“I wish to comfort my mother’s heart in her stead.”

Though Jupiter’s face betrayed nothing, his tone was endlessly gentle.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hand over Edelin. With that small corner of Hanover within the Empire, perhaps my mother’s spirit could visit her homeland whenever longing struck.”

“…!”

The king’s brows twitched. Struck by the unexpected demand, he lost his words for a moment.

“The loss of Edelin will not bring calamity upon Hanover. Your kingdom has greater ports than that already. Were it up to me, I would ask for Mainz as well—my mother’s true home—but I will restrain myself. Give me only little Edelin.”

Jupiter’s laugh was cold.

“It is not so simple.” 

The king said, trembling, struggling to master his anger.

“I am not asking for it as a gift. For the next ten years, I will remit two-tenths of Edelin’s revenues to Lien.”

The table under the king’s hands shook violently.

“Ten years? Two-tenths? Absurd! What of Edelin’s people?”

“If their lord surrenders willingly, I will grant him a noble title within the Empire. If he wishes instead to leave and remain a noble of Hanover, I have no objection. As for the common folk—they will become subjects of the Empire. Should they refuse, they may resettle elsewhere in Hanover. There are plenty of imperial citizens eager to live in Edelin.”

“You think Edelin will yield so easily.” 

“If you do not cooperate, the Greitz army will march into Edelin at once. Already, several units are stationed near the border. And if open war proves impossible, we can simply wait until the castle opens its gates itself. Fortunately, winter is still far off—time is on the Empire’s side.”

“Edelin is vital to the kingdom as well. I cannot simply see it handed over. We will find another way. I give you my word—I will ensure a proper conclusion.”

‘Word.’ ‘Proper.’ Words that had never suited Barth II. Jupiter rose slowly to his feet.

“Persuasion will not change my mind. The Greitz Empire will no longer be content to survive by grasping at small, fleeting gains. If you promise to yield Edelin, I will lend my support in future trade negotiations with the Empire, for the good of your kingdom.”

He bowed with elegance, then straightened, looking down upon the king.

“I did not come here to negotiate.”

He fixed his gaze on the old king, whose eyes flashed with fury. Jupiter’s golden irises gleamed colder than ever—yet in their depths, there was an unsettling glimmer of boyish delight, as though toying with a game.

“When you reach a decision, inform me. The Empire will act according to your choice.”

***

The King of Hanover, Barth II, was incompetent. Ascending the throne young, he became sovereign of the kingdom, but his nature was rash and his thoughts shallow.

Hanover was corrupt, and its king had neither the will nor the skill to mend it. His authority had already sunk to its lowest ebb.

In the past, he had even alienated Duke Meyer—the most powerful lord of the realm—by forcing through a marriage alliance with the Empire. It had been a petty ploy to restore his crumbling power and bring Hanover’s nobles back under his heel.

The sacrifice had been Jupiter’s mother, Grace Meyer.

As with most such political marriages, the Emperor of Greitz was brutally indifferent to his Empress. She could not endure the loneliness, and ended her life by her own hand. With her death, the fragile bond between Empire and kingdom, which Barth II had strained to maintain, was severed entirely.

When word spread that Duke Meyer had taken the Empress’s son into his care in Hanover, Barth II had only sneered. The boy, he thought, would be forgotten soon enough—by both Empire and kingdom alike.

Afterward, the Emperor of Greitz raised his long-time consort to Empress and promised the throne to the son born between them, the younger half-brother. The crown, which should have been the elder’s by right, was passed to another.

And yet, two years ago, that tragic prince shook the foundations of the Greitz Empire.

Leaving Mainz for Greitz, Jupiter parried the first blade sent to strike him, rallied troops in an instant, and wiped out every rival in swift succession.

For days, bloodstorms raged. When they subsided, every whisper questioning his legitimacy was silenced. Those who had raised doubts bowed their heads in submission.

Soon after, Jupiter confined his younger half-brother, Prince Plutos—once the heir apparent—and seized the place for himself.

In that same struggle, the Emperor collapsed. Incapacitated, he lingered bedridden, and naturally, the crown prince assumed absolute power in his stead.

Now, Barth II found himself plagued by the prince’s outrageous, insolent demands. Until recently, he had dismissed Jupiter as no more than Duke Meyer’s puppet.

But having faced him at last, he realized his mistake.

The young man had already surpassed the cunning and brilliance of the duke who had raised him.

The House of Weiss had always been loyal to the crown. For generations, they had faithfully guarded that small yet vital land.

Edelin was not only the kingdom’s shield against Greitz at the border, but also a precious gateway for trade with the kingdom across the sea, Lien. To surrender Edelin would surely shake Hanover to its core.

The nobles would rise at once. Some, eager to side with the Empire, might even stir rebellion. Worse still, that Greitzian prince might set his sights on yet more Hanoverian lands. He had already spoken shamelessly of desiring Mainz itself.

And yet, to refuse meant war. The Kingdom of Hanover lacked the strength for large-scale conflict against the Empire. The prince surely knew it—that was why he had spoken so openly of war. That boy was bold enough to carry out every threat he had made.

In the end, Barth II fell silent. And likely, he would remain silent still.

***

“Young lady! Lady Leda!”

Her nurse came running into her room, panting for breath.

“What is it, Nurse?”

“They say… they say war may break out.”

“War?” 

Leda’s eyes flew wide.

“Just now Hans—oh, that kitchen boy Hans—he went down to the harbor, and oh, dear Lord above!”

“Nurse, speak properly. Hans did what? Tell me.”

“He went to the harbor on an errand, to fetch food for the master. And—”

“Nurse!”

The woman crossed herself frantically.

“But the talk among the dockworkers, it was no small thing, my lady. Not small at all.”

Leda slid closer, pressing against her side.

“What talk?”

“They say the Greitz army is about to march on Edelin!”

“Greitz… on Edelin? But why?”

“Who knows why? Hasn’t it always been their way? Always scheming, always crying war, war, war.”

“But still, there must be some reason for such rumors now.”

“They say it’s because of that cursed prince—or emperor-to-be, whatever he is.”

“Prince?”

“Yes, my lady. What will we do if there is war? What will become of the master? Of the mistress and yourself? We’re all as good as dead. I’ll be dead, won’t I, my lady?”

At those words, Leda’s eyes blazed.

“Nurse! What nonsense is that? In all the centuries of its history, Edelin Castle has never once fallen. My father will not allow it!”

But her words gave no comfort. The nurse’s tears began to flow in earnest.

Watching her shoulders shake, Leda shut her book with a quiet thump.

“Nurse, prepare me. I must see Father.”

***

Lord Testion Weiss, lord of Edelin, listened to his vassals’ reports with a grim face.

“The rumor that Greitz means to annex Edelin is spreading unchecked across the domain. They say barracks are already rising along the border.”

Testion rubbed at his weary eyes.

“I know. And from the capital? No word?”

One of his men, hesitant, finally spoke.

“Your Lordship… it seems no one knows the king’s will.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. By rights, when we requested reinforcements some time ago in case of emergency, the royal decree should have come at once. But no matter how we press, the king’s retainers keep silent. They refuse to say anything.”

“In the worst case, we may have to bar the gates and face Greitz alone.”

The faces of lord and men alike twisted with sorrow.