That was the end of the conversation with the Crown Prince. There was nothing more to say, and beyond that, Kartina had judged that any further scene would only cost her.
That was the kind of person Kartina was. It couldn't be called a first impression — I'd encountered her through the novel. But if she was as quick with calculations as the novel portrayed, there was even less to be gained from prolonging things.
The Crown Prince making a scene, trading blows of pride with the Grand Duke — it could put the North at a considerable disadvantage. But that wasn't the point.
If the affair grew any louder, rumors would spread, and in the current climate, that was the last thing anyone needed. Once factions began fighting in earnest, the Imperial house would have to start pulling people to its side. Strange rumors were a liability in and of themselves.
"Will this really be all right?"
"Don't worry. He's a pathetic wretch who wouldn't dare set foot in the North."
"It's not the Crown Prince I'm worried about — what if other nobles launch some kind of attack..."
"On the North?"
I let out a short laugh. The fact that the road from the North to the South was treacherous meant the road from the South to the North was equally treacherous. No one could say how much a campaign would cost.
"You don't need to worry about that. No one in their right mind crosses the northern mountain range just to pick a fight."
"Isn't it easier to travel now, though?"
"For you, yes. That works for individuals. But an army is a different matter."
An army is a different matter. One might imagine hundreds of soldiers in arms and armor crossing the mountains and think it plausible enough — but the northern range was not that kind of obstacle. The plank roads and newly laid paths, only three routes in total, made any passage impossible to conceal.
And attempting to cross the range without using those roads was nothing short of deciding to lose the war before it began.
"So even if I push things this far, there's nothing they can actually do to me. They'll try to shake things from the inside, that's all."
"You're surprisingly quick with the numbers, Grand Duke."
"And it's winter, isn't it? No one in the history of this world has been mad enough to attack the North in winter."
"The Crown Prince might be the sort to—"
"I know. But if he tries, all the better for us. Very much better."
Complacency invites disaster. Unless the South marched its entire military force northward, the mountain range would not be breached. Winter Castle was a place that required at least ten thousand men just to reach.
How many would die. Dying would be the fortunate outcome. If war came now, men would freeze to death long before a blade found them.
"A-as expected of the Grand Duke."
"Northerners don't flinch before Southerners. Isn't that right, Leo?"
"H-had you only given the order, I would have c-cut down every last one of those insolent w-wretches."
"So he says."
I glanced at Daniela as I spoke. The life had come rushing back into her expression. The hand resting beside mine still trembled faintly, but she had landed a blow. The fallen heroine's counterattack. She had pinpointed exactly what would sting.
I laid my hand over hers. There was still work to be done — to present her not as a woman who had been discarded, but as a woman of standing in her own right.
"We're going to see Marquess Roland now. Are you certain you're all right?"
"Of course. It isn't over yet, is it?"
"You don't have to push yourself. I've already arranged everything that needed arranging."
"Even so. Grand Duke — wouldn't it make a difference, having me there?"
She wasn't wrong, but something continued to nag at me. Bringing Daniela to the Barth family's domain had been, in part, a calculated move. If Daniela stepped forward in the negotiations or elsewhere, things might resolve more smoothly.
"You restored my dignity — just let me do this much..."
"Thank you for your help. Daniela."
Led by the maids, we arrived once more before the Marquess's door. Leo hurried ahead to pull it open. Shouldn't there at least be a knock, or some announcement of our presence?
The Marquess was seated exactly as he had been during the negotiations. Not a trace of the flustered look I had seen earlier. If anything, he appeared composed — almost defiant.
I pulled out a chair and offered it to Daniela. She rested one hand lightly on the armrest and settled into the seat.
"That—"
"Marquess. I owe you an apology for what transpired. An unfortunate incident."
"Not at all, Grand Duke."
"Still, a price must be paid. What is it you want, Marquess?"
Marquess Roland's mind was working rapidly. I could practically hear the calculations from where I stood. His own daughter sat before him, yet he could not bring himself to offer so much as a greeting. Where had it all gone wrong? But now was not the time to search for causes.
What mattered was determining what House Barth stood to gain from this.
"If you would first explain what has occurred, I would be grateful, Grand Duke."
"There was a fight at the banquet hall. Between the Crown Prince and — what was his name. That Southern brat, I can't recall."
"I meant the events before that."
"What? Are you referring to when I had Leo break that brat's arm?"
No matter how one circled around it, there was no avoiding a direct answer. From House Barth's perspective, the most pressing question was why their daughter was here, at the Grand Duke's side.
Daniela's eyes held no venom — only a quiet softness. This was not a place that called for fighting.
"I had heard that the Grand Duke of the North had no wife."
"That was true."
"Then what you're saying means what I think it—"
"Well. Not yet."
I made a show of deliberating. At the very least, I could not lie to Marquess Roland. There was something genuinely unfair about my position. I hadn't asked her to come. She had come of her own accord.
"For now, she is my guest. What the future holds, no one can say."
"Aren't you being rather candid?"
"I can hardly lie about it."
Marquess Roland fixed his attention on the exchange between us. Even as idle conversation, the ease of it — the natural rhythm. When had they become like this? How was one even supposed to make sense of this relationship?
"No need to deliberate, Marquess. Daniela will be welcomed in the North."
"Daniela is my daughter, and a child of great importance to our house."
The Marquess was not wrong. She had once been on the verge of marrying the Crown Prince. But when the engagement collapsed and another woman appeared at his side, had it not been Marquess Roland himself who sent Daniela to the North?
"I understand that — but was it not the Marquess who sent her to the North in the first place?"
"Daniela—"
"I received your meaning clearly, Marquess. That is precisely why the North has taken responsibility for her, and why I have brought her here today. Should you not, in fact, be thanking me?"
It was not the most principled argument, but the Marquess had indeed sent her north. From the moment the engagement shattered, House Barth's position had become precarious. Who could have known the betrothal would become a poison?
The remaining paths were few. Marry into another house, or enter a convent somewhere.
To shore up their standing, an alliance with some family had become necessary. But every attempt had failed, and they had been trying to put it behind them.
"Are you not glad, Marquess Roland? That your daughter is alive?"
"I am, Grand Duke."
"Your expression says otherwise. Did you expect Daniela to die in the North?"
"Nothing of the sort — I am glad to see her again like this."
"That is the nature of power. Even blood can be cast aside in an instant. The Imperial house must have frightened you greatly."
The Marquess said nothing. It was the truth. The moment she failed to become Crown Princess — and with another woman already at the Crown Prince's side — there was no place left for Daniela or House Barth to stand.
Everything they currently enjoyed could be stripped from them, and no one would find it strange.
"Please, Grand Duke."
"Daniela. Aren't you angry?"
"It's understandable. Here, it's simply how things are."
Daniela was smiling, but there was a bitterness to it. Blood could be the most powerful of justifications, yet it was also the easiest thing to discard.
Even when it caused pain — when there was simply no other way — it was always the blood ties that were abandoned first.
"Even knowing your father sent you to your death?"
"I don't see it that way."
"Why not? Didn't you read the letter?"
"Because I wished for my father's happiness. I prayed he would be safe."
Self-sacrifice. I watched the two of them — the Marquess and Daniela — reading each other's expressions. They both understood without needing to say it. This was how this father and daughter had lived all along.
"And the people of our house as well. It was my fault. The engagement to the Crown Prince wasn't my choice, but I tried my best to make it work."
"I know."
"But I couldn't. It felt like my failure. So I understand my father's heart. The feeling of having no other choice."
"I can't understand it. Why?"
Within the current that Daniela and I were steering, the Marquess had no choice but to watch in silence. This was a critical juncture. House Barth had abandoned Daniela.
But the North would not. That much had already been demonstrated. Yet if the Marquess were to take his own side here — what then?
"Because our house is weak. Only the Imperial family can protect us."
"Couldn't you have at least tried to resist?"
"I couldn't. There was too much depending on me."
"It's a tragedy. Daniela — a true tragedy."
The flow was moving in exactly the right direction. Marquess Roland tried to add his voice to it. The moment Daniela finished speaking, he began laying out his circumstances at length.
The negotiation itself had ceased to matter much. The Marquess's objective was something anyone could guess.
"Our house has nowhere left to turn, Grand Duke. The Imperial family continues to press us, and there is nothing we can do."
"A sorry state of affairs..."
"If the North were to lend our house its support, nothing like this would ever happen again."
I made a show of weighing it. The formula for forging an alliance bound by blood was simple enough.
"Is it not the simplest thing in the world to create a bond — a lasting, eternal alliance? Grand Duke!"
A justification of the grandest order.
Who would dare lay a hand on the family of the Grand Duke of the North — the family of the Grand Duchess of the North?
My answer did not come immediately; some degree of reservation was necessary. But the conclusion to be reached here was straightforward.
"A little more time will be needed — but yes. The North will help."
A new market had opened.