Kartina could not forgive this.
Setting aside her relationship with the Crown Prince, the Grand Duke of the North's presence was making itself felt throughout the South.
House Kadla had also been looking to redefine its relationship with the North,
and rumors were circulating among houses beyond the Marquess's own that the North wished to improve its ties with various southern houses.
House Barth, which had long flaunted its influence —
and all the effort she had poured into seizing that position for herself.
"Kartina. It seems wresting the gold vein from House Barth is still beyond our reach for now."
"So it would seem, Father. But we must find some way to check the North."
"Those northern brutes. I never thought those savages would pull something like this."
Baron Remi stroked his beard and began to scheme against the North.
What was the North most worried about right now?
They were likely already stretched thin dealing with the nomadic tribes.
If that was the case, then by moving other houses to create a two-front war, the North's influence could be eliminated.
That was what Baron Remi believed.
Because he knew nothing.
"Where is the army that can move the fastest right now?"
"It needs to be a region close to the North. That way they can move to check them immediately."
"It seems you're thinking along the same lines as I am."
Kartina smiled quietly.
No matter how elite the North's army might be —
if the nomadic tribes and the southern forces could be made to fight them on two fronts, the North's influence would be crushed.
They would be unable to sustain the war chest and provisions
needed to maintain their influence over the South.
"What are the Darapont mercenaries doing right now?"
"Probably resting, since they have nothing to do."
"House Darapont isn't that far from the North, is it?"
"No, it isn't. But there is a house that could properly station the Darapont mercenary company."
"Which one?"
"House Leily — the domain closest to the North."
Baron Remi snapped his fist into his palm. House Leily was positioned at the gateway to both the North and House Barth's domain.
House Leily had originally been close to House Barth's territory,
and so it had long been a place where House Barth's influence ran strong.
But after what had happened to Daniela at the academy,
Leily had been maintaining close ties with House Darapont.
There were also intelligence reports suggesting they looked unfavorably upon House Barth for continuing to trade with the North.
"It would be ideal if the Darapont mercenaries could join forces with House Leily's army and launch an attack."
"There is a way to make that happen."
"How?"
"If I send a single letter, I can persuade the young lord of Darapont."
"Are you confident?"
"I've already received a reply from Riroy von Callum saying he will provide the funding."
Kartina smiled quietly. If House Callum provided the money and the Darapont mercenary company could launch the attack —
the road between House Barth and the North would inevitably be severed.
It would not take long.
House Darapont would be desperate to escape the Imperial family's scrutiny by any means necessary.
"I'll write the letter at once. It won't take long."
"Heh heh heh... Yes. Let us use this opportunity to eliminate House Barth once and for all."
"The age of House de Bosch is coming."
Kartina wrote a letter and sent it to House Darapont.
The Marquess's council ended, and several days passed.
The Darapont mercenary company began to move slowly toward House Leily's domain.
"Hmm, the Darapont mercenaries have arrived, you say?"
"My lord Count Leily."
Count Leily came face to face with the vanguard of the mercenary company, the first to arrive.
The most seasoned army in the South, by reputation.
But given the nature of mercenaries who moved for coin, they were not the most trustworthy of men.
"You've brought the gold coins to pay our house, I trust?"
"Indeed, my lord. Margrave Darapont sends his regards."
"Yes, yes. Let's have a look at that purse, then."
The vanguard captain opened the purse and displayed the gold coins.
A pouch roughly the size of a small child was stuffed full of them.
"All we need from you is to serve as a forward base when we strike the North."
"Don't worry about that. Those northern dogs — I simply cannot stomach watching them play at being civilized."
"Ha ha ha... Have no fear, my lord. We'll show them what true civilization looks like."
"I'm counting on you!"
When House Leily received the letter from House Darapont,
a sinister scheme had taken shape in the Count's mind.
If it worked, might this not be his opportunity to claim the North for himself?
He would not take the legitimate house name for himself, of course —
but he had in mind the intention of placing a proxy in that seat.
"Has Andrea Wintergard arrived at House Leily's domain?"
"Indeed. To think that such an opportunity would come to me at this point in my life."
"Margrave Darapont has declared his support for Andrea Wintergard."
"Excellent. Excellent..."
From what he had heard, the Grand Duke was currently taking special measures regarding Wintergard.
But during the North's civil war, there had been exactly one family that had fled south —
and a descendant of that family was said to be alive.
No one would have thought of it, and no one would have wanted it.
"If you win a war, things change as a matter of course, don't they?"
"Indeed, my lord Count."
"Then I shall put my trust in you."
House Leily had been searching for a pretext to strike the North,
and they had found their man.
Andrea Wintergard. A descendant of Wintergard — with the 'von' conspicuously absent from the name.
A very, very distant relation of the current Grand Ducal house, but a Wintergard nonetheless.
That utterly contemptible southern scheme —
all while having no idea it was drawing the Grand Duke's wrath upon them.
—
"You're telling me to deliver this to His Grace the Grand Duke?"
"Is there some problem?"
"Ha ha ha..."
As the Grand Duke was on leave, it was Interior Minister Hexon who received the visitors in the Hall of Winter.
He had not taken the seat, of course, but he held the Darapont letter squarely in his hands.
The Darapont envoy had arrived at a remarkably inopportune moment.
Winter Castle had been decorated in an unusually lavish fashion,
adorned throughout with flowers and ribbons.
"This is no jest — this letter truly represents House Darapont's sincere intent?"
"It conveys the Margrave's position faithfully, my lord."
"I cannot bring myself to read this abomination. Berdo, would you read it?"
Minister Berdo, who had been standing at Hexon's side, began to read the letter slowly.
His expression did not merely stiffen — it crumpled entirely.
An abomination. An utterly revolting abomination.
Berdo, as though he could not bear to read another word, passed the letter to the person beside him.
"Good grief. The very act of being asked to read this is deeply, deeply offensive."
"What on earth does it say..."
Zamuchin, who had been staying near Winter Castle for the Grand Duke's wedding, also began to read the letter.
His face grew redder by the moment. He had read plenty of letters from nomadic tribes,
but never one that grated on him quite like this.
The letter began to circulate slowly among the ministers and nobles.
"This — this — bastard, this madman, this absolute madman!"
The reaction from House de Wintergard was the first to break. He could not even get his curses out properly through his rage.
The fury that had begun with House de Wintergard's outrage now crashed down upon the Darapont envoys.
"Are you truly in your right minds to say such a thing? You would have to be utterly deranged!"
"You expect us to deliver a letter like this to His Grace the Grand Duke? You must have lost your minds!"
"This will not stand. I will have your heads to wash away this insult to His Grace!"
Bring me an axe! The words from House de Wintergard, more scream than speech, filled the Hall of Winter.
Even Hexon, who had maintained the most composure of anyone present, stood with his face set like stone.
"Rather than deliver this to His Grace the Grand Duke, I would sooner kill every last one of you and be done with it."
"Hexon! Just hand me an axe! I'll finish this myself!"
"Calm yourselves. You are certain this is your intent?"
The Darapont envoys held their heads high.
The moment they answered yes to Hexon's question —
everything was decided.
This letter would be delivered to the Grand Duke,
and what his reaction would be was beyond anyone's imagination.
The letter's contents were so outrageously insolent that no one wished to show it to His Grace —
yet it could be summarized in a single sentence.
"You are saying that this... who? Andrea Wintergard? That this person has a more legitimate claim than the Grand Duke?"
"Exactly as written in the letter."
"And therefore, House Darapont refuses to recognize the current Grand Duke?"
"That is correct."
"We have nothing more to say."
Hexon dismissed the envoys. If he kept them here any longer — they would all end up dead.
He almost thought it would be a mercy if that were all it took to end the matter.
"Hexon! Give me five hundred soldiers. I'll go and smash every last one of their skulls!"
"Minister Hexon! Lend me the troops. I'll have it all sorted out before His Grace returns!"
The fury of the military was reaching toward the heavens.
But the greater concern lay elsewhere.
"I had intended to proceed directly to the wedding upon His Grace's return, and now this..."
"That is... that is..."
"Would it not be better to finish the wedding first, then deal with this?"
"But this matter must be reported to His Grace immediately."
"That's true, and yet..."
"If we fail to deliver this letter, that itself will draw His Grace's wrath."
By whose authority — by whose authority —
would anyone dare question the legitimacy of Theodor von Wintergard?
Hexon ultimately resolved to deliver the letter without delay.
But —
the wedding would have to proceed as planned...