The hastily assembled emperor’s host, partly due to the tenacious efforts of the platoon commanders, managed to make it into the Duchy of Aphoroa by sundown, as scheduled. Our progress definitely could have been a lot worse.
The Duchy of Aphoroa was east of the County of Pildee, where the imperial capital was located, and Chelán Hill—our destination—was located in Aphoroa’s eastern border region. Incidentally, while it was called a duchy, there was no Duke Aphoroa to go along with it. There had been one during the age of the Rotahl Empire, before the Bundarte Empire had come into being, but now the duchy belonged directly to the throne.
Given that, I supposed it wouldn’t be wrong to call me the current Duke Aphoroa. Alongside my positions as the emperor and the count of Pildee, that made me a triple title holder—though a single individual possessing multiple titles wasn’t as rare as you’d think. Generally, the way it worked was that they went by their highest-ranking title, while the others—known as subsidiary titles—took a back seat. In my case, being emperor of the Bundarte Empire meant that I almost never needed to go by my other titles.
Getting back on topic, though, our host, having traveled its scheduled distance, promptly began setting up camp for the night. The word “camp” might conjure certain preconceived mental images, but save for a few exceptions, the soldiers would basically just be sleeping huddled together atop cloth or dry grass they’d spread across the ground. We did technically have enough tents for everyone, but it was the soldiers’ own responsibility to erect them and pack them away, and to fit everyone, they’d have to squeeze in like sardines. Since it was summer, and it didn’t seem likely to rain, it was actually a lot more comfortable sleeping under the stars.
Naturally, we had tents set up for the injured, the platoon commanders, and so on. I had my own too, reserved for the emperor. What’s that? I should stick with my soldiers as a show of solidarity? Uh, would you be able to fall asleep with the emperor next to you?
Anyway, as the soldiers lit campfires and began preparing their dinners, I was watching Timona care for my horse. He’d volunteered himself for the duty, and since it would have been unwise of me to wander off without his protection, I’d remained close by as I waited. I wasn’t just slacking off. Promise.
As I observed the soldiers at work, a rider approached. Looking over, I saw it was Vera-Sylvie, sitting sidesaddle in her dress.
“Did something happen?” I asked.
“Mr. Barbetorte asked me to take over for him,” she explained.
“Ah, right.” Since Vera-Sylvie was capable of magic, Salomon sending her over while he saw to other matters was a public display of keeping a mage bodyguard around me at all times. I reached my hand out to help her off her mount.
“Thank...you...” she said with a smile as she descended.
Now that I was getting another good look at her, she seemed really ill-matched for this whole army scenario. Here she was, a woman—a young girl, by all appearances—in a dress, traveling with a host of male soldiers. Frankly, she stood out.
Vera-Sylvie seemed to recall something, because she ducked her head into a bow and said, “I’m...sorry.”
I gave her a wry smile, knowing what she was apologizing for. “No... I was at fault too.”
Namely, she was apologizing for forcing her way into our army just before we departed. Although she was a capable mage, I couldn’t for the life of me picture her doing battle. My thoughts always ended up straying to the memory of my first time meeting her, when she’d been captive in her tower.
Vera-Sylvie was initially supposed to have been my father’s third wife. It went without saying that she had never received military training, nor had she ever stepped onto a battlefield. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t think her spellcasting ability was reason enough to expose her to the dangers of war. I had been furious at my lords, who had hidden their plan to have her join me because they’d known I would object.
However, as the emperor, having Vera-Sylvie come with us was the correct decision. Not for her sake, nor mine, but for Count Chamneau’s.
Since Vera-Sylvie’s father needed to defend his own holdings, he would not be able to participate in the battle at Chelán Hill. Meanwhile, every one of my other lords—well, the ones who’d pledged their allegiance to me, anyway—would be dispatching their own troops to join the effort. This was to assist me, of course, but I’d say the majority of the reason was to secure their postwar rewards for themselves.
I was the emperor, and that meant I had a duty to lay gifts and accolades upon my vassals for their service. Major achievements would earn them land or titles, while lesser ones would earn more minor prizes, such as sums of coin. This process was known as the conferral of honors.
The act of accompanying the emperor into war was as clear-cut of a contribution as it got. With Warren and Ramitead on the field, one might easily assume that the lack of anyone from the comital house of Chamneau would create a disparity in their eventual postwar conferrals. Thus, if Vera-Sylvie managed to accomplish anything at Chelán Hill, Count Chamneau would be able to rest easy. As a noble, that is. As a father, he was likely concerned for his daughter’s safety.
Of course, when it came time to dole out the rewards, I didn’t plan on showing any favoritism. My standard for evaluation wouldn’t be whether my vassals had fought on the same battlefield as me, but rather how much they had contributed to the emperor and the Empire. It was just that my lords, being unable to read my mind, didn’t know that.
Additionally, Vera-Sylvie would also serve as something of a hostage, just like Nadine. I disliked the idea, and personally thought that anyone who was going to betray you would do so regardless of a hostage, but Count Ethaiq and Count Nunvalle’s holdings were near Count Chamneau’s. If they could be certain that he wouldn’t try anything while their forces were absent, then that was all the more focus they could put into the battle.
In light of all these factors, there was no reason to refuse Vera-Sylvie. It would mean peace of mind for Count Chamneau, as well as the other nobility. I did think she could have chosen to wear something more practical, but she was a mage, after all. No one had pointed it out in the lead-up to her joining us, so I took that to mean my lords hadn’t seen an issue with it.
Incidentally, I had zero intentions of skimping on the accolades I’d be doling out to my lords. Since this was a civil war and we had a just cause backing us, I could simply confiscate the land and wealth of our opponents and redistribute them to the lords who’d allied with me. I wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything from my personal stash, so to speak.