“They say Edelin will soon fall to Greitz. Do you think it’s true?”

“……”

Sinclair knew it too. The chances of winning this war were slim. The number of people leaving, the look on the faces of those who stayed—everything spoke plainly of the truth.

“I’m scared, Sinclair. Darius said no reinforcements will come. Then Father will have to fight alone, won’t he?”

Leda’s eyes reddened once more.

Many respected her father, and rightly so. He was a kind and just man, and few would ever deny it. Yet his noble character was not something ordinary people could easily understand. Most clung not to ideals of loyalty and honor, but to the simple hope of survival. They admired him, but turned away. That was the way of the world for those who lived common lives.

But such words could not be spoken aloud. The only thing Sinclair could offer was comfort.

“There are still many who follow the lord, my lady. Please don’t worry too much.”

“Father has no intention of surrendering the fortress. And the truth is, Sinclair… I know it all too well. I’m afraid of the war. I’m afraid of dying. I’m afraid of watching the people I love die. But too many have already left the castle. Even Darius has turned against Father’s will. I can’t say I don’t understand him—I don’t want to condemn my brother. But Father… Father is so pitiful. It breaks my heart, Sinclair…”

Her blue eyes wavered in turmoil. Words poured from her like cries that broke off before they could finish, and she buried her face in both hands.

Sinclair pulled her trembling shoulders into an awkward, gentle embrace. At that moment, he realized—he did not have two choices. He had only one.

***

When the sweltering heat of summer had at last given way to a cooler breeze, the Greitz army stationed in the border city of Bern marched south into Edelin, issuing their declaration of war.

Their numbers were overwhelming. Soldiers in black uniforms surrounded the fortress in an unbroken line. For a mere small stronghold, the scale and force they sent was terrifyingly vast.

The imperial soldiers scaled the walls. Flaming arrows flew over the battlements day after day, setting the inside of the fortress ablaze. The roar of cannon fire shook the earth.

Their strategy was swift and bold. Under their relentless onslaught, Edelin stumbled again and again.

Edelin was being trampled into ruin. In the garden Leda once tended, lily petals lay scattered and blackened in death. The fortress of House Weiss, proud and unyielding for generations, was being reduced to ashes.

But that was the least of it. Leda ran about carrying bandages and medicine, forced to witness her father’s men bleeding and collapsing one after another.

The disparity in numbers was impossible to withstand. Just as Darius had said, the outcome of this war had already been decided from the beginning. Father was only holding on by sheer will.

Darius locked himself in his room. Their mother sought him out, clutching him and weeping. Pride and fear split the family apart.

Caught between husband and son, the countess was consumed by endless torment. She could not take a side, and little by little, she withered away.

The rift between father and son drained even the soldiers’ morale. The assaults never ceased, and the battle dragged on with no hope of reversal.

Even the initial resolve to defend Edelin to the end began to fade. Deep in their hearts, the people longed for their lord to make a final decision. None could blame them—they had watched their loved ones die right beside them.

A month after the Empire first fired upon Edelin’s gates, the black eagle banner pushed through the second wall. Blood-soaked boots tightened the encirclement.

That night, Father summoned Leda and her mother to the cellar.

“There is food and water enough here. Stay until the battle ends. I will come once a day to check on you.”

His stern gaze lingered long on his wife’s face. Taking her hand, he led her toward the small door.

“If I do not come for more than a day, then use this door to escape the fortress.”

Her mother sobbed, collapsing into wails until she fainted. Father then reached slowly toward Leda.

“Leda, take care of your mother.”

She gripped his hand tightly. Her tears would not come anymore.

Leaving words that were as good as a final testament, Father pulled back his hand and climbed the cellar stairs. Leda slowly opened her palm, still warm from his touch.

In her hand lay two small glass vials he had pressed into it. The crimson liquid within shimmered—poison. A last mercy he had left for them.

Time passed. Several days into their confinement, the cries and cannon fire outside suddenly fell silent.

An eerie stillness descended upon the dark cellar where no ray of sunlight reached.

Leda had remained curled in silence, her body surrendered to stillness. Suddenly, she realized that her father had not come that morning. Startled, she sprang upright.

“Mother… Mother…”

Her lips trembled as she fumbled desperately beside her. The body that had lain with her was already long grown cold. In the darkness, an empty vial glimmered with a chilling sheen.

She clutched the one remaining vial, strung it around her neck, and forced open the cellar door with trembling hands. In an instant, dozens of soldiers surrounded her. Her eyes were vacant, hollow.

***

A black carriage rumbled into the ruined fortress of Edelin, wheels cutting fresh scars into the land already trampled to pieces. All across the castle grounds, the banners of the Schwarz imperial house fluttered in the wind.

The war that had begun in summer ended before winter arrived. Spreading rumors to sow unease within Edelin, and binding Hanover’s feeble king through threats beforehand, had been a masterful choice.

Jupiter extended a hand to open the carriage window. Crimson leaves fell one by one, piling upon the ground. Beyond the shattered walls, the blue sea of Edelin stretched out.

For the Empire, it had been a small price to pay for a useful coast. To lose a finger but rip out the enemy’s heart—that was, without doubt, a most satisfying and desirable outcome.

As the carriage slowed, his aide began his report as though waiting for the cue.

“Your Highness, a briefing. …Darius Weiss is awaiting the signing of the treaty.”

“Is there anything I should be particularly aware of?”

“No, Your Highness. He has agreed to sign all the documents drawn up by the Empire without objection. House Weiss will remain the lords of Edelin. The surrendered residents also wish to continue living here.”

Jupiter’s lips curved faintly. Exactly as expected. The late Count Weiss’s son had surrendered the fortress the moment his father died, throwing open the gates with the white flag raised. Unlike his father, he was a man far easier to reason with.

Of course, from Edelin’s perspective, it was a hollow and bitter end. Jupiter understood this well. For that reason, he intended to show mercy to those who had yielded. To kill those who need not be killed—there was no logic in that, a principle he constantly reminded himself of.

More than that, he knew how to rule land efficiently. Edelin would continue to exist as it was.

“Yes. A change of masters, but little else will be different.”

“Exactly, Your Highness. That was our intention from the start. The most efficient way forward.”

The aide nodded. Edelin had always been a model territory, well-governed even before. There was no need to interfere, and no guarantee that change would improve it.

Furthermore, the Greitz Empire intended to pour its full strength into developing Edelin. To do so, someone who understood the land was necessary. This was why Darius, son of the late count, had been permitted to inherit his title without delay.

“Anything else?”

“There remains the matter of negotiations with Hanover’s king. He continues to send envoys almost every week, demanding answers and insisting that a mere twenty percent share of the tax revenue is insufficient.”

“He won’t be settled easily. A pathetic old man.”

Jupiter lit a cigarette, his expression soured with irritation though he spoke no further.

“And most of all, Your Highness, he has pressed insistently for a marriage between yourself and the Princess of Hanover.”

“…What?”