Solstice Schemes
The luncheon shared by Armed and her fiancé passed like a storm.
She had declared it outright: “If my presence beside you two is that unsettling, fine. I’ll leave.” Her attitude dripped with sarcasm.
Even though the strongest rival in the Ket family succession dispute had announced she would depart the land entirely, her competitors could not smile.
Ermiha and her mother, Esarg Ket, poured every effort into deciphering Armed’s true intentions.
“Mother. Is that Kriel truly the real Sir Kriel?”
“Since Dein already warned us of the possibility, we must assume it is. Armed isn’t the type to settle for some mere impostor as her partner.”
Ermiha sighed and beckoned to their counselor.
“Yes, my lady and young mistress.”
A hand placed over the chest. Though shaped like a human’s, the distinct ball joints were clearly visible. Each finger was delicately adorned with gold, making the hand itself resemble a work of art.
“What do you believe Armed’s intention is?”
“At present, Armed is, by anyone’s measure, the strongest claimant to the Ket family succession. You and the young master, regrettably, would fall short even if you combined your strength.”
“…I know that.”
Ermiha bit her lip but acknowledged the truth. Solving any problem begins with accurately understanding it.
“Therefore, there are two possible scenarios. First, Armed truly has no interest in the Ket family.”
During the meal, Armed Ket had declared she would gradually relocate her operations to her own territory, even taking time to move the entire Abyss Prevention Society building. She would still visit Ket County occasionally to gather magical samples, but that was all.
“Second. It is groundwork laid before conquest.”
“Groundwork?”
“Yes. If Sir Kriel is revealed to be the Wraith King’s true rival, the people’s support for Armed will become unshakable. In that situation, if Armed leaves Ket County, how would it appear to the citizens?”
The first heir, who had already lost her mother, was being driven out through a conspiracy between the two wives and the other successors….
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yet the circumstances point exactly there. The sudden departure of an overwhelmingly dominant figure from the territory is something anyone would find suspicious. The public’s reasoning always gravitates toward the most sensational explanation.”
“Indeed, Dein.”
At Countess Esarg’s call, Dein turned its head toward her.
“What course of action do you believe we should take?”
“The worst option is slander and defamation against Armed.”
“Not even worth discussing.”
Any such attempt would only solidify the support of Ket County’s people. Especially with Sir Kriel standing at her side.
“The middle option is to do nothing.”
“Just sit back and watch?”
“In truth, if Armed were willing to accept a stain on her honor, she could end the succession war immediately with her power and resources. The fact that she continues to make these concessions suggests her stated reason—‘I have no desire to involve myself in politics’—remains genuine.”
Dein added one more remark.
‘Though it is also possible she is simply waiting for resentment toward the county to reach its peak before seizing the seat from the next lord with minimal effort.’
Countess Esarg regarded the ancient servant.
“If there is a worst and a middle option, there must also be a best one?”
“Of course, my lady. There is an optimal path that eliminates future troubles in advance… but it carries considerable risk….”
Kriel emerged from the suffocating political arena having thoroughly enjoyed the fine meal.
From the beginning he had been nothing more than a swordsman with no connection to politics, and Armed had told him, “Just eat your food. I’ll handle everything.”
‘Still, the way she instantly saw through the problem between Gabi and me back in Argentlam Duchy… she doesn’t seem completely devoid of political sense.’
Maybe he should teach her a few things in advance for the social gatherings they would attend together later.
Just as Armed was mentally drafting an imperial noble conversation curriculum starting from the basics—
“There was a rather peculiar-looking retainer beside the countesses.”
“Peculiar? Ah.”
Armed nodded. She had immediately guessed who he meant.
“You mean the ones wearing robes with those strange finger joints?”
“Yes. Prosthetics?”
“Prosthetics would be accurate. They are artificially made arms, after all. Though it’s not just the arms—the entire body is. They’re automatons.”
“Wait, are these the things he fought every day in the western army?”
“Why the hell are they here?!”
When Kriel recoiled in shock, Armed waved her hands as if to calm him.
“Nayd and Dein. They are our family’s long-standing advisors.”
Ket County lay close to the mountain range inhabited by dwarves, so political marriages with them were common. Nayd and Dein were twin automatons brought as dowry by a dwarf bridegroom from a very ancient house.
“Is it safe to leave them be? The automatons I saw in the west were all insane relics that killed people. If these are high-end automaton dolls, they’d be even smarter about it.”
“Nayd and Dein would indeed be classified as automaton dolls, but it should be fine. They have served the family for at least a hundred years.”
Armed explained that although they were relics from the ancient dwarf era, they had undergone continuous modernization and were essentially disconnected from the western automatons.
“Nayd is the male model, Dein the female. They offer differing perspectives on any given issue, helping the lord reach more objective decisions. That’s why one is currently aligned with Hekedian and the other with Ermiha.”
“And your side?”
“I already left. Whose side could they possibly take?”
Armed shrugged as if it were nothing.
Unexpectedly, the two countesses silently approved inserting Armed and Kriel’s engagement ceremony into the main event of the winter solstice festival.
Though called a festival, its actual substance was modest. One grand banquet freely distributing the meat and provisions the county had stockpiled. The only truly ceremonial part was the burning of the misfortune effigy after the evening feast, once night had fully settled.
They gathered the straw left after the year’s harvest and built a colossal effigy. The citizens wrote down the disasters, misfortunes, or grudges they had suffered that year and stuffed them inside. Once the doll’s belly was filled with everyone’s resentment, they dragged it outside the city gates and set it ablaze. It was a rite that declared all the year’s resentment ended here, praying for good fortune in the coming year.
The officiant who traditionally led the festival was the lord or their heir. The countesses granted Armed full authority over the effigy burning and urged her to announce the engagement before the people. In other words, since she was leaving anyway, they might as well throw her a grand farewell.
It was an offer Armed had no reason to refuse.
“Well. There were a few stipulations attached. Besides announcing the engagement, they also wanted me to clearly state my position on the succession rights.”
“I see. It will be an official public renunciation of your claim, performed before all the people.”
“This much hassle is worth enduring. The solstice is in two days. The clothes from old man Jude have arrived, so try them on.”
“Is this truly correct, Nayd?”
Hekedian asked in a trembling voice.
Nayd nodded with unwavering certainty.
“It is certain. Coincidentally, Dein reached the same conclusion.”
“But… to hand the position of festival officiant to my sister. You know what that role signifies, don’t you?”
“Precisely because of that, young master. If Armed refuses even the lord’s seat in such a public setting, the citizens will understand how firm her resolve is.”
Hekedian let out a long sigh and thought of his mother. She had always been a woman of few words, but ever since the Wraith King incident she had simply watched her son’s struggles in silence, saying only, “It is time for you to stand on your own.” Dwarves raised their children strictly, it seemed. At least she had accompanied him to events like the luncheon. Facing Ermiha or Countess Esarg alone would have been impossible.
“Nayd. I’m going to rest for a while. Please send my regards to Mother.”
“Of course, young master. It is my pleasure.”
After the young master left, Nayd reviewed the plan once more.
In truth, what Armed would be entrusted with on the day of the solstice was not merely the role of festival conductor. At that event, the two countesses intended to declare that Armed was “fit to serve as countess of the territory.” According to its analysis, the probability that Armed would refuse the title outright was high. Dein had agreed. Thus the citizens would witness a beautiful, peaceful transfer of power: the countesses setting aside their own interests to offer her the seat, and Armed graciously declining before departing.
And that was where it would begin.
Nayd went to the countess’s chambers as the young master had requested. The countess stared expressionlessly into empty space.
“What business do you have at this hour?”
It was the reaction programmed in advance. No unexpected variables appeared during the verification.
“What business do you have?”
“What business do you have?”
“What business do you have?”
The same phrase repeated several times. The tone was flat, yet it constituted a form of protest. Nayd answered with its characteristically inhuman smile.
“My lady. The young master is safe. Therefore, please be at ease.”
Silence.