I knocked twice on the door to the Second Prince’s private chambers. Even for a member of the Royal Guard like myself, entering this room was a nerve-wracking ordeal.
“His Highness Burkhard.”
“Lothar, is it? You may enter.”
His Highness was in the middle of his correspondence. He set his quill aside and looked up. He had golden hair, blue eyes, and a face with delicate, refined features. Behind the charming facade that made him so popular in social circles, his gaze was sharp and calculating.
“I have come to report on the situation in the borderlands.”
“Speak.”
“First, regarding the eldest daughter of House Ahrens. It appears Lady Clarissa has completed her convalescence and has begun appearing in society once more.”
“And who healed her?”
“The Church’s Saint reportedly performed a second round of treatment. The process she previously abandoned because she couldn't endure the excruciating pain was apparently seen through to completion this time.”
“Meddling for nothing... No matter. There is no value in what I cannot possess,” he said, his voice entirely devoid of warmth. I couldn't tell if his displeasure stemmed from failing to expand his faction’s influence or if he simply begrudged the recovery of someone who had rejected him. However, showing no further interest in the matter, he prompted me for the next update.
“You said that was the first point. What else?”
“The second point concerns the Marquisate of Ahrens. New cases of the poison have all but ceased. Now that the cause has been identified, inspections at the gates of the surrounding towns have grown significantly stricter.”
“That is within expectations. How are they handling things on their end?”
“Grain is handled in such massive quantities that they cannot inspect every single bag. It seems they intend to continue by having the guards we’ve bribed handle the checkpoints—passing the goods through the gates to the merchants we’ve coordinated with.”
“It looks like the plan will hold a little longer, then. What of the border?”
“Regarding the plan to financially bind the Equilibrium Faction of Seltheim and use them as disposable pawns, they claim it will take a bit more time.”
“But the cornering of the grain market is proceeding, I assume?”
“Of course. The price of grain in the city is rising visibly.”
“And you’re certain they plan to invade before the grain spoils?”
“Yes. I have emphasized that point repeatedly; there should be no issue.”
“Make sure to verify the scale and timing thoroughly. It would serve no purpose if the borderlands defeated the enemy on their own before I could intervene, or if I were to be defeated myself. The ideal scenario is for me to arrive with relief forces just as the borderlands are paralyzed by a lack of logistics. I will handle the political maneuvering for the aftermath. I’ll see to it that my older brother is dragged down.”
The First Prince, His Highness Arnulf, was not a bad man. He simply lacked the ability to decide anything for himself, always being swept away by the opinions of his faction. We in the Second Prince Faction believed that a king must excel as a ruler, not just as a human being. At least, that was our public stance.
Those who are easily swayed by others will likely be just as easily swept away to their deaths.
“There is one more matter, Your Highness. The death toll is lower than anticipated. Apparently, a Saint-in-training known as the ‘White Angel’ has saved many of those afflicted by the poison. She is traveling from town to town, though her actual name remains unknown.”
“The White Angel? I’ve never heard of her.”
“She is reportedly an exceptionally gifted user of Recovery Magic, capable of detoxifying hundreds of people in a single day. Rumor has it she is a girl of striking beauty.”
“The Church was certainly hiding an interesting talent.”
“I hear the commoners are thronging the streets, some even kneeling in prayer as she passes. Donations to the Church are also reportedly increasing significantly. Information suggests she has already departed for the second town—”
“That is problematic. It threatens to derail the plan.”
His tone didn't change. His expression remained a mask. Only the atmosphere in the room shifted, turning cold enough to send a bead of sweat trickling down my back.
“Shall we take care of her?”
“Let me see...”
His Highness pondered the suggestion for a moment before dismissing it.
“No, she seems more useful than the ‘Saint’s abilities.’ Especially on a battlefield. If her name is unknown, she must be a commoner, right? It would be better to draw her into our camp—perhaps as someone's concubine—and keep her as insurance.”
“However, I have heard she is quite young...”
“On the contrary, there are plenty of men who prefer that sort of thing. And she’s a beauty, isn't she? There will be no shortage of men eager to take her as a concubine.”
“Understood. I shall select a candidate and approach the Church.”
“No, Lothar. I will handle the negotiations with the Church from this end. I want you to head to the borderlands and assist our efforts there. We must repair the damage this ‘White Angel’ has done to the plan as much as possible.”
“Understood.”
“Honestly... what a tiresome business. To be forced into such hardships simply because I was born a few years later.”
“I sympathize with your burden, Your Highness.”
“Well then, I’m counting on you.”
His Highness had already picked up his quill again—the signal that our conversation was over. I bowed and quietly closed the door behind me.
It was a grim fate for the provincial nobility, but they were destined to be the stepping stones Burkhard needed to reach the throne. I set to work on the preparations.