An Unexpected Reunion (3)
Lin stared again and again at the red-haired knight with the violet eyes.
That face. A face she could never forget.
The face of the woman who had once sworn she would give everything for her sake…
"……"
…was looking at Lin now with a coldness that cut to the bone.
Irene ignored, with casual indifference, the gaze of the woman trembling before her—Lin, white-eyed with terror, her face drained of all color—and issued an order to the soldier at her side.
"Inform my lord that the envoy has arrived."
"Yes, ma'am."
Once the soldiers who had finished searching the diplomatic party had withdrawn, Irene swept her eyes over the stunned delegation still staring at her, then spoke in a voice of absolute dryness.
"Follow me this way."
Irene's voice was brittle. Hollow. The kind of voice that held not a single drop of feeling.
Emotion came in many forms—joy, sorrow, rage. When any of those colors entered a person's voice, it was proof that the one they addressed still had the power to move them.
But the voice she turned on Lin now carried nothing at all.
"Wait—!"
Lin tried to speak, but Irene cut her off before she could finish, turning a blank expression on the rest of the party.
"The rest of you will wait here."
"You mean we are not permitted to enter?"
At Parfalle's question, Irene simply nodded.
"When seeking an audience with the sovereign of another nation, is it not only natural that a single envoy should enter?"
The coldness in her voice was absolute.
Parfalle stood speechless, thrown completely off balance by a side of Irene she had never once seen—this woman who had once called her "Lady Strategist" with such earnest loyalty that it almost inspired pity.
Irene's words were correct. It was standard practice for an envoy on a diplomatic mission to enter the audience chamber alone.
But they had come as sovereign to sovereign, and with an alliance on the table, Parfalle had expected at least a measure of courtesy…
She knows all too well that we are the ones who need this more.
Parfalle glanced at the faces of the officers who had accompanied them. The effort of swallowing their anger was written plain across every expression.
I can endure it. This kind of humiliation means nothing to me—but my lord, and the rest of the officers…!
She opened her mouth, determined to say at least one word in protest.
"However—"
"……Parfalle."
To her surprise, it was Lin who stopped her—Lin, her face deathly pale, barely managing to stretch out a hand.
"I'll… I'll handle it myself. So just… wait here. I—I'm the sovereign, after all…"
"My lord…"
It was the same thing Lin had been saying ever since her reinstatement. That she had to do this herself. That the kingdom had been cut in half because of her own misjudgment, and so she would claw her way through the consequences no matter what it took—that stubborn resolve was the last scrap of pride she still possessed as a ruler.
Parfalle knew that better than anyone. She could only bow her head.
"……Go well, my lord."
"Mm…"
Lin answered, then carefully turned toward Irene—toward the woman who had once staked everything on her—and forced her trembling lips to move.
"……Take me there. I-Irene…"
Irene looked at the woman who had just spoken her name, and answered in a tone still utterly devoid of feeling.
"Lady Lin. I am aware that you are the sovereign of a nation. Even so, addressing a general of another country with such familiarity is a breach of propriety. I would ask that you keep that in mind."
"R-right…"
Lin could only nod, unable to form a proper reply. Irene did not press the point.
"Hey. Um… Irene, listen…"
"Follow me."
Irene walked on without so much as listening, taking the lead. Lin half-reached a hand toward her back—then let it fall, and followed in silence.
Once, that kind of gesture from Lin would have troubled her. Now, Irene understood with perfect clarity.
Before facing her, her feelings had been a little complicated. But the moment she actually stood before the woman, the truth became sharp and unmistakable.
This woman means nothing to me anymore.
Every last feeling for her is gone.
The resentment, the hatred, the pity that might so easily have stirred at the sight of a fallen former lord, even the tangled love-and-hate that once bound all of it together—none of it reached Irene now.
It made no difference whether Lin stood in that place or a complete stranger. The result would have been the same.
Because at her side now was that man—Swen.
A man who had told her, with complete sincerity, that he wanted only for her to survive. A man who held her up no matter the circumstances. A man she found almost unbearably dear.
She had been born a sword meant to protect someone. And so long as the one she was meant to protect was certain, her spirit could remain stronger than anyone's.
"……"
Lin, by contrast—her heart a muddled smear of regret, self-reproach, and resentment so thoroughly mixed she could no longer tell one feeling from another—felt her breath catch every time she looked at Irene's back.
Surely.
Surely this was the woman who had once knelt at her feet and sworn to be the cornerstone she could trample whenever she wished.
The woman who had shown her absolute loyalty no matter what order she gave.
Irene… why…?
Why… not even the Aeshers Army. Why are you under the Serpina Army—under that demon of a woman…?
"Lady Lin. You alone can stop the tyranny of Serpina von Aingart. This Irene will follow you until these bones turn to dust. Use me whenever you wish. If my lord commands me to cut someone down, I will cut them down—no matter who they are."
That's what you said… isn't it? So then why…?
Even though she herself was the one who had driven Irene away. Even though she herself was the one who had ignored Swen's counsel and cast Irene into the jaws of death—foolishly, stupidly, she found herself resenting Irene as the old scenes rose up in her mind.
She had reflected. She had repented. And still, looking at Irene's face, her heart twisted into knots all over again.
You… you weren't supposed to be like this… So why did you… abandon me… why…?
Again and again as they walked, Lin wanted to call out a question to the figure ahead of her. But she knew now. She knew it was a question that could never reach her—an absurd, impossible thing to ask.
No…
Lin bowed her head low. She barely held back the tears welling in her eyes.
I… I was the one who shouldn't have done that…
The entire way she followed Irene, she could not shake the feeling that she herself had become the criminal.
The root cause of the Brans Army's fall from its place as the power that once commanded the Central Continent… was that she had tried to kill the woman walking ahead of her—Irene—for no reason at all.
She wanted to apologize. But neither the time nor the place, nor anything else in the world, would help her say the words.
All Lin could do was bite down on her lip and struggle to match Irene's pace.
It was regret that had come far, far too late.
As she followed Irene into the royal castle, a more fundamental unease pressed down on Lin's heart. She emptied her mind again and again, trying to escape it.
How long did she walk like that—head bowed like a condemned prisoner, trailing after the woman who had once been her sword?
When she came back to herself, Irene's voice was already speaking. This time, the tone was more familiar.
"My lord. I have brought Lady Lin Brans. We have just arrived."
Irene dropped to one knee before the golden-haired absolute monarch who stood upon the crest emblazoned on Irene's own armor. Her new master—the hegemon of the Northern Continent, the tyrant—Serpina von Aingart looked down at her and smiled with languid allure.
"Well done, Irene. You've worked hard."
"Not at all. I merely did what is only proper for my lord."
Serpina rose from her seat and walked toward Lin.
"Lady Lin. I am Serpina von Aingart. It is a pleasure to meet you like this."
Lin buried what remained of her attachment to Irene in a corner of her heart, clung to her fraying composure, and answered.
"……Lin Brans."
"I understand you wish to form an alliance with our army?"
"That is correct."
"I see. I never imagined we would end up allying with the Brans Army after crossing blades so recently… Still, in times of chaos, there is no such thing as an eternal friend or foe. I understand your decision, Lady Lin. A thoroughly rational choice."
Lin said nothing, managing only an awkward smile.
Serpina paid it no particular mind. She simply, silently, advanced to the next stage of the plan that would grind Lin underfoot.
"That we may stand alongside the Brans Army is, of course, most welcome. However—there is a reason we have gone to the special trouble of inviting you to Aingart Castle, Lady Lin."
Serpina stepped closer as she spoke. The perfume Lin wore was completely swallowed by Serpina's powerful scent of citron.
"Should we not make it known to as many people as possible that we have joined hands in pursuit of peace across the continent? Fufu… You there. Prepare something light for us to enjoy before the banquet."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
……You're transparent, Serpina.
Lin had known from the moment she was summoned here. Serpina meant to use her own infamous reputation to isolate the Brans Army's diplomatic network.
But with territory slipping away by the day, and the very existence of her nation hanging in the balance, Lin had no real choice.
Fortunately—or perhaps not—Serpina's transparent maneuvering had at least helped her recover some of the composure she'd lost upon first seeing Irene.
Lin answered with the most unhurried smile she could muster.
"……I hope the amicable relations between our two armies will endure forever."
"As do I. This way, if you please."
Lin followed in silence, deliberately ignoring the red-haired knight who stuck close to Serpina's side as if guarding her.
Exchanging thoroughly meaningless conversation in the banquet hall gradually settled her nerves.
Just form the alliance and leave. I'm only doing what I have to do.
She still wanted to speak with Irene—but that seemed impossible now. Better to get out of her sight as quickly as possible. When she casually asked Serpina about the schedule ahead, the woman answered with a smile.
"Well, something like an alliance is finished the moment the documents are signed. You seem rather impatient. Fufu…"
Lin offered no real reply, only a light laugh. She told herself that no matter what happened, she would not let this woman throw her off balance again.
Serpina watched her with a smiling glance, then looked sidelong at Irene.
"Bring the documents."
"Yes, my lord."
Irene left. Only after she was gone did Lin feel the relentless pounding of her heart begin, at last, to quiet.
Stay calm… Form the alliance quickly and go home. If we can just seal off the northern front… we can hold the Hesna Army at bay. That's where it starts. If we achieve results this time, we can silence the discontent of the generals, of my brothers, and of the soldiers left abandoned on the border… Parfalle said so. So it will work. It has to work.
She still didn't know why Irene belonged to the Serpina Army—but that no longer mattered. Right now she just wanted… somehow… to offer an apology, forget her, and move forward.
Yes.
You're doing fine, Lin.
If she collapsed like this, the father who had chosen her would become a laughingstock. Everything was for the Brans Army.
She tilted the cup Serpina had given her and forced her heart into order.
Every last scrap of this humiliation—I'll repay it after I've conquered the continent. Serpina.
She was smiling, swallowing down her hostility—when something felt wrong.
……?
Serpina's expression was… strange. No—she was smiling, yes, but the look of someone waiting for something was written all over her face.
Waiting for what?
What else was still coming?
And in that moment—
"My lord."
A voice carried from beyond the doorway.
A man's voice.
A voice she knew well.
And the instant she recognized it as a voice she knew well—
that "fundamental unease" which had stalked her ever since she followed Irene here bared its savage jaws and fixed its eyes on Lin as if to devour her whole.
……It can't be…!!!
The fact she had not allowed herself to think of on the way here—the fact she had not wanted to think of.
——If Irene was here, then where was Swen, who had been with her then?
And the answer revealed itself to Lin in the cruelest way imaginable.
"I have brought the documents, my lord."
When she slowly turned her head, a white-haired man stood there.
The man who had always been right. The man who had told her to use him as she pleased—
—was being called my Swen by Serpina.