The Second Counsel
"What are your thoughts on Dedorant?"
The moment those words left Charlois's mouth, my mind snapped wide awake. She was hardly the type to raise a subject like this without reason. Until a moment ago, she'd been showering me with praise — which meant that everything up to now had merely been the opening pleasantries. The real discussion was about to begin, along with the reason she had sought me out in the first place — one she couldn't state outright.
"Hmm."
Naturally, laying my cards on the table right away was out of the question. Gauge the other party first. She was no enemy, but neither was she a full ally — I needed at least a sense of what this woman was thinking.
"What sort of answer are you looking for, exactly?"
"Whatever do you mean, Lord Cael?"
"Whether you want the answer required of me as heir to an Imperial Count, or one offered from my entirely personal convictions. That's what I'd like to know, Lady Charlois."
The Empire's leadership currently regarded Dedorant as an unambiguous enemy of the future. That was precisely why the Emperor, the Crown Princess, and the First Prince had all gathered to discuss the matter. But it remained strictly unofficial — something that must never come to light. For now, the Empire needed to project an air of easy laughter and the pursuit of peace. In the north, the east, and now the south besides, the Empire had already flexed its military might far too often. If words like "aggressor nation" started getting thrown our way on top of it all, things would become exceedingly tiresome.
Hence my question: was she asking me, as heir to an Imperial Count, for the customary diplomatic platitudes? Or did she want my personal, unvarnished opinion — words carrying no official weight whatsoever?
"Lord Cael."
At that, Charlois drew an answer out of me in a rather unexpected way.
"Some time ago, my father sent me a most confidential piece of news."
"By your father, you mean the Chairman of the Demon Council—"
"Atria has apparently been sending envoys toward Novogord, continuously, of late."
At those words, I found myself staring at her almost reflexively. Was this woman playing games with me? Was she some perverse demonkin who tossed out absurd claims just to savor people's reactions? A dozen thoughts raced through my head — but a glance at her expression settled it at once. That intelligence was real. And with it, she had answered my question.
"…How very like an honest enemy of the Empire, resorting to exactly the sort of underhanded maneuvering one would expect."
Next, I had to parse her intent. Why had Charlois said such a thing? As far as I knew, even the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was unaware of this development. Which meant, just as she claimed, this was a secret within a secret — something Novogord was gritting its teeth to keep buried.
"But at the same time, I worry that Novogord may not be so very different from that Dedorant."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you carry on secret talks with them while hiding it from the Empire, to whom you promised peace — and now you, of all people, someone who must absolutely never breathe a word of it, are telling me all this."
Charlois betraying Novogord and defecting to the Empire? Not a chance. There existed no reason whatsoever for a woman like her to do such a thing. Betraying one's homeland demands a cause worthy of the crime — rage, perhaps, or greed, or else some twisted strain of patriotism. Charlois fit none of those. Which meant that even this impossible revelation of hers could be a trap.
"You see, Lord Cael, the moment I watched Dedorant rise, I felt an inexplicable chill."
"A chill, you say."
"We have a saying in Novogord: a beast that has tasted demon blood is never left alive."
"The Empire has a similar saying."
"Then this conversation should move quickly. That is precisely what Dedorant is. They will never stop — no, rather…"
"A rampaging beast that cannot stop. Is that what you wished to say?"
Charlois gave a slow nod. A beast that has tasted human blood. It was, undeniably, an apt description. Dedorant had thoroughly acquired a taste for growing through conquest alone. Theirs was the mindset that any losses could simply be recouped through the next war of annexation — and indeed, they had done exactly that all along, and it had served them well in many respects.
"I hoped it was nothing more than my own misreading. But the news that followed served only as further proof."
"The forcible seizure of the Jugel Region. The annexation of Atria. The assault on De Gaulle and the acquisition of its western territories. And now an alliance with Benito, granting them influence in the south, however modest."
"The Empire must already be preparing for a showdown with Dedorant. That's why they quietly withdrew their legions from the south and began making thorough preparations for what comes next."
Sharp. She wasn't even an imperial official, yet she already knew a great deal. Charlois then remarked that Novogord had only just caught word of developments in the east, and commented on what remarkable fortune the Empire seemed to enjoy.
"Dedorant isn't merely expanding its borders. You understand as well as I do, Lord Cael—"
"They mean to forge a new order in the west. It may even be the construction of an entirely new empire."
"And someday, no doubt, they intend to ready themselves for a decisive clash with the Empire."
"Their backchannel with Novogord through Atria is simply one of the roads leading there."
Having said that much, I regarded Charlois quietly. Frankly, I couldn't quite grasp why she had made this choice. A direct confrontation with the Empire was madness — for Novogord and Dedorant alike. But if the two of them allied? If the south could be brought into the fold as well? That madness would tip over into genuine possibility. Even if they could not win the clash with the Empire, it wouldn't matter; merely sustaining the standoff would successfully check the Empire's headlong advance. It would amount to building a vast anti-imperial coalition.
In recent years, the Empire had spent too much strength and far too much coin. No — those burdens, at least, could somehow be managed. The true danger was that the Empire stood to lose too much of its justification. The Empire was unquestionably the strongest power on the continent, but it could hardly paper over resentment rising on every side. Temporarily, perhaps — garrison troops, suppress dissent by force. But that was a stopgap. It would not last. In the end, it would mean eating away at our own flesh.
"Watching how things have unfolded, two things at least became certain to me. First, the Empire is not the sort to withdraw the hand it has extended and then strike at backs. Second, Dedorant is entirely capable of exactly that."
"Why do you believe that, Lady Charlois?"
"They raised the cry of the glory of the Deo people and began everything on that basis — and now they have opened a spectacle of enormous scale. The annexation of Atria, the assault on De Gaulle, influence over parts of the south after their alliance with Benito, and now the unification of the west."
Charlois paused for a moment, then looked me straight in the eye.
"Would people like that truly honor a promise to Novogord? Once the Empire's influence has been reduced to their satisfaction — will they give up what was pledged, and keep faith with it forever after?"
This was Dedorant, after all — the nation that had wrenched away the Jugel Region, which De Gaulle had acquired legitimately, with nothing but manufactured pretexts. When they struck De Gaulle's west, when they allied with Benito and marched into its lands, again and again they brandished reasons that anyone could see were wild stretches and simply shrugged — so what of it? Charlois clearly had her guard up against precisely that. She seemed convinced that Dedorant simply could not be trusted.
"There are those in this world you may trust once, and those you must never trust at all. Fools, blinded by immediate gain, will extend their hands even to the latter — but I have no intention of joining them."
"So you produced this top-secret intelligence. It could put you in quite a difficult position, you realize."
"I judged that to persuade the Empire's finest strategist, a certain measure of sincerity was the proper offering. Besides, knowing the skill of your Ministry of Special Affairs, you would have uncovered it sooner or later regardless."
Having heard her out, I slowly took stock of the situation. Dedorant was courting Novogord — inviting them to join their side of the board. Help us check the Empire, they were saying, and we will share the spoils that follow. I couldn't know the details, but apparently the proposal was swaying Novogord, little by little.
And in the midst of it, Charlois was certain Dedorant would never honor its promises. These were people pushing ever forward to a degree that seemed less like a path to dominance than simple overreach. Would those who trumpeted nothing but the glory of their own people truly share it with anyone? Wasn't theirs a rampaging beast, liable to sink its fangs into your back the moment the winds shifted?
If Dedorant and Novogord join hands…
I didn't even want to imagine it. The northern front would reopen at once. We would have to fight a pitched battle against a race born for war, on an entirely different tier from the east or the south. The Empire's west and north already lay dangerously close together as it was. Facing Dedorant and Novogord simultaneously, a gap was bound to open somewhere.
"Lord Cael. What I want is the survival of Novogord — its peace, and its prosperity."
"Is that so."
"The hardliners insist that war can secure those things. Many demonkin believe it too. But if we truly resolve upon that course, then we will find ourselves facing you once again."
"…"
"And just as the three eastern kingdoms did, and just as Benito in the south did — we would end up broken wretches, gnawing forever on the shattered glories of our past."
Charlois spoke with the tone of absolute conviction, her gaze fixed on me. If I glimpsed a faint trace of fear lingering in those eyes, perhaps it was only my imagination.
"I would like to know why you told me this first."
"Though I am of the moderate faction, with leanings friendly to the Empire, I have no intention of betraying Novogord. I know all too well what would happen if this were made public."
"I understand."
"And so, I would ask for your counsel — as you gave it before. We will listen closely. The Empire and Novogord, Novogord and the Empire — I want a plan that brings benefit to both."
She was hardly going to be satisfied with something along the lines of "ignore every human coming out of Atria." That answer was too obvious, too easy — a conclusion Charlois herself had surely already reached. What she was asking for was something several moves beyond it.
"If I offer this counsel, what does the Empire gain?"
"The same as it gained in the east and the south — a far firmer supporter in the north."
At her answer, I said nothing and merely smiled. That alone would not suffice — meaning something more was required. Charlois seemed to read my meaning, and opened her mouth again.
"Then what more do you want?"
"Simple. I want the demon race to bleed alongside the Empire."
Friends in word alone — is that what a friend is? You have to suffer together, too. In truth, the counsel I had been turning over in my mind had been conceived with exactly this in mind. Willing or not, when two peoples shed the same blood over the same foe — what do you call that, if not comrades-in-arms?