Lost In Character: Transmigration Chronicles Of A Nameless Heroine 36 View From The Sideline

Leal narrowed his eyes in dry amus.e.m.e.nt. Was it just him, or had they all just been made witness to a man laying the groundwork for rebellion?

From what the Arnican spy had relayed to him earlier, he already knew that the people's discontent over Queen Heloise's dillydallying was steadily brewing over the last few days. It did not help that keeping silent about her intentions and not responding to even her most trusted allies' calls to action weren't her usual way of doing things.

According to the stray gossips that sometimes found their way across the border, their neighbor's Queen used to consult others, excessively at times, until someone comes up with an answer few can disagree with. Of course, her seal on any particular answer was what had lent it most of its weight.

The spy had also told Leal of what happened in the garden behind the royal residence. Among other things, that confirmed his guess of who Lothar and Hilde had been to one another, and he didn't doubt the truth of the former's wishes for his student.

What he immediately doubted was the purity of the Lord General's intentions for taking up his son's cause, and his suspicions were made worse upon reading how the Captain offered the Princess a sword – the symbol of the one thing she wanted in life, or so it seemed to many.

There was no information available on whether the Lord and the Captain were in conspiracy; it could just as easily be the inevitable collision of two people heading the same way from different directions, a chance opportunity that neither lost time taking advantage of. Great minds think alike, as they say. Leal didn't know about "great," but his intuition told him this was probably what happened.

Princess Hilde refused to take the sword, however. And the excuse she gave – that she was underage – was thin at best. After all, just hours before, that didn't stop her from facing the Lysean delegates so Lady Ilse wouldn't have to.

Judging from the way she went straight to the Queen after that encounter, her first choice had once again been to protect her family. That shouldn't have been too surprising. But if Leal had been in the military men's position, that answer would have had him feeling backed into a corner.

He had already shown his hand. Even if he were to wave it away later as a misunderstanding, the stain of suspicion would never be erased – not unless he matched his "truth" with the appropriate actions and keep doing so ever after.

The Lord General must have thought there was small chance he could do that. Thus, this masterstroke. Through that bullish gamble of his, he had placed enormous pressure not only on the Queen but also on Hilde.

The Princess had been a.s.sured she was going to be "endorsed," but as far as Leal knew, that should have been done in private, because receiving a "yes" was not guaranteed. Doing it publicly meant Hilde cannot back away from the role no matter which path it might lead to.

It also meant more people could be induced to support her, and should the Queen answer "no," they might feel as if it had been their own wishes that had been dashed. They also wouldn't be able to help a.s.signing their own interpretations for why she refused. It would generate more dissatisfaction towards their monarch.

If Queen Heloise allowed it, on the other hand… it would be akin to generously providing her hunters the arrow that would take her down.

What other choices did she have left? The most sensible move would be to give in and just declare war on the northern states – right after the funeral, if need be. From what he'd briefly seen of this proud Queen, however, Leal had a strong suspicion she wouldn't do such a thing so easily.

So then, one way or another, she would need to take the Princess out of the picture.

"The poor girl…" Leal heard Viscount Renard murmur.

The old man was not privy to the details of what had led to the event they just witnessed – in fact, that was probably the first he learned that the "teacher" Hilde mentioned was none other than the famous swordsman of Arnica. He certainly didn't know about all the tangled undercurrents involved, though he might suspect of some. The only thing he knew for certain was that the girl for whom he'd developed a soft spot was being treated like a puppet.

Leal lifted one corner of his mouth. "Do you really think so, my lord?" he asked, surrept.i.tiously observing the wheels turning behind that so-called puppet's eyes. "I must be lacking something. I do not see what you see."

"Well, you're young," the Viscount answered, oblivious to Leal's true meaning. "You'll learn yet. Ah… I really wish a foreign man would marry her, if only to get her away from all this."

Leal indulged in a secret, bitter smile. That was only one of the answers available. Were the choice left to her, it was not the one that Hilde herself would take.

"On that, my lord Renard, we agree."

In the end, that was all the young man in a foreign land could say on the matter.