"If not in coin, then what could His Imperial Majesty possibly offer us?"
I wanted to set the board. It was obvious the Emperor would have only a handful of options to choose from.
But the Emperor's capriciousness might lead him to some peculiar choice.
There would be several possibilities, and I needed to close off the exits. If an absurd proposal came my way, we would have to start from scratch.
I let out a deliberate snort and feigned indifference. If the Emperor could not offer money — if he could not give the North something of genuine value —
"If we're speaking of a new title, what would that even be? I am already the sole duke on the continent, a Margrave, and Supreme Commander of the North."
"It would not be a title conferred upon Your Highness personally, but rather an elevation of the North's standing as a whole."
The envoy from the South gave a sly little laugh. His confidence was plain — he was certain this was a proposal no one could have anticipated.
Jackson stood nearby with a faint smile. The southern delegation carried themselves with considerable assurance. The conviction that this offer would please me had spread through their entire party.
"The North has magnificently repelled the incursions of the barbarians time and again. The South has always been moved by the North's sacrifices."
"Flattery. After forgetting us all this while."
"And so His Imperial Majesty has decided to grant all the lands and peoples of the North a new nation in which to live."
"A new nation?"
They would not be relocating the people of the North. Moving the entire northern population was simply impossible, and any northerners resettled in the South would inevitably stir up trouble there.
Besides, they would have no desire to create a new power structure.
"Precisely — to make the whole of the North into a single nation."
Müller spoke with an air of deep emotion, but the expressions of those gathered in the Hall of Winter were far from pleased.
It was a staggering declaration, yet there was a particular reason no one seemed surprised.
I stroked my chin and kept my manner deliberately flat. The southern delegation began to read the room.
"I cannot say what you were thinking, but may I take your words as coming directly from His Imperial Majesty?"
"You may. His Imperial Majesty has entrusted all matters pertaining to the North to—"
"The laws of the Empire have fallen into considerable disrepair. Why does this sound to me like an invitation to become a traitor?"
"N-no, not at all! Your Highness!"
The pressure had already been cranked to its maximum. A modest number of northern troops had been stationed on the Barth estate.
And the Grand Duke's Banner hanging from Barth Castle spoke eloquently of my displeasure. Jackson and Roy had apparently made quite a scene at the Imperial Palace as well.
"Here is how I see it. If the North declares independence, we would no longer need to hand over anything we've been obligated to provide — and future tributes would be off the table entirely. That seems to be the calculation behind this."
"N-not in the slightest, Your Highness!"
"Then where, pray tell, are all the subsidies and tributes the North should have received by now?"
"W-well, that is... if you would give us just a little time—"
The southern envoy would know full well. That was precisely why he had been sent along with Jackson.
The pressure had already reached its peak.
The mere presence of northern troops in the South was enough to set the other nobles trembling with unease.
We would not strike first — but the problem was that the current situation was a powder keg on the verge of ignition.
The noble factions were fracturing, and a political war was on the verge of breaking out. What began as a war of words would escalate, inch by inch, until it stood at the threshold of actual war.
House Barth had its betrothal to the Crown Prince dissolved and should have been reduced to a paper tiger with nothing to its name.
And yet, as it happened, northern troops were garrisoned there. If those troops were to enter the fighting —
It would not be unreasonable for northern forces to cross the mountain range. There was even a precise justification for it: the purpose of "internal suppression" to quell the chaos within the South.
The Emperor would want to avoid northern troops marching south.
It was obvious I would not take the Emperor's side — and even if I did, the North would swiftly devour the South whole.
"I find this deeply disagreeable. It rather seems as though the South views us as traitors."
"I assure you, absolutely not!"
"Nevertheless, it appears there is still room for negotiation."
Müller's eyes lit up. Room for negotiation. I pretended to mull it over.
What I wanted from the South had already been decided. But for the sake of the negotiation, I needed to open with an excessive demand.
"What if we were to receive every gate and fortress along the road leading to the Barth estate?"
"That is entirely beyond the scope of what the Imperial Palace can authorize! Is there not some other proposal you might consider?"
"If you have something else in mind, let me hear that proposal first."
Müller carefully drew a small letter from inside his coat. He passed it to Jackson, then knelt again.
The letter that reached my hands through Jackson bore the imperial family's seal. I opened the envelope and read through it slowly.
What the Emperor understood amounted to nothing more than surface appearances. A remark that the North was doing its best to hold back the nomadic tribes through self-sufficiency. And a statement that he would permit the recent dealings with House Barth and provide certain conveniences to the North.
But nowhere in the letter could I find a single word specifying what those conveniences would actually be.
"His Imperial Majesty has agreed to extend every convenience regarding the gold collected from House Barth."
"That is hardly the point. And the notion that it would cover fifteen years' worth of arrears is frankly laughable."
I handed the letter to Jackson. The handwriting was so peculiar it was barely legible. Müller appeared to be wringing out proposals of a similar nature. This was why the men who did the actual work had it so hard.
"Then what if we include that, along with authorization for every convenience pertaining to the road leading to House Barth?"
"That is not something the Imperial Palace can decide on its own..."
"Surely His Imperial Majesty can extend sufficient convenience regarding the use of a road?"
"Even if that were possible, the opinions of the other nobles would need to be—"
It seemed he had not thought this far ahead. Müller was breaking into a cold sweat.
He must have sensed the scope of the proposal expanding by the moment. But I needed to wedge myself into even the smallest opening.
"You seem troubled. Very well, let us do it this way."
"It is simply that I had not anticipated this. Your Highness, regarding this matter—"
"Free passage and all conveniences on the road connecting the North and House Barth, guaranteed for fifteen years."
"Hmm..."
That ought to be quite attractive. They still did not appear to know the precise nature of the dealings between House Barth and the North.
Even if they did, the imperial house might well think they had contained the situation cheaply.
And if they thought a little further, they might even believe they had a leash around the North's neck.
"Bring me a written agreement on these terms, and I will accept it."
"W-well, that is—"
"I would prefer you not come back with any other proposals. I do have my limits of patience."
Müller ultimately resolved to bring back the written agreement.
Lending a road was no great matter, and demanding fifteen years' worth of unpaid sums would be far more of a headache.
I rose first from the Hall of Winter. What came next was the domain of the functionaries. There would be no banquet to receive the southern delegation.
I returned to the study. Daniela was seated in the chair, reading a popular novel — volume three of *Atlas*, which she had not had a proper chance to read lately given how busy things had been.
Come to think of it, I had once meant to ask Daniela whether she might try writing a popular novel herself.
"Reading?"
"Oh — yes. Yes, my lord."
She snapped the book shut. I sat down on the edge of the bed. The arrangement was entirely reversed.
Normally, I would be working at the study desk while Daniela sat on the bed, facing me.
"What were you reading?"
"Volume three of *Atlas*. It's my first time — it really is wonderful."
"Isn't it? I was probably the first to receive and read it."
I idly ran my hand along the edge of the bed. That, too, had been something Daniela used to do.
Something feels off.
The arrangement kept being the exact opposite of usual.
Daniela had her arm resting on the desk, watching me with a quiet, steady gaze. I felt oddly self-conscious.
"It's the other way around, isn't it?"
Daniela was the first to speak. There was something natural about it.
"What is?"
I wanted to pretend I didn't know. My hand moved faster along the bed.
"Well — normally I'm the one sitting on the bed, and you're the one sitting here."
Daniela had noticed the same thing I had. She was becoming more and more at ease with this, somehow. Had she been reading some strange novel lately? Why was she like this?
"By the way, my lord."
"Yes."
Daniela moved toward me slowly. She brought her face close to mine. N-negotiating intent — wait, wait—
"Why are you blushing like that?"
"I — no, you just came rather close."
"There was a hair stuck to your face."
Long fingers passed back and forth near the bridge of my nose. A single strand of hair fell to the floor. Then Daniela turned and walked back to the desk.
"Now that I think about it — don't we know terribly little about each other?"
It was an abrupt question. And perhaps not wrong. What I knew: House Barth, a noble daughter of the South. The heroine whose betrothal to the Crown Prince had been broken. And the Grand Duchess.
"I was just reading something in *Atlas*. I thought we might try a game that lovers play."
A soft, knowing laugh.
A peculiar smile crossed her face.