Chapter 145: The Stablehand and the Princess
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 145: The Stablehand and the Princess
Ferda questioned William once more, his voice laced with disbelief.
“You don’t mean they cut her share by three percent? You mean her total share is only three percent?”
—That is correct, Regent. It is a figure so low that even I find it hard to believe as I explain it to you.
By any objective measure, Olivia’s contribution stood at a staggering 45%. Even if they had tried to downplay her role as much as possible, 30% would have been the bare minimum for a fair assessment. Ferda asked William how such an absurdly low figure could have even been proposed.
To summarize the Empire's reasoning in a single sentence: it was all attributed to luck.
The issue raised was that while Olivia had been educated in the refinements of a princess, she had never formally studied leadership or military tactics. Therefore, the Empire’s official stance was that even if her decisions proved correct, it was dangerous for someone untrained in strategy to command an army. They went so far as to claim she was lucky not to be court-martialed for endangering the troops.
Furthermore, they argued that she had put the army at risk by ordering the formation of a pursuit battalion using aggressive tactics midway through the campaign. Thus, while she had served as Chief of Staff, they claimed the bulk of the credit should go to the officers who performed the actual labor.
The fact that Alexander had personally greeted and praised each of them was a calculated move to undermine Olivia.
“I believe I gave you a certain document. Did you not use it to counter them?”
—I did. They used the data you provided to argue for the validity of her actions, but it lacked sufficient weight.
“Why?”
—Crucially, Duke Ruthenia’s son remained silent.
Ruthenia had served as the Vice Chief of Staff and the second-in-command of the temporary alliance. In terms of actual contribution, he was ranked second only to Olivia, at 15%.
“What was his final percentage?”
—Thirty percent.
He had good reason to stay silent, then.
The man had boldly snatched away a third of Olivia’s credit. Naturally, the highest medal of honor that should have gone to Olivia would now be his. Ferda could clearly envision how the process had unfolded.
They had turned the spoils of war into a zero-sum game.
The young nobles and knights had been enticed with a simple logic: if their slice of the pie was to grow, someone else’s had to shrink. To increase their own shares and claim greater glory, someone had to be sacrificed. That sacrifice was Olivia, who held nearly half the total credit on her own.
For those whose contributions were so small they wouldn't even have been mentioned, this was a golden opportunity to snatch even a 1% share. They had no reason to refuse.
Sacrifice one to make the many happy.
It was remarkably simple for these men to discard their noble obligations and the code of chivalry.
The Princess was too beautiful. She was far too lovely for the likes of them, and they knew they could never truly have her. Rather than chasing a hollow prize they could never possess, they found it more rational to choose cold, hard profit.
‘Despicable wretches.’
Even so, Ferda could not suppress his disgust. They called her the Flower of the Empire and followed her around like puppies, only to sell her out the moment a treat was dangled before their eyes.
—However, there were some who displayed a true knightly spirit and refused to participate.
“I hope you were among them.”
—Of course. Even if I were to receive credit, my own share is enough. I have no desire for an inflated reward…
“So, what percentage did they recognize for you?”
—They said ten percent.
Ferda glanced at the records Mori had organized. William’s actual contribution was 5%; they had exactly doubled it. Since they had tried to poach Burnell right in front of him, Ferda asked what kind of offer William had received.
—I was offered the position of Guardian Lord of the Imperial Guard.
Guardian Lord. It was a title reserved for the elite among knights, and only those directly under the Imperial Family could hold it. The intention was clear: abandon the Archduchy of Valdrova and come to the capital.
“And did you accept?”
—I accepted it only as an honorary title.
This meant it was a title in name only, without an actual investiture ceremony. For a knight, this was a polite way of declining, signaling that he already served a master.
A Guardian Lord held a status comparable to a Count. Ferda felt a surge of pride knowing William had turned it down.
“When do you plan to return?”
—I was planning to leave tomorrow morning, but I’m going to head out right now. They offered to support me with Teleport Magic…
“There is no need to rush.”
—As the Security Force Captain, shouldn't I fulfill my duties?
He was diligent, indeed.
“Understood. Come to the castle as soon as you arrive. We will hold the bonus ceremony and the banquet the moment you get here.”
—Yes, sir! I will get there as quickly as possible!
* * *
After William returned via Teleport Magic, Ferda distributed bonuses to the tactical infantry who had participated in the war and sponsored a festival. It wasn't difficult, as he already had the supplies for a two-day banquet. Ferda was able to use up the remaining resources that might have gone to waste, and the infantrymen were treated like true war heroes, experiencing noble cuisine they had never tasted before.
Just as he thought things would pass without incident, Ferda’s communication crystal ball flashed blue. Ferda placed his hand on it to connect the telepathy.
—Greetings, Regent! This is Joseph, the Imperial Liaison!
For an Imperial liaison to contact him this late at night meant something significant had happened.
—I am calling to ask if the Princess has perhaps visited Valdrova Castle.
Ferda instinctively frowned.
“Why are you asking me that?”
—I am deeply sorry for asking such an unpleasant question. However, this is a matter that must be concluded quietly and swiftly within the Empire, so I have taken the liberty of reaching out.
Hearing those words, Ferda knew. Olivia had run away.
“My answer is that I do not know. What has happened to the Princess?”
—I am afraid I cannot speak on that matter.
Look at these people.
“Do you think you can just start a conversation and end it with ‘I don’t know’? I have a few theories of my own. What do you think would happen if I started spreading them around? It might not stay a secret for long.”
Faced with an overt threat, the liaison let out several troubled sighs before finally answering.
—As you might expect, the Princess of Arken is currently missing. We are scouring the Imperial Palace and the entire Empire to locate her.
“And now you’re investigating those who crossed the border?”
—That is correct. We are currently cross-referencing entry and exit logs to track her location. Since your Security Force Captain left this evening, he was a subject of investigation.
“I see. If there is any news from this side, I will let you know immediately.”
—Yes, thank you!
With those words and repeated pleas for secrecy, the liaison cut the connection.
“She ran away…”
To be honest, it was understandable. Her 45% contribution had been slashed to 3%, and her path into politics had been thwarted. To Ferda, it felt similar to when he had been branded a public enemy instead of being recognized as a hero.
‘Back then, I didn't even want that hatred.’
But the world had wanted Ferda to be hated. Otherwise, there was no explanation for why such malice had descended upon him. Even now, thinking about those days made his blood boil. Erdes, that wretched woman.
Chewing on that name for a moment, he returned to the subject at hand.
‘Princess Olivia has vanished.’
How did she escape? She was a possessor of a Red Circle and could use light magic, but escaping with magic like Teleport was beyond her. To slip through such heavy security, she would need an accomplice—one willing to take a risk great enough to cost them their head. Not even a noble would be exempt.
‘What does she gain from this?’
Most people would have dismissed it as an emotional outburst from a weak soul. However, Ferda’s first thought was that Olivia was up to something. He couldn't picture her rebelling like a child throwing a tantrum. Through this disappearance, she would surely get what she wanted.
On the other hand, another image flickered in his mind. It wasn't a story of the present, but of a distant future consumed by hatred. She had stood on a balcony railing, a femme fatale who had brought a kingdom to its knees.
For some reason, Ferda thought she resembled him. They were alike in that they had suffered because of their families, hated their families, and sought to kill them all. The only difference was that Ferda had embraced hatred for the sake of revenge, while Olivia had worn a mask. Ferda had succeeded; Olivia had failed.
Olivia had thrown everything away and staged a desperate coup. The imperial children died, but the Emperor remained unscathed. She was human, after all. No matter how well-armored one is with logic and philosophy, before raw emotion, one is but a wall of salt in the rain. No matter how strong the resolve, a human can always crumble.
That was why Ferda decided not to stay idle. He had to find her before anyone else did.
* * *
Ferda left the castle and headed into the forest. As always, the woods were overgrown and chaotic. Specifically, he went to a spot just outside the boundary of Iorga’s spawn.
It was the middle of the night, under a waning crescent moon. Beneath the shadow of the leaves in the dark forest, he closed his eyes. With the conscious act of surrendering one sense, the others amplified terrifyingly. When even the chirping of night insects faded and a faint, unfamiliar scent of sulfur wafted through the air, Ferda quietly called a name.
“Sitri.”
Immediately, he felt a sticky, clinging sensation against his back.
—Did you call, Brother?
She appeared from behind, her snake-like limbs sliding over Ferda’s body as she moved in front of him. It was a ploy intended to cause discomfort, but Ferda showed no emotion and spoke curtly.
“Where is she?”
—Where is what?
“Olivia. I have a feeling you know where that woman is.”
—Hmm? You’re so impatient. Do you think I spend all my time spying on princesses in the Imperial Palace?
“A lecher like you wouldn't miss her.”
Ferda knew. When the Great Demon Sitri seduced humans, she transformed into her most alluring form, and one of those forms was Olivia. Eight times out of ten, she seduced people by appearing as Olivia Arken. In fact, it was her most effective guise. Even if it was a mere copy made by a demon, hundreds had died just for the chance to embrace the Princess.
To Sitri, the useful Olivia was a pet she desperately wanted to possess. No, perhaps even more than that. To claim such a pet, she would be watching for an opportunity, and one of her eyes was undoubtedly fixed on Olivia. Therefore, if he wanted to know the whereabouts of this runaway, she would know best.
—Suppose I do know… why do you need her, Brother? Aren't you devoted solely to the Archduchess?
“I simply have a use for her.”
—Hee-hee. So, after all is said and done, you’re still a man… is that it?
“You keep using human speech to say things only a dog would bark.”
Ferda looked disgusted, but Sitri’s gaze did not waver.
—Then let’s do this, Brother. I’ll try to seduce you in this form for three minutes.
Even in the darkness, Sitri’s form was vivid. The demon’s appearance gradually shifted until she looked exactly like Olivia. Her eyelashes, her lips, even her fingers—everything was identical. Sitri spoke in Olivia’s voice.
—If you can endure for three minutes, I’ll tell you. How about it?
She conjured an hourglass in the air. It was a vulgar game, perfectly suited to her.
“Do as you wish,” Ferda replied with a bored expression.
Sitri flashed a triumphant smile, as if he had fallen right into her trap.
—How foolish. No matter how devoted you are, you’re still a man, aren't you?
She boldly pressed her body against his. The curves he had only seen with his eyes now felt as if they were licking his skin. She breathed against the nape of his neck, teasing him incessantly. Ferda did not resist; he simply let her do as she pleased.
The sticky, erotic sounds marked the passing of each second. He counted roughly three minutes in his head, but the sand in the hourglass was nowhere near finished.
‘She used a cheap trick.’
It wasn't a formal duel, and she had never explicitly stated that the hourglass represented three minutes, so it was expected. Her goal from the start was likely just to shake Ferda and humiliate him.
“It’s over.”
—What? Really?
Ferda gestured toward the hourglass she had summoned. As he said, the sand had long since run out. Sitri, still in Olivia’s form, muttered as if her pride were wounded.
—I swapped it for a four-minute one just in case… and I couldn't even seduce one man in four minutes?
She glared at him venomously with Olivia’s face.
—Brother, are you impotent?
“No.”
—Then why is there no reaction even after seeing a body like this? This makes no sense!
Ferda could answer confidently because he had confirmed he wasn't impotent. More importantly, Ferda knew the real Princess. If she were to act this vulgarly, it would be a turn-off rather than a turn-on.
“Regardless, I won.”
—Hmph. You never lose, do you? It’s infuriating.
She pouted with regret, then suddenly smiled. She seemed to find his stubbornness somewhat charming.
—There was an old story once.
“If this is a riddle—”
—Listen to the end, darling. Have you heard the story of the princess and the stablehand escaping the castle together?
“……I have.”
It was a story of social climbing, one so common that Ferda could recite the lines reflexively even now.
—The answer lies within that story.
At the mention of an answer, Ferda closed his eyes and followed the flow of the tale. He realized what she was trying to imply.
‘…No way.’
It couldn't be. Ferda tried to deny it, but Sitri’s smile only deepened.
—Sweet dreams, Brother.
When Ferda opened his eyes again, Sitri was already gone. Standing alone, he replayed the thought in his mind.
‘Was she lying?’
It wasn't a formal bet, so she had no obligation to tell the truth. But what would she gain from lying? Ferda held Sitri’s leash. If what she said was exactly what he thought it was, there was only one person the "stablehand" could refer to.
‘William.’
The Security Force Captain and the Sword for the People. The conclusion was clear, but Ferda kept wanting to deny it. William was one of the few examples of a true knight that Ferda trusted. There was no way he would have taken the Princess away on his own.
‘But there is no such thing as "never."’
In the first place, the reason William had come to this village was to save the commoners. There was no guarantee that those who had crossed one line wouldn't cross another. Moreover, it explained why he had returned this evening when he could have waited until tomorrow.
Ferda wasn't sure what to do.
‘If I don't know for sure…’
He had to see it with his own eyes. Even if it turned out to be an uncomfortable truth.