Deal with the Northern Archduchess (2)
[The current Emperor of the Empire, and Crown Prince Maximilian. My goal is to eliminate them both at the perfect timing.]
Ella, who had just uttered the word treason, tilted her head at me as I clamped my mouth shut.
I couldn't deny it.
Considering Himiko's princess's wretched state, the hostages' misery, the pointless resources poured into keeping them in limbo—not dead, not alive—and how it was all just for amusement... they were indeed monsters without blood or tears.
But that didn't mean I could so easily nod along to treason.
I was happy right now, and nothing was pressuring me enough to shatter that bliss.
Even if my conscience stung a little, I could just close my eyes and stay happy on my own.
I desperately changed the subject.
"Then why isn't First Imperial Princess Victoria on that hit list? If we're talking war maniacs, she's no slouch either."
"Even though she enjoys war quite a bit herself?"
"..."
Spot-on insight.
Recalling First Princess's lonely figure awkwardly drifting at the ballroom's edge, she was just a chess piece on a vast board—not a player.
As I stayed silent, Ella added in a leisurely tone.
"There's time?"
"The spring expedition fails once, and the war drags on..."
I quickly calculated the continental situation, weather, and troop movement timings in my head.
If the spring expedition stretches past spring into summer, and Loran holds till then—
Then the Empire's main force would be pinned to the western front.
Seasons change, summer hits with rising non-combat losses, supplies dwindle.
Wait a minute, then—
Suddenly, an old Earth idiom flashed through my mind.
Tian Gao Ma Fei—the sky is high, the horses grow fat.
In modern Korea, it evoked pleasant autumn weather perfect for gaining weight, but originally, it wasn't so leisurely. It warned that northern nomads were fattening horses for raids across the border.
"...Autumn. You're planning a northern war in autumn?"
Ella continued gleefully, as if clapping.
Hearing that, it all clicked.
Autumn, pre-harvest—normally, the Empire could starve out supply-scarce north over time, but right before reaping changes everything.
The Empire faces a dilemma: yield food to the north, or burn it all, alienating the populace.
Ella's voice carried icy certainty.
A staggering strategy.
North invades at precise timing, Loran endures till autumn, palace insiders assassinate Emperor and Crown Prince perfectly—all improbable prerequisites aligning. But success rewrites history.
Yet doubts swelled in my mind.
"...Hearing this makes me want to ask more. Why tell me the whole plan? I'm just a powerless hostage in this vast Empire."
"...?"
The Archduchess's tone grew earnest.
"Golden Retriever? Yeah, I know 'em well."
"..."
"Fair point, but... I'm not risking my life for you."
"Why me, specifically?"
"..."
"Archduchess..."
As her farewell faded from my ears, the eerie silver glow staining Arthur's eyes drained away like receding water.
"Ugh, urgh..."
Arthur blinked, his eyes returning to their deep purple, face blank.
He seemed oblivious to what he'd done, scratching his massive head with a giant hand.
"Wha—what? What was I doing here? Told you to wash up and sleep, right...?"
"...Yes. Your Highness was just about to leave, wishing me a good night."
"Ah, yeah. Right. Been partying nonstop lately—brain's fried. Haha! Anyway, watch the muscle loss. See you tomorrow. Sleep well."
"Yes. Good night, Your Highness."
The clueless Second Prince rubbed his neck and shut the door behind him.
The clank echoed louder, heavier than usual today.
"..."
In the empty, dark room, I stood alone on the sweat-soaked carpet, lost in deep thought.
A colossal wheel of continental fate had begun turning slowly, inexplicably naming me its final cog.
Instinct told me: knowing this far, no going back.
And that I had to choose.