182. The Witch, and the Hero (3)
182. The Witch, and the Hero (3)
Three days had passed since Duke Driaz's delegation arrived at Elena's camp.
In the conference tent set up between the Driaz and Cheoks fortresses, a tension like thin ice lingered in the air.
It was the moment the peace agreement conference between the two nations was about to begin.
"This is my first time meeting you, Your Highness, the young Duke of Driaz."
The young duke, facing Elena directly for the first time, was momentarily at a loss for words.
The woman standing before him was far too different from the rumors that had filled his ears.
Instead of the invincible general who had stormed across the battlefield, a noble lady as elegant as a painting was looking at him.
'No, a muscle-bound demon with three horns? Who in the world spread such ridiculous rumors...?'
Of course, the duke knew that it was likely exaggerated descriptions mixed in by defeated soldiers trying to protect their pride.
But since Elena on the battlefield was described as a ferocious figure over two meters tall, he had expected at least a massively muscled giant.
"Your Highness?"
"Hrrm... I, I was rude."
But the woman he faced in person was entirely different.
She was the very image of a noble daughter who enjoyed tea ceremonies in a high-class mansion and smiled elegantly, rather than a knight.
Though clad in armor and certainly a distinct woman with a faint, melancholy air, she was far removed from the rumors of a demon on the battlefield.
"... A pleasure. Lady Elena Ironfield."
"Please address me as Baron, or General, not Lady."
Elena's firm demand, in response to the unconscious slight, made the Duke of Driaz's brow twitch; his illusion shattered.
Even if defeated in war, he was still a duke.
He did not want to acknowledge the fact that he had lost to a general who merely held the title of Baron. His pride howled like a wounded beast.
In the end, to save face, he chose to elevate his counterpart, but venom still laced his manner.
"I apologize. General Elena of Ironfield."
"I accept your apology."
The sight of Elena accepting it with dignified confidence was an eyesore, but there was nothing he could do.
In this place, the duke was the loser. Elena was the victor.
That immutable reality pressed down on the duke's chest.
"... Let us begin."
The bitterness of defeat was thick in the duke's voice as he, the highest-ranking person present, announced the start of the conference.
His fingertips repeatedly clenched and released the armrest of his chair.
"There are those I am meeting for the first time, and those I have met before. I am from Zenota..."
"I am from the royal capital of Hysen..."
Gathered inside the conference room were the delegation from the Zenota United Kingdom, the nobles of the Driaz Duchy, the delegation from House Ironfield, and diplomats from the Kingdom of Haisen.
The working-level officials from each faction, watchful of one another in the tense atmosphere, cautiously began their diplomatic remarks.
"It is an honor to meet the one famously called the 'Steel Rose.' You are as beautiful as the rumors say."
"You flatter me."
Adelaide was also present among the Ironfield negotiating team.
As a border countess with exceptional diplomatic talent, there was no reason to exclude her from 'negotiations that expand territory.'
Conversely, the Zenota side also had a count famous as a diplomat in attendance.
They had sent someone capable of reining in the young noble who was both a lesser king and a duke.
But the main players of this occasion were, ultimately, Duke Driaz and Elena.
Tok. Tok.
While the working-level officials coordinated their opinions, the duke continued to stare at Elena.
She was tapping the wood of her armrest rhythmically, and that sound gnawed at the duke's nerves.
It was a sound that reminded him of his defeat, like the warhorses' hooves that had echoed across the battlefield.
If he could have his way, he felt a violent urge to force her to her knees and slap her cheek right then and there.
'No.'
But then, at some point, he felt that impulse unexpectedly subside.
When he realized it, he understood: the sight of Elena sitting in silence, her hair flowing down, was as beautiful as a painting.
The hair mixing brown and black, the half-lidded blue-grey eyes, the long eyelashes—they still made her look more like a noble daughter than a knight.
Her beauty, crafted by Libertas's careful shaping, was extravagantly enchanting even by the standards of the duke, who possessed a discerning eye.
Anger and hatred swiftly transformed into another emotion.
"General. I have a proposal."
Beauty could sometimes be the most lethal weapon. Especially in such a political setting.
Stabbed by that weapon, the Duke of Driaz's eyes glittered strangely.
"What is it?"
"You and I should marry."
The air in the conference room froze instantly at the proposal, utterly beyond common sense for a loser to make to a victor.
All eyes in the room fixed upon Duke Driaz, who had made the outlandish proposal, but having already lost his reason, he did not notice.
To him, this proposal seemed exceedingly rational.
"You need power, and I need military might. Since we each possess what the other inevitably needs, there is no room for us to betray each other. Could this not be the most ideal condition for peace..."
Even before his words finished, objections burst forth.
"Your Highness!"
"Your Highness the Lesser King!"
For there were many in this place who wished to stop the duke from committing further indecency.
"Why are you all acting like this? Is it not a sufficiently good proposal? My bloodline is..."
"General Elena is originally...!"
The count of Zenota hastily whispered into the duke's ear.
Guessing what story was being conveyed from the other side, Elena quietly closed her eyes.
A bitter smile flickered across her lips.
'It's the natural course of events.'
It was not difficult to guess that her past—the 'background story' of originally being a man turned into a woman by a curse—was now being leaked.
"Is that truly the case...?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
'I proposed to a man?'
The face of the Lesser King of Driaz, who glanced back and forth between the count and Elena's face as if in disbelief, gradually reddened.
At first, it was a flush of embarrassment, and then, a hue of anger.
"This accursed... ha! So a witch is indeed a witch!!"
The duke's trembling voice echoed through the conference hall.
"Your Highness!"
"Enough! To think that a woman cursed by a monster is a knight and a representative...!"
His heart, which had been captivated by Elena's beauty just moments ago, was now filled with deep humiliation and a sense of betrayal.
"Your Highness."
Adelaide's cold voice became a sharp blade, blocking the duke's anger.
But the duke, having lost his reason, did not stop there.
"Lady Adelaide...! Yes. If only you had been the representative, then I would not have been fooled by that face...!"
"You must take responsibility for the words you have just spoken."
Adelaide interrupted the duke once more.
Her blue eyes held diplomatic fury, but Elena, seeing her older sister's face, could read the sincerity contained within.
'She's genuinely angry.'
"Elena is a proud bloodline of Ironfield, and also the representative of our house. You, Your Highness, have just insulted House Ironfield."
"Th-this...!"
The Lesser King of Driaz's anger was instantly crushed before Adelaide's sharp, sound argument.
But unwilling to lose face, he made the worst possible choice.
"I shall entrust this proceeding to someone else. The humiliation is such that I cannot bear it any longer...!"
The duke's retreating figure, clutching only his pride as he left the conference hall, looked shabby.
The duke said a few words to the Zenota count and stormed out. Elena simply remained seated with her eyes closed, leaning back in her chair.
Having judged it wasn't even worth dealing with, she didn't even feel anger.
But her appearance made her look, to everyone present, like a person deeply wounded.
Sseuk—
A warm presence was felt upon the back of the hand that had been tapping the armrest.
Elena opened her eyes at that moment and found her older sister, who had approached her side without her noticing.
"Sister?"
"Are you alright?"
She was still expressionless, but her eyes, looking at her, were quietly rippling.
In that gaze were hidden sadness, anger, and a deep affection and pride for her younger sibling.
"I am fine. Do not concern yourself."
Elena, wearing a faint smile, answered quietly. But without a word, Adelaide sat still for a while, holding her hand.
It was clumsy comfort. But Elena, grasping its meaning, did not shake off her hand.
Even if she herself did not need comfort, it was better to accept this moment now.
They were not the only ones here, after all.
"Your Excellency, Count."
"Yes, General Elena."
She spoke to the Zenota diplomat who had been gauging her reaction.
Now that the duke had rudely left his seat, the count was naturally forced to become the Zenota representative.
He was now in the position of having to handle the diplomatic breach of etiquette committed by his superior.
Now Zenota was in a situation where they had no choice but to actively accept the proposals of Hysen—or, more accurately, of Elena.
Though unintended, a convenient path had opened for Elena.
"I will return the Cheoks Border Margraviate."
"Yes. ... Pardon? Is that true?"
The count's eyes widened in surprise.
It was an unusual reaction for a diplomat, but Elena's proposal, on the surface, appeared to be an exceptional favor. However, hidden within her offer was another intent.
"However, what I return first is only the capital city of Cheoks. In exchange for that, you must hand over the three northern fortresses, including Gribeler, to us. We can discuss the return of the rest of the margraviate after that."
"Hrmm..."
The count's face, which had been filled with surprise, distorted instantly.
The Cheoks capital city bordered a river but was located to the north, placing it in a position where Elena could re-occupy it at any time.
It was a strategic point, but one that was more disadvantageous against attacks from the south.
Conversely, the three fortresses of Gribeler would require several days to occupy, and if Elena attempted to attack them, she risked losing her occupied territories to the southern main army in the meantime.
It was a cunning ploy to gain practical advantages while returning honor.
'Is there truly no way but to accept...?'
The count pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a deep sigh.
Originally, that land belonged to Zenota, and this proposal was a condition they could never normally accept, because in effect it was nearly the same as handing over two counties.
"... What will you do?"
"Hoo."
The count's sigh was laden with resignation as he answered his fellow noble's question.
In a situation where the lesser king had ruined the negotiations, there was no other choice. In the end, he nodded with a heavy heart.
"Understood. We shall accept."
"Since the fortresses must be emptied or prepared, let us first vacate the capital for you. I trust you will not try to deceive us."
"Hrrm... I thank you for your trust."
The reality behind those words was practically a threat.
A subtle warning that Elena herself could march into the Cheoks capital, and even to Driaz Fortress beyond, at any time.
Having already heard countless tales of her exploits on the battlefield, the count could only bow his head.
"Good."
Only then did Elena smile towards Adelaide.
In Adelaide's blue eyes, as she looked at her younger sister, was a trace of wonder—an emotional stir so small that others would not notice it.
Recognizing it as the pride of an older sibling seeing her splendidly grown younger sister, Elena turned her hand over and interlaced her fingers with hers.
"Did I not tell you not to worry?"
"... Indeed."
Adelaide met eyes with Elena, who looked at her with dignified confidence.
The younger sister who, in childhood, was so absorbed in proving herself that she did not know how to look around her, was no longer there.
'She has grown up splendidly.'
That sentiment filled Adelaide's chest with both loneliness and pride.
The fact that the younger sister she had tried to push out of politics had grown on her own and was fulfilling her role in such a setting—and the fact that Adelaide had not been able to give her any help in becoming that way—all stirred complicated emotions.
Gazing at her younger sister, who had grown so greatly, Adelaide smiled faintly.
'I... will surely save my sister.'
Completely unaware of what thoughts her turned-away younger sister was entertaining.
'And I will seize the throne of the border count.'
Elena's eyes gleamed deeply, holding a dangerous light.
