An Unexpected Reunion (5)
When had it begun?
This hatred I held for you.
Have you heard the news about Airen? At such a young age, she's already sparring with adult soldiers. She'll grow into a shield that protects you one day — keep her close.
Lin, did you hear? They say Airen is the most gifted talent in the entire history of House Juliette — no, among every family that has ever served House Brans. Aren't we lucky to have her in our generation?
Having been born into the bloodline that commands Airen, is it not only natural that you must surpass her?
From the time Lin was still a child — from the moment she had only just begun to understand how the world worked — she had grown up hearing the name of a girl called Airen far more often than her own.
She truly was an extraordinary girl. Lin had eyes; she could hardly fail to notice. Airen displayed a dazzling talent for the sword, and even as a child she possessed the intellect to comprehend and master military treatises to a considerable degree. And her greatest quality as a bodyguard was the most obvious of all: she harbored no ambition whatsoever.
Lady Lin. I am the sword and shield that protects House Brans. I was born for that purpose, and that will never change.
Airen would always look at Lin and say things like that. Even when they were still children, Lin could tell those words were sincere. So, by all rights, a child who saw someone of her own age already bowing and swearing loyalty for no reason other than the Brans blood in her veins should have felt fondness for her.
But young Lin found the girl thoroughly disagreeable. To put it more precisely — she hated her.
Who do you think you are?
Why did Father, why did her brothers, care more about the future of a girl who merely propped up House Brans than about the future their own legitimate daughter would forge?
It may have been nothing more than a childish grievance, but the older she grew, the more deeply that thought took root. The only thing that allowed her to keep breathing was the knowledge that she stood far above Airen. No matter what Airen achieved, she would always remain beneath Lin; no matter what Lin did, she could never fall beneath Airen. It was as natural and self-evident as the division of heaven and earth — and that single fact was the only thing that soothed the inexplicable, unpleasant feeling that rose in Lin whenever she looked at Airen.
And then, at some point — ironically — even Airen's sincere oaths of loyalty to her house began to irritate her. If the girl had been a hypocrite, Lin could have hated her openly. But there was not the slightest hint of pretense, and so hating Airen made Lin feel like some kind of freak.
Even so, it was still manageable. She was not yet the heir; she could simply avoid seeing her face.
Then her mind matured a little further. Just as her father had foreseen, after the emperor's death the Aingard Empire collapsed into a succession war among the heirs, fractured, and plunged the continent into chaos. Having secured Anel Castle — a prize of golden land — in advance, the Brans Army found itself with the most advantageous starting position of any faction in the central continent, where rival warlords swarmed thickest.
Years of a blood-soaked civil war among the imperial princes had already left the entire continent in ruins. And in the end, the throne fell not to Algot, the strongest contender, nor to Sidmid, the leading rival who had opposed him, but to Serpina — a youngest sister of no prior consequence who had suddenly emerged from nowhere. Lin had heard that Serpina purged her own blood brothers with extraordinary cruelty and cunning, and watching the imperial subjects writhe in the aftermath, she thought: as the inheritors of Brans blood, this was a problem they had to solve.
It was not born of any righteous cause for the people, nor of any duty to bring peace to the continent. It was pure pride — the conviction that she must become a person worthy of the Brans name.
Fortunately or not, her brothers — Chel, who cared more for battle than politics, and Kalintz, who cared more for self-preservation — left the crown their father had borne to roll effortlessly to her feet. From that moment, Lin believed, her time had finally come: the moment she could make her own name shine. Just as Airen had proven herself, she too could prove she was an outstanding leader — by eliminating the tyrant Serpina, who had earned the hatred of all.
When her dying father summoned her, she went to him with a heart that, shamefully, fluttered just a little with anticipation.
But—
Lin. Airen will be at your side. She has the makings of a greater bodyguard than any other. She will surely protect you once you become sovereign. Just as her father protected your father… if that child remains by your side… the hegemony of the continent will belong to… our Brans Army…
Even as he bequeathed her the throne, even at the threshold of death, her father spoke that woman's name. Not You will become a great sovereign — but that Airen would become greater than any bodyguard. Even with his dying breath, he had spoken her name.
That was the moment Lin's reason snapped — the thin veneer of a relationship that had looked passable on the surface, even if she had always despised the girl underneath.
After Lin ascended the throne of the Brans Army, the succession ceremony passed without the turmoil that had torn the empire apart. With no need to settle ranks, she chose an aggressive policy of expansion. Chel, who would later be called the greatest swordsman of Brans, and Airen, who would earn the title of siege warfare specialist — with those two at the head of its occupation forces, the Brans Army achieved a speed of conquest no other army had ever managed. In a remarkably short time, the Brans Army became the hegemon of the central continent.
And right at that point — at that very point — Lin let go of Airen's hand.
The official reason was to grant rest to a woman exhausted from leading the occupation forces. But compared to how she stationed Chel on the southern front with full authority and continued to favor him, the difference in treatment could not have been more glaring. Airen's new post was command of Anel Castle's Second Barracks — a demotion by any measure. Yet no one within the Brans Army dared defy Lin Brans, the sovereign who had employed them both to seize hegemony over the central continent in such dazzlingly short order.
What Lin turned her attention to instead was gathering talent hidden across the continent. Airen was a remarkable woman, yes — but she was not some irreplaceable genius without equal. Outside of siege warfare, Chel outclassed her in combat; and for all her skill in military strategy, she was no match for the renowned tacticians of the age. Lin was certain she could find someone to replace her.
So she kept collecting talent. In the course of expansion, whenever she encountered a minor state and spotted even a hint of useful ability, she would bring that person into her inner circle and put them through a routine of tests — measuring their competence, and whether they were as free of ambition as Airen, content to remain obediently beneath her. Not a single person passed. Those she thought might finally succeed chose death over surrender. Still she could not give up. Someday, she had to obtain a talent capable of replacing Airen.
And then, at last — standing before her eyes appeared a young man with white hair. Swen.
"What I stand to lose is my life, yes. But in exchange for my life, Lady Lin… you will lose the world."
That first meeting had sent a thrill through her. Looking back, every one of those bold proposals no one else could have imagined had been entirely correct. After several tests, she became certain: this man truly would remain at her side.
I've found him!
At last — someone who will support me no matter what, someone far greater than Airen!
And he had not passed her tests on ability alone. Even when she gifted him a courtesan, he showed not the slightest displeasure, wanting only to rise in the world — and from that, she could read no ambition at all.
Swen. Someone like you.
All this time, I've been waiting for someone like you, Swen…!
All that remained was to clear the eyesore from her sight. Holding that intention close, she waited — and then, with almost supernatural timing, the perfect opportunity rolled right to her feet. And then…………
"…My lord. My lord!"
"Mm… nngh."
"My lord, are you with us?!"
"Parfalle…?"
When she opened her eyes, Parfalle was staring down at her with a look of deep concern. A recollection of the past… a dream…?
Sensation returned to her body little by little, and she realized she was lying somewhere. As her vision cleared, the situation began to take shape — what she had been doing, and… whom she had seen at the end.
"Ah…"
The moment she remembered who it was, her head pounded. Someone was stabbing her heart with a knife, carving it to pieces.
"No… Swen… why, why on earth… how could you…"
"My lord, please — please come to your senses. First, you must sign the documents. We need to return, reorganize our ranks, and watch for an opportunity."
"Swen… Swen… you… weren't you supposed to be the one who would support me…?"
And yet you lied to me. You deceived me…
…Ah.
In that instant, Lin grasped a terrible truth. The real reason Swen had followed her without complaint no matter how roughly she treated him. It had never been the boundless loyalty Airen had shown. It was simply—
—that he had never once regarded her as his true sovereign.
So that was it.
That was all it was.
From the very moment you came to me from Lunarien, not for a single instant did you ever…
Lin wanted to wail, but she could sense she no longer even had the strength to shed tears.
So I've lost everything.
Airen, and Swen.
The talent I envied, and the talent I discovered for myself.
All of them, by my own hand—
"…My lord…?"
—And so, Lin Brans's time came to a stop.
After Lin lost consciousness, Parfalle and several attendants supported her. Serpina had apparently provided a place for her to rest until she recovered.
And after some time had passed—
"…"
The eyes of the woman walking forward to sign the documents were dead. The once-vibrant Lin Brans — the oppressive, charismatic figure who had once delighted in the claim that she had destroyed our army solely to claim me for herself — was nowhere to be found. What stood before us was nothing more than a puppet, dangling as if from strings, listlessly signing the alliance papers.
Even now, I could not deduce with perfect, error-free precision why an alliance with the Brans Army would benefit our forces. But looking at the thoroughly broken Lin, I found myself able to accept the result itself — that it would work in our favor.
The Brans Army is finished.
That much, I could tell without needing a mind of Intelligence 100.