To the east of the Olstein Empire lies a mountain range known as Har.

The mountains are so steep and towering that even eagles crossing the desolate heights must rest their wings, making the area largely inaccessible to humans.

As a result, it was far easier to quietly approach the Kingdom of Kut, located beneath the mountain range, by sea.

Thus, it was not surprising that Admiral Licht, following Leonid’s orders, set sail immediately and arrived at a rundown inn near Kut’s harbor within three days.

“Licht Berni?”

“…”

A rapier glinted like a jewel at his throat. Seated at the table in his quarters, Admiral Licht raised both hands to show he was unarmed.

“My apologies. I mistook your cane,” said a woman in a robe as she withdrew her sword and sat across from Licht. Several guards, likely her escorts, entered the room silently and positioned themselves around the space.

“I greet Her Majesty, the Queen of Kut. I am Admiral Licht of the Duchy of Brienne,” Licht said, recognizing the face of Queen Olga under the robe and offering a respectful bow.

“…”

Though she had ruled for only a few years since assuming the regency, Queen Olga’s eyes already gleamed with ambitions that belied her youth. Admiral Licht couldn’t help but think of Princess Amelia, who was of a similar age.

“I didn’t expect you to arrive so swiftly. It seems your reputation for excellent navigation is well-earned.”

“I am honored, Your Majesty. I was merely aided by a favorable wind.”

“Perhaps the seas of Kut welcomed you,” Olga said with a wry smile. “Now, let’s hear the good news you bring.”

The regal tone in her voice heightened Licht’s tension.

His meeting with the Queen of Kut, in a hidden inn rather than the royal palace, was possible solely due to a letter from Leonid.

Leonid, unable to leave the palace in Brienne due to the watchful eyes of Olstein knights, had dispatched Admiral Licht to Kut. Along with him, he sent a sealed letter addressed to Queen Olga. The letter reached her unopened, as it bore both the name “Vidal,” which Leonid had used during his time in Kut, and the seal granted only to royal cadet branches.

“So, Leonid is a native of Kut? I never imagined he belonged to the House of Vidal,” Queen Olga remarked, clearly intrigued by Leonid’s secretive lineage.

“All this time, he could have used Vidal’s name to his advantage,” she mused.

“…”

“And now he chooses to reveal it to meet me? This must be a matter of great importance,” she said, her curiosity unabashed. Her proactive nature had undoubtedly played a role in facilitating this secret audience.

“The Olstein Empire plans to establish a navy, Your Majesty,” Licht began, causing Olga’s expression to harden. The lively sparkle in her eyes turned sharp.

“This has not yet been disclosed to other nations.”

“Is this information reliable?”

Licht nodded.

“The Emperor has already ordered warships to be constructed in Brienne.”

“Hah.”

The Queen let out a short laugh.

“Pirates with no foundation think they can form a navy.”

“…”

“And?” she prompted.

“Is that all the Duke of Leonid has to say?”

Licht cast a quick glance toward a royal guard standing by the window. Noticing this, Queen Olga gestured dismissively.

“Leave us.”

The guards hesitated briefly before nodding and quietly exiting the room.

“Duke Leonid seeks to purchase materials for shipbuilding at favorable rates,” Licht said after ensuring privacy.

“And what’s the purpose of such an absurd request?” Olga asked, her brows furrowing.

Kut, once as prosperous as Sarnica—if not more so—had abundant resources from the Har Mountains, including minerals and timber. However, its fortunes waned rapidly as Olstein’s influence grew. For Kut, any imperial activity was deeply unwelcome.

Despite knowing this, the Empire had the audacity to request cooperation in building warships. Olga’s question made her disbelief clear.

“To fund Brienne’s independence,” Licht confessed, revealing a long-held plan. He felt a surge of apprehension. How would Kut react to a colonial territory declaring its intent to break away?

“…”

A quiet smile spread across Olga’s face.

“An interesting proposition,” she said at last.

Leonid’s prediction had been correct.

—

“What? The Crown Prince struck him?”

Marika’s eyes widened in shock upon hearing the sudden news.

“That’s what my brother said,” Rose replied with a wry smile.

Rose and Bartholomew, siblings, were Marika’s long-time friends. She had come for tea today, only to find Bartholomew absent. After some prodding, Rose reluctantly revealed the surprising incident.

While out for a walk, Bartholomew had approached a lady to strike up a conversation, only to be kicked in the face by Crown Prince Josef. He was now recovering from the injury.

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Marika.”

Rose shook her head firmly.

“His Highness merely acted in accordance with chivalry.”

Marika paused mid-sip, her teacup hovering near her lips.

Chivalry. It was a word she didn’t associate with Josef, yet she recalled hearing it used in his context not long ago.

The sled race in the snowy mountains, the Crown Prince vanishing briefly only to return with Amelia in tow, and the fleeting commotion at the social gatherings over the identity of Brienne’s princess.

“No matter if he’s the Crown Prince, would he really lack chivalry to the extent of ignoring an injured lady?”

Marika’s father dismissed the incident in such terms, but in her memory, Josef’s behavior at that moment felt somehow different from usual.

‘…I’m curious about who she was.’

Rose rested her chin on her hand and let out a light sigh.

“The Crown Prince is someone even my father hesitates to approach, so that’s understandable.”

“…”

“If we knew which family the lady belonged to, we could at least ask about the reason. But even Bartholomew said he didn’t catch her name.”

It was unthinkable to directly ask the Crown Prince, “Why did you hit him?” That could lead to something worse than just a broken nose. Instead, they wanted to find the woman who was present at the scene, but they didn’t know her name.

“It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but at social events, my brother can’t resist mingling. Yet he doesn’t know this lady? Who could she be?”

Most nobles from other territories had already left, and only families from Olstein remained near the castle. Marika listened carefully to Rose’s murmuring.

She had a suspicion. A foreigner still staying at the castle. Someone around their age but who rarely appeared in social circles. A lady so beautiful that even Bartholomew would approach her.

“I think I know.”

“Really? Who?”

“Could it be Miss Amelia of Brienne?”

“Oh my!”

Rose’s expression lit up with surprise at Marika’s words.

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Miss Amelia hardly ever attends social gatherings, so it makes sense Bartholomew wouldn’t know her.”

Though Rose had never met Amelia, she had heard about Josef tending to her injury personally during the sledding competition.

“…Marika, would it be alright if we invited her over to talk?”

Rose, her face brimming with curiosity, asked Marika.

“Talk about what?”

Marika felt a strange unease as Rose’s interest shifted entirely toward Amelia.

“Under the pretext of apologizing if my brother acted inappropriately, I’d like to hear about what happened. I’m curious about the circumstances.”

Rose took a sip of tea before continuing.

“And why the Crown Prince happened to appear there so suddenly.”

Marika had to admit, she was curious about that as well.

—

An invitation from the Baron Chiaveri family.

As Amelia examined the gold-trimmed card, she tilted her head in puzzlement. Chiaveri… It was an unfamiliar name. Then she quickly realized she only knew of Olstein’s Mieschko Ducal family.

“Lady Rose Chiaveri is close to Lady Marika. She heard about you from her and expressed a desire to meet you,” explained Betty, who had brought the invitation while replacing the water in a vase by the window.

“Then I should go,” Amelia said, rising to find a card to write her reply.

With spring approaching, Olstein’s social calendar would soon begin in earnest. Whether she liked it or not, Amelia knew she’d have to start accepting such invitations more frequently. And if the host was a close acquaintance of Marika, who was soon to become the Crown Princess, it was all the more reason to attend. She decided to postpone wondering why Lady Rose was eager to meet her.

Amelia selected the most ornate card she had brought from Brienne, adorned with lace in the shape of a dove carrying a letter. On the back, she penned her thanks for the invitation, promising to attend.

As Amelia finished her note, Betty, gazing out the window, suddenly gasped.

“My lady, something seems to be happening outside.”

“What is it?”

Betty remained at the window, her eyes fixed. Following her gaze, Amelia stepped closer and stopped short.

“…Who could they be?”

The courtyard, usually quiet, was now bustling with workers in weathered shirts and knee-high boots, wielding axes and pitchforks.

“Gardeners, perhaps,” Betty speculated, her theory supported by someone hauling a cart brimming with flower seedlings.

While Amelia struggled to make sense of the scene, the workers dispersed with military precision, already stabbing shovels into the lawn.

“…”

Then Amelia spotted a familiar figure. Standing at the edge of the activity, wearing a sleek black justaucorps like a uniform, was Josef.

Observing the workers, he slowly turned to look up at her window, as if sensing her gaze.

Their eyes met.

The tranquil afternoon shattered once more.