Chapter 21: A Cruel Technique II

Late into the night, Shuou awoke suddenly. After dinner, he’d been ushered into a guest room, falling asleep on a large bed. How long had passed since then? He’d lost all track of time, unable to differentiate between his racing thoughts and the dreams he’d experienced during brief periods of sleep.

The furnace fire had started to die out, the cold air of a midwinter night dulling the sensation in his fingertips. Contrary to his desire for even a little sleep, his eyelids grew lighter with the passing of time. These hours spent alone in idleness were suffocating.

Putting on his leather shoes, which had grown battered over the past few days, Shuou traveled down the frigid corridor alone. He saw no one who worked in the manor. Perhaps everyone had gone to sleep, as he heard nothing either. After wandering around the mansion on unsteady legs, his footsteps the only audible sound, Shuou arrived in the snowy courtyard. On this windless night, white powder fell from the sky. Despite the lack of moonlight, a blanket of snow illuminated the evening courtyard in a white glow.

A covered terrace in the center of the courtyard caught his eye. Due to the lack of wind, very little snow had accumulated on the stone bench. “Rest here,” it seemed to say, drawing his attention. Though the cold had frozen the bench, Shuou felt no pain as he sat upon it.

Leaning against the solid, chilly seatback, he stared at the falling snow. In doing so, he lost all sense of reality, peering into a fantastic world. To the current Shuou, the sensation of having stumbled into a realm of unreality was indescribably comforting.

The sudden arrival of another person pulled him back into the present.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

Wrapped in a fluffy, purple overcoat, the master of this manor called out to him.

“That seems to be the case,” answered Shuou.

Amue tossed her small body onto the bench next to Shuou. “You speak as if it were someone else’s problem.”

“I don’t know why I’m here anymore. Originally, I left on a journey because I wanted to learn about the world. To accomplish that, I took my first step, arriving safely on the other side.  Yet when I thought I’d taken my second step—”

“It felt as though your feet had sunk into snow? In that case, I bear the responsibility for pulling you into this world. For that, I sincerely apologize.”

When Amue spoke, she wore the expression of a scolded child.

“N-No…” said a flustered Shuou. “Since I decided this for myself, I don’t think of it as anyone else’s fault. Apart from that, there are so many things I don’t understand.”

“Things you don’t understand?” repeated Amue, blowing a warm breath into her palms. “If you’d like, you may share your concerns with me. Despite appearances, I’ve lived a long time. I might be able to provide you with answers.”

“A lot of things seem hazy to me. Like the queen of Aventurine, for example. I understand that she rules over a large number of people, but what meaning did her actions have? If, in the future, she uses similarly violent methods to have her demands met, does she really believe that others will accept them without question?”

“I don’t know the details, but at the very least, I doubt she performed these actions thinking her demands would be met. Murakumo isn’t so good natured that it will just accept the requests of foreign countries. Considering that she gathered her people to make a spectacle of our captured Squires, she likely wanted to present herself as a strong queen. However, if that were her only reason, I’m still uncertain as to why she freed you, forcing you to carry an official letter.”

“You think she has another objective?” asked Shuou.

Amue’s mouth tightened. “Presumably, she does. Though many people regard Queen Faye as a foolish profligate, my opinion of her isn’t so low. When the former king died, she silenced the vassals who called for someone of the male lineage to inherit Sandstone, ascending to the throne without causing a disturbance. Pulling off such a feat required tremendous ability. Perhaps this is just my imagination, but I suspect the queen is plotting something.”

“…What could she be plotting?”

“Like a child, the queen is testing Murakumo to see how much misbehavior we will allow. As I explained earlier, Murakumo’s relationship with its surrounding countries is unstable. If the queen performed her reckless stunt with this knowledge, she didn’t act entirely without a plan. The matter might be trivial to us, but if our enemies perceive us as having shaky footing, their galvanized forces could invade our territory.

“In that case, we’d have no choice but to turn a blind eye to this childish prank. Even if the military’s top brass learned of this affair, they would – in all likelihood – disregard it. Consequently, this whole debacle would serve as an indicator of how much mischief Murakumo will tolerate. Well, these are mostly my personal conjectures. I can’t be certain of anything.”

Listening to Amue, Shuou breathed a small sigh. “She did all that just to test Murakumo?”

“Though not all world leaders are the same, politics is a repetition of such ordinary affairs. Still, more than a few people are misguided in their conduct. I can’t abandon the possibility that this queen is acting out of boredom.”

Shuou looked around in no particular direction.

“You still look unrelieved,” said Amue. “Are you that bothered by Queen Faye?”

“Not so much anymore. But in the audience chamber…”

A number of faces crossed Shuou’s mind. He’d tried not to think about this, tried not to remember this. Wearing the most hideous expressions he’d even seen, the people of Aventurine had shouted abuse at Hinokaji during his assault. Even now, their bloodshot eyes were etched into his mind.

“What’s wrong?” Amue asked concernedly, finding Shuou’s condition odd.

“I can’t forget their faces.”

“Their faces? What do you mean?”

Shuou bit his lower lip.  “The bloodshot eyes and twisted mouths of people overjoyed to see someone being tortured… I don’t understand. How can someone be so excited, so delighted to see a nonresistant Squire Sergeant being tormented?”

Hurling these last few words, Shuou stood, turning his back to Amue. His face must have looked pathetic, like that of a crying infant. He didn’t want Amue to see him in such a state.

“You’ve witnessed some rather unpleasant things, it would seem. Nevertheless, I can – to some extent – understand their feelings.”

In response to Amue’s words, Shuou spun around. “You understand those who can laugh at someone in pain?”

His words contained the barest hint of provocation.

“Deriving pleasure from watching abuse is one facet of human nature,” said Amue. “Knowing that, I can understand without agreeing. Fundamentally, the Aventurine citizens you encountered don’t feel joy from watching acts of cruelty. Seeing the torture of Murakumo citizens is what drove them into such a frenzy.”

“What do you mean?”

“We can trace the beginnings back to Murakumo’s conquest of Aventurine. Through overwhelming military force, we gained control of Aventurine, but oddly enough, we didn’t rob them of their sovereignty. Leaving the nation half dead, we merely deprived Aventurine of its military, forcing its citizens to pay lenient taxes.

“This relationship between suzerain and vassal state has continued for a long, long time. As you know, it’s maintained even now. Despite having no means to protect itself, the country must continue paying taxes. Born from this combination, Aventurine citizens feel a latent sense of inferiority towards the people of Murakumo. Thus, they tend to blame all their misfortune upon their wicked suzerain state, their hatred swelling larger by the day.”

Pausing, Amue exhaled a sorrowful breath.

“When Murakumo first conquered Aventurine, we should have incorporated their nation into our own. Though we haven’t been flexible with Aventurine, we haven’t levied unreasonable taxes against them either. In fact, their burden is far lighter compared to what our people bear. Yet within their small world, they likely can’t understand that. The queen has taken advantage of her peoples’ deep-rooted dissatisfaction towards us, using it as an outlet for the resentment born from her governing. Seeing their queen abuse and torment Murakumo citizens, she must have appeared as a savior to them.”

“Are you telling me to forgive those people because they’ve suffered as well?”

Though Amue chuckled at Shuou’s words, her laughter contained neither ridicule nor condescension.

“Forgiveness isn’t the issue here,” she said. “What’s important is whether or not you can understand someone and keep that knowledge in mind. If you are able to do so, you will – at the very least – become free of your current condition.”

Stretching out her small arm, Amue flicked Shuou on the cheek, smiling.

“Will I ever become capable of that?” Shuou asked in a low voice, touching his cheek.

“The young think with their hearts. However, as one grows older, experience and accumulated knowledge begin to dictate their actions. Regardless of your desires, this will also happen to you someday. To worry is a privilege afforded to the young. Let your mind be troubled without shame.”

Amue jumped to her feet. “Let’s call it a night. This might surprise you, but I had a most enjoyable time keeping you company. I give you my thanks.”

Watching Amue as she started to leave, Shuou spoke up. “No, thank you. Not only did you forgive my intrusion, but you also had this conversation with me.”

“Think nothing of it,” said Amue, disappearing into the building.

The courtyard reverted back to a place of silence in which Shuou was alone. He had only spoken to Amue for a short period of time. Even so, the fog hanging over his mind – present since before their conversation – had cleared somewhat.

Grabbing a handful of snow piled on the railing, Shuou chucked the snowball towards nothing in particular. The white expanse swallowed the snowball, leaving behind a small number of dark footprints. Shuou returned to his room on somewhat lighter feet than when he’d come to the courtyard.

***

“Time to wake up.”

Shuou woke to a kind voice and a hand rocking his body. Barely managing to open his eyelids, he found Kazahina – dressed in a crisp Bright uniform – peering at him.

“Kazahina…?”

As Shuou sat up sluggishly, he noticed it was still dark outside. Thus, he suspected that not much time had passed since he’d fallen asleep.

“Did something happen?” he asked.

Wearing a meek expression, Kazahina nodded. “As we discussed the other day, the meeting is approaching. Amue instructed me to let you sleep for as long as possible, but I feared that you might be starving after not eating for an entire day. As such, I woke you up with a little time to spare.”

“A whole day…? Then it’s already time.”

Shuou leapt out of bed.

“Don’t worry,” said Kazahina. “This morning, Lady Amue negotiated with Lord Gwen in secret, which turned out well. I didn’t hear the details, but according to Lady Amue, the situation isn’t so bad. Even so, Lord Gwen did propose one condition. Once he has heard a report of this event from some directly involved, he will make his final decision. This will likely come as a great shock, but you’ve been ordered to appear before the Council of Four Stones at once. We still have a little time to spare, though. As I’ve cleaned and dried your Squire uninform, I recommended putting that on and having a light meal.”

Feeling anxious about his sudden duty, Shuou scrambled to get ready. As instructed, he donned his Squire uniform, clean enough to look brand new. He then forced down a meal, which – despite being “simple” – was extravagant in both quality and volume.

In the blink of an eye, the time arrived for him to leave the manor and head towards Crystal Palace, where the meeting would take place. Boarding a carriage in the courtyard, he found another passenger already inside.

“You slept well,” Amue said teasingly. “The servant who brought you breakfast panicked because you were so unresponsive.”

“I have a difficult time waking up when I’m tired.”

“Judging from your complexion, you’ve recovered well enough. You’ve likely heard from Kazahina, but the need has arisen for you to report the details of this affair directly to Lord Gwen. Can you do that?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Shuou replied at once.

“Yes, I thought as much. Well then, let’s head out.”

With a gesture, Amue signaled to Kazahina, who was on horseback outside the carriage. Without giving the order to depart, Kazahina dismounted, whispering into Amue’s ear.

“Your Excellency, I’ve just received word that Jada Serpentia will be attending the Council of Four Stones as Duke Serpentia’s attendant.”

Upon hearing this, Amue’s expression froze. “How unpleasant. Must I bear the sight of that face?”

“What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. I have other priorities on this occasion.”

“Understood,” said Kazahina, remounting her horse and instructing the driver to depart.

Immediately, the carriage began advancing towards Crystal Place, the horses’ hooves clip-clopping against the ground. Facing Amue, the duchess’s face appeared full of anger and displeasure. Shuou wondered what sort of person could – in so short a time – cause someone’s heart to sink so low. Thus, he decided to ask her directly.

“Who were you talking about?”

Looking up, Amue answered with a small sigh. “Jada Serpentia. He is a Bright of the Solid Right Army and the youngest son of Duke Serpentia, bearer of Antigorite. Despite being an excellent soldier, he has a taste for blood and gore, butchering enemy soldiers using the cruelest means imaginable. The violent rumors surrounding him are endless, and many know his name alongside his infamy.

“Though seeing Antigorite is unpleasant enough, being in the presence of his son – who reeks of carnage – is unbearable. I suspect he’s brought Jada along on purpose, knowing it will make me uncomfortable. No matter their origins, I appreciate exceptional people, but those who enjoy slaughter, who laugh while showering in blood do not fit that category.”

Just by listening, Shuou could understood why Amue displayed such discomfort. Jada Serpentia wasn’t someone he wanted to associate with either.

“Can you refuse his attendance?” asked Shuou.

“I cannot. During the Council of Four Stones, each member is allowed to bring a single adjutant or attendant. Since we’ve heard news of Jada Serpentia’s attendance, Lord Gwen has already approved of his presence. Thus, merely speaking would be pointless. But anyhow, this isn’t something for you to worry about. Jada isn’t a madman. It’s merely unpleasant for me lay my eyes upon him. That’s all. “

“I see.”

As Amue instructed Shuou on how to act during the meeting and what important points to address, the carriage crossed a long bridge, arriving at Crystal Palace. Now marked the seventh day since Hinokaji and Miyahi had been taken prisoner. When the sun rose and night fell once more, the sand in the hourglass would finish trickling down to the bottom.

There’s no time left.

The gentle illumination of Moonstones enveloped the interior of Crystal Palace. Similar to Sand Castle, expensive ornamentations were displayed here and there, but each one was exhibited with enough elegance to be unobtrusive. Rather, these decorations were pleasing to the eye. Ascending several long staircases, Shuou entered a meeting room on the uppermost floor alongside Amue.

At that moment, tension prickled his skin. A round table stood in the small room, one person sitting enshrined in the innermost center. He had the physique of a lion and the face of a hawk. Despite being an old man with white hair, his eyes were as sharp as a panther’s, his blackish red Sunstone emitting a peculiar color.

As motionless as a giant tree, the man Shuou had seen only once from a distance sat there.

The Vampire Lord.

The name he’d once heard rose to mind.

Sliding his gaze sideways, Shuou discovered a bald, middle-aged man, his eyes darting about. Likely, the bright green Sunstone shining on his left hand was the Radiantore called Antigorite. Shuou had also seen this man only once. Each time Amue spoke of Duke Serpentia, her expression twisted in detestation. Back bent like an invalid, the duke goggled at Shuou, appraising him.

Overcome with indescribable revulsion, Shuou averted his gaze from Serpentia, locking eyes with the person standing behind the duke. With almond eyes and a slender, willowy build, his long hair was a pale chartreuse. Furthermore, his beautiful face resembled a work of art modeled after a goddess. For one moment, Shuou forgot to breathe, mesmerized by his form. However…

“Is there something on my face?”

Contrasting his appearance, he had an unimaginably deep, husky voice. Shocked, Shuou somehow managed to resist backing away.

“No…”

Flustered, it was all Shuou could do to give that reply.

“Jada, where do you think you are?” asked Serpentia. “Do not speak without permission.”

In response to the duke’s warning, the handsome young man named Jada smiled at Shuou, bowing and closing his mouth.

Jada?

Hearing the man’s name, Shuou remembered what he’d been told during the journey here. Nevertheless, he couldn’t reconcile what Amue had told him with the person standing before him, who could only be described as a woman of peerless beauty.

Following a short delay, Kazahina entered the room, standing behind Amue, who – from Shuou’s perspective – sat to the left. Afterwards, the door closed.

Speaking in a dignified tone, Gwen began the conversation. “There are several matters we need to decide upon, but first, I’d like to take care of the issue proposed by Duchess Adulelia.”

“Speaking of which, I only heard of this matter a moment ago,” Duke Serpentia spoke in a high-pitched, restless voice. “Being asked to provide an answer without time for consideration isn’t very pleasant. Couldn’t you have informed me of this a littler earlier?”

“You didn’t arrive in the capital until late at night,” Amue said with evident displeasure. “How could I have relayed this to you before then? I gave you my utmost consideration.”

Duke Serpentia’s eyes twitched. “In addition to the delayed report, letting such a low-ranking Squire attend the venerable Council of Four Stones is unacceptable. From what I’ve heard, he is the Squire who informed us of this matter. Though he may have been brought here to testify, I for one feel as though a sacred space has been defiled. Do you not have similar thoughts, Lord Gwen?

After glancing at Shuou, who stood idly at the entrance, Serpentia appealed to Gwen.

“I ordered him to appear so that we could make a decision based on clear information.”

In response to Gwen’s statement, Serpentia rattled off a panicked response. “O-Oh, I see. In that case, I’m not, um, particularly inconvenienced… either.”

As Shuou watched Serpentia’s back grow smaller and smaller, he began to have doubts about this man being an eminent noble of Murakumo.

“Lord Serpentia appears convinced,” said Amue. “Shall we move this discussion along? There is limited amount of time in which we can convene in the same room.”

Gwen responded to her urging with a silent nod. “I have no objections. Squire, I give you permission to speak. Give us your account of what transpired.”

“…Yes,” replied Shuou, carefully choosing each word to describe his experience.

He described the Prince’s visit to Winter Fortress and the inn his party had stopped by on their way to Aventurine. Finally, he described the queen’s conduct and her numerous proclamations within Sand Castle. When Shuou had finished reporting everything, Gwen closed his eyes, falling silent as if in deep thought.

Unable to bear the protracted silence, Amue spoke up. “Our soldiers, our citizens are being confined for senseless reasons. Even now, the time limit on their lives continues to dwindle. We should think of a means to resolve this at once.”

Serpentia raised an objection to her statement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. From the very beginning, there are too many uncertain variables involved in this matter. I know of this queen’s reputation, but I doubt even she would harm our country’s soldiers without good reason. If this story is true, Sandstone’s actions are tantamount to treason against Murakumo. We have a letter, which we cannot confirm is from the queen, and the report of a dubious Squire whose nationality is unknown. Treating these things as certain fact is dangerous, wouldn’t you agree?”

Amue furrowed her brow. “Mind what you say,” she argued. “This young man is a worthy Squire of Murakumo.”

“If you can look at his dull gray hair and still be so easily convinced, I’ll have no choice but to renounce my title and become a hermit. This young man clearly hails from a northern country. If a soldier of twenty or thirty years had delivered this report, I wouldn’t doubt it. However, I cannot unquestioningly accept the words of a brand new enlistee whose origins are unknown. First, we should dispatch an investigative team to Winter Fortress and have an official envoy confirm the truth in Aventurine. Furthermore, I suggest looking into this Squire’s background.”

The cunning eyes of a serpent, having crawled from the depths of the earth, bore into Shuou.

With all her might, Amue slammed her tiny fists onto the round table. “Have you forgotten about the time limit, you snakehead!?”

Holding his bald head, the agitated Serpentia rattled off his retort. “What…? T-Take that back! I’m merely stating the obvious: that we should proceed with caution!”

“Humph. Long ago, I found you lost in the palace on the verge of tears. You were still somewhat cute back then. Though I extended my hand to you as child, you now raise objections to each and every one of my statements. A little ungrateful, wouldn’t you say?”

“You dare rehash such an old story…?” said Serpentia, leveling his resentful gaze at Amue. “I just remembered this, but while I was still a child, you took my hand, leaving me behind in the freezing, underground storehouse, didn’t you!?”

Amue turned away, her expression cold. “Who knows? I’ve forgotten about such ancient events. Perhaps you’re confusing what I did with someone else’s actions.”

Like children, the pair quarreled about the past. Overflowing with humanity, their behavior taught Shuou that even elites with special titles and ranks were fundamentally no different from ordinary people. However, when their mediator spoke, his indifferent voice lacking any trace of humanity, an air of solemnity returned to the room.

“Both of you, let us put an end to this discussion of the past.”

As soon as Gwen raised his hand to restrain them, both the duke and the duchess obediently closed their mouths.

“First, let’s proceed as if everything related to this matter is true,” said Gwen. “We have enough evidence to make that assumption, I believe.”

Amue nodded.

“The queen invited Murakumo Squires to her castle under false pretenses, had them assaulted, and then confined them,” Gwen continued. “Furthermore, she is using our Squires’ lives as a shield to make convenient demands. This is a clear act of treason. As Aventurine is our vassal state, we must think of an appropriate response, but for the time being, I think it best to overlook the queen’s actions.”

Shuou’s heart leapt at Gwen’s words. Anxiety surged through him, a heavy weight placed upon his stomach. Unable to control himself, he shouted at Gwen, his expression a mask of desperation.

“Wait! Do you mean to abandon my comrades?”

“Do you understand to whom you’re speaking, you—”

Serpentia half rose to shout at Shuou, but Gwen held him back.

“This might be hard to grasp for one who has been a Squire for so short a time,” said Gwen, “but tensions have long since existed between Murakumo and the nations to our north and south. In particular, skirmishes with the southern side have been increasing over the past few years. If we sanction Aventurine under these circumstances, enemy countries will see us as having shaky footing, incentivizing those who wish to open hostilities.”

In response to the unfailingly composed Gwen, Shuou levied a strong rebuttal. “You can fight! Isn’t Murakumo a powerful country?”

Before Shuou’s glare, Gwen’s gaze intensified.

“If we fight, many of our citizens will lose their lives,” he said. “War will exhaust our money reverses and consume our food stores. Murakumo faces more than one enemy at our borders. If the south attacks, the north could interpret this as a good opportunity, moving at the same time. Voluntarily starting a war when victory isn’t assured is an act befitting fools. Starting from the beginning of this affair, I will suppress all discussion related to Aventurine. Our Squires invaded a foreign country without permission, fell into a trap, and were imprisoned. Knowing all that, we decided not to pursue sanctions against Aventurine. That will be the story.”

“You’re going to pretend nothing ever happened?” asked Shuou.

“I am.”

Shuou couldn’t sense a single fluctuation in emotion from Gwen. In response to his detached attitude, Shuou began to feel annoyed.

“You’re telling me to abandon my two imprisoned comrades?” he asked. “Because they’re commoners with Dunstones?”

“The color of one’s stone is of no concern to me. I fear for the continued security of the many citizens who support this country. Everything has an order of precedence. I regret that two Murakumo citizens will perish due to Queen Faye’s impulsiveness, but acting to save them would cause great detriment to our national interest. That is my judgement.”

“Then…”

“You’ve asked several questions of me, but what did you hope to accomplish by coming here?”

Gwen’s sudden question caused Shuou to shrink back. “What did I hope to accomplish? I wanted you to save my comrades…”

“As I’ve already said, I have no intention of doing so. Though I can’t save the lives of your imprisoned comrades, I can guarantee your safety. Normally, I would have you kept under supervised house arrest for the time being. But in exchange for keeping quiet about the details of this affair, I’ll provide you with housing, a job in the capital, and enough money to support your daily life. If you would like to leave the military and begin a new career, I’ll consider providing you with the startup money needed to do so.”

This sort of treatment was unbelievable for someone of Shuou’s station. Based on Gwen’s statements, he could use imprisonment to silence him, as the baron had done at Winter Fortress. Perhaps his relationship with Duchess Adulelia could explain these incredible conditions being offered to him.

You should accept this proposal, repeated the voice inside his head over and over again.

He could forget everything and start afresh in a new land. He wouldn’t have to worry about money or where to live. He could sever all ties with the dreary Winter Fortress. Feeling a heaviness inside his gut, he placed a hand to his abdomen. His stomach growled so quietly that only he could hear the sound. A better, safer future lay within arm’s reach.

Shuou breathed out a self-derisive laugh.

I can’t take this offer.

Twisting his neck ever so slightly, he found Amue and Kazahina peering at him with anxious gazes.

Finding his resolve, Shuou looked Gwen in the eye. “I refuse.”

For the first time, Gwen furrowed his brow, wearing an inscrutable expression. “Why? You won’t find an offer better than mine. Not long has passed since your assignment to Winter Fortress. Your love for your imprisoned comrades can’t run that deep. Even so, you feel reluctant to abandon them?”

Shuou stared at Gwen, his gaze unwavering. “Nothing tastes good anymore.”

That single statement was foolish enough to blow away the tense atmosphere. Everyone in the room stared at Shuou in bewilderment.

“What are you—” Gwen started to ask.

“Since my comrades were imprisoned…” Shuou cut him off. “Since I was burdened with their lives, everything has tasted like dirt. No matter what I drink, my thirst is never quenched. I would hate to live like this forever. So please, lend me your strength to rescue them. If you still refuse, I’ll return to Aventurine by myself.”

“Ha!”

His eyes losing their intensity, Gwen let out a small laugh. For less than a heartbeat, his expression had softened. Stunned, both duke and duchess stared at him.

“You want me to change my mind because you’ve lost your appetite?” he asked.

Shuou nodded without hesitation.

Gwen looked over to Amue. If Shuou wasn’t mistaken, the duchess offered her superior a slight nod.

“Paper,” said Gwen.

“Lord Gwen, you can’t possibly…” Serpentia trailed off in a voice of dissatisfaction.

Gwen continued writing in a practiced hand. “In exchange for releasing the imprisoned Squires and keeping this matter a secret, I will grant Aventurine an extension on the delayed transfer of food. Accordingly, to prevent burdening the taxpayers, I will allow to the queen to pay us in installments.”

“Huh…?”

Seeing Gwen’s rapid change in attitude, Shuou lost the ability to speak.

“However, to prevent this matter from becoming overblown, I won’t send an envoy,” Gwen continued. “Only the person who received permission from Queen Aventurine to return to Sand Castle will be allowed to deliver this letter.”

In other words, as the person who’d been ordered to return with an answer, Shuou had to complete this mission alone.

Naturally, he accepted this condition. “I’ll go.”

“Furthermore,” said Gwen, “for your crimes of crossing the border without permission and taking a defiant stance towards Murakumo’s supreme commander, you are hereby removed from duty at Winter Fortress and ordered under house arrest for the time being. Upon taking this letter, you will be regarded as having agreed to these terms.”

Finished speaking, Gwen held out a thin letter folded three times. Intending to take it, Shuou moved forward one step at a time. Receiving punishment despite having done nothing wrong left him dissatisfied, but it was a small price to pay for being able to save Hinokaji and Miyahi.

“I’ll see this delivered,” said Shuou, taking the letter from Gwen.

“Hold on.”

Amue stood, checking the contents of the letter Shuou had received.

“Lady Orthoclase, do you find something objectionable?” asked Gwen.

“No, not with the text itself. However, as a written contract addressed to another country, a single piece of paper lacks credibility. With your permission, I would like to add a few lines as the head of house Adulelia.”

“…You have my permission.”

After receiving Gwen’s approval, Amue nodded. “I have on more suggestion.”

“I’m listening.”

“Following this Squire’s return, I would like to keep him under house arrest as a guest of Adulelia.”

“Lord Gwen ordered his house arrest as a punishment,” said Serpentia, showing a strong reaction to this proposal. “To take responsibility for his actions, he should serve his sentence in a dungeon.”

“That would be pointless,” said Amue. “Rather than imprisoning a young man in the prime of his life within such cramped quarters, having him do odd jobs in my domain would be far more useful.”

“I didn’t realize House Adulelia was so destitute that you were in need of someone to perform odd jobs,” said Serpentia. “What’s your true objective?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem rather taken with this Squire. Even within Serpentia territory, I’ve heard rumors of House Adulelia eagerly gathering talented people as of late. Just recently, you poached an entire family of talented blacksmiths from the capital, did you not?”

Her eyes as cold as ice, Amue glared at Serpentia. “It’s easy to mine good quality ore within Adulelia, and the price of land is cheaper than in the capital. That’s all. Yes, I do have ties to this Squire, but your unfounded accusations that I’m deliberately gathering capable people to my side are most unpleasant.”

As the duke and duchess’s breathing grew heavier, Gwen spoke in a solitary, composed voice. “I accept Lady Orthoclase’s proposal. Until the Squire’s next assignment is decided, I will leave him in the care of Adulelia.”

Straightening, Amue expressed her gratitude. “Thank you. Additionally, we should provide suitable punishment for Corrin Tar, the supervisor of Winter Fortress and the original cause of this incident. If I may receive even your unofficial permission, the Solid Left Army will take care of everything.”

“…It is in your hands.”

Upon receiving Gwen’s personal letter, Shuou was ordered to leave the room. Moments before his exit, Gwen called for him to stop.

“Squire, throughout life, many things will befall you that worsen the taste of food. Never forget that.”

Finishing his remonstration, Gwen waved Shuou off. Giving a final, small bow, Shuou closed the door to the council room.

Original text: https://ncode.syosetu.com/n4006r/12/