Ginter nodded. “The intelligence we have received is almost identical to what you already know. I can’t go into detail, but we have information that high-ranking officials of the collaborationist faction have been ousted and that some personnel changes, especially in the military, have taken place. Whether this is a sign of domestic conflict or all-out war is yet to be seen. What’s certain is that something is coming.”
August took a deep breath, recalling the events of twelve years prior. The thought of that dark presence casting its shadow over Brungwurt once more was chilling.
“But Zwelf does not currently have the strength to wage war against us—or any other country, for that matter.”
After the failed invasion of Zweilink, Zwelf’s position had deteriorated dramatically. Fanoren, who until then had taken a defensive stance, made a complete turnaround and launched a fierce counteroffensive after the victory at Zweilink.
When it became clear that the war was lost, Zwelf dispatched a messenger to Fanoren to propose a cease-fire.
The Royal Army initially refused to sign the cease-fire agreement. However, the situation in Fanoren was hardly good, due to the cold wave that had befallen the continent. The royal court managed to persuade the vengeance-driven Royal Army to accept Zwelf’s offer on the condition that Zwelf fully accept Fanoren’s demands.
Fanoren proposed three conditions for the truce. First, the king, the crown prince, and the military leaders who started the war would be held accountable. Second, in exchange for allowing the then-six-year-old son of the second prince to be installed as king, a moderate civil official who would cooperate with other countries would be appointed acting regent. The last condition was that reparations be paid for twenty years.
In exchange for Zwelf’s acceptance of these cease-fire conditions, Fanoren decided to provide aid to Zwelf for the three following years in the form of food, as the cold spell and the war had depleted the nation’s treasury. This was a humanitarian decision to help the people of Zwelf, who were starving and exhausted from the war and the cold, while holding the royal family and the military accountable for the war.
“The king who ascended the throne back then will be…coming of age this year, won’t he?”
“Yes. And the acting regent will become the chancellor.”
“The king has been educated by the moderates, and I hear that he has grown up to be a man of good character, maintaining cooperation with other countries. The regent is still in good health and is in control of the country, is he not?”
“Yes. And the moderate general in the Zwelf army remains the same…except for one of the top officers who passed away suddenly and has been replaced by a man we have, until now, not kept in our sights. I believe his name was Zberav…”
Brandt, who had been silently listening to their conversation until then, opened his mouth. “And how is the disinherited crown prince, Vandarren, faring?”
Ginter shook his head. “I’ve received reports that he remains imprisoned… What about it?”
“My cousin is married to a member of the family of the crown princess of Zwelf. Remember how that was an issue in court near the end of the war? My cousin got divorced after the war and moved back to Fanoren.”
Ginter nodded. “Yes, I remember it well. That’s why you were under suspicion, too.”
“Right. That’s why I thoroughly investigated the crown prince and his surroundings. The crown princess is the daughter of the Duke of Khachanov. And the crown princess’s mother, the Duchess of Khachanov, was a member of the Marquis of Sabine’s family. But she is not the biological daughter of the marquis—she was adopted by him.”
“…What are you implying, Lucas?” August demanded to hear his conclusions.
“The Duchess of Khachanov’s surname before she was adopted by the Marquis of Sabine was Zberav. The man is likely related to the crown princess.”
The three men looked at one another. There was a suspicious connection between the disinherited crown prince and the man who had newly risen to military prominence.
“…Vandarren wants to stage a coup d’état.”
The dignitaries attending the memorial service slowly began to arrive in Brungwurt.
August and his men had made their way into the crown prince’s room.
The crown prince, Kyle, was twenty-two years old. He was a young man with curly black hair, blue eyes, a noble face, and a large build. While he may have appeared fierce, he was in fact a calm and intelligent man, and was already recognized as the next king.
“I see. And what of the disinherited prince’s supporters? You suspect a possibility that they are secretly plotting a coup d’état through the prince’s wife’s mother’s adoptive family and her family of birth. Hey, Ginter. If they did stage a coup, how does that affect our country?”
“Zwelf does not have the strength to go to war with other countries at the moment. In that respect, even if a coup were to take place, the immediate damage to us would be minimal.”
“I wouldn’t want the lives of our people to be affected,” Kyle muttered in annoyance.
“Since that war, we have stopped relying on trade with Zwelf for vital necessities, so the people should remain undisturbed. Please rest assured.”
“I see. In that case, would there be any point to our intervention?” Kyle asked Ginter.
Ginter placed his chin on his fist in contemplation. “I would love to say no…but the crown prince is an extremely greedy man. If he were to usurp the throne, he might go to war for the wealth of the neighboring countries.”
“His becoming king is a violation of the cease-fire agreement. You should demand some kind of response immediately, Chancellor,” remarked the Marquis of Lagarea who was secretary of the Interior.
Ginter shook his head. “No, nothing has happened yet. We are only speculating. If anything, it would be better to avoid diplomatic channels and inform the moderate chancellor in secret. We can’t be sure who’s working with the faction of the crown prince.”
Brandt nodded. “Ceasing iron trade would be a shortsighted plan. If we follow the line, we might find something at the end of it.”
Kyle chuckled. “I suppose the struggle for the throne looks the same everywhere.”
The Marquis of Lagarea was about to admonish him, but Kyle laughed him off.
“Ginter, report to my uncle. I must admit that I won’t be able to deal with this on my own. Only my uncle will be able to handle this. Marquis of Lagarea, you will report to His Majesty.”
They all nodded in approval.
“All right, that’s that for the formalities. Things are grim enough before the memorial service as they are.” Kyle raised his voice to dispel the heavy air. “I mean, August! Where is he? Why have you kept something like that from us for so long?”
August scowled at that. “What do you mean by ‘something like that’?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean. Your son with the extraordinary face. I’m starting to doubt he’s really human.”