The First Victory
One day after Jeanne’s arrival.
A fresh wind swept through Ileang Castle, where only grim tales had circulated until then.
“A report of victory!”
The servant came running, gasping for breath.
His urgency to deliver the news as quickly as possible was plain to see. The messenger who had brought the report to him must have felt the same.
Jeanne, who had been with the king, was among the first to hear it.
It was the first report of victory for the Kingdom of Bluisol.
This time, is it his doing again?
In the midst of nothing but repeated defeats, the news of victory fell like rain on parched ground.
It had been the same in her previous life, and it was the same now.
Jeanne wondered whether the same person had sent this message once more.
“Did you say a report of victory?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The king could not hide his joy.
Even though he had been contemplating fleeing Ileang and seeking asylum in the empire, his desire for his country’s victory was no different from anyone else’s.
For the first time since the war began, Jeanne saw the king smile.
With a noticeably brighter expression, the king asked,
“Well then, who is it from?”
“The Duke of La Rochelle in the south has led the Battle of Jade Bay to victory.”
The sea was so clear and pristine that it resembled jade—hence the name Jade.
Jeanne had no trouble picturing Mathias at Jade Bay.
Mathias. So it really was him.
Although her own actions had caused slight changes, they had not yet altered the overall tide of the war.
The fact that the author of Bluisol’s first victory report was Mathias Flot Sujet La Rochelle remained unchanged.
Jeanne felt even greater admiration than before.
Back then she had simply rejoiced at the fact of victory, but now she knew how difficult it was for a noble with little experience in large-scale warfare to secure one. That made his achievement all the more remarkable.
The servant presented the detailed report Mathias had submitted, bowing deeply as he offered it to the king.
The king accepted the document and read it carefully.
Bluisol Calendar, Year 418, June 28.
We encountered the naval forces led by Rotinzel’s Admiral Walter Martinez at Jade Bay. After a fierce battle lasting a full three hours, we sank seventeen enemy vessels. Many more were lost to the sea, making an exact count impossible, but we estimate at least four hundred enemy casualties.
One of our new recruits, unaccustomed to handling cannons, caused a single friendly injury; however, there were no fatalities. The enemy commander, Walter Martinez, has withdrawn to Plamont Harbor and will likely be unable to advance for some time. We will exert every effort to recapture that location as swiftly as possible.
— Mathias Flot Sujet La Rochelle
The moment he finished reading, a broad smile bloomed across the king’s face.
It was a flawless victory with no casualties inflicted by the enemy.
The significance of this triumph was immense.
It was Bluisol’s first victory after a string of unbroken defeats.
Unlike chess, human wars shift according to morale and justification; the value of each piece changes.
With this, Mathias had kindled a spark called hope.
“The Duke of La Rochelle has rendered a truly great service. When this war ends, I shall bestow upon him a reward befitting his deeds.”
The king’s words carried more weight than gold.
Though he was in no position to grant rewards at present, his personal declaration meant that Mathias would easily earn the king’s favor in the future.
The king returned the report to the servant and left the audience chamber.
Joy at the victory was one thing, but the enemy was already marching on Ileang; they had to hurry and prepare to evacuate once more.
Jeanne took the report from the servant and read it herself.
Normally it would have been forbidden without the king’s permission, yet no one now dared rebuke her.
Even after achieving a great victory, the report was written with calm restraint.
The handwriting was neat, and the content contained no embellishments—only facts. It was a report exactly like Mathias.
Jeanne guessed that he had not grown overly excited because, for him, this was merely the beginning. At the same time, she hoped that calm resolve of his would remain unchanged.
News of the victory at the Battle of Jade Bay spread rapidly through Ileang Castle.
Because it was joyous news, it was deliberately circulated even faster.
Though the victory in the distant south brought no immediate, tangible change, the residents of Ileang were so moved by their side’s triumph that some shed tears.
Divine had continued to linger at Jeanne’s side even after arriving at Ileang.
Fabian, her guard knight, worried that such behavior might offend the king, but since Divine’s position as Jeanne’s strategist now seemed firmly established, he let the matter be.
Divine had also heard of Mathias’s victory.
Unlike the others, he did not rejoice loudly.
Rather, he simply nodded as if to say of course and I knew he would.
“Your friend is truly remarkable.”
“I didn’t recommend him to Your Highness for nothing. He’s a bit rigid, but he has real ability.”
“I know. I firmly believe that he will protect the southern seas for us.”
It would not be an exaggeration to say that the war between Bluisol and Rotinzel had effectively ended with Mathias’s death in her previous life.
He had been the general who defended the country to the very last, Bluisol’s final bastion.
Jeanne believed just as firmly that he would do the same this time.
Divine tilted his head.
“It’s natural for me to trust him since he’s my friend, but I didn’t expect Your Highness to show such trust after meeting him only once.”
“He left quite an impression. Duke Mathias La Rochelle.”
Jeanne recalled Mathias’s appearance.
Even across her entire previous life, she had only seen him once.
The day Divine had introduced him to her.
During the war, Jeanne had fought on land while Mathias remained at the southern seas, so they had never crossed paths again.
Yet that single memory remained vivid in her mind despite the passage of countless years.
Jeanne leaned her back against a pillar in Ileang Castle and lifted her gaze.
Her eyes were not fixed on the ceiling, but on something far beyond—on a memory from a certain point in the past.
Among the royal court officials with whom Jeanne had almost no interaction, the only one she had formed a connection with was Divine.
The twenty-two-year-old newcomer who had just entered government service became the tutor to the thirteen-year-old princess.
Year after year, Divine demonstrated his abilities and steadily rose to higher positions.
Jeanne devoted herself not only to academics but also to rigorous physical training.
Time passed, and when Jeanne turned seventeen, she and Divine seemed to have settled into an ordinary relationship between a high minister and a princess.
It was the very beginning of summer.
Divine asked Jeanne for some of her time. She gladly accepted.
Meeting with a central minister could normally draw the king’s attention and would have been burdensome, but fortunately the king was in the midst of preparing a heavenly ritual, so the court was extremely busy.
Since it was one of the kingdom’s most important ceremonies, all eyes were focused there.
They chose a secluded corner of the palace garden as their meeting place.
Jeanne asked the most trustworthy Fabian to check whether any suspicious persons were nearby, then headed to the appointed spot.
There, beside Divine, stood a man she had never seen before. Jeanne asked Divine,
“And this person is…?”
“An old friend of mine who has recently become the Duke of La Rochelle in the south.”
“Why have you brought your friend before me?”
“Because he is precious to me, I wished to introduce him to Your Highness.”
Divine smiled gently.
His mild, amiable face had a way of unconsciously putting people at ease and lowering their guard.
Even Jeanne, who knew this, momentarily let it slip.
Divine gave the man beside him a light nudge.
Jeanne turned her gaze toward him. He bowed with proper etiquette and introduced himself.
“It is an honor to meet you, Princess Jeanne. I am Mathias Flot Sujet La Rochelle, Duke of La Rochelle.”
He looks remarkably scholarly. That was Jeanne’s first thought upon seeing him.
He certainly gave off the impression of a scholar rather than a warrior. His entire aura suggested as much.
His pale skin, as if it had never seen sunlight, contrasted sharply with his black hair, making him appear even more pallid.
His amethyst-like purple eyes were eerily calm.
Contrary to the prejudice that southern nobles—especially those of House La Rochelle, who originally came from seafaring stock—would be rough and passionate, he was a man as refined as elegant bamboo.
Or perhaps like pristine white snow that had never been sullied.
It might have been nothing more than a first impression, but Jeanne judged that cold reason clearly took precedence in him.
“I am Jeanne Claretmer de Roire. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Jeanne extended her right hand.
A faint look of surprise crossed Mathias’s face, which had seemed incapable of any expression other than neutrality.
He clearly had not expected a member of the royal family to offer a handshake first.
Divine, who knew Jeanne’s true nature, smiled faintly.
Mathias took her hand.
His hand, unlike his refined and delicate features, was covered in calluses.
They were not marks left by holding a pen. They were the traces of gripping a sword and drawing a bowstring.
Since Jeanne herself was well-versed in martial arts, she recognized it immediately.
“Divine told me that Your Highness was unique. I think I understand why, at least a little.”
Mathias repeatedly clenched and opened the hand that had held hers.
He had noticed the same thing. That her hand was rough and firm, unlike those of ordinary royal or noble ladies.
“Unique. It’s better not to use words that invite criticism. Not all members of the royal family are generous, you know.”
“It sounds as though Your Highness is saying that she herself is generous.”
“Now I see why you are Divine’s friend.”
Mathias’s eyes filled with doubt.
“What makes you think so?”
“There’s something strangely irritating about both of you.”
Mathias’s lips curved upward slightly. Jeanne continued,
“One more thing. In the royal palace, it is forbidden to carry weapons unless one has received permission. Even in a secluded garden like this. Be careful.”
Mathias’s hand moved to the sword at his waist.
“In that case, I shall set this sword down.”
Mathias knelt, drew the sword from his belt, and thrust it into the ground.
A knight’s sword is a knight’s life.
To entrust one’s life to another while completely defenseless—that was a knight’s oath.
Jeanne frowned.
“Stand up. What is this sudden act? I am not the king, so I cannot accept this.”
A knight’s oath was something one offered only to the lord one intended to serve for life.
For an ordinary knight to kneel before the noble he served would not be strange, but when that noble was a duke, the situation changed.
The only one who could stand above a high-ranking noble such as a duke was the king himself.
Mathias remained on one knee. He clearly had no intention of rising until Jeanne pulled the sword from the ground and placed it on his shoulder.
Jeanne had no desire to accept his loyalty.
Trust was something that grew only after knowing each other well.
They had met today for the first time. Jeanne could not trust Mathias, nor did she want him to offer blind devotion when he knew nothing about her.
“What do you know about me that you would offer a knight’s oath?”
“Then, if I come to know Your Highness better in the future, will you accept my oath?”
“If you mean to test me with such words, you might as well challenge me to a duel. I will accept it.”
Jeanne deliberately avoided giving a clear answer. Mathias retrieved the sword he had driven into the ground and sheathed it.
“I have no intention of testing Your Highness’s martial skill. Nor do I intend to test what kind of person you are. It is simply that since Divine—who does not easily trust anyone—has chosen you as his future lord, I thought it would be acceptable to serve you as well. That is all.”
“Your trust in your friend is impressive.”
“I trust my own judgment of people. Divine is not the sort to approach just anyone.”
“You would do well in politics later on.”
Jeanne spoke with a touch of sarcasm.
The ability to judge people well reminded her of her father, the king, and she did not particularly like it.
Whether Mathias understood her mockery or not, his reply was ambiguous.
“I thank you for the compliment, but I will not engage in politics. The place where I belong is that sea over there.”
Mathias turned his head toward the south, where La Rochelle lay.
His purple eyes, gazing at the garden’s grass and trees as though they were the ocean, burned with a strange fervor.
“If the opportunity arises someday, I shall visit La Rochelle.”
“By the time Your Highness arrives, the sea may no longer be blue, but I will do my utmost to welcome you.”
At Mathias’s words, Jeanne felt a flicker of doubt.
Yet Mathias made no effort to resolve it.
“I shall take my leave now.”
Mathias bowed, and Divine followed suit. The two men withdrew from Jeanne’s presence.