<Episode 566> Unspoken Goodness
While Alfonso was fighting on the battlefield of Yesak, Leo III had resented the absence of his son's letters at every moment Rubina mentioned the Prince. But today, he realized firsthand that no news is good news.
"What? You mean a lion is coming down from Trevero?"
Faithful to his role as regent governing the capital, Prince Alfonso meticulously wrote a report on the guests visiting San Carlo for an audience with Leo III and sent it via a fast messenger.
The Prince's messenger rode through the night, changing horses at every relay station, to overtake Trevero's envoys. This was a thoughtful gesture, intended to prevent Leo III from being flustered by the sudden visit from Trevero.
However, what Alfonso received in return was Leo III's irritation and anger.
"This wicked son should have handled it himself, but he's passing the credit to his father?!"
Leo III was furious. He felt as though his head were going to explode at the fact that he had to groan in frustration while sitting before someone he could not control, like an envoy.
Alfonso had not passed on the menial task of refusing to him; he had simply refrained from exercising his final decision-making authority out of respect for the King.
However, Leo III, now old and losing his sharp intellect, could not understand his son's deep consideration at all.
"So you're telling me to be the one saying the unpleasant things!"
He skimmed through the report.
It contained several important details.
The main points were that an envoy had arrived from Trevero requesting reinforcements, that Gallico's troops appeared to be actually assembling at the border, and that he had replied he could not respond to the request for support without his father's permission.
Prince Alfonso devoted a significant portion of the report to the results of reconnaissance regarding the size and types of Gallico's forces, as well as the identity of their commander.
[... A point of concern is that Gallico's forces include the Montpellier Heavy Knights and siege weapons. There is a possibility that the commander of the Kingdom of Gallico may cross our kingdom's border to ensure the smooth movement of the siege weapons and the preservation of the Heavy Knights.
Based on observations so far, the most senior commander on the opposing side is the Count of Levien. He has a reputation for being reasonable and cautious, so it is believed that there will be no impulsive actions...]
What Leo III read from this flood of information was truly meaningless.
"Our Kingdom!"
The old king scoffed. His anxiety had already been self-inflicted since he had left San Carlo in the care of the young Prince.
As the tour of Taranto dragged on, Leo III could not shake the feeling that the kingdom's capital was in the Prince's grasp.
He was tormented by the feeling that he himself had been exiled to a second city, while the Prince was actually controlling the most important matters. To his ears, those words sounded as if they implied co-rule.
"Should I be grateful that he didn't write 'my kingdom'?"
"Your Majesty, 'our kingdom' is merely an idiom. a phrase used even by mere subjects."
Lord Delpianosa, unable to stand it any longer, stepped forward to stop him.
"Even I, who have no connection to the throne, even if I were to circle the central continent five times, use these words. Please remain calm."
The King got annoyed.
"Delphianossa! Whose side are you on, anyway!"
While Lord Delpianosa stepped back slightly, Leo III shook the parchment scroll sent by his son.
It contained a vast amount of information, but the one thing the King wanted to know was missing.
"Didn't those Trevero bastards even offer anything in return for the reinforcements?"
Nowhere on the Prince's parchment could one find any mention of what would be given in exchange for the dispatch of troops.
"So, the envoy the Pope sent is just asking for reinforcements for free, right?"
"Certainly, there is no preemptive offer..."
"Your attitude when making the request is terrible, your attitude!"
Depending on the outcome of the negotiations, there was much to be gained from Trevero, but Leo III found everything bothersome these days.
He was now indifferent even to the gunpowder he had so ardently desired. Unless the Pope could grant him eternal life and a spring of inexhaustible vitality, he wanted to decline even an audience with the Pope.
With the intention of refusing whatever the envoys from Trevero requested, Leo III asked Sir Delpianosa.
"When did they say they would arrive?"
"Judging by the speed at which they are traveling, they are expected to arrive this evening at the earliest, or by dawn tomorrow at the latest."
It was just past three in the afternoon. Leo III began to fidget.
"If I arrived after sunset, at least I could use the excuse that I went inside to sleep!"
Wait, who says one must only sleep at night? He was a king. That meant others had to adjust to his schedule.
As he got older, the moment he mentioned 'health,' it became an excuse for everything. That was the only good thing about getting old.
"No. Just say I went back home early to rest today, and cancel my entire afternoon schedule."
"Then, shall I schedule an audience for tomorrow morning?"
"Ah, Delpianosa. You still don't understand my feelings?"
Leo III was furious at Delpianosa, who was not getting smarter no matter how much he taught him.
"Tomorrow is Sunday! Sunday! A day to take a break from all work while giving thanks for the protection of the Heavenly God!"
Lord Delpianosa just gaped like a fish.
'It's the Heavenly God's apostle coming down begging to be saved...'
Leo III answered perfectly, as if he had read Lord Delpianosa's mind.
"The people of Trevero are the Heavenly Lord's foremost servants, so they must observe the Heavenly Lord's commandments better than anyone else!"
Sunday is a day off! And for the envoys of Trevero, it is an even greater day off!
The King rose from his office. Since his afternoon duties were completely cleared, he briefly considered going to see his mistress. However, at that moment, Rubina's countermeasure worked brilliantly.
Isabella's quarters were located in a place with many eyes watching. If the King holed up there and refused an audience with the Trevero envoys, he would become the subject of unnecessary gossip.
"Eek."
Even if he summoned Isabella to the King's chambers, the result would be the same. He soothed his regret with the weight of his closing eyelids.
At this age, rest was as precious as women. No, in most cases, rest was better. Isabella was remarkable for making Leo III overcome his annoyance and drag his aging body to come see her.
"Just make sure the envoys get a good tour of Taranto, so they don't get into trouble later. Make sure they don't run into Bianca, as she might bring up the topic of direct support."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I'll be going now. Let's not meet for the next 36 hours."
"...Yes, Your Majesty."
***
"Get off the ship!'
Viscountess Irene Panamere was kicked off the ship almost like a piece of cargo rolling off. She didn't even see Rubina's face. The captain of the cruise ship glared at Irene.
"Lifeboat hijackers are usually executed on board, so consider yourself lucky!"
Rubina, who was driving Irene out, ordered that she be kept in close watch to ensure she did not jump into the sea, but Viscountess Panamere had no intention of carrying out such a shoddy operation.
Driven onto the deck, she gathered her men and charged directly toward the lifeboats.
A deckhand spotted the Manchike people and shouted, and the chief and all the laborers moving around rushed to help.
The achievements of the handful of Manchike people were illustrious. Even the entire deckhand force was not enough, so the captain drafted some of the ship's crew to join the battle, and even the laborers from the ship's basement had to come out.
However, they could not win against their numerical inferiority. The Manchike people were tied up tightly and confined to the ship's deck, where the laborers were gathered, only to be driven out as soon as they arrived.
This was tantamount to a mutiny on board, but Rubina could not bring herself to order the beheading of the Manchike people, considering her own actions.
"Royal kidnappers also to death...!"
One of Manchike's retainers attempted to rush forward, but Irene grabbed his shoulder. Instead, she glared at the captain with eyes that shone like will-o'-the-wisps.
Intimidated by the Viscountess's commanding presence, the captain took a step or two back, then muttered some useless curses as he entered.
"Now is not the time to waste time fighting with a bastard like that."
She had no intention of fighting the captain. She had to find a ship somehow and return to Dolphin Island.
The Viscountess divided her men into two groups, personally leading one of them to begin visiting ship owners at the docks without a plan. However, the reactions were unfavorable.
"What? Setting sail now? Are you crazy? It's almost 4 PM. Today is Saturday!"
"I will pay you whatever the amount. Please, please!"
"That's enough, no problem!"
When she went to see the seventh ship owner after being inexplicably turned away, an elderly woman interfered. She seemed to feel sorry for the pretty-looking Irene, who spoke with a foreign accent.
"Young foreign lady, stop going through unnecessary trouble. The sea route to Dolphin Island is rougher than it looks, so small boats won't want to sail at this time."
"Where can I get a big boat? I really don't care how much it costs!"
"Don't go around saying things like that! You'll just get scammed! Big ships have their schedules fully booked, so they can't just suddenly gather a crew and head out on a Saturday evening."
Irene ignored the old lady and began to beg the middle-aged man sitting in the largest chair in the office.
"Do you really not have a single one, Captain?"
"It is true that there isn't a single one!"
An old woman chimed in from the side. Just as Irene was about to get annoyed, a middle-aged man sitting in a chair gestured with his chin.
"That person is the ship owner."
Irene flinched and lowered her head. Out of a desire to apologize to the old lady, she had carved out time from her busy schedule to listen to the old man's lecture to the end.
According to the old lady, the ship owner explained that small boats only departed for Dolphin Island in the morning so they could return before sunset, while all the merchant ships in the area, large enough to sail to Dolphin Island at night, had pre-set schedules
"Who knows, there might be an empty boat in the coffin..."
Irene's second plan was also related to the ship the coffin possessed. Just as they were listening to the old lady's long speech, the first group of retainers Irene had sent away rode back on horseback.
Their destination was the Winter Palace. They were the personnel sent to seek the help of Leo III.
"It is said that His Majesty Leo III has gone to bed early due to a lack of strength, so an audience is impossible!"
"I knew it."
Irene was already staying at the dock herself to search for the shipowners, harboring an ominous, yet extremely reasonable, suspicion that Leo III would be of no help.
Now, Irene had two options. The first was to return to the former Grand Duchess Rubina and persuade her that the cruise ship they had arrived on must set sail immediately.
"His own son is on that deserted island, too!"
If she persuades him well by citing his son's safety, he might be able to put reason into Rubina's hardened ears.
'If I were the late Princess Consort, I wouldn't be able to sleep! What if she were captured by pirates? No, who knows what kind of wild beasts might be on that island!'
However, today's Rubina seemed like someone possessed by something. It seemed impossible to reason with her at all.
Irene's second option was, in fact, someone she was not sure would help her.
'We have no acquaintance with them, and there is no reason for them to be favorable toward us...'
She didn't seem to be the type to take an active political stance. In fact, logically speaking, it would be strange to help her. However, she had a strange hunch that this might be the only way out.
"Guys, let's go."
"Where to, Viscountess?"
"We are now going to the Duke of Taranto's castle."
Viscount Panamere mounted the horse brought by her subordinate. Two subordinates with horses followed behind her.
"Have you made an appointment with the Duke, Viscountess?"
"There's no such thing! You just have to hit the wall!"
Bianca of Taranto. In this beautiful harbor built of red sandstone, she was the only person who could command a ship on her own orders, aside from the dock captains and the palace staff of the winter palace.
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