#137. This Too, the Card Was Already Prepared
“It won’t take as long as you think.”
Despite the flush on his face, Sharkel’s manner was entirely natural. Remarkably composed for his age.
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Judging from the way he handled his sword—and his solid build—he could very well grow into a fine warrior.
Thinking this, I followed close beside Sharkel as he guided me along the forest path.
He probably thought my night vision was poor.
“But still, I’m surprised you decided to come here in person.”
“Securing the Nikal tribe’s cooperation seemed more important than anything else right now.”
I spoke lightly, as if in passing.
“And I thought, if I was lucky, I might run into you as well.”
I could feel Sharkel’s gaze brush against my cheek as I went on calmly.
“Good thing I brought some fabric along, then.”
“I… see.”
That seemed to be his limit. Hearing Sharkel’s slightly shaken voice, I decided not to press him further tonight.
There were still a few issues where I needed his cooperation, but there was no reason to rush.
“Very well, I’ll accept.”
Dagon’s answer came faster than I expected. He gave it to me the very next morning, the moment we met.
Yesterday, at the council, he’d looked uncertain. Perhaps Sharkel’s persuasion had worked wonders? Maybe Dagon valued his son more highly than I thought.
Either way, things moving quickly was only to my advantage.
There was still so much to be done.
“However, even nominally, I must seek agreement from the other village chiefs.”
“That I understand. After all, cooperation between villages will be essential to form an army.”
Strictly speaking, I wouldn’t even need a barbarian army until a bit later. I hadn’t held the funeral yet. By the time I went to the capital and dealt with various matters, their agreements would be finished.
As I was rearranging the schedule in my head, Dagon’s next words came as an even bigger surprise.
“I appreciate your understanding. In return, as a token of our pact, I’ll send my son with you. Take him.”
Now, this was different from the earlier surprise. Before, the timing was just faster than expected—but the content itself wasn’t shocking.
But sending Sharkel with me? Without me even asking for proof, he was offering up his heir?
If I questioned it—“Are you sure about this?”—it might only sow distrust.
So instead, I simply softened my expression, as though touched by his goodwill. Dagon then explained without being asked.
“When the army is organized, Sharkel will lead the warriors. So treat him as you would treat me.”
Ah. So he meant to let his son, as the tribe’s next leader, personally observe our movements.
Whatever his intention, it worked out well for me. On the battlefield, Sharkel’s inexperience would only make it easier for me to assume command.
Convincing a seasoned warrior like Dagon to follow my strategies would have been far more troublesome.
“I’ll repay this trust to the utmost. I promise Sharkel will receive the best treatment.”
I said warmly, then shook Dagon’s hand.
And with that, my forces had grown.
The next thing I needed to prepare was diplomacy—to cover the gap left by the barbarians’ absence.
Of course, that card too had already been prepared.
*
News of the kingdom’s tragedy reached the Empire with some delay.
Official communication took a month. But a carrier pigeon, sent secretly by an informant, arrived in five days.
That meant the Empire had a 25-day window to brace itself and prepare an official response.
“—Poison?”
Liana frowned as she read the urgent telegram.
“During the meal, they suddenly collapsed, coughing up blood and foam. So yes, poison. But the type couldn’t be identified.”
Verken replied calmly.
“Fortunate that the carriage wheel broke, then.”
The remark came from Rachia, who had made the rare trip all the way to the imperial palace.
It was unusual for the four of them to gather in one place, but this was no ordinary matter—seven royal family members slain at once, with Blanche, the Empire’s quasi-royal, entangled in it.
“Yes. Had that not happened, Blanche might have drunk the poison as well.”
Liana picked up on Rachia’s layered words and clarified them. To ease the silence, Verken turned to the unusually quiet Melchizedek.
“Will you be the one to attend the funeral, Melki?”
“If I go, it might look strange.”
Despite his quiet tone, Melchizedek didn’t seem downcast.
“If it’s about showing support for Blanche, it might be better to send Lady Martina. But—”
“—sending someone without a title would make it look like we’re treating the kingdom lightly.”
At this point, the Empire had only heard that Princess Langrisha had attempted suicide by poison.
So, the imperials assumed she might also be at risk of death.
If that happened, Blanche would become first in line for the throne.
Thus, the imperial family aimed to signal to the continent that the Empire took the kingdom seriously—buying Blanche time to stabilize internal affairs.
“Then let’s make Duke Martina the envoy, with his daughter accompanying him. As an imperial duke, it wouldn’t be inappropriate.”
“In that case, I’ll go to the Ducal House. Wouldn’t it be better if she had someone of her own age?”
Melchizedek quickly volunteered to act as messenger.
“I’ll give the young duke a heads-up. We’re supposed to meet at a tea party this week anyway—he’ll need to be mentally prepared.”
The official death announcement hadn’t even arrived yet. No formal orders could be given.
But since word would spread regardless, a quiet hint about who would attend the funeral was harmless.
Liana took on that role.
With goodwill toward Blanche as a given, the Empire’s policy was swiftly decided.
All of them were politically skilled enough to know exactly how to show support for Blanche while avoiding any unnecessary misunderstandings.
“I just hope Blanche doesn’t suffer too much through this.”
Liana’s sigh of concern drifted over the table, now that decisions had been made.
The response that came was ambiguous—neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
“So, Melki. What do you think?”
After escorting Rachia back from the palace, Melchizedek returned to find this question waiting for him. He leaned against the door, letting out a weary groan.
Maybe it was his imagination, but his head throbbed.
“Can I refuse to answer?”
Verken—who had somehow gotten inside before the palace’s master herself—answered smoothly on Liana’s behalf.
“Of course.”
So easily that it was suspicious. Narrowing his eyes, Melchizedek saw Verken smiling calmly.
“It’s not like I don’t know Princess Blanche. Do you think I asked you because I needed certainty? You’re the one feeling stifled because you can’t speak openly.”
Truly, even after years apart, he hadn’t changed.
Melchizedek let out several short sighs and sat opposite him.
“The kingdom seems to have been constantly pressuring Blanche.”
“Pressuring her enough that you didn’t need to intervene, right?”
Melchizedek didn’t respond. Because it was true.
Verken’s question was simple: Was this poisoning Blanche’s doing?
By Melchizedek’s judgment, yes.
If the poison had been meant for Blanche, why were all the other royals struck down instead? Impossible.
If she’d been present, would that mean she aimed to wipe out the royal family? But even if someone wanted Blanche dead, there was no reason to annihilate House Lamore entirely.
And the poison required to kill one person versus nine was vastly different.
So yes, this was Blanche’s work. But certainly not because of the kingdom’s pressure.
She knew at least ten easier ways to shake that off.
“Same as before… If something bothers her, Princess Blanche uses poison? Isn’t that too obvious?”
“To someone she doesn’t care to hide it from, yes. After all, almost no one suspects the poisoning was staged.”
Right. Blanche had no intention of deceiving Melchizedek.
He was always far too difficult, too complex a man to fool.
“Then another question—why does Blanche insist on taking the long, complicated path instead of the easy one?”
The Kingdom of Lamore was like a chicken rib—troublesome to chew, but still worth eating if you had the appetite.
Conquering it meant sharing a border with the Kingdom of Cartian, explaining to the continent why Lamore had to be absorbed, and a slew of other hassles.
“…Because it was something I could solve for her.”
Melchizedek covered his face with one hand. That alone was enough to hide his expression.
