Chapter 181 - The Logic of Power




When Philip IV declared that preparations for invasion were complete, Prince Alfonso gritted his teeth and looked back.

“Princess Auguste de Briand. And Your Majesty King Philip IV. ..Do you know what you are talking about?”

Instead of Philippe, who kept his mouth shut and only smiled faintly, the proud Auguste answered proudly.

“It’s to avenge my aunt! The noble blood of the Briand dynasty flows because the palace was not properly maintained.”

She looked Prince Alfonso up and down, her eyes appraising.

“Prince Alfonso, if you are a member of Briand, you should be angry.”

Princess Auguste added with a faint smile.

“Aren’t you the one who lost your mother because of that dirty government, Prince Alfonso de Carlo?”

Alfonso answered slowly.

“...That’s right.”

This is the only thing Auguste said today that was true.

“That’s true. I’m the one who will be most saddened by my mother’s death. That’s why I can say it most confidently.”

Alfonso strode back to the conference table, placed both hands on the marble, lowered his upper body, and glared at Auguste, who was chirping like an excited sardine.

“Stop talking nonsense. It is not a confirmed fact that Queen Marguerite died because of Countess Rubina de Como.”

Auguste was startled by Alfonso's fierce momentum and pulled her butt back.

She was sitting on a backless stool placed right next to the King, rather than the formal chair reserved for council members.

Auguste almost fell off the chair as she crawled backward on the stool.

“Whoa!”

She lost her balance and let out a short scream. At Princess Auguste's embarrassment, Philip IV's mask-like expression broke instantly.

“Alfonso de Carlo.”

He called Prince Alfonso in a growling tone.

He stretched out his long arms toward the Princess, blocking the Prince's path as if he was protecting the Princess.

“Luxury items like accurate facts can only be discussed in times of peace.”

He spoke half-singing, half-growling like a wolf.

“Well, with a division of troops, including the Montpellier Heavy Cavalry Division, crossing your border, it would be difficult to go into detail.”

Philip IV no longer hid his inner feelings.

If it were the usual Philip, he would have put up a cushion by saying, 'In a situation where the army is mobilized, both military supplies and public sentiment are important, so a quick decision is important.'

But Prince Alfonso did not back down even after seeing Philip's true intentions. There was nowhere to retreat.

“Your Majesty Philip IV. Do you know what is more important than power in international relations?”

“There’s no way that could happen.”

Despite Philip's complaints, he answered firmly.

“A cause.”

Prince Alfonso looked straight at Philip IV and said.

“If the monarch of the Yesak Sect were to invade another Yesak Sect monarchy for a reason that no one could understand, the Holy Emperor and the Central Continent countries would not tolerate that situation in the long term.”

Philip IV frowned. Prince Alfonso's argument was valid.

Philip IV did not support the 'holy war' for nothing.

They promised financial support to help lubricate the Holy See Shrine.

But Pope Louis was not a pushover. He was a great man who could take money as money and excommunicate as excommunicate.

"So?"

The King answered immediately so as not to show that he was troubled.

But the very fact that he answered was evidence of his agitation. Alfonso glared sharply at Philippe.

“Until the charges against Countess Rubina de Como are established, the demands of the Kingdom of Gallico will be questionable.”

But the young King was more experienced than the young Prince. At Alfonso's words, a broad smile appeared on Philip IV's face.

Prince Alfonso was secretly puzzled by Philip's change of attitude, which was the exact opposite of what he had expected.

“...How can we believe in the Etruscan kingdom?”

Philip IV ran his long fingers across the marble table.

“This is a marble table. It is a specialty of Mount Raster, in the northern Etruscan region.”

White marbling was visible through the soft pink sheen.

“But within the kingdom of Gallico, if I say, ‘This is a specialty of Gallico,’ then it becomes a specialty of Gallico.”

Philippe looked at Alfonso intently.

“If the power of the King is strong enough, it can disguise not only unverifiable facts like origin but also clearly visible characteristics. For example, materials. If I claim that this is not a marble table but a granite table, then to those under my influence it will be a granite table. Call it sandstone, clay, wood, whatever I want.”

Philip IV looked at Alfonso with a broad smile.

“This is not a privilege that I alone possess. It is a power that any monarch with a strong crown exercises. Your father and my dear former uncle, King Leo III, were in the same position.”

A few scenes of Leo III's stubbornness flashed through Alfonso's mind.

“Besides, he is in a hurry. He needs to clear Countess Rubina of any suspicions. Even if I were the Etruscan King, I would frantically search for reasons why Countess Rubina is innocent. How can I trust the Etruscan judicial system in such a situation?”

The young King of the Kingdom of Gallico slammed his right hand on the marble table.

“Send Countess Rubina here too. We will handle the trial.”

Count Marquez, sitting next to Prince Alfonso, whispered under his breath.

“That’s nonsense...!”

Princess Auguste glared at Count Marquez with a fierce gaze.

But Philip IV showed his usual relaxed smile, oblivious to the commotion around him.

His serpentine gaze searched Prince Alfonso.

“Oh, that’s right, my dear little cousin.”

The next in line to the throne of the Etruscan kingdom, a place that was not even accessible to children.

He was dancing like a puppet in his hands. Philippe smiled happily and threw the dagger.

“Aren’t you an ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary?”

An 'ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary' was a diplomatic envoy who had the authority to make decisions without the approval of his home country.

The Central Continent was slow in the movement of goods and people. It took up to three months to cross the vast continent on horseback.

So when a diplomatic envoy was sent abroad for important negotiations, he was given the title of 'Vicar of the state'.

It was a position created to ensure the stability of negotiations, as there was a fear that the King would arbitrarily overturn the results of negotiations when the envoys returned to their home country.

Leo III did not grant his son, Prince Alfonso, the title of 'Vicar of the State'.

“You can’t make any decisions without your father’s permission! It’s okay, I understand. There’s nothing a young son can do without his father’s trust.”

Alfonso's face turned red. He was gritting his teeth in shame and chewing the flesh inside his mouth.

It tasted like blood. Alfonso wanted to punch him in the face.

But he could not quite tell whether the person he wanted to punch in the face was King Philip IV in front of him or His Majesty the King at home.

Prince Alfonso managed to keep his composure as he spoke.

“...I will return home immediately and convey the demands of the Kingdom of Gallico to my father.”

But the King of Gallico did not give in to even that so easily.

“Return home?”

Philip was on the verge of bursting out laughing as if he were watching a court jester's comedy.

“How can this be the land of your mother! How can it be bitter if you go back so quickly?”

Auguste intervened.

“Especially, I grant you permission to send envoys to your kingdom.”

A spark flew from Alfonso's eyes at the word 'permission'. Philippe stopped Auguste.

“Permission? That is ridiculous. How dare we call the heir to the throne of the great Etruscan kingdom to come and go!”

Here, Auguste could no longer stand it and burst out laughing. Philippe continued the play without paying any attention.

“But I can’t let my cousin go. You came all this way, so I have to treat you with the utmost respect! Play the music! Ha, haha, hahahahahahaha!”

But in the end, he just held his stomach and laughed.

Philip and Auguste burst into laughter, the courtiers flanking them snickered, and the officials stared at the Etruscan trio with icy coldness.

Before him, Prince Alfonso and the two Etruscan nobles simply stood there, gritting their teeth and turning pale.

“Now, let us invite our honored guest to his quarters.”

Philip gave the order. It was an order to expel the guests.

In an instant, about twenty knights of the guard surrounded Prince Alfonso and the two nobles.

Alfonso roughly shook off the knight who had approached him closest.

“Let go of my hand. I’ll go on my own two feet.”

***

The one chosen from Prince Alfonso's entourage to return home was Count Marquez.

“Your Highness, how are you going to survive here without me...!”

Count Marquez was the only diplomat in the group. He was also an experienced and seasoned man.

Sir Bernardino was also experienced and prudent, but his career as an aide and as a diplomat was quite different.

But Prince Alfonso shook his head.

“There’s not much we can do here with diplomacy right now.”

That was right.

“If there is any way for us to break through, it is to persuade His Majesty the King at home.”

Sir Bernardino, Sir Manfredi, and the bandaged Sir Elko all agreed with that statement.

“Five hundred thousand gold ducatos is ridiculous. But we must somehow appease Philip IV. That will require political tact, and concessions and sacrifices from His Majesty the King.”

Sir Bernardino remained silent. Leo III's concessions and sacrifices.

“Of all those present, you, Count Marquez, are the one best equipped to bring about His Majesty’s decision.”

Count Marquez hung his head, feeling complicated at the thought of leaving the little Prince and the young knights of his age behind to escape the enemy lines alone.

“How...!”

“Don’t think like that. Go back and convince my father. There is no one else who can turn this situation around but you.”

Alfonso took Count Marquez's hand.

“Please.”

Count Marquez nodded slowly.

“God, Anselmo de Marquez. I will obey your command with all my heart.”

***

Thus, Count Marquez, accompanied by the five cavalry regiments of the Prince, crossed the Prinoyac Mountains in twelve days, despite his youthful body.

It was a journey that took a full month from the Etruscan kingdom to Gallico.

“It is said, Your Majesty the King.”

Count Marquez, having told everything that had happened, knelt before Leo III.

He came straight to the palace and requested an audience without even washing up.

Count Marquez, on the verge of collapse, shouted to Leo III with the last of his strength.

“Save His Highness the Prince, save our nation, save our young people imprisoned in Gallico!”

And Leo III did not answer.


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