“In the worst case, you mean we’ll have to shut the gates and face Greitz on our own.”

From the very founding of Hanover, Edelin had stood at the forefront, guarding the kingdom’s borders. More than that, a significant portion of Hanover’s imports and exports passed through Edelin’s ports.

The Edelinians had lived for generations in this frontier land, sustained by the pride of defending their kingdom’s security and prosperity. Yet that pride had begun to wear thin in recent days.

“That’s right. We can hold out for a few months, but as you know, once the supplies inside the walls run dry, it’ll only be a matter of time before we’re wiped out. With the heat, disease may spread as well.”

Testion’s sharp, steadfast gaze swept across each of his men, meeting their eyes one by one.

“Form squads and inspect the walls. If there are cracks or unstable foundations on the outer wall, reinforce them immediately. Keep the moat from running dry—even if we must draw in seawater, fill it. Take stock again of all the people living inside the walls. Report the numbers of the sick, the elderly, the children, and the pregnant women.”

The soldiers answered in unison and quickly dispersed, but their faces still carried heavy unease.

Testion stood silently, staring out toward the harbor, lost in thought. Despite the troubling rumors, Edelin’s port still bustled with workers unloading and hauling goods from ships. He had endured countless border disputes as lord of this frontier, but this time his instincts offered little comfort.

The emperors of Greitz, though demanding in tributes and treaties, had generally ruled with a restrained hand toward their neighbors. It had been centuries since they had directly raised an army to provoke territorial conflict.

And behind the king’s indecision was surely that prince—the one who had, with overwhelming force and cunning, crushed and occupied the imperial palace of Greitz not long ago.

Just then, a cautious presence stirred outside the door. Snapping out of his reverie, Testion called quietly.

“Enter.”

His daughter, Leda, who had been waiting for some time, stepped into the office. Testion welcomed her with deliberate calm, as though nothing weighed upon him.

“What is it, Leda?”

Leda gazed at her father’s face for a long moment before speaking, her eyes slowly reddening.

“You look worn, Father.”

At her words, Testion rubbed his face with his hands and let out a dry laugh.

“Do I look like it?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked closer and carefully set down something she had been carrying, wrapped in cloth.

“I… I made you new quills.”

With an effort to brighten her face, Leda unwrapped the bundle. Swan feathers, wrapped in colorful fabric, came into view.

“I picked them up by the river these past days. The swans had shed quite a few.”

“Thank you.”

Testion’s faint smile appeared as he picked one up and held it in his hand. The carved nib was finely cut.

“I may not be as skilled as you, Father, but I think I’m getting better at shaping them.”

At his grown daughter’s childish attempt at comfort, Testion’s lips curved. Leda knew how to soothe a heart—neither too heavy nor too light.

“…But, Father.”

Leda finally let out the words she had been holding back, her voice thick as if releasing a breath she had long suppressed.

“People inside the walls are frightened.”

Testion sighed and drew her hand toward him, patting it gently. He searched within for the right answer.

“…My dear, this is not a burden for you to carry. You know well—Edelin has never once been conquered. This time will be no different.”

“I know, Father. But even if the fortress holds, people may still die and be hurt.”

Her blue eyes darkened.

“I’m afraid something might happen to you.”

Watching her trembling form, Testion rose from his chair. He stepped around the desk and looked down at his daughter, whose eyes mirrored his own, and spoke softly, with regret in his gaze.

“Leda, our house of Vais was born to stand with the people of Edelin—whatever may come. Even if it means death, that will not change. For me to risk myself to protect them… that is only natural.”

He walked slowly to the great emblem of the Weiss family that hung on the wall behind his desk. A vast silver shield engraved with a white swan gleamed as radiantly as ever.

“The shield stands for Hanover’s defense by strength and force. The swan stands for its protection by nobility and honor. Even if the shield is broken, the meaning will not fade.”

Leda burst into tears. Testion gently wiped them away. His expression was serene, yet the large, calloused hand brushing the redness from her eyes trembled ever so slightly.

***

The mood inside the fortress was restless.

Many people fled the territory to escape the coming war. Testion emptied his own coffers to give them settlement funds outside the walls. Even so, as they left behind the land of Edelin where they had lived their entire lives, they looked back again and again.

Leda stood with her mother at the city gate, seeing them off. The two women did not move until the departing figures vanished down the long road.

Holy Mother, we entrust ourselves to Your protection. Deliver us from every danger. Amen, amen, amen.

Every night, the nursemaid held her close and whispered prayers without end into her ear. Listening to those words, it almost felt like everything was only a dream—like she would wake to find herself safe, that if she endured a little longer, all would return to its rightful place.

But when Marisa, the nurse who had insisted on staying with her, finally yielded to her family’s pleas and left, Leda’s despair became complete. That farewell made her realize it was no dream but a harsh, unrelenting reality.

Those who remained in the castle were divided into two factions. Some wanted to yield and be annexed into Greitz without war, while others argued that Edelin must be defended to the end, even at the cost of battle. Their debates grew hostile, with no easy resolution in sight.

Her father chose active resistance against Greitz. But Leda’s brother, Darius, wanted to surrender.

“Do you think it ends if only Edelin falls? The Empire will hunger for more, and soon all of Hanover will be theirs.”

Her father’s words were heavy, born of a lifetime lived for the kingdom and for Edelin.

“What does it matter? The king has already abandoned us. What worth has such a kingdom if it vanishes?”

Darius’s voice was sharp with defiance. He feared the war, and he despised a king who watched idly and did nothing.

Life was precious to all. What meaning could there be in Edelin’s victory if it was bought with sacrifice? Besides, the chance of victory was slim to none.

“This is the land where you were born and raised. Watch your tongue.”

Furrows deepened across Testion’s brow as he looked at his enraged son. Darius flung the words without restraint.

“Father, for centuries Edelin has given everything in loyalty to the crown. We bled and sacrificed to protect this kingdom. And what is the result? We will die in these walls facing the Greitz Empire, while the king trades away Edelin for his own gain!”

The innocent, including himself and his family, would suffer. Sacrificing lives for ideals was, to him, sheer foolishness. Darius’s beliefs were wholly opportunistic and pragmatic.

Death for principle was nothing but the convenient excuse of the powerful. The ones who died and the ones who profited from those deaths were never the same. And those who perished were most often the weak.

“Even so, I cannot cast aside the honor of Weiss. Our house exists for Edelin. Remember this: if Edelin is lost, we are lost as well.”

“Even if Edelin is lost, we must survive, Father.”

The gleam in Darius’s eyes was sharp as steel. Testion said nothing more.

Within days, the fortress fell into silence, heavy as death. Only a small number, those who shared Testion’s resolve, remained inside. It could not be helped.

Among them was Leda’s dearest friend, Sinclair. Count and Countess Weiss had taken him in when he was left an orphan. He never forgot the gratitude and respect he owed them. But more than that, he had one reason he could never leave.

Leda.

She had chosen to stand with her father in resistance. He could not turn away from that firm yet fragile decision. Leda was the very axis of his life.

When his mother died and he was left alone, it was thanks to the countess’s kindness that he came to live within the castle. And it was little Leda who had taken his hand with a bright smile. From that moment, she had been everything to him.

“Sinclair, before it’s too late… shouldn’t you also prepare to leave?”

The day after her nursemaid left, Leda came to him. She smiled as if nothing were wrong, but her voice was drained of strength, the voice of someone who had already surrendered so much, who had lost too much. Her lips were parched and cracked with the wounds of being bitten again and again.

“Don’t say such things, my lady. This is my home.”

Sinclair silently carried supplies. Just seeing her set his chest ablaze. To hide it, all he could do was throw himself into hauling and sorting munitions, trivial tasks though they were.

In truth, only two choices lay before him.

To remain in the castle, or not.