TYND 19

Chapter 19

The deliberation was brief. Walter, who had been staring vaguely into empty space, slowly shook his head.

“Even without a chance of victory, it is the commander’s role to create a battlefield where we can win. You needn’t worry about that. However… I believe conciliating him rather than confronting him would be the more reasonable choice.”

“I’m worried because there’s no one who can unite the lords.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“Hmm…”

Lucy twisted her moderately dry hair into a coil and tied it up with the worn ribbon she had taken from her pocket. Unlike the worried Walter, she seemed completely unfazed.

“We’re not out of time yet. Let’s not worry too much and observe the lords’ reactions at tomorrow’s meeting before deciding. For now, though—”

“Yes?”

“Should we eat first?”

At her earnest plea, Walter realized he had been making a grave mistake and hurried his steps in a panic.

The clicking of heels shattered the silence of the corridor.

Her jeweled mule sandals contrasted starkly with her plain dress. The Marchioness of Rutherford, who normally preferred loose, casual attire, had no choice but to dress formally given the current situation.

The commotion from yesterday had vanished, and the headquarters was deathly quiet. All the nobles had sealed their lips, their faces somber.

Approaching the meeting room, the Marchioness of Rutherford slowed and glanced around. She knew they were tense, but this quiet was excessive, she thought.

“Everyone looks grim. It’s precisely in times like this that one must act with composure.”

Duke Wheaton dismissed his attendants and spoke to her.

His attire remained neat and elegant, but the slight furrow in his brow revealed his own tension. Still, he was not the sort to speak simply to relieve nerves, especially not to someone like Rutherford, who was no different from the silence itself.

The probing look in his eyes proved as much. Rutherford covered her own assessing gaze with a gentle smile.

“After yesterday’s commotion, I suppose everyone is cautious. I have no idea what the mood of the meeting will be today.”

“Whether one chooses Duke Kil or that woman, blood will be spilled either way. It is worrying. Which side does the Marchioness find herself leaning toward?”

At the direct question, Rutherford raised the corner of her lip in a vague smile.

“Well… since we don’t know what hidden strength the woman who accompanied the Grand General possesses, I believe it’s premature to choose now.”

She stepped into the meeting room, smoothly finishing her reply, and took her seat. The duke, entering after her, shot her a wry glance before sitting gracefully opposite her.

Unlike yesterday, when the room had been packed, empty seats were scattered today. The Marchioness of Rutherford surveyed the room and smirked when she noticed what the vacant seats had in common. The other lords seemed to notice as well, exchanging troubled glances.

Ten minutes later, the figure who had thrown the meeting room into chaos entered, accompanied by a faint but palpable excitement.

“Lady Arsinoe has arrived.”

Should they rise? Or not?

Rutherford struggled for a moment—but once she saw Walter standing upright behind the woman, her hesitation ended.

Even if one disregarded the woman, showing respect to the Grand General was wise.

The Marchioness rose, followed by Duke Wheaton and the other lords, each bowing their heads quietly.

“It is good to see you again.”

Lucy acknowledged their greeting with a light glance and took her seat.

Clad in a wine-colored dress, she exuded a far more authoritative and mature air than she had yesterday—whether from the outfit or her chilly expression, nobody could tell.

“As expected, it seems the lord of Twin Mountains refuses to recognize my claim to the throne.”

Seated at the head of the table, Lucy tapped the armrest lightly and spoke in a cheerful tone.

The Lord of Twin Mountains.

It was the title given to the owner of Duke Kil’s estate. The empty seats also belonged to nobles with strong ties to Kil. Lucy looked toward the vacant chairs and continued:

“As stated yesterday—those who have left will be deemed traitors and punished accordingly. Those who remain, I shall regard as loyal subjects who support me. If any object to this, speak now.”

“I have something to ask.”

Rutherford calmly raised her hand. Amid the surprised stares, Lucy quietly nodded.

“What is it, Marchioness Rutherford?”

“We only met Your Majesty yesterday. While Your Majesty may know us, we do not know who Your Majesty truly is. Even arranged marriages allow three meetings to get acquainted. I wish to know— is it right to pledge loyalty under such circumstances?”

Her blunt, opportunistic remark made Duke Wheaton click his tongue in disbelief. Lucy, however, curled her lips in interest.

To nobles unfamiliar with Lucy, this was the perfect chance to evaluate her—and for Lucy, a chance to naturally explain herself.

With a friendly smile, she began:

“I trust most of you know of my parentage. Until the age of twelve, I lived in a separate palace. Thinking it might benefit the kingdom, I later enrolled in the Royal Military Academy, and after graduating, I stayed for a time in Pomnos.”

Rutherford’s eyes lit up at the mention of the academy.

She had been curious how Lucy and Walter met—so it was the academy. The academy! She was reminded of the child from the marquisate she sponsored.

They were about the same age and both academy graduates. Could Lucy perhaps have been a schoolmate of the child?

“Pomnos is the city of Lapis, is it not? May I ask why Your Majesty went so far away?”

The rumor that the late king’s mistress and her daughter had fled was well known, but how they ended up in Pomnos was a mystery.

Lucy answered with a wry smile.

“It shames me to say this, but the late king’s affection for my mother was… excessive. To escape the reach of the kingdom’s army, fleeing to another nation was the most practical choice. I never imagined I would return to Parnassus… but the Grand General begged me, and I could not refuse.”

The regretful murmur on Lucy’s face held not even a speck of greed for the throne. Rutherford’s gaze softened.

Indeed, she was barely past adulthood.

She had not only missed education befitting a royal heir—she wasn’t even treated properly as royalty. Her mother had been quietly oppressed by the royal family.

A young lady untouched by the filth of the world went so far as to become a soldier for her country, only to flee the royal family for her mother’s sake… and now she had been dragged back purely because there was no other heir.

Perhaps the authoritative behavior she’d shown yesterday was nothing more than desperation from someone with no one to protect her.

Even now, the way she tried so hard to look regal—despite it not suiting her—reminded Rutherford of her eldest daughter, bedridden and frail.

“How fares Your Majesty’s mother?”

Someone at the far end of the table asked. Lucy kept her gentle smile as she replied.

“My mother still resides in Pomnos. She cares for the Lapis children.”

“And why did Your Majesty return alone?”

“I begged her to come with me, but she feared her presence would cause suspicion—that she would appear as a corrupting influence. She refused to return. In hindsight, I believe it was a wise decision.”

The noble who had asked the question shut his mouth awkwardly.

Old speculation—that the late king’s low-born mistress might use her daughter to control the kingdom—was swept away like dust.

“With such a lacking body, I am ashamed to stand here. Had the crown prince still been alive, how wonderful it would have been. Still, as one born of the same bloodline, I shall strive to act and think as one befitting the throne.”

Her humble conclusion wiped the chill from every noble’s gaze. What remained was pity for the young girl forced to bear a weight far too heavy.

“Does this answer your question, Marchioness Rutherford?”

“It more than suffices, Your Majesty.”

“Then let us end the talk about me and proceed to the main matter.”

Lucy tilted her chin toward the table, and Walter stepped toward the door, giving instructions to the soldiers outside.