“My bloodline would end with me,” Sir Polidoro explained. “My citizens and my land should be passed down through the generations to my descendants. I fear death as I currently do not have any heir. There would be no one left of House Polidoro.”
“So, you’re saying that if you have someone to continue your blood—a child—you no longer fear death?” I asked.
“You’re correct, Your Majesty.”
He sounded like the perfect feudal lord. I could logically understand his reasoning.
“Then you have no intention of bowing to Villendorf even if we set foot within your fief, I presume?” I asked.
“That won’t be all, Your Majesty,” he replied. “Should you displace even an inch of my fief’s soil or take even a step on my land, I shall offer not even an iota of mercy.”
“Is that so…”
I tried to tackle this situation from a different angle. Faust von Polidoro was a lord knight and a hero of Anhalt, but he was focused on his own interests. Perhaps it’s rude of me to say so. It’s only natural that a feudal lord will die for their fief and citizens. These are assets to the lords. Judging from our conversation so far, I’m quite sure that Sir Polidoro isn’t lying either. I contemplated another possible approach. In other words, will he not see us as an enemy if we don’t step into his fief? I theorized about Sir Polidoro’s future military service. I presumed that if we didn’t cross the border, he’d be sent to the north to take care of the northern nomads for his next conscription. When that ended, all that would remain would be Anhalt’s promise to protect his land. The kingdom had a duty to uphold their end of the bargain.
Since Sir Polidoro would’ve finished his military service for the year, he wouldn’t appear on the front lines of the battlefield between my kingdom and Anhalt’s border. I could utilize that opening to take over most of Anhalt while leaving the Polidoro fief be. No… I once again reconsidered my options.
“Sir Polidoro,” I said. “Let me ask about your next conscription, which I understand will be the following year. Will you be sent to handle the nomads of the north?”
“Should we form a peace treaty, I presume as much,” Sir Polidoro answered.
“And are you confident that you can win against them?”
He huffed proudly. Of course he is. It was a silly question to ask.
“A single clash is all I need to annihilate a tribe,” Sir Polidoro said. “I shall decimate them as Lord Reckenbell, the hero of Villendorf, once did.”
I see… If so, Anhalt’s main army would return from the north to defend the border with my kingdom, making their forces equal in size to mine. Even if I threw everything I had at Anhalt, I was unsure if I could eke out a victory. I was in a deadlock.
Anhalt’s hero, Faust von Polidoro, would refuse to surrender unless I besieged his fief. But if I took too much time, he’d go off to tackle the northern nomads. The words “peace treaty” flashed across my mind for a split second. But I’m not done just yet. Sir Polidoro, I’m an emotionless woman. I struggle to understand certain concepts, but whenever I asked, my father would beat me and call me annoying. Only Reckenbell had never raised her hand to me. She patiently taught me everything I asked about; if emotions didn’t work, she provided me with a logical explanation. Over and over again, as though to remind me, she’d tell me what to do and what not to do. She was the only person who was willing to teach me; she was the one who allowed me to be queen purely based on logic. I killed my older sister and father because Reckenbell told me that I should. My relationship with her wasn’t all sunshine and roses.
I’ll pursue logic until the very end. I’ll utilize any opening that Anhalt has and have you obey my orders so that I can take more land from Anhalt.
“Queen Catalina, forgive me,” Sir Polidoro said. “I was so engrossed in this conversation that I forgot to provide you with a gift that I’ve brought along.”
“A gift?” I asked.
I suppose this comes as no surprise. Two kingdoms are trying to negotiate, so an offering would be a decent way to earn favor. A little girl kneeled beside him, carefully holding something wrapped in cloth. If my information is correct, this girl is Martina von Bosel… This girl was the only daughter of a traitor lord knight who’d lost a duel. Anhalt’s hero had rubbed his face on the ground and beseeched his queen to spare the girl’s life.
His steadfast attitude and his willingness to cast aside his dignity and honor to overturn a royal order won him high praise from Villendorf’s citizens. They called him beautiful. Needless to say, a coldhearted queen like myself couldn’t possibly understand his actions.
“Here it is,” Sir Polidoro said.
Martina stepped toward me, gingerly cradling the cloth bundle. My royal knights nearby were on alert, but there was no need to be so vigilant against a nine-year-old child. I was armed with a blade, and even if there was a dagger underneath the cloth, it would take little effort for me to stab her.
“Stand back,” I ordered.
I shooed away a royal knight who tried to examine the item underneath the cloth. All the while, Martina quietly walked forward. When she finally stood right in front of me, she removed the cloth and revealed the gift.
“What…” I started.
“A bouquet of roses,” Sir Polidoro said.
An inflorescence of crimson petals appeared before my eyes. They looked fresh and vibrant as though they’d just been cut. A bouquet of flowers was far too modest of a gift for a queen. Flowers held no special meaning in Anhalt or Villendorf; at most, a woman would provide a bouquet to a man when proposing to him. It wasn’t very exciting to receive this gift from a man.
“I heard a very peculiar tale from a Villendorfian minstrel,” Sir Polidoro started.
“Oh?” I asked.
I took the flowers from Martina. No matter how plain or modest, I had to accept a gift from an envoy. A peculiar tale? What would that be?
“Faust!” Princess Valiele cried. Her scolding tone interrupted my thoughts. “Th-those flowers! You didn’t take them from the rose garden of Anhalt’s royal palace, did you?!”
“I did. I stole them,” Sir Polidoro replied.
“You what?! Don’t admit to something like that so nonchalantly!”
Princess Valiele turned pale. She seemed to have completely forgotten that she was in my throne room as she raised her voice.
“Father planted that rose garden and those flowers with his own hands!” she shrieked. “You know that Mother treasures those roses to no end! You even praised their beauty! Why would you cut them off?!”
“Yes, that’s why I thought they’d have value,” Sir Polidoro replied.
“I mean, sure, but you can’t just steal them away without telling anyone! You know that stealing is bad, don’t you?! What excuse can we possibly give to Mother?!”
Ah, so these roses were grown with care by Queen Liesenlotte’s prince consort. I’ve heard rumors that he was poisoned. And Sir Polidoro stole them? I couldn’t understand how this was a suitable gift for me. Wait… This happened once before. Just once, I remember doing something similar.
Think back, Ina-Catalina Maria Villendorf. This was a precious childhood memory that I had with Reckenbell.
“What’re you going to do?!” Princess Valiele screamed. “Mother’s probably searching for whoever stole her roses so she can kill the culprit! How in the world can we apologize to her?!”
“Martina told me that you’d apologize with me,” Sir Polidoro replied.
“I will! I told her as much, but I wouldn’t have imagined that this is what you did!”
Shut up. You’re so annoying. I’m trying to recall my memories with Reckenbell; don’t distract me. I closed my eyes in an attempt to forcefully block out my hearing as I quietly did my best to recall that precious childhood memory.