“Well, let’s leave the story about my daughter here for now. Let’s move on to something else. How long do you think the war will last before it stops?”
“Well, do you have any specific timeframe in mind?”
The original purpose of our visit to the Empire was more or less resolved. Now, we shifted the topic to external matters.
Specifically, a ceasefire agreement.
We brought several attendants to discuss the specific details and draft the documents, but in the end, they are merely people who must follow orders.
Ultimately, the final decision rests with me and the Emperor sitting before me.
If we don’t discuss and settle the general matters ourselves, the subordinates won’t be able to do their work.
“Did Leclerc suggest three years? I’d like to extend that a bit and propose five years. Starting from the day the agreement is signed.”
“Five years… That seems too long. Isn’t that enough time to completely overhaul the country’s defense system?”
“We’ve been fighting non-stop for ten years, struggling and enduring. We need at least that much time to re-organize the country.”
Louis XVI wanted five years.
Since the front lines had already extended beyond the kingdom’s territory, it seemed he intended to use this opportunity to re-organize the military and take care of the internal affairs of the country.
Having waged total war under a pre-modern system must have heavily burdened the nation’s economy in many ways.
It likely seemed impossible to heal the wounds and restore things in less than a year or two.
“For me, it’s hard to offer more than two years. I just want to give us some time to catch our breath, not to negotiate a re-engagement in battle with full preparations.”
On the other hand, my proposal was only for two years.
Just like the Korean War, calling it a ceasefire but in reality ending the war, I didn’t see the need to leave such a long period of time.
Such an ambiguous approach, I couldn’t accept it, and neither could my tired subordinates and soldiers.
And, by the way, The contents of the agreement being made in this negotiation likely won’t have much value.
Even if it’s done hastily and carelessly, it’s fine.
Why? Well, because I genuinely intend to end the war.
“Don’t be too harsh, and please cooperate with my opinion. I’ll end the war before the ceasefire period even ends.”
“Oh? How do you plan to do that?”
“I’ll strip the king of everything—his authority, his power, his honor—everything. He’ll become no more than a commoner, even less than that.”
When I first proposed a constitutional monarchy to Lady Arschach, I didn’t plan to suppress him this thoroughly.
No matter how much I disliked him and wanted to beat him down, he was still a ruler.
If I persecuted him too much, the consequences would be too frightening to ignore.
At that time, my goal was to take away his power, secure our position, and turn him into a puppet.
I aimed to limit him, like the European monarchs of England or Denmark, who reign but don’t govern.
But now, it’s different.
“These damned bastards don’t deserve any mercy.”
Reign? That’s ridiculous.
These bastards don’t deserve respect or any reason for it.
I can’t believe I spent ten years of my life for scum like them.
No matter how I think about it, it’s unfair, and I’m filled with rage.
No reigning, no ruling. All they’ll be left with is the bare minimum of human rights that every person should have.
They may call themselves royalty, but I’ll reduce them to a position no different from commoners.
“And now, I’ve found the perfect justification.”
The king, who caused the war and hid the truth for ten years—what a perfect political card.
Not only did he abandon the northern front, but he also blames the entire cause of the war on them?
At this point, even the people who have spent their entire lives learning loyalty to the royal family and have had their brains hardened would be persuaded by anger and turn against them.
To be honest, if I wanted to, I could aim for a complete dynastic change.
This would go down in history as a rare case of a popular revolution with broad public support, a reversal of power.
Well, I’m not planning to create a new royal family with a different surname just yet, though. Anyway,
The best outcome would be something like the Japanese Imperial Family of the 21st century, or even lower. That’s the fate I envision for the House of Riodolph.
A position where they live on government allowances, always watching their backs.
The Emperor of Japan, at least, is treated like a living sage, but they won’t even receive that level of respect or reverence.
For those who have soaked in privileges all their lives, this would be a perfectly fitting punishment.
“If we put all the blame and responsibility on the king, achieving peace will be easy. The consequences won’t fall on me.”
“I see. You plan to use him as a scapegoat.”
“Yes, the one who caused the mess should clean it up, that’s how it works.”
And if I turn the royal family into vegetables, so to speak? After driving out the royalists and solidifying my foundation, I can sign a peace treaty with the Empire without any burdens.
No criticism, no political costs, just my way.
Even if the warmongers, the war profiteers, and those who want to fight until the end protest.
Even if the country faces complaints and losses due to the peace agreement.
I can shift all the blame onto the royal family.
This is a common phenomenon even in democratic societies—when a new government takes power, they often shift the blame onto their predecessors.
“So, what do you think?”
“I understand. I’ll do it the way you want.”
“Wise choice.”
So, we quickly reached an agreement on the future of the kingdom.
The subsequent process was simple.
Based on the rough outline the two of us had agreed on, we added details to create the treaty clauses.
We edited and modified the sentences with diplomatic phrasing and appropriate language.
Ah, and there were also small power struggles over the expressions and word order used to refer to each other.
After some expert work and additional consultations, a few pages of a well-crafted document were completed in just a few days.
“Then, by signing here, we will ratify the ceasefire treaty between the Holy Union Empire and the Kingdom of Ulranor.”
In front of the representatives of both nations, Louis XVI and I each signed and stamped the end of the treaty.
With this, neither country would be able to carry out any military activities near the borders for the next two years.
Only a small garrison could be stationed; no military training, no forward deployments—everything would return temporarily to the pre-war status.
“I’m sure you’re looking forward to it, Vice Chair Royten.”
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll soon repay you with satisfactory news.”
The public signing ceremony ended like this.
All official events in the Empire were now complete.
So, what’s next? Naturally, the after-party.
“The banquet hall is prepared with food and music. Today, regardless of nationality, everyone should eat and enjoy freely.”
“Oh, is there going to be a ball? I’m not good at dancing.”
“Then just sit somewhere and drink. It’s a rare feast, so let’s enjoy it.”
With the Emperor’s consideration, we entered the banquet hall, laughing and in high spirits.
There were mountains of tasks ahead, but for now, we had finished the big task, so we thought we should celebrate.
…Little did I know, this would be the calm before the storm.
What kind of threats would lie ahead for me?
“Now, let’s all raise our glasses! To the peace between the Kingdom and the Empire, cheers!”
“Cheers!”
In the warm atmosphere, glasses and dishes were passed around.
A sip of wine and a bite of meat slid down my throat, while soft bread and dumplings filled my hungry stomach.
To the uplifting melodies, the attendees swayed with their female partners, or whispered sweet words in each other’s ears.
Or they huddled together, laughing over jokes.
It was hard to believe this was the same country that had been at war just hours ago, yet the peace, even if temporary, had brought a sense of relief to everyone.
“Sir, would you care to dance a song? There are young ladies lined up who would like to dance with you.”
“No thanks. At my age, why would I dance with children?”
“But you’re not even in your 30s yet…”
“And those girls aren’t even in their 20s.”
Well, unfortunately, I wasn’t really able to enjoy myself that much.
Since becoming an adult, I had spent most of my years in the army and on the battlefield, so I wasn’t exactly well-versed in socializing.
I stayed off to the side, sipping my drink, walking around with my aide, and occasionally speaking with the Emperor.
“By the way, have you gotten married yet? By the time I knew you, you already had three kids.”
“Not yet. I haven’t had the time.”
“Ah, that’s unfortunate. All I can say is, I feel sorry for you.”
It wasn’t just a polite remark; he genuinely seemed sympathetic, and I had no response to that.
When I think about it, my situation really is tragic.
All I wanted was to live a simple life, settle down, and take it easy.
But now, here I am, fighting to survive while stuck in this political mess.
And it’s all because of those damn royal scum.
“…Let’s not talk about sad things on such a good day. Talking about it will only make us feel worse.”
“That’s true. Let’s just have a toast.”
The Emperor passed me a glass, taken from a servant who was passing by. It was pale, yellowish-white wine.
I clinked my glass lightly with his and tilted it to my lips. But just as I was about to take a sip, I realized something was wrong.
“Wait! Don’t drink it!!”
“Huh?”
–Clink!
I quickly knocked the Emperor’s glass out of his hand and threw mine to the floor.
Just in case, I rinsed my mouth with the water flask I had and wiped off any residue.
Shit, who the hell brought this?
“Why the sudden reaction, sir?”
“It’s poison. Fugu poison. If we had drunk it, both you and I would have been paralyzed and dead by now.”
I recognized it from an incident back in the army when a spy had laced the drinks with it.
You can feel a slight paralysis when it touches your skin.
That’s what killed my superior back then.
“Who the hell would do something like this?”
“I don’t know either. For now, stop the banquet. We need to investigate all the drinks and food served today. Check if there were any magicians involved—”
“Die, Royten!!”
Just as I was about to take action, a sudden shout came from behind.
A cold sensation crawled up my neck, and I turned.
It’s coming. An assassin? I calmly bent my body, then turned around and swung my arm.
“Die!!”
–Crack!
A heavy sensation hit my hand, followed by the sound of something breaking.
Daring to aim for my back? You’ve got at least ten years before you can pull that off, kid.