Chapter 656: Let’s Continue
"Sister, are you talking about... Monica Angelis?"
Amalia had once heard Astrid’s evaluation of this Saintess of Light, and she knew Monica held a rather special attitude toward Astrid.
She seemed to have unilaterally decided, because of the series of reforms and achievements Astrid had carried out, that Astrid was the very incarnation of an omniscient, omnipotent Lord walking the earth, so much so that she was willing to offer assistance on every front.
"Yes, her."
Astrid agreed softly with Amalia’s guess and then pushed the topic further.
"Monica, by sharing intelligence from the Church of Light, barely proved her loyalty to me and explained her ideals. This Saintess of Light does not approve of the doctrines the Church is currently preaching to the faithful, and she wants to change them."
After the battle at White Maple Town, Amalia had been able to infiltrate the Church so easily only because Velys’s intelligence spy inside the kingdom had Monica’s cooperation as an insider.
"I’m not the incarnation of the Lord, but since she insists on thinking that way, I let her have it."
Feeling the warmth against her outer thigh, Astrid closed her knees; the soft whisper of stockinged fabric rubbed in the room, a gentle accompaniment to the woman’s melodious voice.
"Monica has said more than once that she is very interested in magical devices, these magical products born of craft and arcane ingenuity. She hopes that in the near future, the Kingdom of Velys will also be able to use such convenient tools."
This perfectly aligned with Astrid’s plan to flood the Kingdom of Velys with goods, one party willing to push, the other happy to receive. A match made in heaven.
"So, if the upcoming military operations go smoothly, and Monica proves her value and strong organizational ability, we might be able to push her to become the secular head of the Church of Light."
In the place of the current pope, Pope Hebrew, she will become a relatively progressive religious leader willing to accept new things and, more importantly, favorable to the Valeria Empire.
"Sounds like we went through all the trouble to put a puppet on the throne, and Monica Angelis will be the traitor colluding with foreign officials to sell out her country for personal gain."
Amalia’s bright voice echoed through the bedroom, tinged with a playful finish, an indistinguishable hoarseness wrapped in girlish softness.
Astrid shook her head, pinching the smooth cheek of the golden-haired girl with gentle fingers, speaking in a low, delicate tone.
"Amalia... there’s no need to be so harsh."
"It’s not Monica who’s the real traitor. It’s the nobles who sent millions of young people to die spreading on the battlefield under the pretense of faith and reclaiming land, using patriotic rhetoric to brainwash the masses and start foreign wars when in fact they’re just diverting attention from internal distribution conflicts."
"They robbed the country, the concept of the nation that is supposed to serve the people, and sold it out for their own vested interests, disregarding the lives of the common people."
This unjust war had not only harmed the Valeria Empire, it had left an indelible pain on the common folk of the Kingdom of Velys.
For the sake of a scheme manufactured by the upper echelons, millions of commoners lost their most treasured relatives and friends; The shadow of death hangs over many households. So-called precious lives, ground by the war’s meat grinder, were reduced to statistics, consumables tossed into a furnace leaving only a wisp of smoke.
As the Empire’s sovereign, Amalia understood this plainly. She didn’t argue with Astrid; instead she obediently leaned her cheek into her sister’s fingers, letting Astrid enjoy the feeling of pinching her face.
"Yes, I know."
A noble like Astrid, full of compassion and love for the common people who bore them, was a genuine anomaly, whether in the Kingdom of Velys or the Valeria Empire.
But as Astrid’s lover and a faithful executor of her will, Amalia simply tried to indulge whatever world her sister wanted. She didn’t care about anything else, people, the world, none of it mattered.
The only thing that mattered was the person holding her, the one who warmed her with arms and the press of knees, the sole provider of warmth and tenderness.
After long discussions about installing Monica into power and subsequent means of control, Amalia reached a very favorable conclusion to them.
If Astrid truly could end the war between the two countries, correct the Church of Light’s deviant doctrines, and, according to Monica’s wishes, bring magitech devices into the Kingdom of Velys, then this Saintess of Light’s loyalty would doubtlessly reach its peak.
There was a very good chance Astrid wouldn’t even need to demand an oath of fealty, the coquettish saint, so eager to serve the Lord, would willingly become the God’s agent’s obedient dog, entirely devoted to Astrid and eager to be rewarded.
"..."
For some reason, at the thought of this possibility, Amalia felt an odd, slight displeasure well up. Her fair toes spread slightly beneath the reinforced white stockings, making the fabric just a little sheer.
Perhaps it was that this Saintess of Light didn’t feel like a saint at all, she bore the Church of Light’s visage, yet felt anything but proper.
If Monica were to become Astrid’s follower, she’d likely want to serve her mistress on every possible level at all times.
Still, Amalia knew the difference between public and private; the small irritation passed in a moment. Monica, as a devout believer in an omniscient Lord who mistakenly received Astrid as divinely favored, truly offered the best outcome for both of them and the Empire.
"Then I’ll loosen my reins and start preparing for the commercial activities in advance," Amalia said.
The current royal craft teams were nowhere near sufficient, if she wanted to satisfy both domestic and foreign demand, she needed more people and more raw materials.
"Do as you see fit."
Astrid wrapped an arm around Amalia’s waist; two soft, abundant mounds pressed against her back, Astrid’s warmth and heartbeat conveyed through a layer of silk nightclothes, telling Amalia, in the truest way, that she was there.
"I’ll always be supporting you, Amalia."
Both emotional and economic, the two, whose intimacy had grown to this level, had long since learned to support one another.
Hearing her sister’s gentle voice and feeling that smooth pressure against her back, Amalia’s hand slides over Astrid’s stocking-clad legs. The two white-stockinged feet rested on the bed and lifted to nestle against her lover, like ink and snowfish, dappling the pond that was the bed, keeping each other company.
"Sister."
"I’m here..."
Are you rested?
Astrid’s red eyes narrowed slightly; she guessed what Amalia planned to do.
That girl... she was really like a little cat who could never be satisfied...
Astrid picked up the teacup on the bedside table and sipped a bit of black tea, replenishing the moisture she’d lost earlier. She then felt Amalia’s hand travel from thigh to knee.
"Then... let’s continue..."
"...Love me~"
With that, the golden-haired, white-dressed girl turned and looked at Astrid mid-sip; Seeing the way Astrid drank, the curve of her lips grew even more pronounced.
It seemed her sister wasn’t much better... also losing composure often...
Thinking that, Amalia planted her hand on Astrid’s smooth, stocking-clad thigh and tilted her face up, and the two drank the sweet tea, milk and sugar added together.
The dim light remained; the faint, sensuous sound of movement echoed in the room. After a long while the sounds died down, replaced by soft, nightingale-like hums.
The woman who would one day wield more power in imperial domestic affairs did not let the sister she loved release herself this time.
.................
Kingdom of Velys, Seville City, Princess Iris Kroyd dressed in brown-gray leather and deerskin boots, came to bid the King farewell.
"Father, I will do everything I can to placate Duke Karina, to get her to heed the royal decree and not act rashly."
Hearing his daughter’s promise, the old man on the throne nodded, speaking softly.
"Go then, my daughter."
"May you travel safely."
Watching Iris leave the palace, the King of Velys remained seated on his throne. His eyes lingered on the palace’s main gate and on the single beam of light that slanted through the crack door and spread across the deep-red carpet.
In the war against the Valeria Empire, the Kingdom of Velys had poured vast resources into the campaign, but because of repeated defeats they failed to seize anything of value. The enemy’s counterpush before winter had pushed the front back to the ruins of Liya Fortress. Velys had gained no land, no livestock, no grain, no people.
By the kingdom’s historical standards, this was an unacceptable catastrophe. The situation was so dire that the kingdom could not even maintain the bare minimum of domestic propaganda.
In plain terms: there was nothing to boast about. After half a year of offensives, there were no spoilers to show.
The offensive momentum suppressed by blizzards leads to a string of social problems. The royal prestige disappeared; the treasure lay bare; the economy, shifted by war, plunged. Large numbers of people were displaced.
This failure hurt not only the common people but also parts of the nobility who had invested troops and money and earned nothing in return. The Kingdom of Velys had become a powder keg; one tiny spark could set it off.
That spark wasn’t hard to find. A few days earlier a plague broke out in a border town. Its transmissibility and lethality were not to be underestimated, and it quickly spread to several neighboring cities.
The patients showed symptoms similar to those seen earlier in the Valeria Empire: an initial chill-like cough and fever, later developing swollen limbs, coughing up blood, and ultimately death.
To prevent further spread, the King ordered the nobles of the afflicted town and neighboring territories to shut down external transport and isolate the towns for treatment, and he symbolically requested that the Church of Light send more aid.
Although they had just suffered a major defeat, the Church of Light still sent the Saintess of Light to lead the relief effort. But the plague was fierce and difficult; the Church’s people couldn’t effectively cure the sickness, only delay its spread as best they could. Deaths from the contagion rose daily.
When news spread that the Church of Light couldn’t cure the plague, panic set in. Many refugees tried to flee their lands to survive, spreading the disease further.
The royal family, already stripped of credibility, was helpless against the plague. The internal conflicts that had not been resolved by foreign diversion intensified with the military failure: royal vs. nobles, nobles vs. commoners, Church vs. secular authorities. The political powder keg ignited.
Nobles in the southwestern disaster zone publicly announced they no longer took orders from the King and will take self-help measures.
Southeastern war nobles on the border with the Valeria Empire seized the chance to attack, accusing the court of hoarding supplies and placing the blame for the military failure on the King, trying to redirect the anger of the commoners away from themselves.
Nobles not far from the capital in the north still had complaints but remained on the sidelines, watching. Distant nobles had already petitioned the King to reduce taxes and annual tribute.
The place Princess Iris was headed was Duke Karina, one of the northern nobles. Once a royal supporter, she had become ambiguous in her loyalties since the war began. The King needed someone to calm her, at least for now, to prevent more chaos.
The man with the crown felt exhausted and powerless thinking of the Valeria Empire, which, after months of recovery, now watched from the north like a tiger. He gripped the scepter with both hands.
The Kingdom of Velys could no longer muster an expeditionary force to strike the Valeria Empire. But as the war’s aggressor, that grinding meat machine they had started wouldn’t stop simply because they wanted it to.
Why had it come to this...
Why had the previous emperor suddenly died and left a powerless empress? Why had the ostensibly weak Valeria Empire held its ground? Why had even Pope Hebrew’s organized attacks been halted at White Maple Town?
It ran counter to everything he’d expected.
At this moment, they should have already occupied the Valeria northern line, brewing beer from stolen barley and eating animals taken by force.
One missing piece, be it magitech, the new emperor’s astute control, or the border nobles’ excellent campaign command, and Velys should never have lost so shamefully.
It simply shouldn’t have happened.
He closed his eyes and the morning’s military reports surfaced in his mind.
Worse yet, the Church of Light seemed indifferent to the royal plight...