7

We’d finished swapping out the gear and resupplying. Now it was time to get back to our real job—protecting the Second Princess.

From Kreuzl to the buffer zone. We’d meet up with the King’s forces there, at the fortress.

The spot the Empire picked for the talks wasn’t, technically, the buffer zone.

It was one of the towns under Fatal’s control—Orbella, a fairly large town. Big enough to host a meeting between royal families. Mostly, though, it was under Fatal’s grip, and the closest town to the Empire right now. That’s probably why.

A safe place to run to, first thing, if anything goes wrong. When you’ve been at war just days ago, you don’t skip the basics, not even for a peace talk.

On the empire’s side, they’d probably prefer some third party with no stake in it—but the way things have played out, and with how the situation’s shifted, there’s nothing but enemies around the empire now.

In a way, there’s nowhere left where both sides would agree to meet, except for Orvela.

I heard that explanation while we were on the move, and we settled the guard positions and order during the talks, working it out with the royal side’s troops.

Of course, the royal guard is Edgar, the Guard Knight. It’s been a while since I saw him—still looks more like a butler than a knight, really.

We used a rest stop along the way to Orvela to talk through all sorts of things and make decisions, and arrived in Orvela two days before the talks began.

It’s my first time stepping into an imperial town, but I don’t see much difference from Fatal, really.

Brick and stone apartments line up side by side, the streets paved solid.

Walk on them and they don’t even tremble—must be built real tight. Well, I guess it’s to be expected, since this is one of the main trade routes through the empire.

We arrive at the inn where the Emperor and the princess will be staying, under heavy guard.

We’ve taken over one of the finest inns in town. Staff’s all ours—no original employees left, everyone’s on leave. Though we’ve paid up front, so they won’t be complaining.

“This must be the princess’s room, huh?”

I step inside the prepared room and glance out the window.

No other inns around here match its height. Feels like it’s sticking up a whole head above the rest. Means we don’t have to worry much about attacks from outside. Guards patrol the roof nonstop, and every entrance’s manned by soldiers.

While I’m checking the safety, the princess leaps onto the bed, bounces a couple times from the momentum, then flops down and lies still.

“Tired…”

“I’ll get tea ready~”

Ange heads to the kitchen set up in the side room and starts preparing tea.

Meanwhile, the princess flails her feet, kicking off her shoes, then squirms her way up the bed. Ah, wrinkles in the dress… gonna get scolded for this.

“Ah! Lady Ines! The dress is all wrinkled!”

See, just as I thought.

Seiria, the princess’s attendant, rushes over, pouting, then lifts the princess right up.

The princess is completely limp now—just lets herself be carried. Well, I’d better step out for now.

She’s going to change clothes soon, and a man like me would just be in the way. Better to leave before I’m told to.

Just as I was stepping out of the room, I heard Seiria say thank you. I gave a quick wave back and stepped out, waiting with the guards at the door.

Through the hallway window, I could see the main street straight ahead. Not many people around. Most shops shut tight. Well, it’s a town under strict foreign rule—makes sense, really.

Still, I’m glad the people aren’t rioting. Means we don’t have to be the ones breaking things. If they start, we’ll have to kill. Soldiers can handle that, maybe. But ordinary folk? No, I don’t want to do that.

But if the emperor’s coming, the people might just explode. So, I’ve already sent word to the townsfolk—stay indoors for the two days of talks, and we’re handing out food. Still, better keep the guards tight.

A little while later, the door creaked open just a sliver. Ange’s face peeked out.

“Already done?”

“Yeah, all good.”

After getting Ange’s permission, I slipped back into the room. There, the princess in her nightgown was sprawled across the bed again, just as before. Papers lay scattered by her hand—probably for the talks—and she was reading them while half-lidded, half-asleep.

“Eld.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“This meeting… well, it’s between nations, so I doubt I’ll have much to say. Brother’ll do the talking, and the truce terms’ll just be confirmed as we’ve already agreed on them.”

Well, that’s how it usually goes. Kings and queens are always busy. So negotiations between countries happen beforehand—advisors hash out the details, and the monarch just signs the final draft.

That’s exactly what’s happening now. The advisors have already been bargaining, and the main points are settled. The papers she’s reading now? Probably just the same kind.

“Would’ve been nice to stick around till the end, but the big picture seems pretty solid, if you ask me.”

She said that, still sprawled out on the couch, shoving a single sheet of paper toward me.

Read it, huh?

I took it, looked back at her. She just gave a tiny nod, eyes fixed on me. So I lowered my gaze to the paper.

Yep—still about the ceasefire terms.

Five clauses, about ten points each. Roughly fifty points total.

No point reading it all here, so I skimmed just the five.

How borders are set, limits on aircraft ownership, ban on Avilabomb production, disclosure of refining facilities, restrictions on hiring mercenaries.

Five points, roughly like this. The ten items break it down further—specific numbers, penalties for violations, all that. Oh, and apparently the Empire’s gotta pay reparations to any country it’s invaded.

Not too detailed, but nothing’s obviously wrong.

Still… feels a bit too lenient on the Empire.

Honestly, I expected stricter terms. I said so straight out, and the princess corrected me right away.

“Squeeze too hard, and they’ll just struggle to get free. As long as they’re moving, they won’t go wild. They’ll try to make the most of what’s left. It’s tricky to judge, but if we don’t judge right, we’ll just end up back in war.”

“Ah… I see.”

I think this is about right—keeps the impact on citizens to a minimum. The public won’t get riled up into war so easily. Looks like food trade’s been liberalized, too.

So if we keep the common folk under control, the higher-ups can’t move, huh?

Back in Armunale’s prime, nobles did most of the fighting. But now, with the Abnomule forces taking over, more and more common soldiers are on the front lines.

Can’t ignore the common folk’s feelings, then.

“Still, this is just a mid-point report—might change a bit more.”

“Up to Your Majesty, really.”

“You’ve studied imperial doctrine, haven’t you, brother? Should be fine. Feels like we might actually get to relax a little, for once.”

“Then shall we take a walk? The Overd Emperor’s coming—won’t be safe to go out.”

“True enough. Let’s stroll a bit, then.”

And just as I sat up, the princess looked down at her clothes. Then she flopped back onto the bed.

"Changing clothes is such a hassle."

"Haha, well then. I’ll go scout the surrounding terrain. Maps are fine, but I’d rather see it with my own eyes. I’ll leave Ange here."

"Got it. Thanks."

I set off, waved off by her wobbly hand.

The next day, the Emperor arrived. The town grew tense, thick with unease.

Under heightened alert, both kings gathered for the final preparations of the talks.

And as scheduled, the negotiations began. After two days of discussion, the ceasefire treaty was signed without a hitch.

The terms were nearly identical to what we’d seen before.

A few details changed—where the borders lay, how much reparations were, how many Abnomyle units remained—but that was all. Trade in military goods was banned, but food and everyday goods would keep flowing as before. The new border lines? Fatal would designate the Rampolet Plain as a buffer zone and fully occupy it.

The towns we’re currently in, and the others we’ve taken, would be released one by one. Honestly, holding onto them wouldn’t help much, not for defense, not for moving supplies. If anything, it’d just be more risk—locals might riot and attack the soldiers stationed there. So better to just get it over with and free them already.

All went smoothly, and now we were on our way back to Fatal.

“Eld! Once we’re back, there’s a mountain of things to do—reconstruction aid, reorganizing the army, surveying the Ranporte Plains, building the base. And seriously, we need to start raising a successor to the Oversight.”

“Ah yes, Your Highness, you were always just a temporary stand-in until then.”

“Because I’m a woman. Once the war’s over, there’s no real point in keeping me in charge, is there? We’ll need to get serious about marriage talks.”

“Marriage at last, Your Highness? How touching.”

The engagement with Prince Aldo of Welia, left on hold for so long without even a proper meeting, would finally get serious now the war was over.

At first, the Princess wasn’t keen—though she seems to have come around, somehow. Good thing, really. If she kept pouting forever, her retainers would be at their wit’s end.

What’s with that fatherly tone? Marriage? I’ve no plans to rush into that. Not a chance while that boy—Aldo’s still stuck on his otaku habits.

Well, it’s not exactly a strange hobby. Just likes reading, that’s all.

You don’t get it, it’s not that simple! Last time we met, I don’t know what he got inspired by, but he’s suddenly into cosplay. I’ve got a whole pile of costumes ready, he even wrote about it in a letter…

That’s…

How do I even say this? Oh right—back at the last meeting, that maid of yours dressed up as a book character, and he thought it was some kind of cosplay. So that’s where he got the idea, huh.

I’ll never wear something like that after I’m married! For now, I’ll keep in touch—just to straighten out that boy’s otaku nonsense.

The princess, all fire and fury over her fiancé’s fixations. But I know—otaku burn brighter the tighter you squeeze them.

Same as post-war cleanup. Someday, the princess’ll figure it out, I reckon. Though I won’t be the one to tell her.

Still, if she keeps thinking this way about her fiancé, marriage’ll probably go just fine.

I watch the princess raising her fist at the monitor, her face lit with determination, and send her a gentle look.

Next time: Epilogue