The day after the semifinals concluded.
The Military Tournament entered a rest period, with no matches scheduled for today or tomorrow. The championship bout would take place the day after tomorrow. Even so, the festival in the royal capital remained as bustling as ever.
In her office at the royal palace, Alecia had been reviewing reports on the Founding Festival and the Military Tournament since early morning. Just because a festival was underway did not mean a monarch's workload decreased. As crowds gathered, security requirements increased, and the movements of each noble house were dutifully reported. Stacks of parchment had been piling up on her desk since dawn.
Among them was a single document summarizing yesterday's semifinals.
House Eldran: Advanced to the Finals.
House Razgrim: Defeated House Perkin and Advanced to the Finals.
Alecia stared at the two house names for a long moment.
"I expected it, but... it really did come down to these two, didn't it?"
Better than anyone, she knew how formidable House Eldran was. It was an army forged by Galvas over decades, and they were the reigning champions. They were not an opponent one could simply shatter in a frontal clash.
Yet the Razgrim army had exceeded expectations time and again to reach this stage. Soldiers who had initially looked like a ragtag militia had unified their movements with every match, and yesterday they had even brought down the previous year's runner-up, House Perkin.
It was not just Raisa, either... The report also noted that Lydia, entrusted with overall command midway through, had maneuvered the troops without hesitation the instant the enemy's chain of command fractured.
Which of them would prevail...?
No matter how much she pondered it, Alecia could not tell.
"This is troublesome..."
From a monarch's perspective, there was no better matchup for the finals. Whichever side won, the Founding Festival would reach a fever pitch of excitement.
However, her personal feelings were not quite so simple. Galvas had supported her ever since the Royal Selection. Frankly, she had no desire to watch the Eldran banner, defended by the old man for so many years, taste defeat.
...On the other hand, now that Vain's soldiers had come this far, she wanted them to go all the way and win.
"Hoping for both to win is completely impossible, though..."
A wry smile escaped her lips at the words she muttered under her breath. She had intended to look at both house names with equal detachment, yet before she realized it, her fingertips had settled near the name of Razgrim. Noticing this, Alecia picked up the next report as if nothing had happened.
At that moment, the attending chamberlain hesitated briefly before speaking.
"Your Majesty... there is one more matter regarding yesterday's semifinals."
"What is it? Did something happen?"
"It appears Lord Regnard was also in attendance."
Alecia's hand froze.
"...My brother was?"
Ever since the Royal Selection had concluded, Regnard had personally refrained from overt political activity. He was not confined to his estate, nor was he forbidden from stepping outside.
However, gathering nobles from the former First Prince faction as he used to would invite needless speculation, so he had kept his distance from public gatherings.
Of course, the Founding Festival was currently underway. If the First Prince failed to make a single appearance at such a celebratory occasion, it risked giving the impression that the royal family was fractured... Therefore, after consulting with her father, she had permitted him to attend a select few events strictly for the duration of the festival.
Even so, she had never imagined her brother would choose the Military Tournament.
"Was he with Father?"
"Yes... in the royal family's private box alongside the Former King. Without summoning any other nobles, he reportedly returned straight home as soon as the match concluded."
"...I see."
Her brother had watched all the way through to the moment Vain's army defeated House Perkin.
Just what had been going through his mind...?
Alecia felt a faint twinge of curiosity.
◇
Winding the clock back a little, to just before yesterday's semifinals began—
In the royal family's private box at the Grand Drill Grounds, Former King Alvert and Regnard sat side by side. Seated at a remove from the general nobility, Regnard had not summoned a single ally from the former First Prince faction, watching the arena alone with his father.
"I never expected you to say you wanted to see the Military Tournament."
When Alvert remarked on it, Regnard offered his usual gentle smile.
"I was granted permission to show my face during the Founding Festival, after all. In that case, seeing for myself which houses hold sway in the kingdom today is hardly a bad idea, is it?"
"Still as stubborn as ever... You could simply admit that you are curious about Duke Razgrim and leave it at that."
"Far from it! I despise the man."
The reply came so swiftly that Alvert glanced sideways at his son.
"You certainly don't mince words, do you? In the Royal Selection, he aided Alecia, rebuilt his domain, and even trained an army to this standard. Besides, you lost to him as well... You acknowledge his ability itself, don't you?"
"Yes. I acknowledge that he is capable. Whether I like him or not is another matter entirely."
At that, Alvert let out a quiet chuckle, as if recalling an old memory.
"Haah... Ever since Estelle married into the Empire, you have grown even harsher toward any man who approaches your sister, haven't you?"
Regnard's smile faded ever so slightly.
"I must ask that you not conflate this with Estelle's case! I warned her repeatedly. That Imperial prince was plagued by far too many foul rumors, and I told her to observe him longer before deciding... Yet she refused to listen. Claiming it was love at first sight, and that she could live freely by his side... She abandoned her homeland for nothing more than that!"
"She was always that sort of girl, though... Sneaking out of the castle just to gallivant around town."
"She turned out that way because you laughed and indulged her, Father!"
"Do not pin that on me!"
Alvert chuckled, but Regnard remained utterly unamused.
"And now Alecia has taken a fancy to Duke Razgrim, who was once surrounded by nothing but scandalous rumors... Is that why you are so displeased?"
"...I am not judging the man solely on past rumors. I am well aware that at the very least, he is not the scoundrel the stories made him out to be."
"Then there should be no issue. Besides, it was Alecia who brought up marriage in the first place. Razgrim even turned her down, did he not?"
"That makes me dislike him all the more!"
—Once again, the reply was instantaneous.
Alvert stared at his son's profile for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.
"You hate the thought of your sister being taken away... yet you also hate the man who rejects her when she pursues him. You truly are an infuriatingly troublesome brother..."
"Is it not natural for an elder brother to remain vigilant so that Alecia does not choose some dreadful man?"
"Then you should just say so to her face... You have been hopelessly awkward since you were a boy."
Regnard kept his gaze fixed on the arena.
"It was the same during the Royal Selection! If you thought Alecia was too green to rule, there were better ways to handle it, were there not? Going out of your way to act like a villain just to invite resentment... There are times even I cannot tell whether you are being kind or spiteful. You are twisted, my boy."
"I genuinely believed that I was better suited to be king. I will not deny that even now. That is why I fought, and that is why I lost... I accept the outcome."
His tone remained entirely composed.
"If Alecia fails as a monarch, that will be her own responsibility. Now that she has taken the throne, it would be pathetic if she could not stand without her brother shielding her."
"For someone who speaks so coldly, I hear you are still keeping close tabs on the former First Prince faction's movements, are you not?"
For a fraction of a second, Regnard narrowed his eyes.
"...Because there is no guarantee someone will not use my name without my knowledge to stage some foolish stunt."
"See? That is precisely what I mean."
Alvert snorted.
"You tell your sister that if she falls, she must pick herself up, yet you keep watch for anyone trying to sweep her legs out from behind. You would do well to just honestly admit you are worried..."
"I am merely preventing an unnecessary stain from falling upon the royal family."
"Yes, yes... Let us go with that, then."
Regnard offered no further rebuttal, simply watching the Razgrim army march into the drill grounds.
After a quiet interlude, he spoke softly.
"...Well, I suppose it is at least worth seeing what the man is truly made of."
"I thought you utterly despised him?"
"Yes! Naturally, I despise him with every fiber of my being."
On that point alone, he did not waver in the slightest.
◇
Returning to the day after the semifinals.
At the Eldran encampment, preparations and tactical reviews for the finals were underway. True to their status as the reigning champions, the soldiers showed no signs of restlessness; they maintained battered gear, allowed the weary to rest, and the commanders reviewed yesterday's maneuvers of the Razgrim army.
Galvas stood a short distance away, observing the scene.
"Your Grace. In the finals, Lady Lydia will likely anticipate our every move."
At his aide's remark, Galvas gave a hearty snort.
"Of course she will! That girl learned the art of war right here in House Eldran, did she not? Formations, command signals, troop movements—she knows them all."
"Should we adjust our deployment, then?"
"No need. We know what she knows just as well. Besides, do you truly believe I would build an army that collapses simply because an opponent knows a weakness or two?"
The aide promptly bowed his head.
That was not what Galvas was paying attention to.
Immediately after Raisa brought down Perkin in the semifinals, Lydia had seized upon the momentary disarray in the enemy's chain of command. She had pushed the right wing forward, refrained from overextending, and thoroughly defended the two bases. Her swift judgment itself came as no surprise. That girl had possessed an innate talent for military strategy since childhood.
What intrigued him was the fact that something foreign had blended into that judgment.
What he had taught her in Eldran was the orthodox doctrine: maintain formations, keep messenger lines unbroken, hold reserves in place, and never sacrifice soldiers wastefully. Onto that foundation, Raisa's pragmatic style was now beginning to take root. Disregarding rigid textbook forms, lunging for the throat the moment an enemy faltered, and reshaping their own battle lines on the fly to secure victory.
"Two months, was it...?"
A mere two months.
When he first sent her to Razgrim, Lydia had not trusted Vain in the slightest. Looking down on a count burdened with nothing but ill repute, she had worn an expression that clearly showed she could not comprehend why her father would place his faith in such a greenhorn.
Now, things were entirely different.
It was not because his noble rank had risen to duke. She had seen the domain, seen the troops, and seen the absolute trust his subordinates held in their eyes when looking at Vain. On top of that, witnessing the young head casually speak his mind even to royalty when necessary, the girl had come to respect him in her own way.
Above all, the current Lydia felt no shame in standing among the Razgrim army. If anything, she looked proud to be one of the commanders leading those three hundred soldiers.
A broad grin stretched across Galvas's face.
"Gwahaha! Leaving her in that greenhorn's care truly was the right call!"
Until two months ago, in a situation like yesterday's, her first instinct would have been to reform the ranks. That was no longer the case. Standing beside Raisa, she had begun absorbing lessons he had never taught her.
"When she returns, she might even berate me instead, demanding, 'Why did you not send me out into the world sooner!'"
After a booming laugh, Galvas turned his gaze toward the drill grounds.
The day after tomorrow, that very daughter would march in to defeat the army he had forged. Naturally, he had no intention of rolling over for her. If he were to pull his punches, Lydia would be more furious than anyone.
That was why he would strike with overwhelming force... And beyond that—
"If she actually manages to overcome my army..."
Galvas let the sentence trail off.
"Your Grace?"
While his aide waited for him to finish, the old duke stroked his beard for a moment before breaking into an amused chuckle.
"I feel bad for my daughter, but I will have no choice but to make her stay at that greenhorn's side even longer."
"Lady Lydia, you mean?"
"Our original agreement was for six months. However, if she can grasp something profound enough there to surpass my own army, calling her back after a mere half year would be a terrible waste. Well, I can work out the details somehow."
"If you break the news to Lady Lydia, she will likely be furious..."
"Most certainly! We will cross that bridge when we come to it!"
Though he laughed boisterously, Galvas's eyes held absolute resolve. If that was what his daughter needed right now, there was no reason to forcibly pull her back under his wing.
"Now then, Lydia."
Picturing the finals the day after tomorrow, Galvas slowly stroked his beard.
"If you claim you can best my army... well, when that time comes, who knows?"
Leaving the rest unsaid, the old duke let out a delighted laugh.