Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 142

11

Miesa looked around at the ten ministers seated again at the long round table. All of them were unable to hide their anxiety as they watched the queen’s expression. She saw the fear on their faces and vividly felt the invisible thorns hidden in the hard throne she sat on.

Miesa closed her eyes tightly. Her heart felt as though it was being torn into a thousand, no, ten thousand pieces. She cursed the weight of the crown. She even cursed Vermel, who was already dead and buried in a pit. As the target of her curse circled back toward her own fate, Miesa felt a familiar hand grasp her own.

When she opened her eyes, Eirik’s face came into view. He spoke calmly, as he always did, with a composed expression, “Please allow me to protect Your Majesty’s kingdom.”

Liar. Deceiver. It wasn’t long ago that he said he would live his life to the fullest, yet here he was again, speaking righteous words to her.

Miesa wanted to resent him.

“Please allow me to protect Your Majesty.”

If only she hadn’t noticed the anguish that briefly passed through his eyes as he uttered those words.

Miesa looked at him. To most people, Eirik’s face would still be hard to read, but she could tell. What lingered in his eyes was deep sorrow.

The question “Why?” soon gave way to understanding.

Eirik was not the type to enjoy slaughter or driven by a love of battle. So he could not possibly enjoy war. Yet he had grown up on the battlefield, survived countless brushes with death, and even after victory, had immediately set about the task of putting things in order. Even after elevating Miesa to the throne, he had always remained vigilant, preparing for any potential chaos.

Why hadn’t she realized that his life, too, was filled with danger and hardship, leaving him with no time for rest?

“……”

The overwhelming love he held for her had finally broadened her perspective. She now understood that she wasn’t the only one suffering in this situation; he, too, was sitting in a position that was too much to bear.

And yet, he was determined to fulfill his duty. How could she, then, tell him not to go? That would be no different than the childish tantrums of a little girl.

Moreover, her ascent to the throne wasn’t something she was born into or forced upon her; it was a choice she had made herself. She had risen to a position where she was responsible for the safety of her people and the honor of her nation, and yet all she had done so far was focus on her own revenge.

If she continued this way, how could she justify her resolve to live as a better person? She, too, needed to carry her own weight.

Miesa took a deep breath. In the current situation, what would befit the ruler of this nation?

“I order you Margrave…”

Her throat tightened, making it hard to speak. Miesa gasped for breath but couldn’t continue.

Eirik held her hand and stood there quietly, waiting for the queen to collect herself and issue a clear command.

“…To mobilize the troops.” After a long moment, she managed to compose herself and finish her sentence.

Eirik bowed his head to receive her command. “I will bring victory to Your Majesty and the kingdom.”

He kissed the back of Miesa’s hand before rising. Then, in an emotionless voice, he addressed the Marquise Crispin. “Marquise Crispin, how many troops can the Central Defense Force muster?”

“The total force, including regional deployment troops, is forty thousand. I understand that the number of troops that can be mobilized from the lords of the regions with surplus forces is just over twenty thousand.”

Although Rakane Crispin lacked combat experience, her years of aspiration for this position had made her quick to grasp the situation. After hearing her response, Eirik briefly pondered before reporting to Miesa.

“The Cladnier family’s forces number seventeen thousand, and the Principality of Sidate has around thirty thousand troops. Although their numbers seem substantial, there is no competent commander among them, so there is little cause for concern.”

“……”

“It would be burdensome to pull too many troops from the Central Defense Force, so I will request only five thousand men as support.”

Noticing the slight movement of her eyebrows, Eirik offered further explanation. “We must also establish a defensive line in case Cladis is breached, so it is appropriate to request minimal troop support. Additionally, during wartime, public sentiment can waver, leading to security breaches, so the stability of the capital must be our top priority.”

As his explanation continued, Duke Salachez, who had been sitting on one side of the round table, quickly stood up and brought out maps and markers, spreading them out on the table. Eirik walked over to the center, staring at the map for a while.

Picking up the markers with practiced ease, he arranged them on the map, delineating the first, second, and third defense lines from the Cladis region to the capital.

“Your Majesty.”

Eirik called her for approval. Miesa, who had been sitting, stood weakly and approached the map.

“In the event that Cladis is occupied, I will concentrate the Central Defense Force’s troops on the first defensive line. We will buy time and reinforce the second and third lines with all the available troops from the regional lords.”

Miesa could only nod in response.

“The Marquise Crispin will be responsible for the third defense line. If the situation deteriorates to this point, Your Majesty should relocate to the Halieti region with the captain of the Guard.”

Having calculated everything in his mind, Eirik explained the worst-case scenario.

“Of course, that won’t happen.”

His words offered little comfort to Miesa. The two exchanged a brief glance, but neither let it show as they returned their attention to the map.

The meeting dragged on. After discussing various matters with the Minister of Finance, Eirik once again spoke to Miesa. “Your Majesty, I will estimate the supplies needed by this evening and submit them for approval.”

“I’ll approve them as soon as I receive them.”

“Thank you. I will now inform the knights of the Cladnier family of the royal command and prepare for deployment.”

“Please do so.”

Eirik bowed respectfully before leaving the council chamber. Silence fell once more.

The ministers glanced at each other nervously. They weren’t sure whether they should offer comfort to the queen or what they could possibly say to console her.

But the words that soon came from the queen made it clear that she needed no comfort.

“Each department should prepare a plan for operating under wartime conditions. I will receive your reports here tomorrow.”

Late at night, when Eirik returned from the Cladnier estate, Miesa was asleep, slumped over her desk in the office.

Eirik’s gaze fell on the documents on the desk. The approval papers he had submitted intermittently throughout the day had all been completed. As he quietly reviewed them one by one, Eirik placed the papers down without a word.

Then, as he carefully lifted Miesa from the chair to avoid waking her, Duke Salachez approached.

“Her Majesty has reviewed everything. Preparations will begin tomorrow morning.”

“You’ve worked hard. Did Her Majesty eat properly?”

“She ate, though only a small amount.”

“That’s a relief.”

He carried Miesa out of the office with great care. Though she had ascended to the throne, she was still as light as a small cat.

“Mmm.”

“Shh, go back to sleep. We’re almost at the bedroom.”

Despite his soothing words and gentle caress, Miesa opened her eyes as soon as he laid her on the bed.

“Eirik,” she called in a sleepy voice. “What’s the situation now, exactly?”

“…Judging from the information we’ve gathered, it won’t be easy. But we have definite advantages as well.”

After gathering additional information at the Cladnier estate, Eirik didn’t lie to reassure her.

“In any case, predictions in war are often meaningless. You never know how things will unfold until you’re in the thick of it. Historically, there have been cases where battles were lost, but wars were won.”

Miesa sighed softly as she stared into space. “All I care about is that you return safely.”

“Of course, I’ll return safely. And with the antidote.”

Eirik caressed her forehead and cheek with a faint smile. As she gazed up at him, Miesa murmured, “You must be suffering too.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve only been able to sleep in a proper bed for a year, and now you have to head to the battlefield again.”

Eirik, who had been sitting at the edge of the bed, fell silent, looking down at her. The thought that he, who had always taken care of her meals and rest, was now the one being worried about…

“I feel complicated. I’m happy, proud, and… No, you don’t need to worry about such things. I’m content as long as Your Majesty is well.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Miesa wanted to show him a confident demeanor. That’s why she spoke each word with emphasis.

“I will take good care of domestic affairs while you’re gone, and I’ll ensure there are no issues with the nobles.”

Because the first reason he loved her was her strength.

“I’ll stay healthy too. I won’t skip meals, and I’ll sleep well.”

“……”

“So just come back safely. That’s all I want.” She forced herself to smile so that she wouldn’t seem weak.

She added strength to her voice to ensure it didn’t sound like she was begging. “Please return safely. And when you do, let’s live the way we want… together.”

It was clear that this was not what he had expected.

As he noticed her trembling lips and the awkwardness in her forced smile, Eirik realized she was pushing herself too hard.

At that moment, the thread of reason he had clung to snapped.