Take Kruzenstein's Hand
Two weeks later.
Leona regarded Adelheid von Ignati, who had been summoned to her castle.
She rose from her seat and strode across the floor. Coming to a halt before Adelheid, she took the woman's chin in her hand and studied her face with deliberate care.
"You have quite a fine face."
Calling her a peerless beauty would have been a stretch, but she was pretty enough by any measure. More than that, she carried the distinctly aristocratic air of a great house.
Adelheid, for her part, was simply flustered. She had heard that some women preferred the company of other women in that particular way — was her new lord someone of such tastes?
"Say something. Anything."
"Pardon? But I hardly know what I ought to say…"
"Your voice is fine as well."
Adelheid von Ignati's face grew redder by the moment — until the misunderstanding was cleared away.
"The princess knows little of House Kruzenstein. Under those circumstances, sending someone with a pleasing appearance and a pleasing voice can only help make a favorable impression. And Ignati is a great house among great houses. It has fallen low for now — which may make it all the better."
"Because the Imperial House has fallen as well."
"Indeed. When you meet the princess, foster as much kinship as you can. Make her trust you. Make her depend on you. Can you do it?"
"Pardon? You mean Her Highness the Princess?"
"Hmm? Have you heard nothing yet? Your mission is to bring Her Highness the Princess from House Stenia."
"…!"
Adelheid von Ignati thought it over. This was going to be an extraordinarily difficult assignment. But if she succeeded…
Rising in the world is no mere dream!
This was an opportunity. A chance to leave a deep impression on her lord.
With that resolve, Ignati set out for House Stenia with only a handful of attendants.
Meanwhile, the Crown Prince's younger sister — Princess Blasia von Arcadia — was preparing her return to the Imperial Capital of Arcadia.
She had been successfully laying the groundwork for her claim to the next imperial throne: winning over the powerful nobles around Arcadia, securing the support of retired imperial elders. The problem was that, for all her success in gathering legitimacy and noble backing, she had no direct military force of her own.
House Ambrosia, hegemon of the central regions, commanded a staggering military of over a hundred thousand. To stand against them, she needed an allied house of comparable strength — and no such house existed in the center.
House Stenia, with whom she currently sheltered, was itself a powerful and prestigious family. The trouble lay in the temperament of its lord. The head of House Stenia was a self-preservationist — the sort of man who moved to protect what he already held rather than risk his life for new power. Stenia had no intention of making an enemy of the central hegemon. The only reason they had not cast Blasia out was that expelling an imperial who had sought refuge with them would earn the hostility of the royalist faction.
Is there no one who can stand against House Ambrosia…?
The world was full of powerful houses. But each was absorbed in its own expansion and its own wars, and none had the leisure to concern itself with imperial affairs. She had come here believing House Stenia at least was reliable — only to find that its lord, too, had no intention of moving.
Never mind the strength to resist them. There is no one who even has the will.
Well — who could stand against House Ambrosia? A great house with over a hundred thousand troops.
Must I abandon the dream of the throne…?
It was in the midst of such thoughts that one of Blasia's attendants brought her a confidential report: an envoy from House Kruzenstein wished to meet her.
Kruzenstein…
The house that had recently crushed its rival, House Setia, and risen to prominence. Its new lord was said to be an exceptional figure, one who displayed tremendous ability in war.
House Kruzenstein could field perhaps fifty thousand. But they were said to fight well, were they not? In that case, they might possess enough strength to oppose House Ambrosia. The thought took hold of her.
"Where is the envoy from House Kruzenstein?"
"They say they will wait at midnight in a teahouse called A Midsummer Night's Dream, in Seongha Village."
"Tell them I shall come without fail — and that they must be there."
"Yes, Your Highness."
That was the first meeting between Blasia and Adelheid von Ignati.
Midnight that same day. The teahouse in Seongha Village.
Blasia sat with a gray robe drawn over her head to hide her conspicuous features. Across from her sat a beautiful noblewoman.
"I present myself before Her Highness the Princess."
A face more noble than knightly in its beauty, flawless capital etiquette, and a lovely voice to match. She was the very picture of a scion of a great house — as if painted into existence.
"You appear to be the child of a distinguished house. What is your name?"
"Adelheid von Ignati."
"Ignati…"
Ignati was a distant collateral line of the imperial blood. A great house indeed.
And such a person is with Kruzenstein…
The house alone would not have been remarkable. The beauty alone would not have been remarkable. But this woman — a scion of a great house who radiated such a distinctive presence — felt special to Blasia.
"A vassal of Kruzenstein, then?"
"Yes. That is correct."
For a time, Blasia and Adelheid exchanged small talk — the recent state of House Kruzenstein, life under House Stenia. Then, without warning, Ignati asked:
"Forgive my impertinence, but does Your Highness believe that House Stenia intends to elevate you to the throne?"
"…"
Blasia could not open her mouth. Truthfully, she already knew that House Stenia had no intention of helping her. Stenia was weak, and Ambrosia was strong.
"From where I sit, it does not appear so."
"In that case — do you mean to abandon the succession?"
Clang! A sharp, clattering sound rang through the room. Blasia had flung the fork she was holding to the floor. It had been a flash of temper — and the moment she realized the mistake, she picked the fork back up, set it on the table, and lowered her voice.
"How could I possibly? His Highness the Crown Prince — my elder brother — was murdered. The authority of the Imperial House has been trampled. I will not abandon this until everything has been set back in its proper place."
"In that case…"
Adelheid von Ignati extended her hand.
"Take Kruzenstein's hand."
A mere noble offering her hand to a child of the Imperial House. It was a breach of etiquette. But Blasia did not call it out. She knew the atmosphere would not permit it. Her political life hung in the balance. Against that, etiquette barely registered.
"Lord Kruzenstein looks upon the whole of the realm. She is not like other ordinary rulers. To her, House Ambrosia is a sworn enemy that must one day be brought down. Your Highness need only use House Kruzenstein to topple Ambrosia — and then ascend the throne."
Blasia pictured herself after becoming emperor.
"If that happens…"
"Yes?"
"Would the future me not become Kruzenstein's puppet?"
The ideal picture was three or more houses uniting to bring down Ambrosia. Then the various houses would compete for Blasia's favor, and power would naturally gather in her hands.
But if House Kruzenstein alone toppled Ambrosia? Kruzenstein would rise beyond a mere meritorious vassal to become the true power. Blasia would be nothing more than a scarecrow who lent the name of authority — an emperor in name only. A scarecrow wearing a crown.
"Then do you consider your present circumstances better than being a scarecrow emperor?"
"…"
"A power struggle with Lady Leona is a matter for later. First, you must become emperor. As you are now — not even emperor — Your Highness is less than a scarecrow."
"…"
She was right. Blasia found herself nodding before she knew it. Was she truly better off than a scarecrow emperor? No. She was not even an emperor. She was nothing more than a doll.
"Very well."
Blasia murmured the words.
"I will take your hand."
Even if the one on the other end was the inscrutable Leona von Kruzenstein.
"Whether the other party is a devil or an angel — it makes no difference."
She did not know what lay inside Leona von Kruzenstein.
"If she can make me emperor…"
For the glory of the Imperial House to be restored — she would do anything.
The next day, Princess Blasia von Arcadia packed only light luggage and set out for House Kruzenstein with her attendants. Her calculation was simple: the warlike Kruzenstein would be of far more use than the self-preserving Stenia.
And one month later — when the princess and Leona first faced each other — Leona bowed her head in accordance with imperial etiquette.
"So you are Leona von Kruzenstein."
"Yes."
"Raise your head."
"Yes."
The two of them regarded each other in silence.
So this is Leona von Kruzenstein… What an oppressive presence…
So this is the younger sister of the Swordmaster Crown Prince. Indeed — she lives up to the name of the Imperial House.
For a time they simply studied each other's faces. It was Leona who spoke first.
"From this day forward, I shall devote my full strength to reclaiming the capital for His Majesty the Emperor. I look forward to working with you."
"His Majesty the Emperor? Retract that. I am not yet emperor."
"You will be soon enough."
A light kindled in Leona's eyes.
"I will make it so."
Leona would make Blasia emperor. And then, with Blasia as her puppet, she would steer the empire herself. Having resolved as much, Blasia was already, in Leona's mind, as good as emperor.