Engagement Period (3)
Karma.
The idea that, someday, the consequences of what you've done will come back around to find you.
Well, I did cause more than my fair share of disasters.
The karma waiting for me was plentiful, to say the least. I'd caused no shortage of incidents and committed no shortage of misdeeds. And now the fallout from one of those incidents was coming for me.
About three days after I'd "educated" Elizabeth's maid, I had been formally announced as the kingdom's official fiancé and was staying at the castle. Days with no particular schedule and nothing much to do.
Under ordinary circumstances I would have been diligently pirating, but this felt like I'd suddenly been put on leave. So I was killing time with a little side hustle, living modestly—when it happened.
Knock, knock.
"Young master. Her Majesty the Queen summons you. It's urgent—please come at once."
A servant came looking for me, panting as if he'd run the whole way. Clearly something was urgent, so I hurried after him.
Creak. Thud.
For the first time in a while, I entered the audience chamber. Queen Mary sat on the throne, her ministers arrayed around her. The moment I walked in, every eye turned to me.
"We must seize that man at once!"
"Nonsense. That would only make things worse! Hearing an explanation first takes priority!"
"Explanation? What explanation? Isn't it obvious!"
The ministers were shouting at one another, voices raised. Among them, a man in armor was bellowing that I should be bound and seized.
Seize me?
Damn. Had my side hustle gotten found out? With so little to do, I'd been shaking down the maids and servants a bit—looked like I'd finally been caught.
"Silence."
The queen's voice rang out softly. At that single quiet word, the entire audience chamber fell still in an instant.
"Chamberlain."
"Ah—yes, Your Majesty."
At Queen Mary's indication, the chamberlain stepped forward and faced me.
"Young master. Word has it that Duke Vargas is approaching with a fleet. We will need an explanation of just what is going on."
Honestly, I would have preferred it if it had just been about the side hustle. Father was coming here. To catch the son who'd caused trouble.
The open sea. Nearly a hundred ships floated on the water. Their hulls were massive, most of them painted a pitch-black darkness. From the sails of every ship, the same flag billowed—a long sea serpent on a field of red. The Iron Fleet of Vargas.
And among them all, the largest: the flagship, boasting a body of black iron. The ship Father loved more than anything—the Neptune—began entering the harbor. I guarantee you he loves that warship more than he loves Mother.
Boom. Crash—crash—crash.
The ship simply shoved aside the other vessels moored in the harbor as it came in. Smaller boats were smashed to pieces, and those who hadn't managed to evacuate in time, regrettably—the sea ran red. After crushing a couple more piers, the ship settled into its berth with a heavy boom.
A gangway lowered from the ship. People had fled to a distance and watched, holding their breath, to see who would descend. The first to come down were the guards. Clad in full plate, they disembarked first, and then a familiar figure followed.
Father.
It had been a long time, but I wasn't glad to see him.
Upon hearing that Father was coming, I had come to White Harbor, the foremost port city of the Lancart Kingdom—partly to greet him in advance, and partly to learn his intentions first. In a sense, I had been sent as an envoy.
"Father. Welcome."
"Yes."
Father answered shortly, regarding me with indifferent eyes. I could never tell what those deeply sunken eyes were thinking as they looked at me.
"If you would follow me to the reception room for now."
A voice came from beside me. It was the same man who'd been shouting that I should be seized earlier—he, too, had been sent as an envoy. Sir Hubert, was it? He had been granted full authority by the queen and ordered to determine whether this constituted a state of war. A typical, straightforward soldier type.
We headed for the reception room. Father followed with four of his guards—two he left outside the door, two he brought inside. Sir Hubert spoke first.
"You have invaded our kingdom without any prior correspondence. There must be a legitimate reason for this."
A rather blunt tone. I went cold. Talking to Father like that.
Father stared at Hubert for a long moment before speaking.
"The reason is simple enough. I came because I have something to discuss with my son alone."
"Alone? That won't do. Since we don't know for what purpose you've come, I'll hear it as well."
"I don't say things twice. Leave."
Father truly was not a man who repeated himself. I was about to tell Sir Hubert that it would be better if he stepped outside, but—
"I refuse. And you'd do well to carefully consider your own position."
Sir Hubert spoke first. Tension hung in the air for a moment. What broke it was Father. He gestured to the guard behind him, and—
"W-wait, what are you—"
Whoosh. Crack.
The guard swung his halberd and crushed Sir Hubert's head. Well then.
I brushed the fragments off my face and looked at Father.
"This puts me in a difficult position, Father."
"Difficult, nothing. So this is what you've been up to—playing the dog for a country like this."
"Playing the dog? I simply came out to greet you. More importantly—why did you really come here?"
"Originally, I set sail to capture you."
As I thought. He'd brought the whole fleet just to drag me back by force, no doubt.
"But I've changed my mind."
"Changed your mind?"
Was he going to permit the marriage? I'd been fretting over how to persuade him, so this was welcome news.
"Between every incident you've caused up until now and this latest one—I originally planned to capture you, lock you up, or kill you."
…So he'd even considered killing me.
"But the situation has changed. Do you know what's happening in the Empire right now?"
"The Empire? Isn't it always the same?"
The emperor, the pope, and the nobles playing their political games, no doubt. But Father answered firmly.
"No. The Empire is going mad."
What he said next was shocking.
"The First Prince, the Second Prince. The Grand Duke of the North, the Admiral of the South. Every last one of them has fallen for a single woman."
"What?"
Those men were among the greatest powers in the Empire, and they'd all fallen for one woman? Women were everywhere—so why? When I voiced that question, Father answered.
"I don't know the precise reason either. Either the woman is that beautiful, she's that valuable politically, or—well—she's using magic, I suppose."
Magic. Father had been joking, but after what I'd recently heard about Queen Mary, a suspicious thought crossed my mind.
Father's explanation continued as follows: those four men at the pinnacle of imperial power had fallen for one woman and were tearing each other apart over her.
"This is an opportunity, my son."
Father—no, the Duke of Vargas—his eyes gleamed.
"If the Empire staggers just a little more—if that woman wrecks the country just a little further—we can become independent. No more disarmament, no more restrictions—"
Not his usual calm voice, but one trembling with excitement.
"—we can stand once more at the summit of the seas."
It was a side of him I'd never seen before. I swallowed dryly.
"…What do you need me to do?"
"Power. We need more power. A navy alone won't cut it."
"You mean an army. This Lancart Kingdom's."
The Lancart Kingdom's navy was garbage, but its army—led by cavalry—was considerable.
"Exactly. And so, my son—there is a role for you to play."
At Father's signal, a guard produced two portraits from his coat. The faces in them were familiar: Mary Tudor and Elizabeth Tudor.
Father pointed first at Mary Tudor.
"The real power holder, but short on legitimacy. Her hunger for power is considerable, and as you know, she is your fiancée."
Next, Elizabeth Tudor.
"Outstanding in both justification and legitimacy—but already cast out. A successor in name only."
It seemed Father had already finished his background investigation. He had the political situation of the Lancart Kingdom figured out. What he said next was this:
"Seize power by any means necessary, my son."
Enough power to mobilize the soldiers of the Lancart Kingdom against the Empire. Become the kingdom's supreme power broker. Mary Tudor? Use her. Marry her and put her to whatever use you see fit.
"But Mary Tudor is no easy opponent."
Whether she was a witch or not was still uncertain, but she was undeniably a woman of formidable skill.
"Then kill her."
"What?"
"You have another candidate, don't you?"
Father pointed at Elizabeth Tudor's portrait. If Mary Tudor proved too difficult, kill her and remarry Elizabeth Tudor. After that, the same. Swallow the kingdom whole.
"I will permanently station fifty ships of the fleet here."
Three hundred men per ship—fifteen thousand in total.
"Lead them in a coup to reinstate Elizabeth, or grant Mary Tudor absolute power—whichever you choose."
Elevate one of them to the top, and you yourself become the true—
"Become king."
That was the absolute command Father laid upon me. After that, he boarded his ship and left, leaving behind the words: become a son he could be proud of.
How had things come to this?
All I'd wanted was to escape Lady Roent and live with a beautiful wife. All I'd wanted was to get far away from this pirate family.
Mary Tudor. A woman with a terrible personality who looked wicked, a beautiful face, and an absurdly voluptuous figure—utterly alluring. The kingdom's actual ruler.
Elizabeth Tudor. Cute, pretty-faced, with a personality that seemed far too kind. The ostracized princess of the palace.
I had to seduce one of them and somehow become the supreme power myself. Just imagining it was complicated enough.
Fuck.
Looks like I proposed to the wrong person after all.