Daybreak Volume 4 Chapter 21 – An End and a Beginning

“What did you say?”

Sylviane’s voice dropped to a bare mutter as she replied with stunned disbelief. Her body moved as though in slow motion as she swiveled atop the dresser chair to stare at her betrothed.

Behind her, the Princess’ maid and bodyguard Elspeth stood slack-jawed as she gazed upon Pascal’s reflected image in the dresser mirror. Her fingers slowly lost their grip on a silver hairbrush which fell to the tiled floor with a clang.

“Your Uncle Gabriel did not betray the Empire,” Pascal repeated his solemn words as he stood straight against the footpost of her four-poster bed. “He did what he has done with your father’s knowledge and consent.”

“How?” Sylviane’s question came in little more than a whisper before she could retrain her voice. Yet her follow-up came at an almost shout as she lost control of her pitch:

“HOW could that be possible?”

The Princess retained enough awareness to notice that her response gave even her fiancé pause, despite the fact he was a battlefield veteran who nearly died multiple times. A swallowing motion came from his throat as a faint scowl formed across his lips.

“Your father and your uncle had planned the coup and the civil war beforehand,” Pascal then stated in a firm voice as he stared back with zero doubt in his expression. “Or at the very least, they had planned as much of it as they could, based on what they knew and could predict beforehand, as your father knew that he had only months left to live thanks to his illness and…”

Pascal’s brows frowned with uncertainty for the first time before adding: “I can only describe Gabriel as having a death wish.”

Pascal had told Sylviane about her father’s illness first. That had been a bitter enough pill to swallow by itself, though it at least came on the premise that her father was already dead regardless of the cause. However, to hear that Geoffroi had not been slain in a coup but rather orchestrated his own death, or that the head which she harmed herself to cremate yesterday wasn’t even her father’s…

“But… but!”

Sylviane felt her hands shaking as she wanted to point and denounce Pascal’s words as lies. Yet, she knew deep down that Pascal would only tell her something like this after being completely certain of its truth.

Nevertheless, that did not rule out the possibility of him being deceived.

The Princess turned to stare at Kaede, who answered her unspoken question with a sad but affirmative gaze before looking down. The youthful Samaran whom Sylviane entrusted as her top diplomat also stood certain of Pascal’s facts, which meant…

It’s true then. Sylviane thought to herself as she slumped back into her seat.

My uncle isn’t a murderer and a traitor as I had thought this whole time…

For nearly a minute, the Princess sat unmoving in complete silence with a downcast gaze. Her mind struggled with the implications of this revelation which changed everything that she thought she knew.

Why did nobody tell me? Her thoughts cried out as sadness, anger, regret, denial… There were so many emotions rising up inside her at once, so many screaming voices that they formed a tumultuous cacophony that she could no longer tell apart.

“I was supposed to be the heir apparent!”

Her hands balled into fists as an aggrieved cry emerged from her shaking lips. She could feel a single hot streak of tears falling down her cheeks.

“Why…?”

The Princess demanded with gritted teeth as her eyes cast a death glare upon her future husband. However, Pascal did not flinch from her fury for even a split-second as he calmly responded to her outrage.

“To destroy the moral legitimacy of the Trinitian Church in the eyes of all Lotharins,” he answered with a scowl as he clearly did not approve of such motives. “At least, that is what Gabriel told me last night as the main reason for his crimes.”

Yet, it was this detail that finally excised the lingering denial in Sylviane’s thoughts that it was the indisputable truth.

The Princess leaned back her head and looked up towards the ceiling and the heavens she imagined above before she spoke:

“Father always said that the Trinitian Church is the greatest thorn left behind from the days when the Imperium ruled over us Lotharins.”

It was one of the many reasons why her late father had turned a blind eye towards the Albigensian Heresy in Garona, until the religious turmoil escalated to a point that it began to affect diplomacy and geopolitical statecraft.

“And what of my late sister?” Sylviane heard the sharp soprano of her bodyguard Elspeth ask in the silence that lingered. “Did she also know?”

“We did not speak much of Colonel Lindsay’s involvement in this whole plot. But as His Majesty’s closest guard and confidante, I cannot imagine that she did not know of this,” Pascal could only say in response. “Healer Julien confirmed that she was one of only four people who knew of the Emperor’s illness before the coup. And knowing her unwavering loyalty to His Late Majesty, I can only surmise that she agreed to the martyrdom of her banner to maintain the pretense that this was truly a coup.”

“Sis…”

Sylviane could see Elspeth’s lips trembling in the mirror as large drops of tears fell from her swollen peridot-green gaze. The teenage-looking guardsman, who according to Cecylia had never shed a tear even after walking for hours on a broken leg, suddenly broke down and began to bawl her eyes out like an adolescent kid.

The Princess could feel a new wave of tears spilling forth from her own eyes as the sorrow and loss that she thought she had come to terms with flooded back into her emotional state. She stood up from her dresser and turned towards her maid and bodyguard before enveloping the latter in an all-encompassing hug.

“I promise you that Lindsay will forever be remembered as a martyr of Rhin-Lotharingie,” Sylviane declared as the two girls cried to each other. “She was as much a mentor to me as an elder sister to you. And I shall see that her sacrifice and those of her men will be immortalized through the actions of my reign.”

The Princess did not need an oath to be a just ruler. Yet in making it, it added to the weight on her shoulders from all those who sacrifice themselves for her future reign.

And if she were to repay them, any of them, then she had better work hard to ensure her actions leave a legacy that would resonate through Lotharin history.

Though realistically speaking, Sylviane doubted if the heroic legacy of Colonel Lindsay depended on her own actions. The last stand of the Highland Guard and its commander’s final words had already spread to every tavern through the bards and skalds of Rhin-Lotharingie. The only glorification still missing was an artistic depiction of the scene for the royal citadel’s halls, as well as a constituted Highland Guard with Lindsay’s famous words for its motto and flag.

Nevertheless, merely hearing the vow brought a bittersweet smile back to Elspeth’s tearstained face. The petite girl wiped the streaks of moisture from her cheeks before offering a slight curtsy to the Princess.

“Thank you, Your Highness. No daughter of House Mackay-Martel could ask for a better fate than to be immortalized in the Empire’s history,” the bodyguard stated before taking a knee to issue an oath of her own. “And I swear I shall do no less than my sister did should the day come when I face a similar fate.”

Let’s hope it never comes to that, Sylviane returned a wistful smile as she thought of her previous bodyguard’s fate. She certainly did not wish to lose her closest companion again… especially not when Elspeth was already far too eager to become a ‘hero’ in Lotharin history.

The Princess beckoned for her armiger to stand again before she turned back to face Pascal. And for the first time in months, she addressed Gabriel by their relationship without disdain:

“I need to speak to my uncle.”

Pascal looked towards Kaede first with a slight tilt of his head. Sylviane could only surmise that the young Samaran had been correct about something, before her betrothed turned his gaze back.

“I have already made preparations. Please follow me.”

 

—– * * * —–

 

The ‘preparations’ Pascal made turned out to be several checkpoints manned by discrete and trustworthy security, double-layered wards to ensure that they would not be eavesdropped upon, and an extra cushy chair in the room itself.

And unlike her betrothed, Sylviane had sat down face-to-face with her uncle as she listened to him tell her everything that he had told Pascal the previous night.

“What I don’t understand… is how could my father and you have known that I would even succeed in retaking the throne?” The Princess challenged her uncle after waiting for him to finish recounting his role in this whole ‘act’. “There were so many times and places where I, where we could have failed,” she gestured towards Pascal and Kaede who also sat and stood inside the room.

Only Elspeth had been left outside to ensure that they would not be disturbed. Meanwhile, Reynaud and her other armigers held watch over the dungeons’ entrance and perimeter.

“Wait, Is that why His Majesty sent Sylviane and me to Nordkreuz after the Caliphate invaded?” Pascal suddenly asked.

“Yes.” Gabriel nodded. “Geoffroi surmised that if Sylviane personally aided the Weichsens, then King Leopold would most likely return the favor and offer her at least some troops to help retake the throne. Meanwhile, you had just inherited your father’s substantial wealth and had the resources to not only bankroll a campaign, but also to hire mercenaries to make up for any shortfalls.”

It reminded Sylviane of the conversation they had with the late Emperor, where Geoffroi had questioned exactly where Pascal stood on the political scale. Her betrothed had declared then that he would be faithful to the interests of both Rhin-Lotharingie and Weichsel, which likely solidified her father’s trust in Pascal to help her after she lost her path to the throne.

“We also knew that Duke Matthias of Baguette was loyal to the crown and maintained a substantial garrison at the border,” Gabriel added next. “Our original plan was based on the belief that Sylviane would lead an invasion of Belgae with the forces of Duke Matthias, soldiers provided by King Leopold, and whatever men King Alistair could bring from the north. We did not even know at the time that you had attained the support of Matthias’ grandson.”

“I didn’t either, at the time,” Sylviane responded before leaning back with a sigh. “It was only after your ‘coup’ that I truly became acquainted with Perceval.”

The Princess then sighed before glancing up at the stone ceiling of the dungeon cell.

“The Holy Father truly works in mysterious ways,” she said.

A deep scowl formed across Gabriel’s lips as he stared back with distaste as though he could not disagree more. Nevertheless, he did say a word more before Pascal interjected to fill the silence.

“Then, having taken all of the supplies from Belgae when you left, you would force march your army back in haste, which creates an opportunity for me to defeat you on the battlefield,” Pascal stared back as he finished.

“Yes.” Gabriel nodded. “By forcing me to turn my army around, I would have had no chance to dig in, while you would have gained the initiative to predetermine and prepare your battleground. Geoffroi was confident that with both Weichsel’s forces, who excel in battles of maneuver across open ground, and Duke Matthias, who was a master of ambushes back during his prime, there were ample opportunities to employ either tactic as my army marched back from Alis Avern. And I would have overruled whatever caution General Menno might have taken to avoid engagement.”

“Just as you probably did when you ordered your army to sally out from their fortress by the lake,” Sylviane added with an inward frown. “And here I thought I was clever enough to have lured you out.”

“It would have been just as tempting had I been trying to win,” Gabriel answered with an approving smile towards his niece. “It was an excellent opportunity to sandwich your army, and I did not know then that Henri had switched sides.”

“Neither did I,” Sylviane felt like she was repeating herself. “Father must be watching down over me from heaven.”

Her uncle’s lips thinned once more. Though this time he did not look like he wanted to object.

“In either case, your father and I had never anticipated that you would go to the Avorican front instead,” Gabriel continued with a thin smile and a shake of his head. “That gave me a real scare when I first learned about it, as Geoffroi doubted the Avoricans could stave off defeat. Even the reinforcements he dispatched under General Macdonald were sent to bolster Roazhon’s defenses, so that the city could hold out for at least a half-dozen months in a siege.”

“Macdonald did say that he was sent there to buy time,” Pascal replied with a faint scowl. “But why not defend Roazhon Gap? That narrow corridor through the mountains is the last barrier keeping the Caliphate’s western advance from reaching the Lotharin Heartlands.”

“Geoffroi had determined that forestalling the fall of Avorica was a higher priority than stopping the Caliphate’s advance,” Gabriel answered with a tone that expressed his own approval. “We had expected the Gap of Roazhon to fall under enemy control and that the Tauheeds would send out raids against the Heartland territories. But your father believed that their main force would not advance through the mountains as long as the Avoricans remained a threat to their rear — certainly not while General Salim was in command.”

“His Majesty truly was a gifted strategist,” Pascal voiced his admiration as he looked upon her uncle with a wry grin. “Even facing his own demise and with the situation as desperate as it was, he outlined his priorities and allocated his forces perfectly for each task at hand.”

“Yet you were able to prove him wrong, as you turned out to be a far better tactician and commander than my brother had thought,” the Duke then finished with an irony-laden smile.

“Not exactly,” Pascal answered with a grim look as he looked down with an inward scowl. “However, that is a long and different story.”

Not wanting to see him beat himself up again, Sylviane immediately drew the conversation back to the original question:

“But even if we had not taken the Avorica path, there were many hurdles that I would have to overcome to succeed at retaking the throne,” she pointed out the obvious. “I would have to persuade both King Leopold and Duke Matthias to back me with their forces, which was by no means certain back when we first heard of the coup.”

“There is no plan that is foolproof. And there are always risks that one must overcome,” her uncle answered with a confident and even proud smile at his niece. “Your father had faith in the two of you to attain the military support that you required. All that remained was for me to play my part in granting you an opportunity to win.”

Sylviane couldn’t help but smile as she felt empowered by her father’s trust. However…

“But what if I had failed?” She nevertheless asked. “What would you have done then?”

“Your father did prepare a contingency — a personal message to King Alistair to be sent upon his death,” Gabriel commented as he briefly glanced at Pascal.

His lips formed a scowl so faint that even Sylviane barely noticed it. It was a sign that her uncle had clear reservations revealing this part in front of Pascal. However, given how much Pascal had done for her throughout this entire journey, Sylviane was adamant that he should be told the truth:

“I’m not going to hide this from Pascal, so you can say it in front of him.”

Her uncle gave off a slight sigh before he stared at her with a slanted, knowing look that seemed to say ‘your choice’.

“I never read the letter myself,” he began to explain. “But your father informed me he would tell King Alistair about a premonition that a sudden death might befall him which would leave the Empire in chaos.”

“Convenient,” Pascal remarked with an irony-laden scowl.

“But not unreasonable,” Kaede pitched in to defend. “Plenty of people throughout history have sensed their own looming death.”

Sylviane nodded in return before gesturing for Gabriel to continue.

“From what I know, your father told King Alistair that my ambitions might propel me to rise up as a contender for the throne. And if that should happen, he asks for the Glens to support your bid in the chaotic civil war that would ensue.”

“Father knew that King Alistair and I had a ‘special relationship’.” The Princess’ lips formed a slight smile. “He always said that the King was as trustworthy a friend as any hound.”

“King Alistair’s nickname of the ‘Hound King’ isn’t just because he often acted as an attack dog for your father’s politics,” Gabriel replied with a brief grin.

“I thought it was because he often pursued his targets in person.” Pascal’s scowl grew as he clearly saw this as an inadequacy of leadership, to which only Kaede answered with a shrug.

“Regardless,” Gabriel returned back on topic as he stared intently at his niece. “Geoffroi had also added in that letter that if you were no longer a contender due to reasons unforeseen, then he offered his blessings to King Alistair to both take the crown of the Empire and… your hand in marriage.”

Her uncle glanced at her betrothed again at the precise moment when he finished. His eyes bid Sylviane to follow as she caught barely the last vestiges of Pascal’s eye twitching.

“And with that, even a bastard king like Alistair can become a somewhat legitimate Emperor of Rhin-Lotharingie,” Gabriel added. “Meanwhile, you would have retained the position that you were groomed to be.”

“Father has to have known that I do not see Alistair in that manner,” Sylviane stressed in her response.

The Princess knew that her father did. After all, they had talked about this exact topic nearly a year ago.

Yes, part of the reason was that King Alistair was over sixty which made his age more than thrice her own. Had Alistair married and started having children at the same time as many northern nobles, his own firstborn might not have been much younger than Sylviane. Therefore, the Princess had always seen Alistair as more of a ‘funny uncle’ figure who shared many of her ‘occupational woes’ than a romantic prospect.

The Princess also knew based on their discussions that she wasn’t exactly Alistair’s ‘type’. Therefore, chances were that any marriage would be a purely political one based on mutual respect, rather than the loving relationship her mother and father had had. As someone born and raised in a royal family, Sylviane could hardly be against such an arrangement.

Nevertheless, Sylviane knew it was important for her to challenge this narrative out loud because her own betrothed was listening.

“Your father reasoned that if nothing else, the friendship between you and King Alistair is true,” her uncle then explained what she already knew. “Alistair will respect and listen to your opinions and your advice — which, if you take my personal advice, is far more telling of a lasting marriage than love will ever be.”

Then why do you look so sad when you say that, Sylviane thought as her eyes stayed fixed to her uncle’s gaze.

“And with the way King Alistair rules, we all know you could easily become the true power behind the throne,” it was Pascal who then pitched in.

In that moment, Sylviane turned to look intently at her fiancé, whom she knew harbored a jealous complex towards the King of the Glens. She had expected him to look far more displeased by what Gabriel had revealed, and in some way she even regretted telling Gabriel to continue in front of Pascal.

But while Pascal certainly didn’t look happy, he didn’t look disgruntled either. The young lord kept his eyebrows raised and his lips bent lopsided — an expression she knew he wore only when he was trying to think outside of his comfort zone.

“What?” Pascal responded as he stared between Gabriel and Sylviane. “I am only speaking the truth. King Alistair hates negotiating policy, which is the majority of a ruler’s job.” he added with a disapproving shrug.

“Pascal.” Sylviane reached out and grabbed his hand while maintaining a lock on his gaze. “I deeply apologize for my father’s actions. He should have had more faith in you,” she spoke with all the sincerity she could instill into her voice.

“Do not be,” Pascal replied straight, which left her bewildered for a moment.

Her fiancé then returned a lopsided expression that was halfway between a scowl and a smirk before he explained:

“Even I can appreciate the ingenuity of your father’s play in this instance. He had prepared the board such that as long as you were not killed outright, then there was a near certainty that you would come out of the conflict as both the Empire’s true liege and the mother of its royal lineage.”

“It is what your father has groomed you to be all these years,” her betrothed then added with a slightly forced smile. “I cannot fault him in upholding his top priority as a ruler monikered ‘the Great’ should do.”

That’s the strategist in you talking, Sylviane reflected. But what about emotionally speaking?

The Princess doubted Pascal’s ego could simply accept being thrown aside like that. Nevertheless, this was hardly the place to discuss his feelings. She could only return a nod of appreciation to her betrothed for now before taking a long sigh. She then leaned back in her ornate cushy chair before proverbially turning the page:

“That does at least address my biggest question,” she said before her eyes softened as she gazed upon her uncle. “Which brings me to… Why?”

“Why?” Gabriel’s head turned slightly as though he felt the answer should be obvious.

“I do not need you to explain to me why we needed to undermine the Trinitian Church. I already know that by heart,” Sylviane clarified.

The Princess might be a Trinitian faithful who believed that Hyperion the Dragonlord died to atone for everyone’s sins. But her father had always taught her to see the Church hierarchy as an instrument of the Inner Sea. It was the reason he had spent decades fighting tooth and nail over investiture — the right for the Lotharins themselves to appoint who would be their priests.

The alternative was that the priesthood, who gave sermons to the Rhin-Lotharingie peasantry every mass, would always remain suspect as agents of propaganda and provocateurs for the Holy Imperium and their Pope.

“We Lotharins have our own culture, our own values,” Sylviane thought of her father’s words on this great matter. “We must be allowed to think and decide for ourselves, and not through a moral framework controlled by foreigners and dictated to us through the lecturing of outsiders.”

When she discussed this problem with Kaede, the Samaran girl had equated it to the ‘dominance of Western media’ in her world, which instilled the shackles of colonialism through the moralistic ideology of ‘liberalism’, whose adherents cried heathen and heresy towards anyone who disagreed with their cultural values.

It was a reminder to Sylviane that the more concepts differed between worlds, the more practices stayed the same. And just as several countries did in Kaede’s world, it was important to undermine and purge the influences of the Arcadian Church from Rhin-Lotharingie.

“What I want to ask is — why would you go this far?” Sylviane asked.

“You did all of this without any intention of telling me. You were going to take it all to your grave!” The Princess felt an emotion that she had never associated with her uncle before as her voice slowly rose. “Is destroying the legitimacy of the Trinitian Church truly worth throwing away your life like this?”

“Absolutely,” Gabriel declared as though he had never been more certain of anything in his life.

“My life had never been worth living to begin with,” Gabriel continued in a bitter voice. “Every week, the priest’s sermons remind me that I am an irredeemable sinner through no fault of my own, because I was born attracted to men rather than women. Every night, I hurt the saintly woman who married me because I could never even bring myself to properly consummate our marriage. Yet, I can only watch her pray to the Holy Father for my salvation and solace…

So the claims about him were all true, Sylviane thought with a scowl as even she couldn’t help feeling a hint of revulsion and disgust in hearing his words.

It made the Princess realize that up until now, she had only believed in those rumors about her uncle’s homosexuality because they corresponded with her image of him as her father’s murderer. They had indulged her views that Gabriel had a fundamentally sinful nature. But the reality was wholly different.

Gabriel was a noble man who just happened to be a homosexual all along.

Perhaps it was not surprising that Gabriel managed to deceive everyone on both sides of the Civil War. He had been misleading people about his true nature for his entire life. To pretend to be someone he was not was so deeply ingrained in him that deception became natural for him.

“It was for this reason alone that I requested my brother to denounce me during his final moments, despite the fact he had never spoken ill of my inclinations before,” Gabriel’s voice rose as pain mixed with anguish in his gaze once more. It was as if the mere memory of hearing it from his brother’s lips was hurtful to him.

“Nor had he ever looked down upon me in the same manner as you are doing now,” he then added with a frown at his niece. “It’s as if you have already deemed me guilty of irrevocable sin.”

Sylviane immediately broke eye contact and looked away with an apologetic scowl.

“It was never traditional Lotharin culture that had cast homosexuality as a moral sin — that is a view imposed upon us by the Imperials who built the Trinitian Church of Arcadia,” her father’s words from a previous discussion echoed in her mind.

Truly. Even I myself, despite knowing the dangers of the Church, cannot escape their influence, the Princess thought.

“I’m sorry,” Sylviane’s gaze softened as she looked back at her uncle. “It cannot be your fault if you were born with such an attraction and never made a choice to love men.”

Yet at the same time, she could feel her own scathing hypocrisy accusing her in her mind.

Regardless, Gabriel merely sighed and waved it off as he returned a sad smile.

“My brother knew everything about me. He even covered for my dalliances during my youth,” he continued. “It was I who failed the phoenix’s call and turned to hate myself. I was never there for him when he needed me. Yet he welcomed me back with open arms.” He clenched his fists as he spoke in a regretful tone.

“Father always did say that the Lord said ‘love thy neighbor’, not — under what condition,” Sylviane commented quietly with a soft smile.

Gabriel responded with a wistful nod as his eyes grew glassy with reminiscent nostalgia.

“Geoffroi might not be the same as me, but he was the only one who ever truly accepted me for what I am,” he said. “And because of that, I swore then that he would be the only one whom I would never consciously lie to, as he was the only true love I’ve ever known.”

“Though sibling love is not the same,” Pascal retorted before he frowned as Sylviane glanced at him. Even he seemed to realize that it was not his place to speak.

After all, not only was this a close family matter, Pascal was neither a theologian nor a relationship expert. He was hardly in a place to either debate or judge the many forms of emotional bonds. Especially when Pascal himself shared one such unusual bond with Kaede who, despite her female physique, claimed to be of male birth.

Pascal seemed to realize this himself as he glanced towards the petite familiar who stood silently beside him. Sylviane knew that his relationship with Kaede was built upon trust and ‘family’. However, the Princess was also certain from the way he looked at the adorable girl that he had desires which extended beyond it. It was, after all, the reason why she had initially grown jealous and tried to ‘put Kaede in her place’.

But did that mean that his feelings committed the same sin as Gabriel? When the Lord taught that it was their souls which truly mattered and not their bodies?

Sylviane certainly didn’t believe so. After all, the Lord has never spoken against love, only acts of illicit intercourse itself. And even had Gabriel gone that far, he was no more sinful than so many other men who partook in premarital sex — which included her own betrothed. That didn’t even include the rumors she had heard in court about a new practice that involved the mouth, which was every bit as unnatural as sodomy.

“And for this, you despise the Church and everything they preach,” Sylviane said as she finally came to understand.

“Wouldn’t you, in my shoes?” Gabriel challenged. “The priests and their sermons have done nothing for people like me except to prejudice everyone against us and teach us to hate ourselves. I’m damned if I live a lie and damned if I don’t. So I might as well just accept damnation for myself and kiss the devil’s feet!”

The Princess scowled slightly as she would never go so far as to claim that the whole Trinitian faith was worthless due to the corruption of its institutional hierarchy. Nevertheless, she sidestepped the issue for now and instead focused on where their views overlapped.

“We can certainly agree that the Trinitian Church has lost its way. Our Lord and Savior preached that everyone should be shown a path to be content and live at peace with themselves, yet the Church…” Sylviane trailed off as she thought back to her conversations with her late father on why the Trinitian Church was steadily losing support.

“But not every Lotharin has come to recognize that, nor the way the Church wields its political power to the detriment of our people,” Gabriel pointed out. “Therefore, I wanted it to be known to every Lotharin that our Pope ordained a homosexual as the Defender of the Faith. That the Church has become so blinded by politics and corrupted by avarice that they would support even the most heinous crime of kinslaying to attain their aims.”

“And to achieve that, you put on an act that fooled not only the entire realm, but even wagered your own life in the gamble,” Pascal muttered as though he could hardly believe the sheer audacity of the plan laid out before him, even though the reality was that it had been long in the making and was mostly complete.

“Always bet big,” Gabriel responded with a sneer at Pascal. His eyes then pivoted back to his niece with a determined gaze as he declared with absolute conviction:

“I would like to see nothing more than for my life and disposition to become the catalyst that tears apart the moral foundation of the Trinitian Church! Because that would give my life meaning — which is far more valuable than simply being alive.”

You’re more religious than you’d like for us to believe, Uncle, Sylviane couldn’t help thinking as a deathly silence lingered in the wake of Gabriel’s declaration.

Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so eager to become a martyr to ‘nationalism’, she thought of the word that Kaede had used. You wouldn’t be gifting an advantage to my rule in exchange for your life!

“Uncle. I cannot kill you for this,” the Princess pursed her lips as she finally broke the silence. “You’re the last of my father’s family. How could I face him in heaven…”

“Your father had already attempted to persuade me to not do this,” Gabriel cut in. “He knows my resolution and will not fault you for this.”

“Even then, you’re innocent!” Sylviane said as her eyes grew glassy and her voice cracked. “Every charge that I’ve laid against you. Not one of them is true!”

“Yet you must prosecute me anyway, and to the fullest extent of the law,” Gabriel declared as though he was the one who had greater royal authority. “You must play your role in this act to its conclusion, or everything that we’ve accomplished, every life who was sacrificed in this Civil War — they would have died for nothing!”

“And furthermore,” his voice grew ominous. “You must continue to denounce me as your father’s killer throughout your entire life, even if you know it to be false.”

“You can’t–” Sylviane objected as she looked upon her godfather as a parent figure for the first time in her life. A tear pooled in the corner of her gaze as she could not bear the thought of losing him just as soon as she found his aid.

“I know it’s hard,” Gabriel’s face softened with sympathy even as he cut her off once more. “It’s the reason I did not want you to learn about any of this. But now that you have, you must continue to act as though you never knew.”

“Then at least let me commute your sentence to–” Sylviane added.

“No!” Gabriel interjected as he remained resolute. “You can show mercy to anyone else involved with the rebellion. But not me. You cannot even commute my sentence to beheading. It would only undermine the supremacy of the law, which your father had upheld throughout his entire reign. Not to mention it could create doubt about your hatred for your father’s killer should your mask ever falter in the decades to come.”

Sylviane’s lips hung as she stared back in bewilderment. She had considered proposing exile instead, however that didn’t fly even with her own logic. No sane ruler would exile a pretender who had already tried once to seize the crown. That would merely give them a second chance as it allowed them to rebuild their resources abroad.

However, both the Princess and her uncle knew that there was only one legal outcome for his deeds. He would receive not merely death, but death by the most painful means of being boiled alive.

“I wouldn’t mind being burned alive either if you could make the case that I committed heresy, but I doubt that would work,” Gabriel then added with a quirky smile as though his own death was a joke. “It would certainly add one more stain upon the Church, that the Pope appointed a heretic to be the Defender of the Faith.”

“I don’t think anyone would take that charge seriously,” Sylviane shook her head. “It would be seen as trumped up at best, which would undermine the legitimacy of the other charges…” Sylviane trailed off as she pondered: is that really a bad thing?

“No.” Gabriel slapped it down as he seemingly read her thoughts. “The legal case against me should remain airtight.”

“Uncle…” Sylviane felt her heart fill with sorrow and regret as she stared at the godfather whom she never really knew until now. “Do we really have to do this? Can we not substitute a body just as you did for my father?”

Gabriel replied with a shake of his head:

“Your father was already dead by the time I spiked the head that imitated him. But I will need to die under the scrutiny of hundreds, including guards and nobles who would recognize my mana signature. There is no way you can fool everyone even if you could find a perfect living doppelganger.

“Besides,” he then added with a wistful smile. “I am already resolved to die for this cause. The only thing that I ask for is your promise that my death will not be in vain. That you will purge Rhin-Lotharingie of Arcadia’s moralistic dominance,” he finished before staring intently at his niece.

“I swear to you, Uncle,” the Princess declared without a moment’s pause. She stared back at Gabriel with glassy eyes while her hands tightened into fists as she added: “I will do everything in my power to finally rid Rhin-Lotharingie of the Imperium’s strings.”

“Then I will be content and my life will have had meaning,” Gabriel responded with a faint, sad smile.

“Uncle…” a tear slid down Sylviane’s cheek as she looked upon her last surviving blood relative.

She had already lost her mother and her brothers to Imperial assassins. Her father might have died anyway due to his illness, but he chose to go out in a blaze of glory in opposing yet another Imperial scheme. The last thing Sylviane wanted to see was to lose yet another member of her family — one that she didn’t know she had until an hour ago — to great power geopolitics. Yet the Princess in her knew that she had no choice.

“For what it’s worth, becoming your godfather was the only role I truly took pride in this life,” Gabriel then added in a tone of farewell. “Your father and I both know that you will be a great ruler. And I will always be glad that I was able to play a part in helping you ascend — as I leave you not only a full treasury and a clear understanding of your subject’s true loyalties, but also the greatest gift any crown heir could have: being a hated predecessor that the country will celebrate you for freeing them from,” he smirked as though making one last joke.

“You are the best godfather any daughter of Rhin-Lotharingie could have had,” Sylviane pursed her lips as she returned a resigned and mournful smile that looked somewhat forced. “If there is anything I could still do for you in these last few days…”

“There is,” Gabriel answered almost immediately. “If you want to grant me one last wish, then please help my wife remarry.”

A gentle smile grew across his expression as he clarified: “I want her to have someone kind, someone outside the political arena as I do not wish for her to be hounded by her association with a traitor, someone actually deserving of her this time.”

“Does my aunt know?” The Princess couldn’t help asking first.

“I’ve never told her anything regarding the coup,” Gabriel shook his head. “Even my rebellion came as a surprise to her, though it’s possible she might suspect a thing or two.” He sighed as a wry smile came to his lips. “She always did have excellent intuition. And she knew I did not resent Geoffroi as I occasionally claimed to.”

Sylviane nodded in return.

“I promise you that I will do everything I can for her,” she answered before a thought came to her.

“And Uncle,” she addressed him with a warm smile. “You do love your wife. Certainly in the manner that truly matters in the eyes of the Holy Father.”

“I agree,” Pascal decided to break his silence once more as his turquoise gaze met Gabriel’s with a look of sincere respect. “Your Grace is as much a man as anyone who strove to be a good husband and giving father. And anyone who tells you otherwise is either a fool or a hypocrite.”

“Well, I have always known myself to be a hypocrite,” Gabriel joked before his lips formed a sincere smile towards Pascal for the first time. “But thank you, both of you. That truly meant a great deal.”

 

—– * * * —–

 

Five days later, Kaede watched Princess Sylviane gaze upon the open ground in front of the Oriflamme Citadel from an arrowslit on the third tower.

A huge crowd had already gathered around the wooden scaffold built outside the gateway. Four massive cauldrons had been prepared for the four nobles declared guilty of the highest form of treason. They included Gabriel and three of the leading perpetrators who had reached out to the Imperium for support. These traitors not only rose in rebellion against the crown and committed regicide, they had done it in collusion with the historical nemesis of all Lotharins.

It was therefore of no surprise that the crowd was extremely animated in decrying the traitors with insults and hurled garbage. And Gabriel received the worst of it as everyone recognized him as the prime offender.

“You rotten, pestilence-addled, dung-loving, traitorous shitbagging sodomite!” A particularly colorful cry came from the crowd. “I hope they welcome you with branding irons for your anus in hell!”

The Samaran girl could see a scowl form across The Princess’ lips. The floor they stood on was dark and unlit, and Sylviane intended to keep it that way as she had Elspeth stand guard outside the entrance. Only a narrow band of cloud-filtered sunlight came through the arrowslit to shine on Sylviane’s left cheek. Yet, despite the poor lighting, Kaede could plainly see the anxiety and distress that plagued the Princess.

The fact that Sylviane did not wish to kill her uncle was written all over her face. She was even of two minds about revealing his homosexuality during his trial. However, in the end, Sylviane did opt to send a letter to the court as she could not bear to testify in person. Attached to it was a parting letter from Gabriel’s own mother which he had saved all these years — a final letter which accused her son of ‘crimes against nature’ in his dalliances and pleaded for him to seek the Holy Father’s forgiveness.

And since then, ‘the Pope named a homosexual as the Defender of the Faith’ had spread like wildfire throughout the Trinitian faith.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” Kaede heard Sylviane mutter just as the Princess did that day she handed Kaede the letter to be taken to court. “It must be done,” the latter then reminded herself as she closed her fist and squeezed.

“Elder Sister,” the Samaran girl said with an uncertain frown. “Are you sure you want to watch this? It would only hurt you to see him die like this.”

“A little pain in my heart, Kaede, is the least I could bear to repay the gift that my godfather left me,” Sylviane replied in a solemn voice without ever looking back.

Her eyes remained fixated on Gabriel as the executioners suspended the Duke by his cuffed wrists. He was then lowered into the cauldron until the scalding hot water submerged his body up to his chest.

Meanwhile, Kaede winced and turned away from the crowd as she heard the four men cry out in agony. It truly was a barbaric form of capital punishment, as the guilty were not even dropped into boiling hot water. But rather, the water had been heated just enough to cause blistering pain, and then cooked further with their victims inside until they died a most torturous death.

The screams of anguish and agony included Gabriel’s own. However, both Kaede and Sylviane knew them to be false. The Princess had offered one last act of mercy to Gabriel — a tiny shirt button which Pascal had inscribed with a pain-blocking spell rune. Nevertheless, the Duke still put on an act as he thrashed about in the scalding waters and howled through gritted teeth. It was an impeccable performance that was genuinely painful for Kaede to witness.

It took several minutes for the water to boil. Several minutes for the victims’ organs to fail. Several minutes where Gabriel continued to be pelted by rotten vegetables as he slowly stopped struggling.

“Farewell, Uncle,” Sylviane muttered in barely more than a whisper as she watched her last living blood relative fall deathly still in the simmering cauldron.

“Rest easy that I won’t let your death be in vain,” her sorrowful voice added as it steadily transformed into anger and resolve. “Nor will I let any of our family’s death be for naught…”

The Samaran girl caught sight of a steely glint as Sylviane pulled out an engraved dagger and pressed it against her palm.

“The Imperium shall pay for the blood debt they owe to us all,” the Princess then declared in a hateful tone.

“I swear, upon the memories of my father, my mother, and my brothers, upon the departing soul of my uncle, upon my ancestors and the martyrs of Rhin-Lotharingie, and upon the Holy Cross and all that is sacred to me,” Sylviane declared in her most solemn voice as blood dripped from the cut across her palm.

“I swear to every being,” she took a step back before extending her bleeding hand into the cross-shaped arrowslit, “who may one day weigh my soul and hold me accountable for my deeds — that I, Sylviane Etiennette de Gaetane, Crown Princess and future Empress of the Empire of Rhin-Lotharingie, shall always be an enemy of the Holy Imperium of the Inner Sea.”

Kaede’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as she watched the Princess declare an oath upon the salvation of her soul. But Sylviane still wasn’t finished:

“I shall never be a friend of any servant of the Imperium. I shall never negotiate with them in good faith. And I shall not rest until the last vestiges of that evil hegemon which has dominated us Lotharins for so long are completely and utterly consigned to the trash heap of history,” she concluded before squeezing her fist to wring the blood from her hand until her knuckles turned white.

Meanwhile, the Samaran girl could hardly believe what she had just borne witness to. For a ruler as youthful and as brilliant as Sylviane, who still had at least a century of lifespan ahead, to declare the Imperium as not merely her mortal enemy, but to ‘never rest’ until she saw its destruction.

This is going to lead to disaster, Kaede thought as she realized the decades of conflict and war this could bring, as well as the countless civilians who could be murdered in its name.

It really shouldn’t have surprised her, after how many friends and family members Sylviane lost as a result of the Imperium’s schemes. However, what the Princess swore to do would only further escalate the cycle of animosity and hatred. And for a ruler, this vendetta gambled not only her own life, but the countless millions of her realm upon a geopolitical quest of vengeance.

And if she didn’t help bring a stop to it, the blood spilled forth by this new quest could easily flow a new river to the sea.

Kaede wouldn’t say anything now. No, she wasn’t that stupid. But she was in a unique position as someone embraced into the royal family and had the ears of the crown. Perhaps, with the passage of time to heal Sylviane’s emotional scars, the Princess would be more willing to reconsider her oath.

Perhaps, the Samaran girl pondered as she suppressed a sigh. I’d been brought to this world for a reason after all.

After all, the path of great leadership was fraught with dangers that often deprived even the best people of their humanity. This was doubly the case for those who wished to bring change for the betterment of their state.

Ivan the 4th of Russia had been a great champion of legal reform that brought justice to the powerful aristocracy and protections for the lower classes. Yet, the repeated assassinations on his life and those of his family, including the poisoning of his beloved wife, turned him into a violent and brutal autocrat monikered ‘the Terrible’. By the same token, Kaede would never forget reading about how Mao Zedong of China, who had such empathy for the downtrodden that he used his own adolescent body to shield his mother from domestic abuse, would one day ignore the starvation of millions as he pursued the ‘utopia’ envisioned by his fallen revolutionary comrades.

Kaede looked back at the Princess whose hand was still bleeding and whose eyes remained fixated on the skies through the cross-shaped arrowslit. She reached out with her own chilly hands and wrapped them around Sylviane’s cold palm, before activating one of the few spells she could cast through her ring from Pascal.

“First Aid.”

Her magical healing finally caught Sylviane’s attention as the latter looked down with a pained smile and a wistful gaze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s what I’m here for, Elder Sister,” Kaede tried to look natural as she beamed back.

Would Sylviane become an empress worthy of song by the generations to come? Or would she become a brutal tyrant who stopped at nothing to destroy her enemies? It all depended on circumstance and the people who surrounded Her Highness in the decades to come.

And in that moment, the girl reborn from another world knew she had found her true calling in this new world.

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