Unexpected Reunion (2)
"Too slow! Faster!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Never place your trust in your allies alone. On the battlefield, it is best to assume that no one will protect you. If you wish to rely on someone, you must first become someone others can rely upon. Understood?"
"Understood!"
In the barracks of Aingart Castle, Irene—now deputy commander of the occupation force—was drilling the soldiers under her command.
The standards she demanded were exacting, yet not a single man fell out of line. Every soldier present was an elite who had already distinguished himself within Serpina's army; having crushed the northern rebellions and pushed into the central continent, they possessed enough combat experience to absorb even her rigorous regimen without complaint.
And from a distance, two figures watched it all unfold.
One was the golden-haired sovereign herself, Serpina, her distinctive hairpin glinting in the light. Beside her stood her most trusted retainer and state strategist, Jena.
"Well? What do you make of it?"
"It is remarkable, my lord. We ran a mock battle against an untrained occupation unit for comparison. The soldiers' combat effectiveness appears to have roughly doubled."
"Is that so? I assumed a general who made her name on the front lines would be unaccustomed to training troops in the rear… yet it seems that is not the case at all."
What they did not know was that, before joining Serpina's army, the greater part of Irene's career had been spent doing precisely this: drilling soldiers. In the early days of the Brans Army, while she and Chel Brans carved through the central continent and endlessly expanded their territory, the celebrated female general had spent more time than anyone imagined in the barracks assigned to lesser officers. No one would have guessed it—especially since the posting had been her own request.
Since the occupation force is idle for the moment, I have nothing particular to do. If I can be of help with the training, I would like that.
A woman even more formidable than her reputation suggests.
"Very well. You have much to attend to—feel free to return first."
"My lord…"
"What is it?"
Jena, who had been about to speak, lowered her head instead.
"…It is nothing. I shall take my leave."
Serpina did not press her. When Jena wished to speak, she would speak. After dismissing her strategist, Serpina waited quietly until Irene's training concluded.
When the drills finally ended—
"My lord…?"
Irene, wiping sweat from her brow as she headed off to change, met Serpina's gaze.
"You have worked hard, Irene."
"Not at all. I am merely doing what is expected of me. But… what brings you here?"
"I have business with you."
"With me…? Has there been a rebellion?"
"Nothing of the sort. If anything… one might say it concerns you more than it does Us."
Irene tilted her head, unable to guess the reason. Serpina watched the gesture and smiled.
"For all your appearance, you have a surprisingly feminine side."
"Pardon…?"
"Never mind. You need not respond to every idle remark We make."
Irene stared at her, momentarily blank, and two thoughts crossed her mind at once.
First: her smile was beautiful.
Second: Lady Serpina enjoyed joking more than expected.
Then, as abruptly as she had appeared at the barracks, Serpina came to the point.
"We intend to form an alliance with the Brans Army."
"…!!"
The Brans Army.
The nation Irene had once served with everything she possessed. She had endured every hardship and every injustice solely in the hope that Lin would acknowledge her—yet to the very end, Lin had refused to look her way. Had Swen not been there, Irene might not even be alive now.
"You seem lost in reminiscence, Irene."
"…!!"
Feeling as though her innermost thoughts had been laid bare, Irene hastily bowed her head in apology.
"Forgive me. That was—"
"There is nothing to forgive. Speak freely."
Irene kept her head lowered and answered in a deliberately solemn tone.
"…I am a soldier of Serpina's army now. If that is my lord's will, I will follow it."
"Well, We did not come all this way merely to announce an alliance."
"Then…?"
Serpina smirked and stepped closer. A bright, clean scent of citron brushed Irene's nose.
"She will come here."
"…?"
"She—the woman who cast you aside. Lin Brans."
"!!!"
Lin Brans—that woman—was coming here?
"May I… ask the reason?"
"It was the condition We set for the alliance. She will cast aside every shred of pride, come to this place, and take Our hand—the hand of Serpina von Aingart, whom the entire continent rightly despises."
The moment she heard those words, Irene understood Serpina's intent with ease.
So my lord means to use her own reputation as a tyrant to isolate Lin from the rest of the continent.
Even Irene herself had held a poor opinion of Serpina before meeting her. Any third party who witnessed the scene would surely be forced to reconsider their view of Lin.
"Irene."
"Yes?"
"You once told Us you were abandoned by Lin Brans."
"…I did."
"Would you mind telling Us what happened?"
Irene hesitated only a moment before nodding. She gave a concise account of everything—how she had been demoted despite her military achievements, how she had been steadily pushed aside, how she had met Swen and defected with him to the Aces Army…
Serpina listened in silence.
When the story ended, it was Serpina who spoke first.
"What perfect timing, Irene. Why not show your face to Lin this time?"
"Me…?"
"Yes."
Serpina smiled with quiet satisfaction.
"She needs to understand exactly what she has done. Do you not agree? Heh heh heh…"
"…"
Irene thought of her former lord—the woman who had repaid absolute loyalty by driving her into a deathtrap. The memory still left a faint bitterness, yet it was a matter of the past that no longer truly concerned her. Even so, if her present lord wished her company, she wanted to oblige.
"You need only stand at Our side. That alone will set her thinking… whether she can rise above it is her own affair. And—"
Serpina's voice turned utterly serious.
"She discarded a general who entered Our service in so cruel a fashion. We find Ourselves quite unable to overlook that."
"My lord…"
There was genuine feeling in Serpina's words. Irene could not deny it. Of every lord she had ever served, this woman cared for her the most.
"Understood. I will do as my lord wills."
"Good. Ah—and one more question."
Serpina rested a hand lightly on Irene's shoulder and spoke the name as if it were nothing.
"What is Swen to you?"
"…Pardon?"
The moment Swen's name left Serpina's lips, Irene's eyes began to tremble violently. Watching her, Serpina thought, Truly an easy woman to read, and pressed on.
"Exactly as We asked. What sort of person is Swen to you?"
"Swen is… that is… he is my comrade…"
"A comrade, you say?"
"Yes."
"…"
Serpina offered no further reply. She simply placed her hand on Irene's shoulder once more and said,
"Irene. You and I shall make fine comrades."
With that, she turned and gradually receded from Irene's sight. Irene stared blankly at her departing back, then replayed the conversation in her mind.
…I never imagined we would meet again.
She closed her eyes and pictured her former lord. Their parting had been a frantic flight; in the end, she had never even managed a proper farewell.
If I think of it as a final greeting, there is no harm in it.
Any lingering attachment to Lin had long since vanished. Another person already filled her heart. This, then, would truly be the last time.
With that thought, she started toward her quarters to wash the sweat from her body. Serpina's parting remark about becoming "fine comrades" still nagged at her faintly—yet she chose not to dwell on it.
For Lin, the journey to Aingart Castle was far from pleasant.
Part of it was simply that she had rarely traveled such distances since becoming a sovereign. Far worse, however, was the wave of inexpressible regret that rose from deep within her chest every time she passed through lands that had once belonged to the Brans Army and no longer did.
The feeling struck hardest when they rode past Kelstein Castle—the gateway to the north. To look up at those soaring towers she had once believed would never fall, and to see not the sky-blue banners of Brans but the yellow standards of Serpina's army flying from their heights, was nothing short of torture.
Every one of these disasters had been born of her own stubbornness. If only she had not decided to kill Irene back then…
It hurts…
At night, when she should have been sleeping, she would toss and groan until Parfalle drew near to soothe her.
"My lord. Steel your heart. You must not show weakness. We may be the ones seeking alliance now, but if we wait for the right moment, an opportunity will surely come."
"I know…"
And so, step by grinding step, they pressed northward.
How had it come to this? They had raced all the way here to plant their own banners on this soil. The chance had been right in front of them. If only she had listened to Swen then… they could have advanced into the north. Instead she had squandered the opportunity with her own foolish decision, and the Brans Army—once the hegemon of the central continent and Serpina's sole rival—had been reduced to watching its territories seized by the Hesna Army.
She now admitted that every failure was her own fault, yet revisiting those failures with her own eyes was an act that left her spirit utterly drained. If Serpina had summoned her here with even this torment in mind…
That damned woman…!
Lin bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood, thinking the same thought over and over. For the sake of her army's survival she would endure every humiliation—but one day, when fortune returned to the Brans Army…
Serpina von Aingart… I will take your head with these own hands…!
After several more days of travel—
"My lord. We have arrived."
At last they reached Aingart Castle. The moment they did, a soldier of Serpina's army approached.
"You are Lin Brans of the Brans Army?"
A foreign sovereign had come to forge an alliance; ordinary courtesy demanded a proper salute. The soldier offered none. The difference in power was plain, and those who knew which side was the supplicant could afford such leisure.
Lin swallowed the fury boiling inside her, forced a smile onto her face, and answered in as composed a tone as she could manage.
"…Yes. That's right. Where is Lady Serpina?"
"Wait. You must undergo a body search before you may enter."
"What? How dare you—!"
One of the Brans officers behind her could no longer contain himself and started to protest—only for Parfalle to thrust out a hand and stop him cold.
"Restrain yourself. Do you wish to render our lord's efforts meaningless?"
"…Kh…"
Lin nodded and submitted silently to the search. A few minutes later—
"Is the inspection finished?"
A woman's voice carried from farther off.
"Yes, ma'am!"
…Huh?
Having just finished the body search, Lin froze at the sound of a voice that was somehow terribly familiar.
That voice… I know that voice.
Beyond the ranks of soldiers, a single woman strode forward. Red hair, a silver circlet, armor bearing the crest of the Aingart house. Loyalty to the one she served was carved into those violet eyes.
!!!!!!
And the instant Lin saw her face, she understood why the voice had been so familiar.
"I… it can't be."
"This is impossible…!"
It was not only Lin. Parfalle and every officer of the Brans Army stood rooted to the spot as the red-haired general approached.
"Ire…ne…!!!"
The crimson-haired knight, Irene—the woman who had once sworn lifelong devotion to her—now stood before them in armor stamped with the Aingart crest, looking straight at Lin.