Misfortune 114

Chapter 114

***

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***

Roan froze in place as if suddenly struck from behind while walking down the street. That's how shocking it was.

Yet the very person who had rendered him utterly immobile continued speaking in a perfectly calm tone, uttering the most absurd words.

"That's why you called me, right? Because you like her, you want to do anything for her."

Jack, who had been fluently speaking the Imperial language, added one last warning.

"So don't hurt Delnia anymore. You're supposed to cherish someone you like, right?"

Jack narrowed his eyes, as if vowing to watch closely how things unfolded from now on.

But Roan couldn't say a word. He had no time to worry about those eyes.

Watching the man frozen stiff like a statue, Jack let out a deep sigh. Then, as if deciding not to get involved any further, he quietly slipped away.

"Well then, sleep well."

Jack, maintaining his courtesy to the very end, withdrew calmly, leaving Roan alone in the spacious bedroom.

Yet he remained utterly motionless, like a broken music box, endlessly replaying Jack's words over and over.

“Because I thought the Colonel liked her a lot.”

“Like?”

“Not what, but Delnia.”

That woman?

"No way."

He spat out a cold, dismissive denial. His throat, scratched by scorn, stung like he'd swallowed a thorn.

But no matter how much he thought about it, it didn't make sense.

That he liked that woman?

Not possible.

To Roan, Delnia had always been the woman he hated most in the world.

And now that hatred had merely transformed into guilt. Because the misunderstanding had been cleared up.

His sins against her were as countless as his deep hatred. He couldn't bear it without paying at least some price for those sins.

But that didn't mean his feelings could be anything else.

The way his chest tightened painfully whenever he saw her, the lump in his throat that made it hard to speak, the restless urge to do anything for her...

There was no way it could be for such a ridiculous reason. This was merely part of his atonement.

He was merely fretting like a sinner who owed too much.

"Yeah. That couldn't be it…”

He muttered to himself incessantly, then roughly wiped the corners of his mouth, which felt like they might twitch. As if calming himself, telling himself there was no need to be unsettled by such absurd words.

But he didn't even realize his fingertips were trembling too.

***

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, the rapidly escalating situation day after day left Roan no time to dwell deeply on his own turmoil.

As the full-scale threat of war began to loom, the empire reorganized its forces, appointing separate commanders-in-chief for the ground and naval forces.

War could break out at any moment. Appointing a commander-in-chief to oversee the entire military during wartime was a natural step.

The problem, however, lay in the person appointed as commander-in-chief.

"How could they do this? Not only did they promote Brigadier General Cuern to Admiral, but they've appointed him Commander-in-Chief too...!"

"This is a death sentence!"

The Navy, which had believed Admiral Lasser would naturally be chosen, was struck by shock as if caught in a surprise attack.

Rear General Cuern—no, Admiral Cuern—was a veteran who, like Admiral Lasser, had spent his entire career in the navy.

But within the navy, there was no one unaware that, unlike Admiral Lasser, he was actually a sly old fox who had always avoided the front lines, taking charge only of administrative duties.

"Even if His Imperial Highness the First Prince has no experience commanding a war, this is too much."

"Is this not an attempt to undermine the authority of Admiral Lasser, whom His Majesty the Emperor trusted above all others?"

The backlash was particularly fierce because the appointment came from the Crown Prince, who was acting as regent for the Emperor who preferred to stay in his seat.

Even setting aside the fact that Admiral Cuern was distantly related to the First Prince through his maternal family, the First Prince had always been displeased with Admiral Lasser’s unwavering loyalty, which was directed solely toward the Empire.

Moreover, while the First Prince was currently the sole heir to the throne, he lacked sufficient internal support. Now that he no longer needed to heed the Emperor's wishes, his arrogant nature began to surface.

The First Prince becoming Emperor was an inevitable progression. However, if his support base could be shaken from this point onward, it might weaken the imperial authority itself. For the nobles, it was a golden opportunity to expand their own standing.

Beneath the surface of the Brunois imperial social scene, such intense power struggles were raging. This appointment could also be seen as a ripple effect of those struggles.

But unlike the appointment itself, the actual situation posed a problem: it wouldn't unfold so smoothly.

"How can the troops trust and follow a brigadier general with no combat experience?"

"It will only weaken the Navy's internal strength."

Already on edge in this tense, volatile situation where war could erupt at any moment, the officers and soldiers voiced their discontent in unison.

An organization with a commander they could not trust and follow would inevitably collapse. This was especially true on the battlefield, where lives depended on the orders of superiors.

"Watch your tongue. He is now Admiral Cuern."

"Colonel!"

But Roan cut off his subordinates' clamor with a single stroke. The same went for the complaints that followed.

He understood their concerns.

But even if he wasn't the Commander-in-Chief, the actual command of the war ultimately fell to Admiral Lasser. A Commander-in-Chief ignorant of actual combat would undoubtedly defer decisions to Admiral Lasser.

But if victory came that way, Admiral Cuern would claim all the glory and fame for himself. That was likely the scenario he desired.

From Admiral Lasser’s perspective, having to accept glory that was never meant for him might feel unjust. Of course, that assumes he's the type to be swayed by personal achievements.

“I don't recall ever creating an army so weak it would falter because of me.”

True to form, Admiral Lasser responded to Roan, who had come upon hearing the news, with that same curt indifference.

If Admiral Lasser had accepted the First Prince's order, Roan would have followed it without complaint.

His subordinates, who had been pouring out their grievances, had to turn back without much success due to his resolute attitude.

Finally alone, Roan put a cigar in his mouth. Drawing the acrid smoke deep into his lungs, the turbulent turmoil within him settled slightly.

Even if it was only a temporary effect, in this situation, even a moment's peace was welcome.

Given the reality, he had scarcely been able to show his face at the residence.

He doubted he could even look that woman in the face properly in his current state of mind, but being deprived of even that opportunity only made his already frayed nerves snap further.

"Colonel."

Then, in the corridor that had finally grown quiet, someone announced their presence with a respectful knock.

"Come in."

Assuming it was one of the subordinates who had just left, Roan replied without turning toward the doorway.

But the figure who entered through the door was unexpectedly unfamiliar.

"Good day, Colonel Barthez.”

Roan gave a sharp glance to the junior officer who saluted neatly, then merely gave a slight nod.

'Probably from the Command Headquarters Secretariat.'

Roan's eyes narrowed slightly at the visit from a low-ranking clerk he had only met once before and had little connection with. Unexpected situations invariably brought trouble.

"My lord requests your presence, Colonel."

"Your lord?"

As expected, faced with an unexpected request, Roan reflexively snapped back sharply.

Instead of answering, the clerk fumbled something out of his pocket.

Recognizing the symbol, Roan's blue eyes flickered for an instant.

Roan lifted his gaze slightly, scrutinizing the scribe's face. Yet, despite the piercing intensity of his gaze, the scribe's expression remained utterly unruffled.

Still holding his gaze, Roan crushed his cigar into the ashtray and asked.

"Where is she now?"

***

The clerk led Roan to a shabby tavern tucked away in a corner of the village.

Roan passed the drunks and headed for a separate guest room. Having changed into plain clothes beforehand at the other party's suggestion, no one found them suspicious.

A man waiting outside the room exchanged a few words with the clerk before opening the door.

"You're finally here."

The man alone at the head of the table inside greeted him warmly. Though he wore a hooded robe pulled up over his head, Roan already knew who it was.

Soon, the door closed behind him. It seemed today's meeting was to be a private one.

"Let's skip the unnecessary pleasantries."

The command came in a low, hushed voice.

As instructed, Roan merely bowed his head briefly before slowly opening his mouth.

"I never imagined Your Highness would come to a place like this."

A faint chuckle followed as the hood of the robe fell back. Soon, a cascade of crimson hair revealed itself, like a blazing sun.

It was Jeanne Lejeune de Brunois, the sole princess of the Brunois Empire.