Business Meetings Are Best Held on Holidays, Desuwa!
'Lady Katerina! Thank you... thank you so much!'
To be honest, it would be a lie to say I wasn't moved. I never expected to be overwhelmed by such pure emotion in a conversation that had been laced with political calculation.
She took my hand in hers, and the warmth and strength I felt from that grip steadied me.
Everything had gone far better than I had dared to hope. At first, all I wanted was for the Grand Duke's daughter to show a little interest in the Sokolov cause — but she had gone far beyond that, declaring that she would protect us personally.
Truly, I was caught in a tangle of feelings. Joy, astonishment, and even a faint pang of guilt. I found myself ashamed of the schemer I had been, trying to trick the Grand Duke's daughter into swallowing my bait.
And yet one question gnawed at me. Why had Lady Katerina reacted so powerfully? Of course, any ruler has a duty to defend her own territory, but her response had seemed to go beyond even that.
Could it be that she knows more than I told her?
Perhaps she, too, senses the greater fear I could never put into words — the restlessness of the barbarians beyond the Northern Sea, the bitter cold deepening past all reason, and something that might one day threaten our entire world.
When I was young, I often read the old books of my family's library. Among them were records of an age known as the Great Freeze.
It was said to have been a dark era — a time when winter stretched on endlessly and spring never came, when kingdoms collapsed and civilization crumbled into barbarism.
Could such a time be approaching again? And did Lady Katerina feel it instinctively, just as I did?
Before returning to Sokolov territory, I sought out the Grand Duke's daughter one last time, to speak with her about what came next.
"The moment I return home, I intend to order every coastal village to reinforce its defenses. We will convert the lighthouse towers into watchtowers, and build shelters in each village."
She listened with a nod, her posture carrying a deep sense of duty — and an inner fire of conviction that burned reflected in those ruby eyes of hers.
"And the Sokolov family shipyard is building new vessels at this very moment. They were meant for trade, but I plan to convert half of them into warships."
At the height of my impassioned speech, Lady Katerina slowly set down her teacup.
"That would be the wise course, I daresay. Should the need arise, the Grand Ducal family will provide support as well."
The moment I heard those words, my heart filled with an even firmer resolve. We were no longer alone.
A fresh breeze swept through the garden, stirring Lady Katerina's golden ringlet curls ever so slightly. She looked, I thought, rather like... a Valkyrie. A warrior woman of myth — terrifying, and yet beautiful.
Throughout the long journey back to Sokolov territory, I organized my thoughts as I watched the landscape roll past the carriage window. On my lap lay the journal I had kept during my travels.
And on its final page, I wrote this:
Perhaps today I glimpsed the future. That future spoke in a strange manner and wore golden ringlet curls.
Northward, beneath a sky where the dark clouds gathered ever thicker, the carriage rolled on.
Several days had passed since Milena left Eisenfels, and the information she had shared still lodged stubbornly in my mind. The freak climate of the north, the sea raining ice, the stirring of the Sergen tribes.
The Sergen, of all things.
Warriors each standing some two meters tall, hardened survivors of a savage and merciless wilderness.
In other words, imagine an entire roster of heavyweight-ranked professional fighters — and in this medieval world of cold steel, that is an overwhelming advantage.
The people of the Grand Duchy are plenty rough and strong compared to the south, but still...
Assuming the climate truly had entered a little ice age, and assuming a leader had emerged to unite the tribes, their southward march was all but certain.
And it wouldn't be a mere coastal raid, either. They would throw everything into a desperate, do-or-die invasion of the "warm south" — the Grand Duchy. When exactly that would come, no one could say.
Of course, my worries might be nothing more than needless anxiety. But one thing was certain: I had made a promise to Milena that I would stand against them.
That damned desuwa ladyship, honestly.
Beyond the window, Eisenfels spread out beneath a sunset bleeding into gold, the city slowly being devoured by the shadows of evening.
Not wanting to stand there staring like an idiot and lose myself in the view, I stepped away from the window and walked to the center of the study.
A faint scent of aged wood always lingered in the Grand Duke's office. The desk, centuries old, gleamed with the polish of countless rulers' hands, and the portraits on the walls gazed down at me.
"Reading another letter from Their Graces, my lady?"
Eliza approached quietly, offering me a cup of tea with a faint smile.
"I find myself wondering what Father and Mother are thinking, I daresay."
Letters from my parents — currently touring the territories of the northern lords — lay spread across the desk. Father's letters were written in a cheerful, boisterous style, while Mother's were long-winded and penetrating.
Katerina, the northern lords are working to stockpile more food than they did last year. They say it is because of the bitter cold this past winter. What is your read on the matter?
Those words, tucked at the end of Mother's most recent letter, struck me as all the more ominous now. In hindsight, even the northern lords annexed after the war had already sensed the change.
"Eliza, do you recall, I wonder? The document my parents left behind before departing for the north."
"Of course, my lady. The document bearing the Grand Duke's seal, I take it?"
"Please bring it to me, if you would."
Eliza pulled a latch on the study wall, revealing a hidden compartment. From it she carefully drew out a heavy wooden box trimmed with metal fittings and set it down before me.
The crest of the Eisenmark family was emblazoned clearly upon its lid. Tracing the seal slowly with my fingertip, I recalled the image of my parents as the Katerina within me remembered them.
Inside the box lay a tightly sealed parchment document. As I unrolled it, lines written in my father's bold, vigorous hand came into view.
My northern tour will be longer than usual this time, as it always is.
My people will manage well enough without me, but my daughter is coming of age, and she is worthy to act in my stead.
Therefore, I, Chadomir Gigant Eisenmark, do hereby grant to my daughter, Katerina Eisenmark, the authority to act on my behalf as Grand Duke — within the directly governed domains alone.
"The authority to act as Grand Duke... within the directly governed domains alone."
I read the document over and over, but the words refused to change.
The directly governed domains — in other words, the city of Eisenfels and its surrounding lands, plus only the territories the Grand Ducal family administers itself. Nothing covering the lands of the great high nobles like the Volkovs or the Sokolovs.
I drew a deep breath. Compared to the entirety of the Grand Duchy, the scope of that authority was severely limited — but it was still a meaningful beginning.
Eisenfels was the heart of the Grand Duchy. If the threat beyond the Northern Sea and the shifting climate became reality, the very first task would be to put the directly governed domains in unshakable order.
"It is more than enough for a start, I daresay."
Folding the document carefully, I steeled myself. The excitement welling up inside me was probably the delight of Katerina's noble blood at acquiring power — but where there is power, responsibility always follows.
The Grand Duchy was absurdly vast, and the directly governed domains, though small by comparison, were still far from small. The population was nothing to scoff at either. The responsibility would never be a light one.
"Eliza. Summon every lord within the directly governed domains, the representatives of each city council, and the domain stewards. As quickly as possible, if you please."
Eliza's eyes widened slightly.
"My lady, that is quite a bold decision for your first official act as regent."
"Because boldness is exactly what this moment calls for."
Beyond the window, the city lights glittered like stars. And every one of those stars was a life I had sworn to protect.
The great council chamber had been bustling since early morning. Clusters of people of every rank and station murmured among themselves, the sound of their whispers echoing off the walls.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating motes of dust drifting through the air, and beneath that light the faces of some twenty people were revealed — representatives of the Eisenfels city council, minor nobles, and the Grand Ducal family's direct stewards. All of them seemed to share the same unspoken question.
Why has the Grand Duke's daughter suddenly summoned us all?
The moment I opened the chamber doors and stepped inside, the murmur died instantly. Every eye turned toward me, and in them I read both puzzlement and curiosity. I tried to walk in with my head held high, but I couldn't quite keep my nerves in check.
Is this basically like a cabinet meeting in twenty-first-century terms...?
No. Calm down. I can't let them see me rattled from the very start.
At the head of the chamber stood my father's seat — the Grand Duke's chair, a touch higher than all the others, the crest of House Eisenmark carved into its backrest.
From that seat, the entire chamber looked different. I straightened my spine and steeled myself for what was to come.