Her Proposal
Not long after, word arrived at Rose Castle from the occupation force that had sortied out: the rebels had been suppressed.
Their destination had been Linenheit Castle.
The troops committed to crushing the rebellion numbered only about 1.3 times the rebel garrison defending the castle. Considering this was a siege, that figure was nothing short of astonishing. Siege warfare was, as a rule, overwhelmingly more difficult than defense — common wisdom held that an attacker needed at least twice the defenders' strength.
The supreme commander of the assault force was Airen Juliette.
It was a performance worthy of her reputation as a true specialist in siege warfare. Just as she had boldly promised, the rebellion itself was crushed with almost absurd ease.
From the start, seizing a single ordinary-sized territory and castle in the northern continent was never going to be enough to topple Serpina's army. Of course, things might have been different if the continent had been left empty — but the occupation force never advanced, and the rebels' reckless challenge was crushed without ever blooming into anything more.
In any case, my advice had proven right once again. Without the generals and troops we had committed, the damage would have been far greater than what we actually suffered.
Celine, the ringleader of the rebellion and former lord of Linenheit Castle, was found hanging by the neck. Her suicide note — a final curse upon Serpina even in death — was burned along with her corpse on Serpina's orders.
What grudge could have driven her to force through a rebellion that so clearly had no chance of success? What had she hated so much that she was willing to throw her life away and hurl herself at Serpina like a moth to a flame?
The only person who could have answered that question was already gone from this world.
And as for Airen — who had succeeded in showing and proving her worth — she returned from the battle as a triumphant general. I heard that at one point she had even stepped forward herself to save a subordinate officer who had fallen into danger at the vanguard.
I had told her more than once not to push herself, so from her perspective it may not have felt like overreaching… but sending Airen onto the battlefield still left me deeply unsettled.
I could feel it myself: from the moment she saved that officer's life, the generals' opinion of her improved dramatically. Where the prevailing mood had once been to reject her as an outsider, now far more people seemed to regard her as one of their own.
"As ordered, I have put down the rebellion that arose at Linenheit Castle."
Serpina rose from the lord's seat and approached Airen, who knelt before her sovereign to deliver her report. Then, right before Airen's eyes, Serpina dropped to one knee so that their gazes met at the same level.
"You have done well, Airen. I will never forget your service."
"My lord…"
Airen's violet eyes shone for a moment. A female knight raised to protect others — a woman who yearned so desperately to be recognized. Having never once received proper encouragement no matter how many merits she earned, the emotion of this moment must have cut all the deeper.
"…I merely did what was expected of me."
"No. Serving me as my trusted retainer may seem only natural at a glance — but in an age like this, risking your life to fight for your lord is something of real worth. I will never forget that, Airen."
Every time I watched Airen gradually blend in as someone Serpina's army truly needed, a complicated mix of feelings rose in me. Seeing her finally recognized after so much thankless hardship made me happier than if I myself had been the one praised…
And yet, the more it happened, the more Lady Luna's face flickered at the edge of my thoughts.
Someday, I might have to leave this place. Airen would follow me without a second thought — and that was exactly what troubled me. I couldn't shake the fear that I was only making things harder for her.
I had first approached her thinking simply that a powerful general would be useful. Now she was one of the people most precious to me in the world.
Still. For now, it was enough to take satisfaction in the proud look on Airen's face.
A few days later, a mass execution of the generals who had sided with the rebels and been taken prisoner was held at Rose Castle. Once again, Serpina had to take the lives of those who had once served her with her own hands.
How many times had she already done this? And how many more times would she have to do it again?
Only after the executions were finished was a schedule set for our return to Aingart Castle. Originally, only Serpina, myself, and the officers who had come as reinforcements were meant to go back — but whether out of personal consideration or something else, Serpina arranged for Airen to return to Aingart Castle with me as well.
Management of the occupation force in this region would fall to General Irian. With him in charge, I could rest easy.
And now —
"So I am to take that to mean no further rebellions will break out for the time being?"
I was sitting beside Serpina in the carriage bound for Aingart Castle — a deeply private VVIP space reserved for the sovereign herself, under the heaviest of escorts — keeping her company.
We sat side by side in the narrow carriage, not facing each other but sharing the same bench. Perhaps because we were closer than we had ever been, or simply because this was her personal carriage to begin with, the interior was thick with a citron fragrance so intense it seemed ready to cling to my clothes.
"I cannot say that with absolute certainty… but I would ask you to understand that this decision is not one that will bring our side any loss."
Ever since hearing about the Mind's Eye, Serpina had taken to keeping me at her side all day and putting questions to me about nearly every decision. At first she had asked whether a rebellion would occur — but that truly lay beyond what I could know.
Every time I had predicted a rebellion in the past, it had been little more than a guess reverse-engineered from the outcome. The Mind's Eye had never once returned a prediction that said, "A rebellion will occur."
The reason I could answer her as I had was simply this: the decision to return to Aingart Castle had come back as the correct choice for our army.
Not something like [An excellent choice] or [It could not be better] — merely a simple [Yes]. But if the decision would have caused us harm, it would have returned [No]. So it was safe enough to treat this as the right answer.
"I see…"
Serpina nodded with clear interest, then smiled.
"Swen. You must have had quite a hard time of it yourself."
"Me, my lady?"
"Yes. I spent several days testing your Mind's Eye, and the questions you could actually answer were few. Organizing your thoughts within those constraints could not have been easy."
She was right. I had been asked a great many questions over those days, but there had been almost no occasions when I had to wrestle with whether to answer honestly. Most of them were questions that would only return [Unknown].
In other words, I had never even needed to lie to her.
"The Mind's Eye is certainly a remarkable ability, but it has more limitations than I expected. And yet you have managed to offer counsel even under those conditions."
"As I have said many times, it is nothing more than a collection of miscellaneous notes."
"I believe I told you only a few days ago that excessive humility becomes a poison."
She covered her mouth and laughed, clearly amused.
…She was beautiful.
I thought Airen was beautiful. Reika was, too. And Lady Luna, from before — none of them would ever lose a contest of looks. But setting everything else aside and measuring pure beauty alone, I could not imagine any woman who could surpass Serpina.
If I kept staring, I was going to fall under her spell myself. I turned my head lightly away.
"Well. There will be plenty of chances to test it further. We have more than enough time for that. Heh heh heh…"
"…"
Something was wrong. My heart… ached.
This was not the first time I had heard Serpina speak in that vein. When she had said something similar before, it had only niggled at me a little; I had felt nothing more. But now, every time she spoke as though we would simply continue on together, it was like a stone dropping into a corner of my chest — heavy, and painful.
I must not let myself be swayed…
I must not forget the promise.
After all, she was the one who had believed my words completely — without conditions, without tests. Lady Luna had abandoned her own nation and entrusted herself to a foreign land on nothing more than faith in what I said.
How could I ever forget a promise made to someone like that?
Whether Serpina failed to notice the turmoil inside me or was deliberately pretending not to, she brought up "that subject" with shameless ease.
"Once we return to Aingart Castle, it seems there will be a great deal of work waiting."
"Is that not simply the nature of a sovereign's seat?"
"In general, yes — but this time it will be rather difficult. Once again, I will have to deal with those who follow me."
"…Pardon?"
The word "deal with" sparked a vague unease, and I asked again. Serpina gave a light shake of her head.
"Not so much dealing with as persuading. There will certainly be those who cannot accept it."
"What could possibly require persuasion?"
Depending on one's perspective, Serpina's approach could look like that of an ideal leader — but this was a world where monarchy was the most universal form of government. When a sovereign said jump, the default was to jump. Rebellions sometimes broke out when people refused, but the result was almost always summary execution.
Moreover, she was the sovereign of Serpina's army — the heir to the former Aingard Empire. Even if those who refused to acknowledge that kept rising in revolt, every word from her mouth carried far more weight than that of any ordinary feudal lord.
And yet there was something so likely to provoke backlash that she would use the word "persuasion"?
Serpina sank into thought for a moment, then snapped her head around to look at me.
In that instant, her lips seized my gaze again. The memory of kissing her… shook me once more.
Perhaps it was punishment for entertaining such shameless thoughts when she was about to say something important. Because what Serpina proposed next was radical enough that a great many people would surely object.
"Swen. I am considering appointing you as National Strategist."