Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4: The Princess Who Received a Revelation

"Amen."

Having finished his evening prayer, Jan left the chapel.

He returned to his bedroom.

He was exhausted and weary.

But a guest was already waiting in the reception room located next to the bedroom.

"Couldn't sleep?"

Jan's voice was still blunt.

However, his anger had clearly subsided compared to last time.

Ela stared intently at Jan III washing his hands in a silver basin.

......

As soon as she fell here, she met a new father and a new mother. She also met new brothers and sisters.

She hadn't adapted to them yet.

Furthermore, it was hard to shake off the sadness of being separated from her original parents.

But Jan III resembled her former father a lot.

Or did he resemble her great-grandfather whom she had only seen in photos? It was enough for something similar to familial love to bloom in a corner of Ela's heart.

"I'm sorry, Father."

Father, Father. Let's try to get used to saying this word. Ela pledged to herself.

Jan slowly wiped his hands on a towel.

"It is done. As I said last time, I will hurry to find a suitable marriage partner. France or Austria, or maybe Italy would be fine. Spain, although far, wouldn't be bad either since the climate is mild."

Ela didn't dare to inform him that she would be going to a convent soon. If she did, he would try to stop her by any means necessary.

And right now, her safety wasn't the important thing. Ela's own safety was only third in priority.

Of course, the first was Jeong-hun.

Park Jeong-hun. Her love.

She sometimes had doubts too.

The two fell for each other too quickly.

Before coming here, they had even seriously discussed their future. It was when less than three months had passed since they started dating. Since visa issues were involved, it was right to discuss it as soon as possible, but still, it belonged to a very urgent category.

But life is unpredictable. If it's a match made in heaven, it was right to seize the opportunity when it came.

The oddly matching personalities and common hobbies gave comfort, and the fundamental cultural differences gave appropriate tension along with curiosity. Everything was harmonious.

Ela didn't want anyone else but him standing next to her, and conversely, she didn't want anyone else standing next to him either.

Furthermore, the moment they fell here together, Ela felt that her destiny was tied with an inseparable string to him.

She intended to do anything to save Jeong-hun and to be with him for the rest of her life.

Then the second priority after Jeong-hun is...

Maybe that is the reason why we, why I came here?

Poland. The country itself.

Ela bit her dry lips.

From now on, she had to talk with the King, no, her father. It is a very tense situation.

But who is she?

She is a talent among talents who graduated from the Department of Political Science at the University of Warsaw in modern Poland with excellent grades and even obtained a master's degree in Business Administration.

She was really good at debates too.

Even when dating Jeong-hun, they had debated various topics for hours.

"Father, do you really believe in the Holy League?"

Jan III, who was about to send his daughter away and go to sleep, opened his eyes wide at his daughter's sudden remark.

"What did you say?"

"Do you believe in His Holiness the Pope? Furthermore, do you believe in Austria and Rus?"

"...Elżbieta, stop it. That is not something for you to be involved in."

The warning voice was heavy and strict, but Jan was definitely hit in a sore spot. Ela also noticed his expression.

Seven years ago from now, in 1683.

Jan III achieved a tremendous victory in the Second Siege of Vienna and became the savior of Europe.

It was truly Jan III Sobieski's credit that Europe was able to counterattack the Ottomans and start the 'Great Turkish War' after the victory in Vienna.

But Europe forgot that grace too quickly.

So far, there had been no territorial or political rewards promised by the Pope.

In the current Holy League, their priority was pushed back by the Vatican, the Habsburg (Austria) Empire, the Tsardom of Rus, and even the Republic of Venice, famous for betraying as often as eating meals, making them practically the last.

Jan III's pride was hurt.

It would have been fine if it ended with just the King's pride being hurt. When he didn't get what he wanted, the Sejm started clamoring to scratch the King's authority. The reason was that he lost meaningless troops and funds.

It was natural for Jan III to be engulfed in complex anger.

"Father, listen to me."

"Elżbieta, why are you doing this? Ever since you met that Khitai, it seems like you are not the daughter I knew. My Koronka, what on earth happened?"

Ela squeezed her eyes shut. And she decided to tell a lie just this once.

"I received a revelation."

"......What? Did you receive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a revelation to hug that damn Khitai?"

Unable to hold back, he spoke sarcastically. But would Ela be upset by such a thing? She wanted to hug Jeong-hun once more right now.

"As he said, he is not a Khitai. He is a Korean... no, a Joseon person. Joseon, shall I write down the spelling?"

"Enough. In any case, it doesn't change the fact that he is lowly."

Ela flared up.

"He is not lowly. He is also of royal blood. Although the territory wasn't vast, it's the bloodline of a kingdom that lasted for a thousand years."

"What?"

"Mi...Miryang? Miryang? He said it was the Park family. It was a kingdom called Silla. Although Silla perished a long time ago, that family is still noble."

"......"

Neither Jan nor Ela could know the truth.

The father and daughter fell silent at the same time. Ela took advantage of Jan's somewhat softened mood and hurriedly changed the topic.

"His Holiness the current Pope will pass away next year."

"......! Crazy talk!"

Jan III glared. He tried to scold his daughter's mouth for uttering such blasphemous words, but seeing Ela's serious eyes, he suppressed his excitement. It was something he never thought would come out of his daughter's mouth.

"His Holiness Innocent XI was close with Father."

Pope Innocent XI, the Pope when Jan III saved Vienna.

He was upright as a faithful servant of the Lord and led the reform of the corrupt Vatican. He was generous to Protestants and Jews, and diplomatically very capable.

Innocent XI was the party concerned who united Europe and blocked the Ottoman invasion.

He was close to Jan III. Since Jan went to war at the Pope's own call and saved the Christian world at a desperate moment, how could the Pope not like Jan III?

But ironically, the Pope suffered from a serious illness from then on and had difficulty moving. Simultaneously, various big incidents erupted repeatedly inside the Vatican, making it difficult to pay attention to Poland. Jan was disappointed, but it couldn't be helped.

But the current Pope was the worst.

The head of the Roman Church now was Alexander VIII.

Unlike the upright former Pope, he was a typical example of a corrupt Pope. He was practicing nepotism, putting his relatives in major positions of the church again.

It was a bonus that his relationship with Jan III was bad. To be precise, rather than being bad, it was correct to say he was indifferent and insensitive. He only paid attention to traditional patrons of the Roman Church like Austria.

For Jan III, it felt like everything he had bestowed upon the Pope so far had disappeared like bubbles.

"But His Holiness is hale and hearty right now, isn't he?"

Ela shook her head at her father's counter-question.

She knew better than anyone. This period was quite important in Polish history. No cultured Pole could be unaware of it. Just like Jeong-hun could recite the Imjin War or Manchu War periods fluently.

"It's next year."

Jan III had a confused expression. But Ela read curiosity in her father's eyes.

"...Okay, let's say so. Then who will be the next Pope?"

Jan III decided to play along with her rhythm for now.

No, honestly, grasping at straws was the current feeling of Jan III.

"Cardinal Antonio Pignatelli will become Innocent XII."

"Pignatelli...? The former Apostolic Nuncio to Poland?"

"Yes."

Jan III was momentarily dazed by Ela's too concrete and confident answer.

If the current Pope dies soon, nine out of ten would think Cardinal Gregorio Barbarigo would be the next Pope.

But Pignatelli?

It's not impossible. Barbarigo is personally an excellent priest, but politically he has many enemies.

Cardinal Pignatelli, currently the Archbishop of Naples, also has sufficient standing. Jan III came up with various thoughts in his head in an instant.

Pignatelli, right, he has a past where he could become close to us. The motive too. If we can sponsor him first and show favor...

Jan suddenly looked at his daughter.

Until now, Jan III was famous as a henpecked husband who decided to follow the words of women, especially Queen Marie.

It wasn't a big problem. Marie was a woman full of intellect, rational, and didn't claim absurd things.

Especially her advice to establish an absolute monarchy in Poland like Louis XIV matched Jan's thoughts ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfectly.

But recently, his wife's pro-French foreign diplomacy ended only with disappointment.

He still loved his wife more than anything, but as an advisor, a little distrust had to arise.

But looking into the eyes of his daughter who just turned sixteen, Jan III felt a strange feeling.

For some reason, while feeling a sense of distance from his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠precious daughter, he felt an expectation. Did she really receive a revelation?

If she is the daughter of him and Marie, wouldn't she be as smart as our intellects combined?

Even though the Age of Enlightenment dawned, Jan III, and also Poland, still needed a savior.

"My daughter, are you Joanna of Arc (Joan of Arc) who received a revelation?"

At her father's question disguised as a joke, Ela couldn't hold back and laughed. The atmosphere definitely softened.

"No. How could that be."

Except for her proud chest, she didn't resemble Joan.

She couldn't climb over walls where arrows poured down, nor could she drive knights to annihilate the enemy.

Rather, what is close to that is...

Ela inadvertently looked out the window. What would her man be doing by now?

Write me a letter as promised. Often.

Early April 1691. Lwów.

It's cold.

It's April, but it's cold.

If April is this cold, how cold was it from November to March?

It's in the past, but I don't even want to think about it.

The cold weather training experienced in modern Korea was at the level of children's play. There were no proper heating devices or even hot packs here. Besides, the cold rising from the armor.

Jeong-hun, who just woke up from a warm bed, trembled and grabbed a quill in his barracks.

Before the daily routine started, this short time was the only true free time allowed. Especially recently when he returned after repeated maneuver training outdoors, it was an even more precious free time.

The damn winter is a harsh season, but conversely speaking, it was better than ever to train the army. Since it was a season unrelated to farming, there was no need to worry about crops being trampled.

Damn army.

Jeong-hun gritted his teeth.

The fortunate thing is that he didn't suffer alone. Jan III was reorganizing the Winged Hussars in full swing right now, and there were quite a few comrades who joined the army around the same time as him.

Did the experience of going to the army once help even in a completely different army of a completely different era? He belonged to the side that adapted very quickly.

Jeong-hun, who wrote the introduction of the letter for a while, wrote down the main point.

Strictly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠speaking, this cavalry unit, meaning 'Banner', had fewer personnel than a battalion.

The combat troops were slightly more than a company, but still, if you combine the servants, it was difficult to call it a company due to the characteristics of cavalry, so it had to be seen as a battalion.

In fact, this era was an era where organization was not properly established. Organized formation my ass; the number and organization of the unit varied widely depending on the place of origin or the person they served. Anyway, terms are not important.

Jeong-hun clicked his tongue at the writing he scribbled himself.

Hypocrisy is truly abundant.

But Jeong-hun knew well that this letter would be censored by 'someone'. There are few people who would censor even a letter sent to the Princess, but anyway, he didn't even write words like 'I saved a little of the money you gave me'.

In fact, it was natural for the King to take care of him.

In this era, not all Polish armies belonged to the Polish King.

Winged Hussars were also largely divided into two types: Royal Hussars organized by the King, and Private Hussars organized by nobles.

Jeong-hun was naturally assigned to the Royal Hussars. And Royal Hussars are literally troops raised directly by the King.

Since they were increasing troops in preparation for war, not only nobles and wealthy classes but also physically healthy commoners were serving in the Royal Hussars.

Among such commoners, those who could buy horses, armor, and weapons were few and far between. A quite large number of Winged Hussars received support from the King.

Jeong-hun was the same. No matter how much anger filled Jan to the brim of his chin, he wasn't a famous ruler and commander for nothing. Decent horses and decent armor were given to Jeong-hun as well.

The problem is he gave me something that isn't just decent...

Jeong-hun recalled his favorite horse.

He didn't name his favorite horse Wariat, which literally translates to Madman, for nothing.

"You bastard, are you really a Tatar?"

His company-level commander, who habitually committed racist tyranny based on ignorance, insulted him like that.

It's understandable. Does it make sense for a cavalryman not to be able to ride a horse? Even other clumsy recruits rode horses quite well. Let alone commoners.

A Tatar? Fine, I'll become a Mongol, your nightmare!

So to survive, he had to be crazy.

Jeong-hun, who grappled with his crazy horse and clearly let it know who the master was, spent most of his leisure time and personal maintenance time on the horse.

He peed on the horse, and ate on the horse.

If Wariat had a hard time, he rode on another spare horse.

Crazy horse-fucker bastard. Finally, by the time his comrades and superiors acknowledged him in a different direction, he became able to handle the horse to some extent.

The era of war is changing. Now was the era of handling gunpowder weapons. Even heavy cavalry sometimes had to use pistols. Even if the Caracole tactic was dying out, pistols were needed in anti-cavalry warfare. Jeong-hun was damn good at shooting guns since long ago.

But the problem was other combat.

Jeong-hun stared at his armor placed on the armor stand. Plate armor so heavy that even he, who served in the 21st-century Republic of Korea Army, shuddered.

Even after maintenance and repair, the traces of mortal struggle still remained on its surface. Jeong-hun looked at his own body, mottled red and blue.

The sleek and white body of a modern Korean with no particular scars was nowhere to be seen.

Numerous wounds and bruises were painted all over his body like a picture. Actually, even now, somewhere ached every time he moved.

But it was okay. His flesh strangely recovered quite quickly.

Of course, that pain didn't go anywhere. But Jeong-hun didn't write such trivial details in the letter.

Because the pain of not being able to see you is greater than this pain right now.

And above all.

It might sound like truly crazy talk.

There was talent. And it was fun.

(End of Chapter)

— Translated by Prime Works —