Chapter 102: For That Man’s Sake 2

When Cazeros had first spoken of that man – Santara Andreas, son of a Bohemian lord – two emotions had surfaced in Duchess Catleena’s mind.

One was a mother’s lament for the anguish her daughter would inevitably face due to the nation’s overarching policies.

The other was curiosity about this ‘Santara’ who had so thoroughly captivated her stubbornly inflexible daughter’s heart.

According to Cazeros, like herself – formerly the Dragonian Princess in disguise as a Paladin – Santara had concealed his identity to serve as a Holy Knight. Yet after becoming disillusioned by the Church’s corruption and subsequent excommunication, he had reverted to his birthright as the heir to a Bohemian count.

An already highly irregular background.

Moreover, Cazeros continuously extolled his virtues as an idealized cleric while simultaneously praising his innovative prowess in addressing seemingly insurmountable challenges through unconventional means.

Though skeptical of blindly accepting her daughter’s words at face value, the duchess had nonetheless instructed her subordinates to thoroughly investigate this ‘Santara’ – harboring a measured curiosity about the figure.

And the subsequent findings had prompted her present fury.

News that Santara had promptly taken a new fiancée upon Cazeros’s departure could only be interpreted as him callously toying with her beloved daughter’s affections.

“This vile wretch… Daring to trifle with my precious daughter’s heart due to his own lack of decency? I shall never forgive this. He will undoubtedly face commensurate retribution…”

Grinding her teeth as rage consumed her, the duchess turned to the woman serving as both guard and secretary beside her – a softly-spoken individual named Arachne.

“Well then, Your Grace, how shall we proceed? Shall we inform Princess Cazeros?”

“Hmm… Perhaps that would be unwise…”

Though initially enraged, the duchess carefully pondered Arachne’s suggestion before slowly shaking her head in refusal.

“…No, for now, we shall keep this confidential. Even if we reveal the truth, she is unlikely to believe us outright. More likely, in attempting to verify it herself, she will only redouble her efforts to escape this place. Better we feign ignorance for the present.”

“I understand your reasoning.”

Certainly, disclosing the facts could potentially compel Cazeros to renounce her feelings for Santara.

However, the timing remained inopportune – given Cazeros’s already volatile emotional state.

In her current mindset, she would likely disregard their words entirely, only further agitating her restlessness.

In the worst case, overwhelming despair could drive her to reckless extremes.

Thus, the duchess decided to bide her time while considering how best to address the man responsible for so deeply wounding her daughter’s heart.

Yet no matter her fury, she also recognized the constraints upon rash actions.

As the ruling duchess of this ancient Dragonian capital Sophia – once the empire’s very seat – and a figure of considerable influence, she possessed ample military might to wage open war upon Bohemia if she so desired.

The forces under her direct command alone numbered 20,000, potentially exceeding 40,000 with her neighboring vassals’ contributions.

Certainly, with the Turk Sultanate and Hungarian Kingdom bordering her domains, unchecked aggression remained unviable.

Yet if she truly wished, utterly crushing Bohemia’s war-ravaged remnants was well within her capabilities.

However, regrettably, putting such thoughts into practice remained impossible from her present position.

‘As much as I would love to immediately dispatch armies to obliterate Bohemia… As I have already explained to Cazeros, I cannot recklessly interfere in western affairs. I cannot undermine the empire’s fundamental policies with my own hands.’

Just as providing the aid to Bohemia that Cazeros had requested proved unfeasible, so too was outright destroying them – for the very same reasons binding the duchess’s hands.

Yet neither did she intend to leave Bohemia – or more precisely, that wretch Santara – be.

‘I normally disdain such underhanded methods. But present circumstances leave me with few superior options…’

Overt state-level actions or open conflicts between territories were impossible for now.

However, that limitation only applied to official, publicly visible endeavors.

Unofficial, covert operations remained viable without jeopardizing the nation.

Of course, given Bohemia’s presence of the relatively renowned General Turen, ensuring a clean resolution necessitated deploying assets of commensurate capability at minimum.

And Catleena, as the ruling duchess, commanded exactly such potent forces at her disposal.

“Arachne.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Summon them at once – Bloody and Soul. There is an important mission to entrust them with.”

“…Understood. I shall make the arrangements immediately.”

With a slight tinge of apprehension, Arachne respectfully bowed before departing to carry out the duchess’s orders.

Once alone, a chilling smile crept across Catleena’s lips as she exuded a subdued, sinister aura.

‘Very well then… Let us see if the prodigious talents our daughter so fervently praised in that man truly measure up…’

“…Could I be mistaken…?”

Lying upon her bed, endlessly ruminating, Cazeros found herself utterly devoid of viable solutions in that moment.

Not merely an escape plan, but any means to somehow aid the surely struggling Santara alone seemed beyond her current grasp.

‘No matter how I ponder it, the crux remains my mother’s unwavering stance…’

Though a princess, she was but the youngest daughter – holding no substantive authority as a non-heir.

Her status as the youngest had previously afforded some leeway with her parents heeding her words.

Yet in the present circumstances, relying on such favor proved futile.

Above all, her obstinate mother’s utter lack of compromise meant reversing any firm decision was virtually impossible.

‘Honestly…what makes Mother so unbendingly stubborn? I shall never become such an inflexible parent myself.’

Lamenting her helpless predicament while fruitlessly tossing about, a certain realization suddenly surfaced within Cazeros’s thoughts:

‘No, wait. Come to think of it…there may be one way to sway Mother’s obduracy…’

The chances were admittedly slim.

This approach hinged upon an individual whose very face she could scarcely recall.

If they simply dismissed her overtures as a stranger’s ramblings, the entire endeavor would promptly collapse.

Yet Cazeros also recognized her lack of alternatives.

Grasping at straws, she could only take up her quill and parchment.

‘Fortuitously, I do possess discreet means to send correspondence that way. It may take some time, but…’