the least desirable timeslot.”

“Precisely. Because everyone detests it, the commander should take the initiative.”

“Oh... You’re quite something.”

“Though it’s not like I want to do it, either. Those bandits can all go to hell.”

“Can’t disagree with that.”

After all, books would be significantly cheaper if the roads became safer to navigate.

Altina spent some time slamming her full range of colorful vocabulary against these shapeless bandits. Once the well had run dry, Regis changed the topic.

“On another note, I’d like to greet my direct superior. Do you know who that is? Has it not been decided yet?”

“Your direct superior... would be an administrative officer above yourself, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“Then you don’t have one.”

“Huh? You mean there aren’t any who want me?”

“No, I mean there aren’t any administrative officers in this fort. That is, apart from you.”

At first, Regis failed to comprehend what she had just said. He was momentarily stunned.

“...Beg... your... pardon?” He finally managed to squeeze out some words.

“This regiment was originally under the command of General Margrave Jerome Jean de Beilschmidt and, half a year ago, he chased them all out.”

“W-What is the meaning of this!? A war can’t be fought with combat officers alone... Who’s managing finance and logistics? Battle records and reports? Tax collection and submission?”

“The margrave’s steward is taking care of it.”

A steward was an employee tasked with managing a noble’s territory. They took care of the taxes and the distribution of goods, along with employment and the salaries of servants. As their role often included fulfilling the duties of an accountant, it wasn’t unusual to trust them with huge amounts of paperwork.

“But still, he must have quite the excellent steward. As expected of a margrave, I guess. Is the steward a former administrative officer?”

Military paperwork was uniquely convoluted. It had taken two years of military school for Regis to finally get it down.

While Regis was genuinely impressed, Altina shook her head.

“The reports are full of mistakes. We get angry letters back from the department every month. We’ve even had an inspector sent over.”

“What!? Impossible... Is this really a part of the Belgarian Imperial Army?”

“It was originally Sir Jerome’s personal army, or so I’ve heard.”

“Come to think of it, I might have read about that in a book. I had some time to spare after my demotion, so I did a bit of digging.”

“...You really are strange. Normally, the last thing you’d want to do after a demotion is start looking into your new boss.”

“Is that how you felt?”

“No, I... have a goal...” Altina was at a rare loss for words.

He had sensed it yesterday as well; she seemed to be hiding something. However, the fact that she wouldn’t say what meant she had made the conscious decision to keep it secret. Regis wasn’t one to pursue the matter any further.

“I already knew about the legend of Sir Jerome through books and rumors... but I never heard anything about him chasing out administrative officers. Did something happen?”

“I did ask... but he wouldn’t tell me. Sir Jerome despises me, after all.”

“He despises you?”

Altina nodded weakly.

“If an amateur little girl became your commander as the result of a power struggle that had absolutely nothing to do with you, would you not harbor feelings of resentment toward her?”

“So that’s why...”

It wasn’t rare for a newly appointed commander to be at odds with the one who previously led the unit. Under normal circumstances, the former leader would be transferred elsewhere, but Altina was a novice, and Fort Sierck was a key strategic point on the northern front—her appointment may have been by imperial decree, but no military authority would do anything as stupid as removing Jerome from the base.

“If the regiment was operating normally and protecting the people, I would’ve taken a back seat, but...” Altina’s expression took a dark turn.

“Then it turned out there were no administrative officers.”

“Sir Jerome isn’t performing his role too attentively, either.”

The two shared a sigh.

Clarisse returned with a white porcelain teapot and two tea cups. She placed them on the table before filling one with a transparent red liquid. The tea carried a deep aroma that tickled the nostrils.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Princess. Shall I add sugar?”

Notwithstanding her casual use of it, black tea leaves, sugar, and fine china were luxury goods even in the capital. It was inconceivable that these were military-issued, so they had to have been from the princess’s private stash.

“Thank you, Clarisse.”

“My pleasure. What about you, Mr. Regis?”

“Oh, I would love some. Thank you.”

“Whatever do you mean? I was simply asking what you planned to do next.”

“Gah...”

The maid looked perfectly composed as she twisted her verbal blade.

“Ahaha, that is an important problem,” Altina said as she stirred her tea. What to do next was definitely a difficult problem, and Regis thought over it while holding his forehead.

“Hmm. First, I’ll need Sir Jerome to tell me... why he drove out the administrative officers...”

“That’s a good idea. But, before that, would you care to help me with my job?”

“What can I help with?” He recalled how Altina said she would ‘work him to the bone.’

“It’s a very important job—we need to find those bandits!”

“Come to think of it, you were on patrol.”

“Yep. Not only do they cause trouble for the merchants and citizens, but for the soldiers as well. Could you think of a good way to deal with them? You’re a tactician, are you not?”

“No... I’m not a tactician...”

“So you can’t think of anything?”

“I said I’m not a tactician, not that I don’t have a plan. How much time and how many soldiers are available?”

Altina nervously tapped the ends of her index fingers together. It was surely some sort of sign, not that he could figure out what it was supposed to mean.

“The time frame is as soon as reasonably possible. Bandit activity started increasing half a year ago, but we haven’t been able to do anything about it, so we’ll be glad so long as even some progress is made toward resolving the matter. The problem is the soldiers...”

“Are we low on available troops?”

“Can you make do with just me?”

“...Hah? What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty confident in my sword arm.”

“I know you’re strong, but there are far too many bandits. In the time it takes you to nab a few, most of them will have run away.”

“Ack... I know.”

“Are you trying to catch them on your own?”

“That’s not it... There just aren’t too many soldiers who would listen to my commands.”

She came out with a bombshell rather difficult to ignore.

“What do you mean?”

“Yeaaah... I told you Sir Jerome despises me, right?” Altina’s face was crossed by agony unbefitting of a fourteen-year-old. According to her, it was proving difficult to move troops by the word of a new commander who had provoked the ire of their former leader.

“That’s a surprise. I met up with Knight Captain Everard and his men, and they seemed to adore you. ‘Truly a goddess,’ they said.”

He thought back to his meeting in the courtyard. Their devotion was so great that he felt any further interactions with the princess would be a danger to his safety.

“The g-goddess part is embarrassing, but... a few do listen, and I’m thankful for that.”

“Only a few? The majority won’t?”

“In times of peace they might listen, but on the battlefield they’ll likely only trust Sir Jerome’s orders.”

“...When lives are on the line, it’s better to trust a veteran general than a goddess.”

“Correct.”

While there were soldiers who adored Altina, they mostly saw her as a princess. She had not earned their trust as a commander. Asking for more was unreasonable, as she had no previous achievements.

“As I recall, the Beilschmidt border regiment consists of about five hundred cavalry, five hundred artillery, and two thousand infantry.”

“You really did your research.”

“Around how many of them will listen to your orders? I think we’ll be able to manage with three hundred infantry.”

“A-Around thirty, maybe...?” Altina responded apologetically.

Regis crossed his arms and leaned into his backrest. His chair creaked ever so slightly.

“...Um, Altina, didn’t you call this your border regiment?”

She faltered, her eyes a little teary.

“T-That’s... For now, it might just be on paper, but... I’ll do something about it eventually.”

“Paper and incentive may be all that’s necessary to gather soldiers, but their obedience can only be gained through ability and achievement.”

“Only through achievement...” Altina repeated, like a student digesting a lecturer’s teachings.

“I may be inexperienced when it comes to swordplay, but I can tell you’re plenty strong. You’re just up against the wrong guy. There’s nothing we can do about that. Martial arts alone are not what makes a commander, but... being stronger than those around you is the simplest way to prove superiority.”

“So you’re saying that Sir Jerome is stronger than me?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him... He isn’t known as the ‘Hero of Erstein’ for nothing.”

“Hero?” Altina tilted her head, perplexed. The real surprise came from Regis.

“You didn’t know? Sir Jerome is an honored general who played a huge role in our battles with the neighboring empires.”

“He is?”

“I didn’t see it personally, but—”

Clarisse placed a teacup in front of him, as if urging him to begin the story. He let the wonderfully scented tea wet his parched throat as he summarized Jerome’s military history.

“Jerome Jean de Beilschmidt was born the eldest son of a viscount.”

He marched in his first campaign at the age of fourteen—not in the imperial army, but in his father’s militia. He’d left countless distinguished deeds in his wake ever since. The most notable engagement, however, took place on the plains of Erstein against the neighboring Germanian Federation.

✧ ✧ ✧

Four years ago—

Twenty thousand Germanian soldiers had marched across the northern border, confronted by thirty thousand men from the imperial army. They would meet on the eponymous plains of Erstein.

The Germanian Federation was a gathering of nations, big and small, assembled around the kingdom of San Preussen. They waged wars amongst themselves day in and day out, and it was for this reason that their territories were impoverished. But these conditions also meant their soldiers were superior, well trained and well equipped.

The enemy vanguard consisted of just under three thousand heavy cavalry. They painted their armor gold, a symbol of honor, their column charging like the thrust of a lance.

The Belgarian Empire’s men were overpowered by their momentum. They had aimed right between the armies of two nobles, each intending to leave the matter to the other and flee—causing the empire’s front to crumble like curdled cheese.

Once their formation was breached, their main camp was laid bare for all to see. Not only that, the enemy could now pincer the main force from the front and back. When that happened, the troops would lose their solidarity and rout. The Belgarian army was on the brink of defeat.

The enemy column only gained force as it advanced, with nothing to impede it save for one brigade adorned in pitch black. Jerome’s own troops—only five hundred cavalry. It was the young viscount himself leading the charge.

Those who watched him wondered if he was buying time for the main force to regroup, laying down his life for his nation, but that could not be further from the truth.

The Black Knight, Jerome, took down heavy cavalry one after another. With their valorous general at the lead, the black troops pressed straight down the length of the enemy column, thoroughly dismantling it along the way.

While the Federation’s army frantically called upon their left and right wings to defend them, they could not make it in time to stop the cavalry charge.

✧ ✧ ✧

“—And thus, Sir Jerome’s charge continued straight to the enemy camp. He led the Belgarian army to victory and became the ‘Hero of Erstein.’ His achievements in the battle saw him promoted from a first-grade combat officer to a brigadier general. This all happened when he was twenty.”

“N-No way, he was that incredible!? I find that hard to believe...”

Altina furrowed her brow, a conflicted look across her face.

Clarisse, on the other hand, remained expressionless. “He doesn’t look like that sort of person. Not anymore, at least,” she offered.

“Really? What’s he like at the fort? I haven’t met him yet, but I hear he’s elegant, handsome, and terribly popular among the noble ladies...”

Clarisse stayed silent and Altina let out a groan.

“Gahh, you’re probably better off seeing for yourself.”

“I see, so he’s not doing great... Well, his fortunes did wane once he received his commission.”

“What happened?”

“Those who progress through the ranks because of their own skill are naturally envied and scorned by others who bought their way into such positions. It took less than half a year for those who once revered Sir Jerome as a hero to grow anxious over his repeated accomplishments. He was given the title of margrave along with this northern territory... to send him far, far away from his homeland, the capital.”

It was officially recognised as a “reward,” a great honor that even included the renaming of the land to Jerome’s surname, Beilschmidt. However, the prestige granted to him was clearly meant to curb his streak of achievements. The name of the hero Jerome soon faded from the public’s mind.

Altina downed her now-lukewarm tea.

“I see... A common tale...”

Had she compared it with her own circumstances? Her finger traced the edge of her cup as she sunk into her thoughts.

“...You really didn’t know?”

“I didn’t. I could tell he was strong, but Everard and the others won’t tell me anything about him.”

“...Princess, you’re quite treasured in the fort, so you’ve been distanced from any stories that might upset you,” Clarisse delicately stated as fact.

“Are they really showing such consideration? I may not get along with Sir Jerome, but an old story isn’t going to ruin my day.”

“You might see it that way... However, Princess, the soldiers see you as a dear guest, not a comrade.”

“Oh, Clarisse. We may not be on the closest terms, but we can’t be that distant. Surely.”

“Do you think so? That story Mr. Regis just told... I’d already heard it from the soldiers, you see.”

“Excuse me, what!?” Altina raised her voice, aghast by the bombshell Clarisse had so nonchalantly dropped. The maid returned a sickly-sweet grin.

“I’m easy to get along with, after all.”

“Wha—!? You make it sound like I’m completely unapproachable!”

“Perish the thought. You’re a princess, Princess. Not anyone nor anything else.”

“Err... That’s true, but... Umm?”

“Rest easy. Even if the fort’s soldiers keep you at arm’s length, you have me. I’m your only ally, Princess. You’re my princess and mine alone... Ufufufu.”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks... I guess?”

Clarisse had dispelled Altina’s steam as if by magic. While Regis was sure he had heard some pretty off-putting statements mixed into her response, given this maid, it was possible that they could have been jokes.

He took back control of the conversation.

“...Well, that’s about all I know of Sir Jerome. It’s only natural for the soldiers to trust him over you. He was originally a general who should be commanding a division or an army, not a small border regiment.”

“Guh... I get the picture. Even I don’t think I’m more trustworthy. But I’ll change that soon enough!”

“An excellent retort. In the books I read, it’s often said by throwaway characters, but...”

Altina stared at him with a sullen face.

“We’re dropping this issue. Just think about how to deal with the bandits.”

“Yeaaah... We’ll need a number of troops just to take the bandits in. If possible, I’d rather use foot soldiers than knights. And to do that... it looks like I’ll need Sir Jerome to give the order.”

Regis dropped his gaze to the floor. Given his relationship with Altina and the fact he had driven out all the previous administrative officers, he would undoubtedly be a difficult man to deal with. Honestly, he didn’t have much hope.

“This is a good opportunity! Let’s have a firm talk with Sir Jerome.” Altina shot up from her chair. “I’m sure he’s not satisfied with the status quo either.”

“You’re optimistic.”

“Of course! It’s better than getting yourself down,” she said with a smile.

✧ ✧ ✧

Altina led Regis from the officer dining hall on the first floor of the central tower to Jerome’s personal room. Clarisse remained, saying she had other work to attend to.

Walking down the stone corridor that echoed with each step, Altina eagerly struck up conversation.

“You’re quite liked, you know.”

“By what demographic?”

“By Clarisse. You couldn’t tell?”

“You sure you’re not mistaken? She was one-sidedly teasing me.”

“She only jokes with people she feels comfortable around. It’s proof she’s in a good mood. Clarisse is usually silent and hides in the back whenever she’s not called for.”

“Silent!? Hides!?”

“That’s right. She never even smiles. She’s like a doll.”

“...Was the person I spoke to a different maid who shares her name? Or are you in cahoots, teasing me too? I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

“Ahahah!” Altina laughed like a child as she ascended the spiral staircase.

They arrived at Jerome’s room on the third floor of the center tower. Altina knocked on the undecorated wooden door several times—to no avail.

She sullenly tapered her lips.

“Looks like he’s out.”

“If he’s effectively the commander, he must be a busy man.”

“Mnn, I doubt he’s that enthusiastic about his job, but... so be it. I’ll show you around the fort as we search for Sir Jerome!”

“That would be a huge help.”

“This way, Regis! C’mon, hurry up!” Altina raced off.

She boarded the stairs again, climbing all the way up to the top floor.

Regis gasped for breath.

The top floor was a conference room with a black table. Given the map on the wall, the imperial flag, and the bare stone floor... this was a room steeped in the air of war. The wear and tear of the conference table from a lifetime of good use served as a stark reminder that this was the frontmost line.

“Over here!”

Altina cut through the room to throw open a large window, the shutters slamming open with a loud thud. The wind that flooded in caused the map and flag to flap wildly. The outside of the conference room jutted out into a balcony.

Altina’s hair fluttered behind her as she stepped out, glimmering as it bathed in the sun’s rays.

“Here, look!” She pointed off into the distance.

“I’m not good with high places...”

“Oh yeah? Then how would you fancy being shoved off of one?”

“Yeah, yeah...” He followed her onto the balcony.

Regis’s hair was swept back by winds that carried a distinct, earthy aroma. He swallowed his breath at the scene spread out before him.

A cloudless blue sky and white snow-capped mountains wove together into a spectacle of grandeur. The sun calmly, quietly illuminated the world beneath.

Both the sky and the mountains seemed to be within arm’s reach, almost as if he had become a bird soaring through the heavens.

“Amazing,” he muttered.

Altina nodded triumphantly.

“Isn’t it remarkable?”

“—I braved the storm to distant lands and there I found an unspeakable treasure. It would not fit in my pocket, but would never leave my heart. Even now, I close my eyes and remember that sky.”

“What’s that?”

“A quote from Frenson’s autobiography. He was an artist who worked in the capital but, in his youth, his pieces never sold, so he worked as a porter carrying boxes for a caravan. At the end of a job where a heavy storm tormented the crew, his heart was impassioned by the beautiful sky as the clouds cleared. His soul’s hesitation and fatigue disappeared, and he wrote of how he could do naught but shed tears. After that, he would paint nothing but the sky. Eventually, ‘Frenson’s Sky’ would become a highly acclaimed masterpiece.”

“I see. So the moral is, you can’t do good work cooped up in the house!”

“Eh? No, it’s just a story about a guy who was inspired by his scenery...”

When he focused his gaze, he was granted an unbroken view of the fortress’s interior. This was the balcony’s intended purpose; it was an observation platform built to grasp the situation of a battle to allow for accurate command.

Fort Sierck was built halfway up a mountain. A hexagon of stone walls constructed on a gentle north-facing slope, with watch towers on its four cardinal directions.

In the center of the fort was the central tower used by command and staff officers, and this was where Regis stood on the top balcony.

Be it the officers’ facilities in the east or the soldiers’ quarters in the west, they were all crude rectangles of stone. That said, the west area was rather developed for a fort, consisting of twenty longhouses constructed in a line.

The courtyard Regis met Everard in was situated between the central tower and the eastern block. The main gate and plaza were situated on the north side that faced foreign lands. While he could not see it from the balcony, according to Altina, there was also food storage, an armory and a stable on the opposite south side.

Regis’s eyes stopped on the wooden scaffolding surrounding a portion of the outer wall.

“Is that area under repair?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Three months ago, the grand duchy of Varden invaded and knocked it apart with cannon fire. It can usually withstand such attacks, but it seems our opponents prepared quite a powerful cannon, so the walls were somewhat breached.”

“A powerful cannon? Please, tell me more.”

“Err... I had just taken my post and was in the back room when it happened. They told me I couldn’t come out, so I didn’t see.”

“When you’re supposed to be the commander...”

“I mean, I had only risen from my seat when they shouted, ‘Princess, please leave this to us!’ and escorted me back!”

“That’s no surprise. Are we attacked often?”

“Generally once every three months. It’s hard to cross the forest in the winter, so they probably won’t come again anytime soon.”

The grand duchy of Varden was about 30 lieue (133 km) away, but a vast sea of trees rife with hidden barbarian settlements resided in their path—Regis had read this in a book.

“What about the barbarians?”

“I’ve never seen them myself, but I heard they climbed the wall when they attacked in the summer. It was quite an intense battle.”

Despite them being insufficiently equipped, there were no guarantees of a combat advantage against barbarians—indeed, the tides of battle often turned quite ferociously. The empire’s cavalry could overwhelm them on the open plains, only to then receive a sharp counterattack in the forests. There were even reports of savages barehandedly scaling a fort’s outer walls. They were a foe one could never underestimate.

Altina twirled around.

“That’s about all there is here. Let’s move on.”

“Yeah, thanks. It’s a lovely sight.”

“Glad to hear it. Still, I wonder where that man went.”

Jerome was nowhere to be seen in the central tower. After checking the plaza and east offices, Regis turned their search south.

✧ ✧ ✧

The pair reached the stables, a low structure where the horses were kept. Putting together their cart horses and warhorses, the fort cared for close to six hundred.

Regis was struck hard by the stench of the animals.

“This is a surprise...”

“What is?”

“The fact that you’re fine with this... even though you’re a princess...”

“I prefer fencing and riding over song and dance. I’m fully capable of taking care of a horse.”

“That’s pretty neat.”

Altina raced over to one of the horses.

“Hello, good afternoon! How are you holding up? I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

The skinny horse brayed in response. Regis was having a hard time telling the others apart, but he could recognize the horse that had been pulling the wagon. There was a bandage wrapped around its right rear leg.

Altina stroked the horse’s neck as she fed it some vegetables. The assorted vegetables were considerably larger than any he ever remembered seeing at the capital, making the scene of them being pulverized between the horse’s teeth unnecessarily intimidating.

“Cute, isn’t he? Want to give him one?”

“No, I feel my hand will go along with it, so I’d rather not...”

“Ahahah, he won’t do that—not this kid. Horses are smarter than you give them credit for.”

“In that case, I must be fated to be hated by horses. I would always fall off during riding training.”

“Really? You can’t ride?”

“I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve never so much as gotten a horse to walk before.”

“You really aren’t bragging.” Altina smiled cheerfully.

Regis had a bad feeling about this.

“In that case, I’ll teach you!”

“I respectfully decline.”

“Which horse would do? You’d prefer a small, docile one, wouldn’t you?”

“H-Hey... Do I have no say in the matter? I have the right to oppose unreasonable orders, you know. In the first place, it’s said that a linear hierarchy exists to curb violations of orders, and...”

Altina continued walking down the stable as if she couldn’t hear Regis’s voice. She came to where the mounds of hay-fodder were kept.

All of a sudden, a woman appeared from the shadows.

An individual just a little out of place in the stables. She wasn’t wearing a military uniform, nor was she dressed like a servant. She wore clothes that closely resembled those of a lower class townswoman, gripping a basket of apples in her hand.

Once she noticed them, the woman’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

“Ah, Princess!?”

“That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m... Umm... E-Excuse me!”

She had started running before she could even finish the sentence. Altina watched her back gradually disappear, dumbfounded.

“...Who was that woman? She looked like a civilian to me.”

“A peddler, perhaps?”

“Maybe you’re right. She was carrying apples.”

“Yeah. But it’s still bright out... so I doubt she’s a courtesan.” Regis’s tongue slipped as he casually replied.

“What’s that?” the girl beside him asked back.

“Pardon?”

“What sort of person is a ‘courtesan’?”

It was clear from a look at Altina’s expression she was neither joking or attempting to play off her embarrassment. This princess apparently did not know what a courtesan was.

He had been careless. She was a minor.

No, she could be legally married at fifteen, so it wouldn’t be strange for her to possess such knowledge at fourteen.

But, on the other hand, she was royalty, and was likely not allowed to keep any crass friends or adults around.

How could this be—Regis’s spine trembled—at this rate, I’ll be one of those bad adults imparting an innocent young girl with unnecessary knowledge.

Altina closed in. “Why are you keeping quiet, Regis? Hurry and teach me.”

“Yes... Well... that’s... In short... the term refers to a female peddler who works the night...”

“Hmm? Come to think of it, shops do only open their doors during the day. Is it a special service?”

“You could say that.”

As the two of them were speaking, a man walked out from where the peddler girl had come from, following an apparent rendezvous.

He wore the uniform of a commissioned officer. Sturdy muscles showed through the gap in his unbuttoned collar. He was tall in stature, with wide shoulders.

His black hair, which was on the long side, was swept back, and he sported unshaven stubble across his chin. Age-wise, he seemed to be in his early twenties.

Tanned skin; sharp eyes.

While his rustic charm might have split opinions, even a fellow man like Regis had to admit he was quite attractive.

But he was drunk.

He held an apple in his left hand, a bottle of wine in his right. Each breath that escaped his lips carried the strong smell of liquor.

“Hmm... I was wondering who I’d find... and it’s just the little lady...”

“Instead of going on patrol, you’re in a corner buying apples from a peddler? Do your work seriously, Sir Jerome!”

Regis was taken aback.

“This bloody drunkard is Sir Jerome!? Margrave Jerome Jean de Beilschmidt!? The famed Hero of Erstein!?” He unintentionally raised his voice in surprise and ended up pointing in disbelief.

The man tilted his bottle, gulping down the amber liquid that poured through its neck. His sharp yet stupored eyes locked onto Regis in a glare.

“Hm... Who are you?”

“My name is Regis Aurick... fifth-grade administrative officer.”

“Get out.”

“Very well, I’ll draft up the transfer papers at once. You just have to sign them.”

“Regis!?”

“Just kidding. Pardon me, sir, but the right to reassign me lies with Her Highness.”

He was in front of Jerome, so he tried to be careful with his words, despite his restraint having slipped right off the bat.

“Y-You shouldn’t joke about that!” Surprisingly enough, Altina seemed genuinely worried.

Having never felt any importance in his own existence, Regis struggled to comprehend. Did she not want to let him go? Come to think of it, he was still in the middle of helping her capture the bandits.

I see. I haven’t yet finished the job she assigned me, Regis readily concluded.

“Well, you heard her... Unfortunately, the princess does not approve of my transfer, so it doesn’t look like I can return to the capital.”

“Hmph... I have no food to spare for a useless admin officer. Eat hay and leave.”

“About that. I have a question... Could you tell me the reason my predecessor was driven out? I wouldn’t want to make the same mistake.”

“Don’t say a word about what I do. Then we’ll be good.”

“Understood. I hear a servant of your house is handling the paperwork... Would you like me to assist? It must be difficult for one person to handle everything from finance to taxation; I’m sure the help would be appreciated...”

“Sod off. I’ll use you however I want, whenever I want.”

At that point in the conversation, Regis felt something off. More so, Jerome’s conduct was practically ordering him to notice...

Altina, meanwhile, looked on blankly and uncomprehendingly.

“Umm... Could it be the reason my predecessor lost his seat is because his opinions on the use of military funds clashed with your own?”

“Kukukuh... Now you’re getting it. ‘Don’t use empire money on booze,’ ‘don’t gamble it away.’ He was getting noisy, so I sent him packing.”

“Dear Lord, this is embezzlement...” Regis looked to the heavens.

This was quite the daring declaration of crime. The man could even be put to death by a military tribunal.

“What’s so wrong about it? The barbarians and those Varden bastards can’t invade as long as this fort stands. The money is sent to ensure that. I should be free to use it as I please.”

He gulped his drink once again, then took a bite of the apple.

“Hey, Regis...” Altina looked at him with a confused look on her face.

“What is it?”

“Is Sir Jerome right? He’s free to do as he pleases so long as he protects the country? Is that right?”

“Naturally, the answer is non—the empire’s ministry of finance allots twenty percent of its revenue to military expenses. The money is collected as a necessity to protect the country; using it on unnecessary entertainment runs contrary to the agreement with the taxpaying citizen.”

“It’s obvious when you think about it—Sir Jerome can’t be right.”

Altina criticized him. However, he simply lifted the corners of his mouth into a cynical, menacing smile.

“Hmph, bothersome admin officer. You put up a stiff front, but in the end, you’re the same as the rest, aren’t you?”

“...What do you mean?”

“Kukukuh... Now that you’ve heard that, you’ll say, ‘Give me a cut and I’ll look the other way.’ You’re all the same, each and every one of you.” Jerome raised an uncanny laugh.

Regis found himself praying again.

“Ooh... Not only extortion, but intimidation and coercion. This is... terrible...”

“He’s lying! You would never say that, would you, Regis?” Altina directed him a worried glance.

It is often said the honest lose out, but at the moment he was glad to be an upfront person. He didn’t have to disappoint her.

“I have no interest in your corruption,” he plainly informed Jerome.

“Oh, really? You don’t want money? Kukukuh... Don’t talk nonsense. I’m sure there’s something you desire. Something money would get you.”

Regis did have his desires. Of course he did. But this and that were completely unrelated. For a moment, the price tag at the bookstore crossed his mind, but that was a weak persuasion in the situation at hand.

“...Yes, but I don’t cheat to get it. Doing so would be the same as throwing my very life away.”

“Hahahah! Scared of the little lady? Don’t worry, there’s nothing she can do.”

“Gnn...”

Altina pouted, but continued to leave things to Regis.

“It looks like you’re misunderstanding something, Sir Jerome.”

“And what would that be?”

“...It doesn’t matter who’s here. You are the watchman of your own life.”

“Hah! What are you, a priest!?”

“No, we’re talking about loss and gain—immoral deeds inevitably cause hardships and place these burdens on others. This is inexcusable, and he who intentionally gains from such misdeeds will never truly escape the guilt. No matter what luxuries are to be gained, his heart shall never see another sunny day. What a miserable life that must be...”

Jerome fell silent. Altina listened in with a serious face as Regis continued.

“...So long as they are acquired justly, even the smallest indulgences may be enjoyed from the heart. However, those who work ill deeds will be tormented by guilt no matter how extravagant the luxury. Sir Jerome, you’ve heard me out to the end, so I have one question for you—between just and unjust, which do you think will obtain true happiness?”

“......”

Jerome grit his teeth so hard it was almost audible. The animosity in his eyes pierced Regis like a spear, so foul it drew associations to a beast of legend whose gaze could turn a man to stone.

He thought his heart might stop, but he continued to hold his ground, desperately containing the urge to run.

Altina, on the other hand, coldly returned the glare.

“Can’t answer, Sir Jerome?”

“Tsk... Your dull lecture ruined the damn wine.”

He tossed his bottle aside, and with that same motion reached his hand toward a pitchfork that had been stabbed into the hay. The fork was a farm tool about the size of a spear—merely an implement used to gather and carry hay to horses.

Yet in Jerome’s hands, it seemed more like a trident.

He barely caught the sound of something slicing through the wind, when—

An apple was impaled mid-air, right before his eyes.

The pitchfork’s sharp metal prongs stopped just short of Regis’s nose.

“Woah!?”

“Kukukuh... You talk all high and mighty, but that’s it. You’re nothing but talk!”

“Guh...”

Regis adopted a defensive stance, though it served little purpose. The disparity in ability was much too great. Even without a weapon in hand, this man could kill him with no effort whatsoever.

He felt a bead of sweat trail down his spine. Had he made a grave mistake? While Jerome showed off a wild attitude, Regis had appraised him as someone who could hold a conversation.

No, he had already discerned it from their exchange. This man was not someone who would use violence without reason. In which case, what was he trying to achieve? Regis’s mind thumbed through the books he had read before. There were a number of possibilities, and as he hesitated over which course of action to take, Altina moved.

The young girl now stood between them, protecting Regis like a shield.

She brushed aside the pitchfork with her left hand, and cast her right on the hilt of her sword.

“Quit acting childish, Sir Jerome! Is losing an argument enough to make you resort to violence?”

“You think I lost!? You say I’m a loser!?”

Jerome spun the pitchfork. The wind howled.

The next thrust shot out toward Altina’s chest.

Something white went flying with a resolute snap. It was one of the buttons decorating the front of her dress.

“Gnn...” Altina frowned.

“Kukukuh... What’s wrong, little lady? If this were the battlefield, you’d be dead.”

“If you had any real intent to kill me, that is.”

“...Hmph.”

The two glared at each other, unmoving.

“Did you think I’d run and cower?”

“Hmph... Never at a loss for words, are you?”

While his attempts to intimidate Altina were unmistakable, it was also clear that Jerome had no intention of causing any damage.

Regis observed silently.

He’s not the sort of man who would hurt a little girl over heightened emotions. If such was in his nature, things would have turned violent much sooner. He may be putting on airs of hostility, but he’s still carrying a rational conversation with us.

If he cared for his reputation, he would have at least made his drinking and wallowing more discreet. If he was driven by continued financial gain, he would have tried to cover up his embezzlement.

Yet he did neither.

In which case, did he no longer care? Had he thrown all apprehensions to the wayside? It was possible, given his circumstances, but... had he really been someone so apathetic to consequence, he would have ended the conversation long ago.

Jerome evidently had some reason to endure this annoying sermon to the end.

“...Are you testing us?”

“What?” Jerome’s eyes sharpened.

Regis carefully chose his angle.

Rather than discerning the margrave’s character, he was better off prioritizing his initial objective. He had stumbled across a bountiful thicket, but lacked the preparation to handle the snake coiled within.

He quelled the beat of his heart and steadied his breath.

“Princess... My business here is done. I now understand why this fort has no administrative officers.”

“I see. Well, I didn’t come here to glare,” Altina nodded.

Jerome looked at them dubiously.

“Was there something else? You think you can order me around?”

“It’s about the bandits. I think our current methods are incapable of solving the problem; we need a different strategy. I want you to mobilize the troops to carry it out.”

“A different strategy?”

“I was originally looking for you to ask about that.”

“...Hmph. Ridiculous.”

“What exactly are you calling ridiculous?”

“I don’t know what foolish song that admin officer charmed you with, but it’s a theory that’ll only work on paper. No matter what you do, you’re not going to catch such elusive bandits! Just leave it be. The merchants’ losses aren’t our concern; it’s their job to hire guards.”

“What are you talking about!? Protecting citizens is an army’s duty!”

“Enough with your lofty ideals, little lady. You know as well as I do, it’s impossible with the number of soldiers at this fort. Don’t drag my soldiers around on some wild goose chase!”

Jerome cast down the pitchfork and turned on his heels.

Altina released the hilt of her sword.

She’d never drawn it in the end. Perhaps she had merely succumbed to his pressure, but... with Regis’s lack of close combat acumen, that was not something he could say for sure.

Jerome was halfway out the door when Altina called him to stop.

“Where do you think you’re going!?”

“To town. The casino is just what I need to forget about your nonsense.”

“I see... Then order the soldiers to obey me.”

“I refuse. I don’t want to lose any troops on a hopeless endeavor.”

“It’s not hopeless!”

“Kua-hahahah! Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless! You’re not going to find them. I’ll bet on it.”

“T-That’s not true... We have a tactician right here!”

Her expectations of me are almost unwieldy, Regis cursed as he made a bitter face. Jerome took a glance at him.

“Hmph... You’re going to rely on this greenhorn admin officer? Even more reason not to lend you my men.”

“You’re judging a book by its cover—at least hear him out!”

If he kept quiet, Jerome would disappear off to town. Worst case scenario, their next meeting would actually erupt into bloodshed.

It was unavoidable.

He truly detested acting out the part of tactician, but it was about time for him to do his job. Regis had kept his silence for long enough; it was time to wrap things up.

“So, Sir Jerome is off enjoying the nightlife without a plan... and the soldiers will patrol the highway for yet another cold night. I pity them.”

Jerome’s face turned grim at his words.

“What did you just say? That I have no plan? That my soldiers are pitiable? You think they’re pitiable for being under my command? You’ve chosen your words poorly, fool... Try saying that again. I’ll snap that flimsy neck of yours.”

The horses nearby began to whinny restlessly.

Jerome had a scary look in his eyes. The sudden seriousness behind his intimidating air made him seem like a completely different person.

Was this wrath? Bloodlust? Malice? Whatever it was, the fact he had only been playing when swinging around the pitchfork was now fearfully apparent.

As Jerome slowly made his approach, he was stopped by Altina.

“Hold it, Jerome!”

“Hmph... These are the front lines. Another two deaths would be nothing unusual.”

“If you’re serious, then I’ll have to—”

Regis reprimanded himself. Don’t be intimidated by his aura! You need to stop them!

While he was terrible with a sword, couldn’t ride a horse, and was no good in a fight, he couldn’t allow himself to go weak and freeze up here, of all places.

“Sir Jerome... There are any number of ways to capture bandits. Instead of exercising any of them, you persist with patrols that have proven ineffective. Do you not see these men as pitiable?”

“...Hmm... Kukukuh... Any number of ways?”

“Yes.”

Jerome nimbly approached him. That terrifying aura he exuded only a moment ago had vanished—or so he thought, only for Jerome to roughly hoist him up by the lapels. Regis could hardly breathe.

“You bastard! Are you betting your life on those words!?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it... This will not make for a bet. Because it will one-hundred-percent succeed.”

Altina stepped in between the two and tore them apart.

“Cease this violence immediately.”

“Hmph.”

“Hack, hack...”

“Are you all right?” Altina asked cautiously.

“...I know I’m not... the sort of tactician... you’re hoping for...” He took a sharp breath, and oxygen once again entered his lungs. “But you don’t have to worry about this matter. I already know we’ll pull it off.”

✧ ✧ ✧

On Jerome’s order, the soldiers gathered at the square in front of the gate. Six hundred, for the time being.

Regis stood before the troops, Altina and Jerome beside him.

Jerome raised his concerns. “Hmph... Is this really enough? There are no cavalry here, only foot soldiers.”

Regis nodded in response. “Yes, this mission doesn’t require cavalry... But I never thought they would assemble so quickly on a single order. Their discipline and solidarity far exceeds that of any unit I’ve seen before.”

“Spare me the flattery. It means nothing. This is why I can’t stand admin officers.”

“I-I see...” It was a genuine compliment.

Jerome had been drinking in broad daylight, putting his soldiers to work with no overall strategy. Regis feared he may have lost his popularity, but that was a needless concern. The deeds that earned him his title, his martial arts that were still in top form, or perhaps even his concern for his subordinates—whatever it was, he maintained incredible control over his men.

“...Isn’t it just because they’re scared of what’ll happen if they don’t listen to him?” Altina whispered quietly.

“Haha...”

That would mean they’re almost like tamed animals—a thought Regis found ridiculous yet couldn’t fully refute. The terrifying Jerome himself was glaring at him, after all.

“Oi, just so we’re clear: Screw this up and you’re dead. You’ll be at the vanguard next time the barbarians attack. It’s a high honor to lead the charge and die an honorable death.”

The head of the assault was a valorous and coveted position. The battle would always begin with a clash of the strongest warriors each side had to offer.

With Regis’s unmistakable shortcomings, he would likely be unable to keep up with the charge. He could already see himself falling over and being trampled to death by his allies behind him.

“How scary... Incidentally, what happens if we succeed?”

“Kukuku... Look who’s talking... If we succeed, I’ll recognize you. You’ll be allowed to live.”

“What an appealing reward...”

And so, Regis explained the plan to the troops. It wasn’t a terribly complicated one. The way he saw it, a complicated strategy would fail before it even began. When so many were participating, brevity was the top priority.

The explanation concluded. He was sure everyone understood.

But, precisely because they understood, a majority of the soldiers looked perplexed.

“Y-You want us to... pretend to be caravans?”

“Yes, that’s right. But I don’t think “pretend” is the right word—it’s a disguise.”

“I’ve never heard of that ever working before!”

“Let’s pray the bandits haven’t either. I will have you all lead wagons and walk beside the horses. Do not wear any armor; make do with what you can hide under your clothes. This will put you at a disadvantage in combat, but it should be enough to win against bandits—they can handle that, can’t they?”

He directed the last few words at Jerome, who raised his voice proudly in response.

“They damn well can! Armor is just decoration. Even if you’re left barehanded, I won’t forgive any man who lets a bandit do them in. And if anyone wants to even humor the possibility of failure, step forward. I’ll snap your bloody neck and send you home in a coffin faster than any bandit ever could!”

“Sir, yes sir!”

The soldiers voiced the affirmative in unison. They sounded reliable enough.

The terse atmosphere here was one that had been absent from Regis’s time serving under Marquis Thénezay. The soldiers there were usually protecting the capital or an aristocrat’s estate; they were proud men. Noble. Elegant, even.

After the marquis passed, a large majority were apparently hired by other nobles. Were they doing all right? Regis was hit by a longing for his homeland, but shook it off to return to the level-headed mindset required of his work.

He needed to impart these soldiers with detailed instructions.

“...The important part is to look indistinguishable from a normal caravan. While we’re at it, it’d be nice to give off the impression we’re carrying something valuable, so wooden crates will do nicely. If the load is too light, the speed of the carriage will give us away, so please load them with rocks, or something similar. Hide your weapons in the wagon.”

There were soldiers among them who placed particular emphasis on their reputation. It was for this reason he had not called the knights, who were themselves an order of nobility. But many powerful faces still stood before him—after all, it took all sorts to make an infantry.

“This is hard to believe! Carrying stones? You’re literally sending us on a fool’s errand! What of the honor of the soldiers of the imperial army!?”

“Yeaah... I’m not forcing anyone to participate, but... between a soldier who keeps up appearances but can’t catch a bandit, and one who dons a disguise to bring peace to the highway, which do you think should be honored?”

“Urgh... Gnn... But, still...”

“The notion is the same as hiding and waiting for the opportunity to launch a surprise attack. Is it honorable to loudly name yourself when you’ve gone to such great lengths to hide?”

“There is no need to consider it. Any idiot who risks exposing our position during an ambush will be silenced by me with a single blow through the heart!” Jerome answered in place of the now-silent soldier.

“I see. I appreciate your way of thinking. Dying in battle is an honor, no matter the reason.” Regis didn’t even feel like arguing with him at this point.

In any case, once Jerome had given the order, the soldiers had no right to refuse him.

“And then what? What do you want me to do?” Altina asked.

“Pardon?”

“Do you want me to act as a coachman again?”

“...Princess, your hair, eyes and face are far too conspicuous. I’ll need you to watch and wait.”

“What!? You want me to wait!?”

“Hm, let’s see... No, actually.”

“Ah, then what should I do!?”

“We wouldn’t want the bandits sniffing out a change in plans, so please keep up your patrol.”

“Oh... You want me to patrol, even knowing that doing so is pointless?”

“That’s right. It’s an important job, defending the secrecy of our plan. We wouldn’t want the civilians to think the military is slacking off, either.”

“Mm... Fine...”

While she reluctantly accepted, it must not have been the position she was hoping for—she was now very clearly sulking.

Group by group, the troops who finished their preparations departed from Fort Sierck. Following their lead, a number of false caravans began their journey down the highway.

✧ ✧ ✧

It took only about a week for results.

While Jerome had been skeptical about the plan, to Regis’s surprise, he actually donned a disguise to take part himself. Did he feel some responsibility?

He put on the robes of a porter, pushing a laden cart beside the wagons.

And luckily—unluckily, for the bandits—it so happened to be his caravan the bandits set their greedy sights on.

It turned out just as Regis had predicted. He would later hear the group seemed to be a band of mercenaries who had fallen on hard times.

“Gua-hahahah! Hand over all your cargo! Do what I say, and I’ll make it quick and painless!” The brigand let out another thunderous laugh.

He thrust out his spear. Its end, however, was caught by a mere pinch of fingers.

By a man dressed as a porter.

“Think you can do whatever you want on my land... you godforsaken parasites!?”

The brigand’s eyes opened wide in shock and terror. This porter was none other than the Hero of Erstein, Black Knight Jerome.

The other members of what was supposed to be a merchant troupe drew swords from their wagons. The shrieks were drowned out by a war cry.

It was one-sided from there. From what Regis was told, it couldn’t even be called a battle.

Jerome and his men were showered with applause at Theonveil and returned to the fort triumphant.

✧ ✧ ✧

That night—

“Gua-hahahah! You have my permission! Eat all you want, drink all you want!” Jerome roared with laughter, a bottle of booze in one hand.

In the officers’ dining room, the prominent senior officers gathered for a toast.

Altina was present, for what it was worth. She didn’t perform any conspicuous deeds this time around, so she sat at the foot of the table, but she seemed delighted from the very bottom of her heart that the plan had succeeded.

I’m glad I could make her smile—Regis breathed a sigh of relief.

Apart from her, he recognized the mass that was the knight captain, Everard. Despite his noble status, he dressed like a merchant and had assertively helped out.

The drinking bouts began. Brawny men cried out, laughed, and prattled a merry storm.

In the plaza around them, the rank-and-file soldiers who took part in the mission were surely sharing their tales of heroism with the others.

By all accounts, Regis was a junior officer who was meant to be in the plaza with them. However, as the one who proposed the plan, he was called to the dining hall for senior staff.

Not only that, he was seated at Jerome’s table where the most important faces assembled. The fact his seat was far from Jerome’s and that Altina was next to him provided some salvation, but his heart was that of a small dog that had wandered into a pack of wolves. Lonely and discouraged.

“Hey, Regis!!”

“Err... Do you mean me?”

“There’s only one Regis in my regiment!”

“Oh, that’s good to know... By the way, I’m technically in the princess’s regiment...”

“He’s right, you know,” Altina nodded beside him.

“Oh, just shut it.”

“......”

He was as unreasonable as ever.

“Hey, Regis... How did you think up that plan?”

You just told me to shut it, so why should I start speaking now? A childish counterattack did cross his mind, but he would surely die if the joke went misunderstood. He could never be the sort to stake his life on a quick laugh.

“...I once read about it in a book.”

“Oh? So they write books on catching bandits these days?”

“No, I’ve never seen a report on such a method being put into practice. Those who go as far as to write a book on their own strategy might have a stronger fixation on keeping up appearances—I doubt they are the sort to use such an underhanded plan. Rather, the book that gave me the hint was about pirates. Pirates often fly the flags of merchants, deceiving ports and other small merchant ships into dropping their guards before launching an attack. There are innumerable stories of victories earned through deceit. This might be a bit old, but a classic example is—”

“Yeah, we get it. Shut up.”

“Eep.”

As he hadn’t spoken about books in a while, he had forgotten his circumstances and inadvertently droned on.

Jerome had a pensive look on his face.

It was at that moment that the maid, Clarisse, brought in a plate piled high with thick slices of meat.

“......”

She really was silent now, and her face was completely devoid of a smile. As she placed the large plate on the table, the robust men cheered her on.

“Thank you kindly, Clarisse.” Altina spoke almost apologetically to the maid, who curtseyed and returned to the kitchen without a word.

That must’ve been a stranger who happened to look just like her—Regis had to doubt his eyes.

Jerome loudly gulped as the liquor passed down his throat.

“Hmph... Whatever. I reward success, no matter how much I can’t stand the recipient. Yes, even if he is an admin officer.”

Was that supposed to be heartwarming? Regis still felt he was being insulted.

“Hey, Regis! You scamp, don’t tell me this plan is the end of your bag of tricks! If you can’t think of anything else, you’re as good to me as a chicken who can’t lay eggs.”

“Oh... New plans? Whether I have a good idea or not will depend on the situation...”

“The best chickens give eggs even through the winter.”

“But there’s no need to strangle a bad one in fair weather.”

“Kuh, kua-hahah! You’ve still got some spunk in you, kid. All right, I’ll permit it. You can live another day.”

“Is that so? Thanks...?”

Jerome didn’t address him after that. However, the senior officers who had been practically ignoring his very existence got up to engage in a bit of small talk, a glass in hand.

As the night progressed, it was Altina who seemed to have no place; she timidly narrowed her shoulders.

✧ ✧ ✧

Regis finally managed to return to his room just as dawn was about to break.

He stripped off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair.

“Good grief, look at the time...”

The scent of ale had stained his hair. It would likely take more than a damp cloth to fully drive it out.

“Yeaah, well... I can take care of that when I wake up. Not that I have long to sleep, anyway...” he muttered before giving in to a deep yawn. He stretched out onto the bed and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately after, a knock came from his wooden door. It was quite a reserved tap.

Who could it be? He really wanted to sleep. As he hadn’t engaged the lock, he prayed whoever it was would just open the door and let themselves in.

As he hesitated over whether to sleep or get up and answer the door, the knock sounded again.

All right, fine. Regis dragged himself out of bed, trudged over to the door and opened it before it could be knocked on a third time.

There stood the girl with the red hair and crimson eyes.

He wondered whether this was a dream. She wore a fancy one-piece dress that would fit in at a ballroom, but had not put on her arm guards. It would have made quite a din had she knocked with those things equipped.

“...U-Um... Good evening, Regis. Or perhaps I should say good morning?”

“Altina...? Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t think so. Hey, can I come in...?”

She warily surveyed the corridor stretching out on her either side. Regis didn’t know why she had come by, but he had no reason to turn her away. He let her into the room.

“What are you doing here so late at night? Or, uh, so early in the morning?”

“It’s already light outside. If you’re sleepy, I’ll come back later... But, it is a very important matter to discuss...”

“It’s all right. Drowsiness may have been in attendance a moment ago, but the shock of seeing you at my door sent him packing.”

“Yep, there’s the usual Regis. Pedantic and always beating around the bush.”

“You’ve barely gotten to know me, and you’ve already come to whip me into shape?”

“That’s not what I meant... If we’re going to talk about this, the last thing I’d want is for you to be drunk or half-asleep.”

“I didn’t drink that much, I’m fine. So what’s this important discussion?”

“...Regis, do you remember what we talked about in the carriage when we first met?”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t charge me for treason.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

Scant rays of morning light streamed in through the window. The girl’s crimson eyes, revealed by the faint light, gave off a true sense of urgency.

Regis placed the room’s only chair beside his bed. He offered it to her, taking a seat on the edge of his covers.

“...Does this work?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Considering their status as princess and commoner, perhaps he should have sat on the floor. But that wasn’t the relationship Altina wanted to build. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have dropped by his room without her maid.

For a woman to sneak into a man’s room—if this were one of the works of fiction gaining popularity in the capital, the next scene would require him to make sure there were no prying eyes.

He inadvertently found himself fixedly inspecting her.

Altina stroked her cheek.

“Mn? What’s wrong, Regis? Is there something on my face?”

“...No, I simply had an absurd thought that I had to immediately discard.”

“Oh, but what if you aren’t wrong?”

“Wh-What!?”

“Speak your mind.”

“No, but... that’s... definitely not going to end well... You’re a minor, and...”

“Age has nothing to do with it. I’m being serious.”

“Hah!?”

“I’ve already made my decision. Whatever obstacles I face... even if I am still lacking, I want to do this.”

“Do— Do what?”

He was more confused than ever before. He could feel his heart speed up. Altina hesitated before she continued on.

“W-When the wagon wouldn’t move, you told me the nobles continue waging their pointless wars, expending the commoners’ lives and assets.”

“That was close! I knew I had things all wrong. I-I mean, yes, you’re right! Politics, of course. I remember the whole exchange.”

“Do you still stand by those words?”

“I do.”

He was finally seeing where this was going. Regis calmed his heart and returned a nod.

“And are you still frustrated with the aristocracy?”

“Of course... This fort has the hero, Jerome, so the barbarians won’t launch any thoughtless attacks, but there are lands that have it far worse. Losing land from a battle, invading to take it back; the process leads to an ever-increasing number of casualties. In just three years, half of my academy classmates who had been dispatched to the front lines died in the line of duty. They were all... good guys...”

It was no lie that he felt a problem with the empire’s current policies.

“...I also don’t think the current empire is a just one. The royal line and the nobles who should be thinking about the people do naught but embroil themselves in an unsightly struggle for power.”

“Right. I feel a bit better hearing those words from a royal like yourself...”

“Why so?”

“Under the current system, it’s difficult for the opinions of the masses to be reflected in the empire’s laws. I hear there’s a certain country where policy is decided by the vote of each and every citizen, but...”

“That sounds interesting... Would you prefer it if this became such a country?”

“No, it is too early. As the populace is largely uneducated on matters of law, military and finance, there is a high chance their word would steer the country in the wrong direction. You cannot hold politics in a bar.”

“That certainly is worrisome.”

“That is precisely why those in high places, like the emperor, need to think about leading us in the right direction. That’s all I ask for as a citizen.”

“Do you think there really is a right direction?”

“For the majority of people, at least. I find it strange that a royal like yourself shares that opinion.”

Altina’s sense of values seemed normal from the point of view of a commoner, but was quite a curiosity considering her status. Those of the upper echelon were generally prideful, discriminatory, and saw themselves as the chosen people.

“My mother would often tell me stories of what it was like to live as a commoner.”

“Oh, right, Imperial Concubine Claudette was a commoner by birth. Is she also working to reform the empire?”

“No. Mother doesn’t think about that sort of thing. She takes in all the pain, the sorrow and the hardships, enduring them and remaining complacent. She doesn’t have nor act toward a greater goal; she’s a normal person.”

“That definitely is normal...”

The empire still existed precisely because a large majority did not voice their objections toward the increasingly unequal system of aristocracy.

Altina’s expression clouded over. She firmly clenched the hand rested on her lap.

“I want to change the empire... but, at this rate... it’ll end without me having accomplished anything...”

She painstakingly squeezed out the name of a certain man. Second Prince Latrielle.

“His backing is great... it won’t be long before he corners First Prince Auguste into abdicating his right to succession.”

“At this rate, you’re probably correct.”

“He’ll become emperor. When that happens, he will be the one deciding my future... A man as cunning as he would never grant freedom to any of imperial blood. I will undoubtedly be married to some high aristocrat of the empress’s faction.”

“...That also sounds likely.”

The girl could see her own end. Unfortunately, she would likely never be granted the opportunity to voice these opinions about the empire.

“It will be no different from a prison.”

Altina grit her teeth. She wished, she prayed, to change the empire. However, her freedom would be stolen away the moment Prince Latrielle became emperor.

“I understand how you feel. Even I hold my resentment... but, even if such is the case, what can we do? A commoner has but a commoner’s life to live. The fourth princess must live as the fourth princess.”

“That’s right. It’s already been decided... If I continue to wait, nothing will be accomplished.”

“That’s life for you.”

“Even so... I want to change the empire. I can’t just be complacent until I’m standing at the prison gates.”

Regis contained her just before she could get too worked up.

“Calm down, Altina... Prince Latrielle becoming emperor, your future, it’s all been decided by the unstoppable current called the empire. Are you telling me... you mean to oppose it?”

“...If I have to.”

While her tone was calm, her fiery passion was still clear for all to see.

“That’s reckless.” Regis shuddered. “At times, passion can narrow your field of vision... If you go through with this, you will very likely lose your life.”

Yet there was no hesitation in her crimson eyes. Her expression told the worrying tale that she had already made her resolve.

“I will change the empire. That is my goal in life. To give it up would be no different from giving up on life.”

“Ah...” Regis swallowed his breath. He never thought he would reunite with his own words here, of all places.

Why had Altina seen Regis as a kindred soul? He was finally beginning to see it.

“And to pursue these feelings, I must move forward.”

“Don’t be rash, Altina... You need to give it some thought...”

“I’ve already thought about it too many times to count, and in that time a great many people have suffered. There are countless things I’m lacking if I want to change the empire, but time is in short supply, and I can’t afford to waste any more!”

Regis stooped his shoulders. He knew he would never be able to stop her. The whole situation was a tragedy that pained his heart.

“Aah, Altina... You are too wise... You would have been able to live a far more comfortable life had you only been a fool. With your looks and lineage, the man who becomes your husband would shower you with all his affection. Enjoying wonderful songs; tasting expensive wine; immersing yourself in opera; visiting the hills in spring, the rivers in summer, the forests in fall, the castles in winter; adoring gemstones; dressing up in tasteful gowns. You would lack nothing to enjoy the happiness of a noble lady.”

“Yet no matter what luxury I live in, I can never escape from the sense of guilt that such a life has been squeezed from those suffering under tyranny.”

“Hah... I do remember saying something like that...”

“You gave an answer to the doubts swirling in my heart.”

“Good grief, I’m... the worst. ‘Knowledge does not bring happiness’—such is a quote from my favorite book.” At this point, Regis could do little more than watch her expression.

The resolution on her face was far too beautiful, far too dignified, clearly revealing the firmness of her determination.

Her faint pink lips parted.

“I will become empress. I need your wisdom.”

Regis forgot to breathe as he burned the form of the red-haired, crimson-eyed princess into his mind.

A declaration too heavy to bear for a fourteen-year-old girl. Far too many obstacles stood between her and her destination. Yet she said she would press on, fully aware of them.

Was this the emotion those around him felt when the first emperor of the Belgarian Empire proclaimed he would thoroughly crush the barbarians and form a nation?

If these hands have enough power to change the world, I want to grant her wish. He knew this from the bottom of his heart.

“But... Altina... I don’t think I’m the talent you’re hoping for.”

“Regis, I heard a rumor about you three months ago.”

“You mentioned... What was the rumor?”

“That you are an excellent strategist; an intellectual with rare insight.”

Who could have possibly said that? Regis was so embarrassed he wished for the floorboards to swallow him up.

“As I said then, rumors are always embellished, and in this case even aggrandized. The only other explanation is that you must have the wrong person.”

“Your timid parts included. When I met you, my hopes changed to certainty. Of course, I won’t say I understood everything, but I knew you were someone I could trust. Your ability, your personality and your ideology.”

“Such a hasty conclusion...”

“It wasn’t a hasty conclusion. Why do you think I went so far as to dress up as a coachman to hear your true thoughts? I had my own share of troubles.”

“I suppose that did happen.”

“I have my reasons for believing in you. Besides, wouldn’t you say that trusting another depends on more than just rationale?”

“Is that how it works?”

“Of course it is!”

“Yeaah... Still... You know...”

Regis didn’t know what to say.

Silence followed. For a while, the room was suffused with no more than the quiet whistle of the wind outside—until a violent knock shattered the serenity. It came in concert with a yell.

“Hey, Regis! Are you up!? We need to talk!”

“Sir Jerome...!?”

“Wha!?”

Altina went pale. She had just confessed a secret that put her own life at risk. With various forms of anxiety overlapping each other, she could no longer keep her cool.

Regis leaned in, lowering his voice so no one outside could hear.

“...Calm down, Altina... You need to hide.”

“...Do... Do you... think he heard...!?”

“...If he had, he wouldn’t have knocked.”

“...Ah.”

“More importantly, it’ll be dangerous if anyone finds out we were alone together at this hour. More specifically, my life will be in danger.”

“...Eh?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just hide.”

“...Hide where!? There’s no space behind the bookshelf or under the bed.”

“...It-It-It doesn’t matter where.”

This was followed by another harsh knock and a louder shout.

“Oi, Regis!? Hey! I’m letting myself in!”

“Aah, wait! Please wait. I was in the middle of changing so I’m buck naked, and...”

“Hah! Who cares? I’ve no interest in your twig of a body. I’m coming in!”

The door slammed open.

✧ ✧ ✧

When Jerome entered, Regis was in bed with the blanket pulled up to his chest.

“Err... Sorry, but... I get shy easily...”

“Hmph. Do whatever you want. No matter whether you’re in the middle of eating or changing, you’ll be fine so long as you listen to me.”

“Oh, really... Erk...”

Something wriggled under the blanket. He could feel warmth press across his thin undershirt.

“Hah...”

He could feel strained breathing. Regis broke into a cold sweat as he lay face-up on the bed.

Altina was under the covers.

To prevent her shape from standing out, she clung tightly to Regis’s left—the opposite side to where Jerome stood.

By doing so she was just barely able to hide, but Regis’s heart rattled like the bell on an alarm clock.

Her left arm rested on his stomach, her right tunneled under his back. Her head was buried into his flank. The bulge there would definitely give them away, so he had taken his largish book and placed it open across his chest.

It was a somewhat unnatural position, but—

Jerome didn’t question what such an arrangement could be hiding.

“Hear me out, Regis.”

“Yes...?”

“I— See, I can’t stand you. I think admin officers are useless piles of trash. They’re all talk.”

“I-Is that so... Do you want me to return to the capital?”

“You wouldn’t go even if I told you to.”

“I am the princess’s subordinate, after all... Erk...”

Altina’s squirming leg tangled with his own. He knew she was trying to stick as close as possible to hide, but this was bad for his heart.

The sensation of her soft thigh was conveyed to his own. On top of that, a girl’s leg rubbing his inner thigh was a sensation he had never experienced before.

Regis’s left leg was now sandwiched between both of Altina’s. His pulse hastened to such an extent he feared what it would do next. Perhaps it would stop entirely and he would die right then and there.

—Not a bad way to go... No, no, that’s way too miserable! His mind had fallen into a tumultuous panic.

Jerome closed in.

“Ah, wait, Margrave... Please wai—”

“Listen!”

“Yes, sir.”

Jerome slammed his right foot down onto the seat of the nearby chair—without removing his shoe, to boot. He placed his right elbow on his now-raised knee and leaned forward. His left hand pressed against his hip.

“You’re trash. But, you’re useful trash. My principle is to use even trash, so long as it has some value.”

“I-I see...”

“But a kid who doesn’t obey my orders isn’t one of my men. You get me?”

“...To summarize, Sir Jerome, you are dissatisfied that I do not obey your orders?”

“Yeah, of course I’m dissatisfied! Real dissatisfied! It’s irritating just hearing you say you’re that little lady’s subordinate!”

“Umm... You’re technically the princess’s subordinate, too...”

“That’s the part I can’t stand the most!!”

“As I thought.”

“And that’s the thing. Go tell the little lady to make me your direct superior.”

“Oh, I see...”

The margrave practically wore his disregard for military regulation on his sleeve, but if the need arose, he was apparently capable of going through proper procedures. Following through with his proposal would not change the fact that Regis reported to Altina, but... Jerome needed it to be true that the princess’s subordinate had chosen the margrave over the princess.

“Kukukuh... Become one of my men, Regis.”

“A-About that...”

The girl under the covers squeezed his flank in protest. I get how you feel, Regis cried out internally, but he’s going to see! He promptly dropped the corner of the book on her small head from over the covers.

It shouldn’t have hurt too much, but she went quiet. He hoped this had settled her down.

For once, Jerome began speaking calmly.

“...I... don’t plan on freezing in these northern lands forever.”

His rebellious heart was fully justified. Even so, the empire was such a large structure that any opposition was difficult.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Naturally, I’ll... No... Whatever I do’s got nothing to do with you. Don’t get conceited, fifth-grade admin officer.”

“Well, that sounds about right.”

“I’m going to need all the hands I can get, so I’m saying even someone as worthless as you has value to me. Be grateful.”

“I’ll work for what I’m paid. If you want to transfer me, please bring it up with the princess...”

“You’re choosing the little lady over me?”

“T-That’s... I can’t decide immediately.”

“Very well. Think over it seriously. Not that there’s anything to think about.”

Jerome removed his foot from the chair and turned to the door.

“If I decline your proposition... what happens then?” Regis asked cautiously.

“I am a merciful man. Your death will be a painless one.”

A twitch came from Altina, who was still pressed tightly against him. Regis discreetly placed a light hand on her head.

“...That is... most generous.”

Jerome left the room with a smile, convinced there was no way Regis could decline.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Phew!”

When he lifted the blankets, Altina sprung up. It must have been quite hot down there, as her cheeks were bright red.

“Are you all right?”

“Hah... Hah... I’m not all right!”

“Q-Quiet down.”

“Guh.”

Altina’s face shot up to his. She mounted Regis as he lay on the bed, making for quite the bold situation.

I-Is she not aware of the situation?

Presumably—or, at least, going off her lack of other relevant knowledge—she didn’t get it.

He felt her weight press down on his stomach. Regis was seemingly alone in his embarrassment as his face flushed red.

“N-Now look here, Altina... For starters, how about you calm down and get off the bed before we talk...”

“You want to become Jerome’s subordinate!?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“I mean, he said he’d kill you if you refused.”

“That was just an empty threat...”

“But... You didn’t refuse...”

“No, that’s because you were there...”

If Regis had declined the proposal, it was possible he would have used violence as his next mode of persuasion. If it came to that, he would have definitely found her hidden under the covers.

The fact her thoughts hadn’t reached that point meant she had definitely lost her cool. Altina grabbed Regis’s shirt.

Her crimson eyes wavered.

She was on the verge of tears.

No ruby could ever match this beauty—a misplaced thought crossed Regis’s mind.

A transparent dewdrop traced the length of her pale white cheek.

“Help me...! I need you!”

“...!?” Regis swallowed his breath.

She stared at him with a deadly seriousness. He could feel his own face grow hot.

We need to cool off—both of us. Regis took a deep breath.

“First things first, Altina... The reason I didn’t decline the margrave’s request was to avoid the risk of you being spotted.”

“Ah... You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“And, as I said, the threat to my life was an empty one... I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp on his personality.”

“Even though it’s hardly been a week since you arrived here?”

“He took more time to get down than most. He’s quite the capricious one.”

“Really? What’s my personality?”

“...I don’t have a good grasp on you yet.”

“What’s with that... Are you lying to avoid the subject?”

“I don’t lie.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re against lying. Then answer me honestly... Will you still help me?”

Her expression was an amalgamation of anxiety and expectation. She was close enough for each breath to be felt. So close he could make out every detail of his own face in her large, crimson eyes.

No one had ever needed him this much before. No one had recognized him like she had.

And so, Regis had no confidence.

“...Let me be honest... What you are attempting to do is treason against the empire. You will make an enemy of a majority of those in power. They will presumably ignore even the empire’s will in order to crush you. You may have the right to succeed the throne, but... the populace aside, the large noble houses would never back you.”

“You refuse to lend a hand to such a dangerous situation?”

“The opposite. Precisely because it’s a difficult dream to reach, I want to lend you my aid.”

“Really!?”

Altina’s expression brightened up immediately, much to Regis’s concern. He attempted to restrain her excitement.

“Please, wait a minute. The thing is... I can’t even imagine myself being of use to you.”

“Why’s that? You’ve proven your worth in advising Marquis Thénezay, in persuading Jerome, and in capturing the bandits. And I’m sure you have many other achievements from before, too.”

“But that was all just surface knowledge I learned from books. If I were to fall into an unfamiliar situation, I’m certain that my expertise wouldn’t be of any use. It’s far too reckless to place this much trust and ambition in such a half-baked excuse for a strategist. I’m aware of my shortcomings, and that’s why I’m so reluctant to take on this position. What if I mess up in a critical situation? What you’re trying to do here is a game of life and death—there are no second chances. That’s why I think you should take more care with your personnel selection—not that I don’t appreciate having met you. What I mean is, you might come across a real tactician someday. I just happened to be the first you encountered, and—”

Altina’s shoulders dropped. As she hung her head, her forehead smacked into Regis’s with a cushioned thump.

The sudden impact forced him to take a breath.

Her lips were so close.

“Regis...” She exhaustedly called his name.

Had she finally gotten sick of him? He couldn’t blame her.

“Altina...?”

“...Do you want to become my tactician or not?”

“The tactician part aside, I do want to help you... I just have no confidence I can do the job well.”

He felt the heat across her forehead. She was just a little warmer than he was.

“Then how about we do this? I’ll put as much trust in you as you refuse to put in yourself. Then you should have enough trust for one person.”

He felt some sophistry at work. But, rather than himself, he might have an easier time believing in Altina.

“...So you’ll believe in me... and I just have to believe in you?”

She lifted her body. The sensation of their touching foreheads lingered for a short while.

But the only part that had separated was their foreheads; she was still sitting on Regis’s stomach.

“Yes, believe in me—is what I’d like to say. But I’m aware that’s impossible as I am now.”

“Why?”

Quite a sudden change of heart. A moment ago, she so strongly declared she would become empress.

But her eyes showed no colors of defeat. There was resolve in her expression.

“Sir Jerome said he wanted to make you his subordinate...”

“Yeah...”

That was the only noteworthy thing that took place between now and her proclamation that she would become empress. She had likely compared herself with Jerome.

It really was a tough gap to bridge.

“A majority of the soldiers believe in Sir Jerome over me. To ask you to be the only one who believes in me—I can’t ask for something so selfish.”

“I think Sir Jerome’s closer to success. He might make a comeback in the empire.”

“You reckon he’ll be emperor?”

“No...”

Usurping the throne would be difficult. Even if Jerome himself boasted peerless strength, for each soldier working by his side, a thousand from the empire would oppose. Not to mention the First Army defending the capital was a unit gathered from the strongest men of the country with top-class equipment.

But, above all else, just winning battles wasn’t enough to win hearts. To garner enough support, a war needed a just cause.

Regis cut the rails to that train of thought there.

“It’s hopeless. I can’t support him... Even if Sir Jerome becomes ruler, I doubt the war will end. Our territories will expand even further, and little else.”

“Right,” Altina agreed, “I can’t entrust the future to Sir Jerome. If I want to realize my ideals, I need to make the change myself.”

“I see... So you haven’t given up yet...”

His statement made her bare her fangs. She snapped at him.

“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think!? My heart was racing so fast I thought it would stop when I told you my ambition! Did you think my feelings were so light that I’d give up at the slightest inconvenience!?”

Altina stretched, deliberately shifting her body weight. A sudden great deal of force pressed down into his stomach.

“Urp!?”

“A. Po. Lo. Gize.”

She loosely rocked her body back and forth. Each time, a terrible strain washed over his stomach. The bed creaked beneath them.

“It’s coming out, it’s coming out, everything I ate at the banquet, I’m gonna throw— I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!”

“Good.”

Her vicious attacks stopped. She let out a long sigh.

“Believing in others is an inevitable part of my job. I’m just glad I got to confirm how you felt.”

“I feel nauseous...”

“Not those kinds of feelings.”

“...What will you do now?”

“A tactician has no means to display his ability without troops, correct?”

“Normally...”

“I’ll do something about that. Leave it to me.”

“Altina... I’m against you doing anything rash.”

“Is that your advice as a tactician? As a comrade who shares my ideals? As a friend? Oh, or maybe...”

“Um, well... as a fifth-grade administrative officer.”

“Right.”

She slowly reached out a hand and pinched Regis by the nose.

“Nn!?”

And as she released her grip, she simultaneously climbed off of his body.

She jumped off the bed as nimbly as a cat. Before his eyes could even register it, she was already at the door.

“Good night, Regis.”

Just like his previous visitor, she left with a smile convinced of something.

The door shut, and—

Silence.

Regis—who had now slightly raised his torso—felt the strength drain from his body as he powerlessly entrusted himself to the bed.

He felt as heavy as lead. He could hear the small birds chirping outside the window.

So many outrageous events had come in succession to rob him of his sleep.

“What is... all of this...”

Through the bandit incident, Regis had come to grips with the state of the border regiment, and there was one thing he was convinced of.

What he needed next was a unification of the power structure. Normalizing Altina and Jerome’s crooked relationship was the top priority.

The ideal would be if Jerome recognized Altina as commander. If that proved impossible, the second best thing... would be for Altina to accept her position as a decorative figurehead.

However, Regis’s own words, of all things, had set her off on her quest to become empress. She would not accept being a decoration, even if this refusal meant the death of her.

What’s more, such a careless administrative officer was desired by both sides—a preposterous occurrence. Jerome only wanted to use Regis as a slight to Altina, but this was developing into a distinct clash of interest.

“...What’s all this, then? Don’t tell me I’m the one behind the worsening of the situation? How could this be? I just wanted to read my books...” He felt like crying.

Ah, that’s right. Let’s read.

His nerves were so on edge, he was certain he wouldn’t fall asleep in a hundred years.

Regis picked a new book from the bookshelf and began flipping through the pages.

“Books sure are nice... I can forget about everything when I read...”

Or at least, he was supposed to forget. His eyes were merely skimming over the words as his head swam with thoughts of other things.

Mending Altina and Jerome’s relationship was probably his responsibility, as he was likely the one to blame for its current state.

An army with two commanders—one in name, the other in practice—was already, in itself, a disaster waiting to happen. He couldn’t think of the right way to handle it.

“And just look at that... I really am incompetent...” Regis lamented as he drifted off to sleep, almost swooning over his open book.