An Uninvited Guest Arrives Mid-Meeting, Death!
"Polonski, it is true that my past self lacked a certain scholarly curiosity. But a great deal has changed since my fall."
I pointed a finger at my forehead. Unfortunately, there was no scar or mark left behind that I could show the others.
"An experience that brings a person to death's door has a way of changing them. Since the accident, I have... found myself contemplating, deeply, my role and my responsibilities as heir to this Grand Duchy."
But Polonski still looked as though he did not believe a word of it.
"Then you acquired all of this knowledge in a span of less than a single season?"
Bald old doubter. Though I suppose his skepticism is perfectly reasonable. My father certainly knew how to pick his men.
According to Katerina's memories, her father — Chadomir Gigant Eisenmark — often told her, "I never trust a man who cannot bring himself to defy his superiors."
The result of staffing his household under that principle was, at best, a roster overflowing with conviction — filled, but only with people who actually had the ability to back it up. Polonski was one of the men her father had favored since his own youth.
"Not all of it, no. These plans were drawn up together with my personal maid, Eliza, and are based on materials I discovered in the old library. To be perfectly candid, Eliza's counsel was a great help to me."
As if to supplement my words, Eliza stepped forward and bowed her head.
"Lord Polonski, the young lady has lately devoted herself to her research in the library well into the night. Her passion for study has changed to a remarkable degree since her injury."
Just as I was thinking this ought to be enough to put his doubts to rest, Polonski pressed the attack once more.
"Even so, knowledge of this kind would normally require years of research. Could simply reading a handful of books produce plans this systematic?"
The question struck far too close to the bone, and for a moment I was at a loss for words. How exactly was I supposed to explain the source of my modern-era knowledge?
"I will grant you, everyone, that my proposals may sound somewhat innovative. But in truth, most of them are merely combinations of measures that have been attempted before."
I rested my hands on the table and swept my gaze across the assembled council, buying myself time to think.
"The food management system follows methods our ancestors used during the wars against the demon cavalry legions of the East. The principle of first-in, first-out is elementary to any merchant of the southern Empire. And underground storage is a technology that has seen long use, dating back to well before the Great Frost."
"Do you, then, possess specific documents that could verify the source of this knowledge?"
"Of course."
When Polonski posed the question yet again, Eliza stepped forward once more.
"I have already prepared a list of the documents I consulted in assisting the young lady."
She unfurled a small scroll.
"The primary references were the Grand Ducal library's Surviving the North, Four Seasons of Bitter Cold, and Annals of the Great Frost Era."
Several of the venerable old nobles who saw the list opened their eyes wide. One of them spoke up.
"Ah, those documents... I have never actually read them myself, but I have at least heard of them. They are historical records, are they not?"
Eliza, you absolute gem!
Eliza's statement just now, along with the evidence she had brought, was probably laced with a generous helping of bluffing. In other words — pure bullshitting.
And the bluff landed beautifully. The atmosphere in the council chamber softened, and the current of suspicion began slowly to shift.
After a long and winding debate, my principal proposals were approved for implementation. I fought to keep the smile off my face, but inwardly I savored the satisfaction of my first political victory.
"Then let this bring today's council to a close—"
I had successfully delivered a presentation I'd worked hard on, and every one of my proposals had been accepted. Just as I was about to end the meeting—
The doors of the council chamber burst open, and Woldin, Captain of the Royal Guard, stumbled in, gasping for breath. Far from his usual composed self, his forehead was beaded with sweat.
"My lady, a delegation from Sergen has arrived from the north and reached the city plaza. They are demanding to see you at once."
Tension flooded the chamber in an instant. I could see the nobles and other attendees exchanging anxious glances.
"A delegation... from Sergen, you say? It should have been impossible for them to approach Eisenfels without being seen by a single soul. Why on earth am I only hearing about this after they have arrived in the city?"
When I raised an eyebrow and asked, a flicker of embarrassment crossed Woldin's face. Before he could answer, a minor noble seated nearby cut in — one who had apparently once overseen the trade routes.
"They most likely came up one of the Eisen River's tributaries aboard shallow-draft vessels, then beached the boats nearby and came the rest of the way on foot. Sergen ships can pass through shallows that wouldn't rise past a grown man's waist."
Woldin, who looked for all the world as if he were silently thanking the unknown noble for saving his life, nodded along vigorously and added,
"They have come in the name of a new leader called 'Kurgan the Unifier,' and they claim to bear an important diplomatic communiqué."
Kurgan the Unifier...
It was, of course, a name I had never heard before — and yet it struck me as somehow ominous. We had been discussing the threat from the north only moments ago, and now it seemed my predictions were materializing into reality.
Unease rippled through the other attendees as well.
"The Unifier?"
"All of the Sergen tribes, truly?"
"What is their armament?"
"What in the world is their purpose..."
Under the deluge of questions, Woldin gave a brief answer.
"Roughly twenty of them — all hulking giants of men. They are armed, but have shown no hostile behavior as yet. The delegation's leader is called Volgar, and he is demanding direct dialogue with whoever governs this land."
"Whoever governs it, is it..."
Every gaze in the room swung toward me.
A grand duke in name only, but I am technically the acting authority, after all.
I placed my hands on the table and rose to my feet. It was true that most of our discussions had centered on the cold and the famine; we had said relatively little about the Sergen tribes beyond the Northern Sea, and I had never imagined an external threat would materialize first.
"I will receive them myself."
At my firm declaration, Polonski shot up from his seat.
"My lady, that would not be a wise decision. The Sergens are savages, and their intentions are unknown. First we must deploy the guard and—"
I cut him off with a raised hand.
"I believe that confirming matters with my own eyes is the wise decision."
After clearing the council chamber of its occupants, I walked to the window and looked down over the plaza. From the citadel's high windows, the massive figures gathered at its center were plainly visible.
They wore helmets crowned with horn ornaments, thick furs draped across their shoulders, and stood a full head and more taller than the citizens around them. There was no mistaking them — Sergen warriors.
"Woldin, position the guard around the plaza, but do not create an atmosphere of alarm. Keep the citizens at a safe distance."
My footsteps, as I strode out of the chamber, were unexpectedly light. Along with everything else, the moment had come to put my diplomatic skills to the test as well.
Not that this meant I felt no tension. Descending the citadel's broad staircase, I took a deep breath.
Stay calm. They are human beings like anyone else. And I... am the young lady of Eisenmark.
At the bottom of the stairs, Eliza — perfectly composed — and Bielka — her face a portrait of worry — were waiting for me. Eliza calmly adjusted my cloak while Bielka smoothed my hair with trembling hands.
"You're strong, my lady, so you'll be fine..."
"Thank you, Bielka."
With my two maids in tow, I passed through the citadel's main gates and made for the stairs leading down to the Upper City. Word had evidently spread already, for the townsfolk were watching from their windows and balconies.
As I descended the steps from the Upper City toward the plaza, the Sergen delegation came into full view. They stood in a circle, ringed at a measured distance by guardsmen with grim, tense faces.
Some twenty grown men made up the delegation, every one of them a warrior — all standing at least two meters tall, with powerful, muscled frames.
Their armor was a hybrid of leather and metal, and blue tattoos wound across their faces and arms.
The man standing at the center of the delegation drew the eye most of all. Even larger than the rest of his warriors by a full head, he wore a helmet crowned with the horns of a great buffalo. His eyes were blue — cold as glacier ice.
As I approached, he took a single step forward. His gaze swept up and down my figure, and a faint sneer flickered at the corner of his mouth.
"A woman is the ruler of this land? Then are you the Chosen of the Thunder God?"
His voice boomed low as rolling thunder, and the crowd around us stirred at his words. Katerina's instincts — her fury — came surging up hot in my chest, but I crushed it down calmly and answered in a proud, steady voice.
"That would be my mother, the Grand Duchess. The ruler of this land is my father, Grand Duke Eisenmark. They are both away at present, and I govern this land in their stead."
At my answer, the delegation's leader — Volgar — tilted his head slightly. His eyes fixed for a moment on my ruby-colored ones.