The question Marquis Baldessar posed was actually what the Black Helmet Knights were.
Until then, no one had given it much thought, thinking it was the Prince's Knights or the Kingdom's Knights. Isn't that a good thing? A free knights' order to protect the nation.
How could it be so wonderful that the greatest power in the Central Continent suddenly appeared to defend the Etruscan Kingdom without paying a single penny in taxes? It was the arrival of the knightly order, beloved by all, and with no one to lose.
But once cracks began to appear, the current structure was revealed to have numerous holes.
“The state is not the one bearing the cost of what is called the regular army of the Etruscan kingdom.”
Sir Delpiano trembled slightly at Marquis Baldessar's direct attack. "Shut up! Shut up!"
But Count Marquez, a useless loyalist, insisted on speaking frankly again.
“Until now, the Prince’s palace has been personally covering the expenses.”
Leo III asked slowly, frowning at his thick white hair.
"However?"
That Andante was ominous. Sir Delpiano's internal screams grew louder. Shut up!
Marquis Baldessar, who had been the one to bring up the subject but had not intended to speak so directly, glanced at his colleague with pupils dilated by the earthquake.
But Count Marquez was woefully oblivious.
“Prince Alfonso has no official military title.”
At these words, Leo III's speech quickened. He shouted at Count Marquez like a machine gun, his voice booming from the pit of his stomach.
“What do you want to say to me right now?”
This was a signal that even Count Marquez, no matter how oblivious, could not help but understand. He quickly shut his mouth and lowered his head.
Count Marquez's original intention was to appoint Prince Alfonso as commander-in-chief of the Etruscan Kingdom's army. If so, the issue of membership in the Black Helmet Knights would be resolved in one fell swoop.
But if he continued to speak, he felt as if he would be struck by lightning. Even the unyielding Count Marquez could see what would happen to him.
“Your Majesty, we are all just anxious.”
Sir Delpiano intervened smoothly.
“Because the heavy cavalry is right near the capital.”
He successfully changed the subject to the point that the problems raised by the Marquis Baldessar and the Count of Marquez were not caused by Leo III, but by other factors.
“After all, wouldn’t it be unpleasant to have an army of unknown affiliation near your home?”
There was a reason he had been eating near Leo III for so long.
However, even Delpiano failed to attribute the incident to the unfortunate circumstances rather than the clear fault of others. Depending on the listener, there was room to judge that Prince Alfonso was at fault, however faintly.
And Leo III has the harshest ears in all of San Carlo on this subject.
'Ha, Your Majesty, you shouldn't just blame the Prince.'
Sir Delpiano nervously wiggled his toes inside his shoes. He'd learned to relieve his anxiety by moving his fingers, since they'd be noticeable.
In silence, three people trembled, and one of them rolled the ball around.
The position of Commander-in-Chief of the Etruscan Kingdom is currently vacant.
Although there were generals for each branch of the army, due to the nature of the Etruscan kingdom, which did not have a standing army, these were merely honorary positions shared among a few high lords.
The infantry general is the Marquis Guatieri, the leader of the East.
Guatieri is now a sick man, confined to his own territory. He is not on the border, nor is he accompanied by infantry.
He's neither a soldier nor an infantryman, yet he's a general of infantry. This is the keyword that best describes the current situation.
The situation was similar for the cavalry general and the artillery general. The cavalry general had no horses, the artillery general had no cannons, and the soldiers were equally scarce for everyone.
The cavalry general didn't even have anyone to become a general. The position was vacant.
It was a position held by the previous Duke of Taranto, but no one had been appointed to it since his death. There was no need for it, as the war was waged by the condottieros anyway.
'Shouldn't we appoint Prince Alfonso as commander-in-chief?'
It was the prevailing public opinion in the capital.
They heard the King had quarreled with the Prince and cut off the palace's budget. It might be embarrassing to cut it off and then immediately restore it due to public opinion. The San Carlo nobles fully understood that.
Then, all that was needed was to appoint him as commander-in-chief and allocate the funds for the Knights Templar to the national defense budget instead of the Prince's palace budget.
If that were the case, the money spent on food, shelter, clothing, staff, repairs, and even dogs and horses in the palace would be a fortune, but that wasn't the nobles' concern. The Prince would have to decide whether he starve or not.
It's a common story for mercenaries who haven't received their pay to suddenly turn into bandits and plunderers. San Carlo, as it is now, could never withstand the attacks of the Black Helmet Knights.
All the people of San Carlo needed was a guarantee that the damned army stationed right under their noses would not suddenly invade the capital one day.
“Ugh...”
Leo III belatedly shed his sorrow.
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure it out. That annoying son of his had rebelled. My own son!
It's me who's been wronged! It's me who's pitiful!
Any loyal subject should have risen up and denounced Alfonso. But why on earth was this damned public opinion so hostile to him, the mere victim?
The King slowly opened his mouth. "I'm old, so this is about it. If something similar had happened to me when I was younger, I would have started by throwing the questionnaire on the desk."
“...I have been in power for almost 30 years, but I just can’t understand this public sentiment.”
"What kind of real public sentiment is that? People don't have any specific demands or anything like that."
Sir Delpiano quickly intervened. This was the secret to his longevity.
“Don’t think too deeply, Your Majesty. It will all pass.”
Beside him, Count Marquez let out a long sigh, perhaps a sigh of relief or a sigh of disappointment. Sir Delpiano pretended not to notice. "I saved your life."
While some might see it as the work of a traitor, it was actually for everyone's benefit. When Leo III became absorbed in something, he created extraordinary problems. In his long experience, the best solution was to prevent the King from even thinking.
When both Marquez and Baldassar fell silent, Leo III, at a loss for words, vented his anger on the air.
“Anyway, I don’t like it at all!”
No one could speak directly to Leo III, not even the members of the Council of Three. Nor did the King have any other channels of communication.
The King, therefore, did not listen to Count Marquez's first proposal, namely, to appoint Alfonso as commander-in-chief.
Nor was the second, quite reasonable proposal the Count had made in case this had been rejected, that His Majesty the King should concurrently hold the office of Commander-in-Chief, and that Prince Alfonso should be appointed General of the Cavalry, thereby admitting the Knights of the Black Helmets into the regular national standing army.
Moreover, he lost the opportunity to accurately convey the public's desire to have the Knights of the Black Helmets accepted as a national standing army and funded by the state, thus preventing the possibility of the Knights Templar turning into a mercenary band of condottieri or even a personal raiding band of Countess Ariadne de Mare.
However, the old and experienced King did not run the country by playing a trump card.
Leo III, simply by reading the hints and atmosphere surrounding him, realized that public opinion was not very favorable at the moment and that the reason for this was not only the issue of the Knights Templar, but also his relationship with his son.
“I’ll try to figure it out, so tell them not to be so noisy.”
Leo III waved his hand nervously, signaling his ministers to leave.
In the past, he would have just gotten up and left, but now that he was old, he didn't have the strength to do that.
'Hey... I'm obediently eating everything the alchemists of the Orte Forest tell me to eat, but why am I in this bad shape?'
The two nobles and Lord Delpiano bowed their heads and retreated, leaving the displeased Leo III alone. Left alone, the old king, distraught, mulled over his options, what he could do.
'Restore the palace budget?'
I didn't want to do it even if I died!
This was a dirty thing that required the son to crawl on his knees from outside the 100-foot building and kiss his father's dirty shoes.
'There's no way around it until Alfonso bends down first!'
So, he devised a way to make his son's relationship with the aristocracy appear favorable without having to give him any money.
'Isn't it enough to just make them feel safe?'
And then a magical trick came to mind.
The King quickly rose from his seat and attempted to pull the rope, but stopped dead in his tracks. A cramp had developed in his thigh. He clutched his leg and trembled for a long time.
A servant came running late in a hurry.
“Your Majesty, are you alright?”
Leo III whispered to his useless servant.
“Rubina, bring Rubina.”
Until then, no one had given it much thought, thinking it was the Prince's Knights or the Kingdom's Knights. Isn't that a good thing? A free knights' order to protect the nation.
How could it be so wonderful that the greatest power in the Central Continent suddenly appeared to defend the Etruscan Kingdom without paying a single penny in taxes? It was the arrival of the knightly order, beloved by all, and with no one to lose.
But once cracks began to appear, the current structure was revealed to have numerous holes.
“The state is not the one bearing the cost of what is called the regular army of the Etruscan kingdom.”
Sir Delpiano trembled slightly at Marquis Baldessar's direct attack. "Shut up! Shut up!"
But Count Marquez, a useless loyalist, insisted on speaking frankly again.
“Until now, the Prince’s palace has been personally covering the expenses.”
Leo III asked slowly, frowning at his thick white hair.
"However?"
That Andante was ominous. Sir Delpiano's internal screams grew louder. Shut up!
Marquis Baldessar, who had been the one to bring up the subject but had not intended to speak so directly, glanced at his colleague with pupils dilated by the earthquake.
But Count Marquez was woefully oblivious.
“Prince Alfonso has no official military title.”
At these words, Leo III's speech quickened. He shouted at Count Marquez like a machine gun, his voice booming from the pit of his stomach.
“What do you want to say to me right now?”
This was a signal that even Count Marquez, no matter how oblivious, could not help but understand. He quickly shut his mouth and lowered his head.
Count Marquez's original intention was to appoint Prince Alfonso as commander-in-chief of the Etruscan Kingdom's army. If so, the issue of membership in the Black Helmet Knights would be resolved in one fell swoop.
But if he continued to speak, he felt as if he would be struck by lightning. Even the unyielding Count Marquez could see what would happen to him.
“Your Majesty, we are all just anxious.”
Sir Delpiano intervened smoothly.
“Because the heavy cavalry is right near the capital.”
He successfully changed the subject to the point that the problems raised by the Marquis Baldessar and the Count of Marquez were not caused by Leo III, but by other factors.
“After all, wouldn’t it be unpleasant to have an army of unknown affiliation near your home?”
There was a reason he had been eating near Leo III for so long.
However, even Delpiano failed to attribute the incident to the unfortunate circumstances rather than the clear fault of others. Depending on the listener, there was room to judge that Prince Alfonso was at fault, however faintly.
And Leo III has the harshest ears in all of San Carlo on this subject.
'Ha, Your Majesty, you shouldn't just blame the Prince.'
Sir Delpiano nervously wiggled his toes inside his shoes. He'd learned to relieve his anxiety by moving his fingers, since they'd be noticeable.
In silence, three people trembled, and one of them rolled the ball around.
The position of Commander-in-Chief of the Etruscan Kingdom is currently vacant.
Although there were generals for each branch of the army, due to the nature of the Etruscan kingdom, which did not have a standing army, these were merely honorary positions shared among a few high lords.
The infantry general is the Marquis Guatieri, the leader of the East.
Guatieri is now a sick man, confined to his own territory. He is not on the border, nor is he accompanied by infantry.
He's neither a soldier nor an infantryman, yet he's a general of infantry. This is the keyword that best describes the current situation.
The situation was similar for the cavalry general and the artillery general. The cavalry general had no horses, the artillery general had no cannons, and the soldiers were equally scarce for everyone.
The cavalry general didn't even have anyone to become a general. The position was vacant.
It was a position held by the previous Duke of Taranto, but no one had been appointed to it since his death. There was no need for it, as the war was waged by the condottieros anyway.
'Shouldn't we appoint Prince Alfonso as commander-in-chief?'
It was the prevailing public opinion in the capital.
They heard the King had quarreled with the Prince and cut off the palace's budget. It might be embarrassing to cut it off and then immediately restore it due to public opinion. The San Carlo nobles fully understood that.
Then, all that was needed was to appoint him as commander-in-chief and allocate the funds for the Knights Templar to the national defense budget instead of the Prince's palace budget.
If that were the case, the money spent on food, shelter, clothing, staff, repairs, and even dogs and horses in the palace would be a fortune, but that wasn't the nobles' concern. The Prince would have to decide whether he starve or not.
It's a common story for mercenaries who haven't received their pay to suddenly turn into bandits and plunderers. San Carlo, as it is now, could never withstand the attacks of the Black Helmet Knights.
All the people of San Carlo needed was a guarantee that the damned army stationed right under their noses would not suddenly invade the capital one day.
“Ugh...”
Leo III belatedly shed his sorrow.
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure it out. That annoying son of his had rebelled. My own son!
It's me who's been wronged! It's me who's pitiful!
Any loyal subject should have risen up and denounced Alfonso. But why on earth was this damned public opinion so hostile to him, the mere victim?
The King slowly opened his mouth. "I'm old, so this is about it. If something similar had happened to me when I was younger, I would have started by throwing the questionnaire on the desk."
“...I have been in power for almost 30 years, but I just can’t understand this public sentiment.”
"What kind of real public sentiment is that? People don't have any specific demands or anything like that."
Sir Delpiano quickly intervened. This was the secret to his longevity.
“Don’t think too deeply, Your Majesty. It will all pass.”
Beside him, Count Marquez let out a long sigh, perhaps a sigh of relief or a sigh of disappointment. Sir Delpiano pretended not to notice. "I saved your life."
While some might see it as the work of a traitor, it was actually for everyone's benefit. When Leo III became absorbed in something, he created extraordinary problems. In his long experience, the best solution was to prevent the King from even thinking.
When both Marquez and Baldassar fell silent, Leo III, at a loss for words, vented his anger on the air.
“Anyway, I don’t like it at all!”
No one could speak directly to Leo III, not even the members of the Council of Three. Nor did the King have any other channels of communication.
The King, therefore, did not listen to Count Marquez's first proposal, namely, to appoint Alfonso as commander-in-chief.
Nor was the second, quite reasonable proposal the Count had made in case this had been rejected, that His Majesty the King should concurrently hold the office of Commander-in-Chief, and that Prince Alfonso should be appointed General of the Cavalry, thereby admitting the Knights of the Black Helmets into the regular national standing army.
Moreover, he lost the opportunity to accurately convey the public's desire to have the Knights of the Black Helmets accepted as a national standing army and funded by the state, thus preventing the possibility of the Knights Templar turning into a mercenary band of condottieri or even a personal raiding band of Countess Ariadne de Mare.
However, the old and experienced King did not run the country by playing a trump card.
Leo III, simply by reading the hints and atmosphere surrounding him, realized that public opinion was not very favorable at the moment and that the reason for this was not only the issue of the Knights Templar, but also his relationship with his son.
“I’ll try to figure it out, so tell them not to be so noisy.”
Leo III waved his hand nervously, signaling his ministers to leave.
In the past, he would have just gotten up and left, but now that he was old, he didn't have the strength to do that.
'Hey... I'm obediently eating everything the alchemists of the Orte Forest tell me to eat, but why am I in this bad shape?'
The two nobles and Lord Delpiano bowed their heads and retreated, leaving the displeased Leo III alone. Left alone, the old king, distraught, mulled over his options, what he could do.
'Restore the palace budget?'
I didn't want to do it even if I died!
This was a dirty thing that required the son to crawl on his knees from outside the 100-foot building and kiss his father's dirty shoes.
'There's no way around it until Alfonso bends down first!'
So, he devised a way to make his son's relationship with the aristocracy appear favorable without having to give him any money.
'Isn't it enough to just make them feel safe?'
And then a magical trick came to mind.
The King quickly rose from his seat and attempted to pull the rope, but stopped dead in his tracks. A cramp had developed in his thigh. He clutched his leg and trembled for a long time.
A servant came running late in a hurry.
“Your Majesty, are you alright?”
Leo III whispered to his useless servant.
“Rubina, bring Rubina.”
Thank you very much
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