To Get What You Want (5)
Serve the Empire, not the Emperor.
Benelia's words had another meaning as well: If I fail to guide the Empire along the right path, you may turn against me too.
She was asking Leonberg to abandon neither the convictions of House Pelgaroin nor his own judgment. The princess's proposal was, at the very least, worth hearing.
“…First, I would like to hear Your Highness's full intentions.”
Leonberg agreed that he would cooperate if, after hearing her plan, he judged it worthy of his support.
Benelia offered him a detailed account of how she intended to take power. She spoke without hesitation, almost as though she had expected his answer from the beginning.
At first the scheme sounded dangerously underhanded. Yet as Leonberg listened, the logic became harder and harder to dismiss. If war was the opportunity she meant to use, her method offered a way to seize authority quickly.
He considered it at length, weighing the risk against the consequences of doing nothing. At last, Leonberg reached across to take the princess's hand.
“House Pelgaroin will serve the Empire, not the Emperor.”
“And I will devote my heart to the Empire's glory.”
Their verbal compact was made. Having shown one another their hands, they agreed to work together, deceive the imperial court, and pursue the distant future they had discussed.
Benelia had obtained the agreement she came for. On her way back to her guest room, however, she stopped.
“Your Highness.”
Ashley de Pelgaroin stood outside the door, greeting her with the grace and precision expected at court.
Wasn't she walking by Baegun Lake with her fiancé this morning?
Had she come straight here afterward? She had plainly been waiting, and her manner suggested something more than a farewell.
Benelia acknowledged the bow with a nod.
“Raise your head. Tell me why you've come.”
Ashley straightened and folded her hands neatly before her.
“The head maid tells me Your Highness is returning to the imperial palace.”
“I am. I've obtained what I wanted. There's no reason to stay.”
“By what you wanted, do you mean a political advantage?”
There was a question in the words, but far too much certainty in her voice. Benelia wondered how much this young woman knew.
She smiled, intrigued.
“And if I did? Are you here to threaten me?”
“Of course not. I know my place. I hoped to offer something that would help Your Highness.”
“Help me? You do have a talent for saying amusing things.”
The amusement left Benelia's face. In its place came a faint, unmistakable displeasure.
“If I needed help from House Pelgaroin, I would ask its head. I wouldn't come to you. Am I mistaken?”
“No, Your Highness.”
“Then what makes you so certain you can offer something your father cannot?”
Benelia had no intention of indulging a noble daughter who'd picked up a little political gossip and hoped to turn it into influence with the imperial family. Her ideals were real enough, but she was hardly so softhearted that she would overlook presumption.
She let her disapproval show.
Ashley did not retreat. Whatever information she held, she seemed certain it would matter.
“Your Highness never truly pursued the rebels.”
A promising opening could ease hostility into curiosity. Benelia recognized the method. It was the sort of move made by someone accustomed to negotiating rather than pleading.
Feeling a reluctant kinship, she inclined her head for Ashley to continue.
“Why didn't you pursue them?” Ashley asked. “Had my father really taken command away from you? I've considered many possibilities. I can't claim to know everything you intended. But I am certain of one thing.”
Her blue eyes narrowed.
“Your Highness has been acting. You've been deceiving everyone.”
“Acting…”
A slight smile showed between Benelia's lips. Ashley had no proof, yet spoke with an accuracy that was almost offensive.
“And what makes you think I'm acting?”
“Your conduct has been perfectly consistent.”
“Consistent?”
“Yes. I heard that after the recent council meeting, His Majesty ordered you confined. Yet within a few days, that order was lifted.”
“And?”
“The moment you were free, you gathered troops under the pretext of hunting rebels and came to Pelgaroin. People say you were chasing military achievements and indulging your vanity.”
So far, Ashley had described the public account accurately. Benelia waited.
“But almost as soon as you arrived, you quarreled with my father. You surrendered command of the operation and remained in the castle. Every rumor about your incompetence became louder.”
“Those are the events as everyone saw them. What of it?”
“All of them show Your Highness displaying the same thing: incompetence.”
Someone who worked so consistently to appear incompetent might not be incompetent at all.
“The Dawning Steps answer directly to the imperial family,” Ashley continued. “Under ordinary circumstances, they would not submit to another commander's authority unless the princess relinquished command herself.”
Benelia said nothing.
“If you were truly arrogant and desperate for achievements, you would never have stepped aside merely because my father was angry. You would have pressed on with the search, hoping to claim even one more success.”
Benelia's curiosity was becoming caution.
Just how much can this girl see?
For some reason, Benelia felt sweat gathering in her palms.
“That was why I concluded you were pretending to be incompetent,” Ashley said. “But why go to such lengths? Whom were you trying to deceive? I thought about it for a long time before reaching my answer.”
She paused, then met the princess's eyes without flinching.
“Your Highness means to deceive the imperial family and take control of its power.”
A chill passed down Benelia's back. This was the first person who had come so close to her purpose armed with inference alone. Ashley's audacity, speaking such an accusation directly to a princess, was almost as astonishing.
What could possibly make her so desperate?
“What do you want from me?” Benelia asked.
Ashley reached into her sleeve and drew out a tiny rolled parchment. It was scarcely larger than her palm, secured with a thin cord.
“If capturing the rebels was never Your Highness's true purpose,” she said, “then you may gain more by cooperating with them. They're already opposed to the imperial family. An alliance could help you secure real power.”
Surely she can't mean…
As Benelia stared in disbelief, Ashley held up the parchment.
“This is a secret letter from my second brother, who is with the rebels known as the Black Scorpion.”
I'll stand between you and the rebels. Make use of me.
That was the proposal. Benelia let out a helpless sigh at its sheer audacity.
“Are you telling an imperial princess, to her face, that you're in contact with rebels?”
“I am.”
“Suppose you're wrong about me. Suppose I really am a vain, incompetent princess obsessed with my record. I could arrest you this instant. Aren't you afraid?”
Ashley bit her lower lip.
Of course she was afraid. She was only twenty-two, and she was stepping into a conspiracy far beyond what a young noblewoman ought to have to bear.
But this might be the first step toward freeing Theorad from the elf's grasp. She could not turn away.
“If fear were enough to stop me, I would never have come to Your Highness.”
Her resolve pleased Benelia. She had not planned to establish contact with the rebels, but such a connection might give her own plan a considerable advantage.
“Very well. I'll accept your help. And when the time comes, you may ask a favor of me in return. If it's within my power, I'll grant it.”
“Thank you. But I'll claim that favor only after everything is over.”
“Why?”
“Because what I want isn't something I can receive now.”
“Hmm. Tell me anyway. Shouldn't I know what you're asking?”
Ashley hesitated, then nodded.
“In the distant future, when my father is ready to pass his title to an heir…”
She faced Benelia with a cool, unwavering gaze.
“Please help me become the head of House Pelgaroin.”
“My lord! Is there any luggage to be loaded?”
I shook my head at the coachman's question and glanced back across the courtyard.
The regular soldiers were assembling at their centurion's orders, then moving off under his direction. It looked as though the withdrawal preparations really were underway.
There was no reason for me to interfere. I turned back to the carriage.
“Are you leaving at once, my lord?” the coachman asked, sounding uncertain.
“Yes. Everyone's busy. There's no need to summon half the castle to see me off.”
“But…”
“It's fine. I've explained matters to Ashley. You won't be blamed for anything.”
“Ah! Then please, step inside!”
He opened the door. The elf was sitting where I'd expected to find her, but she didn't look at me. She was staring out the opposite window.
Is she still angry about this morning?
Uneasy, I climbed in and took my seat. The coachman shut the door, and soon the horses drew us toward the castle gates.
“….”
The wheels rattled over the stones. In the silence, every jolt seemed loud enough to hurt my ears.
I cleared my throat.
“Elf. About this morning…”
The words died before I could finish. I could see the elf's face reflected in the window. She looked terribly sad, and the pallor of her skin troubled me.
Has she been crying?
Perhaps I spoke too harshly.
I was about to place a hand on her shoulder and offer what comfort I could when she murmured something almost too faint to hear.
“…I'll listen to you.”
My hand stopped in midair. Had I heard her correctly?
But the elf continued in the same subdued voice.
“So, Master, keep your promise.”
She must have meant the threat I'd made to rape her in four days' time. I'd intended it to keep her from pressing me, but she seemed determined to hold me to it.
I cleared my throat and answered, raising a hand as though the matter were easily settled.
“Of course.”
“…That's enough.”
Is that really all?
I stayed on guard, expecting more. Nothing came. As though she had no wish to tease me today, the elf went on watching the world pass outside her window.