Ch.627Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from the Cold Country

“A page boy was sent from the Kremlin. Officially it’s a courtesy call, but I’m not sure exactly who it is. It’s definitely not Damil ‘Imperator’ or ‘Princeps.'”

Someone from the imperial palace has sent a messenger to the Grand Duchess.

For reference, a page boy refers to a young servant of a lord in medieval Europe.

Imperator means ‘Emperor of the Roman Empire,’ while Princeps is a Latin term that has changed meaning over time but typically refers to the ‘First Citizen’ or ‘leader of the Senate.’

It’s also the etymology of the word ‘prince.’

There were two reasons why Camilla was being so cautious with her words. One was that she was conscious of the Imperial Security agents lurking nearby, and the other was that she had been warned to be careful.

“This is as secretive as Chatham House. Has something happened?”

“The professor was insisting that I follow the rules for once today. She was so adamant about it. I doubt even Chatham House is this cautious.”

“You should have listened to her in the first place. She must have had good reason to be so strict.”

“What did I ever do wrong?”

As expected, the Grand Duchess was the one who had silenced Camilla.

She wouldn’t want internal imperial affairs leaking to the outside.

In these turbulent times, if rumors spread that someone had secretly sent a servant to her, it would undoubtedly lead to unfavorable gossip.

And at this point, the reason Princess Yelizaveta was seeking out the Grand Duchess and Camilla was obvious.

“…You’ve gotten entangled in a troublesome matter.”

“It’s fine. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

I expressed my sympathy to Camilla with a tone suggesting I had nothing more to say. However, Camilla waved her hand dismissively, acting as if it were no big deal.

“It’s getting late, so let’s hurry.”

“Is there enough space for the luggage?”

“There’s plenty, so just hurry up and come.”

Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from the Cold Country

The Smirnov Imperial Family has distinctive physical traits. Mysterious silver hair and uniquely atmospheric blue eyes are their hallmarks.

While silver hair is a rare characteristic even in this place where numerous hair colors exist, one might wonder why the adjective “unique” is attached to blue eyes, which anyone could be born with.

After all, don’t both Camilla and Lucia have blue eyes?

However, the eyes that members of the Smirnov family are born with possess slightly different characteristics from others’ eyes.

The difference is subtle enough that one might only notice it when Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna and Camilla stand side by side, allowing for a careful comparison.

In contrast, Princess Yelizaveta was someone who could hardly be believed to be born of the Smirnov Imperial Family.

In other words, she was a person born with ordinariness, far from the family’s distinctive traits.

“I’ve been remiss in my duties. It’s been a while since I’ve paid my respects, Grand Duchess.”

Alexandra Petrovna gave a mysterious look to the princess who was greeting her with formal courtesy.

They say one sees as much as one knows, which often means one only sees what one knows.

Eyes are the windows to the soul. In the reddish-blue glass windows of one who has grasped mysterious principles and reached the ranks of the wise, there dwelled a maturity that others could never match.

“Liza (Лиза). Yes, I wonder how many years it’s been since I’ve seen your welcome face.”

“This unworthy one finally pays her respects to the Grand Duchess.”

“Put aside the formalities. What need is there for pretense between us? If you’ve come to pay your respects, you should be at ease.”

In a mansion in the center of the imperial capital, Alexandra Petrovna, wearing a kind smile, gestured to dispel the solemn atmosphere. It was characteristic of someone who detested anything rigid.

The woman called ‘Liza’ responded with a faint smile.

“You still dislike formalities. In the past and now. You haven’t changed at all.”

“Does it annoy you?”

“How could I dare feel that way?”

She was a woman with golden hair tied up, like a freshly picked sunflower from a garden.

Her pomegranate-red eyes created a beautiful scene together with her curly hair flowing down along her cheeks.

Though far from the Smirnov characteristics, she was an imperial family member more Smirnov than anyone else.

Yelizaveta Nikolayevna always stood somewhere on that exquisite boundary.

“I heard you returned to the Empire after completing the talks. I should have visited you earlier, but I’m late.”

Drip. The princess poured tea into a cup herself, making light conversation.

It had been a full year since the Grand Duchess, who had been in seclusion, broke her isolation.

The news that the Archmage had reappeared in the world was already a year in the past.

It was highly unnatural for the princess, who had been nowhere to be seen, to come paying respects only today. The Grand Duchess knew better than anyone that if she had truly wanted to, the princess would have visited much earlier.

Still, she was genuinely pleased to see her face, even if belatedly.

So she could cheerfully overlook her young niece’s minor oversight.

“How could I blame you? I’m well aware of how busy you are with public and private affairs.”

“I’m grateful for your understanding.”

The two engaged in brief small talk. It was perhaps a long and sufficiently leisurely time.

Though distant, family is still family.

They weren’t unfamiliar distant relatives; they had encountered each other in the palace since Yelizaveta was a little lady toddling around.

While it might have been a home of barely 10 years for Yelizaveta at that time, Alexandra had already spent over 60 years there.

How would the Grand Duchess have viewed the sight of a little one busily scurrying around in the same place where she herself had played decades ago?

That’s why the conversation between the two was warm and friendly.

So much so that the dialogue didn’t cease even until the teapot was emptied and servants brought in fresh tea.

It was only when the tea from the second pot was growing lukewarm that the casual conversation finally ended.

“By the way, what brings you to me? I doubt you’ve come merely to pay your respects. Don’t you already have many around you who can help?”

The Grand Duchess, bringing tea to her lips, suddenly broached the main topic. It was a question.

She added in a low tone:

“Of course, the number of those seeking your help must be even greater.”

It was a pointed remark.

It was an open secret that the princess’s family was deeply connected to various imperial bureaucratic circles, including the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

It was also a well-known secret that the human connections from her family provided the princess with tremendous power.

In fact, the purpose of Nicholas VI forming an alliance with them in his younger days was precisely because of their network deeply embedded in bureaucratic society.

Princess Yelizaveta, with a gentle smile on her lips, broke a half-melted sugar cube with her teaspoon.

“If I receive or give help to someone, it is always an act born of goodwill.”

“Whose goodwill have you come to receive today?”

“I’ve simply come to see the Grand Duchess. To inquire after your well-being. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Ha! Liza, I’m truly delighted to hear you say that. However…”

Alexandra Petrovna laughed heartily, as if pleased.

Then, after taking a sip of tea,

She murmured in a meaningful voice:

“It seems your business today is not with me alone.”

The Archmage spoke, and the princess replied.

Tilting her tea with finely scattered sugar dissolved in it, as if amused:

“I always feel that you speak as if you can see right through my heart. Even I get confused at times.”

“……”

“It’s simply amazing, Grand Duchess.”

*

Alexandra Petrovna’s official title is ‘Grand Duchess of Novo-Nikolayevsk.’

For convenience, everyone shortens it to Northern Grand Duchess, and she herself introduces herself with the shortened title because she finds it cumbersome. But her official title is as stated.

As the title suggests, the Grand Duchess’s original place of residence should be in the north of the Kiyen Empire.

Specifically, she should be in the fortress of ‘Novo-Nikolayevsk,’ the capital of the northern region.

Just as the U.S. President resides in the White House, the British Prime Minister at 10 Downing Street, and the French President at the Élysée Palace, the Grand Duchess should also stay in her designated location (office) as a matter of principle and custom.

But what kind of person is Alexandra Petrovna? She’s an Archmage, of whom fewer than twenty have appeared in thousands of years of human history.

Moreover, she’s a fire-wielder who could obliterate the Templar Order, hailed as the most powerful military group of the time, with a single finger.

Neither her father nor her brother, despite their temperamental personalities, had the ability to withstand their daughter’s, their sister’s, formidable magic.

(For reference, both were former emperors)

Whether the Grand Duchess left her fortress out of boredom to visit and lounge in the imperial palace, or took unlimited paid leave with no end date on a whim, there wasn’t a single brave soul who could properly discipline her.

This was a fate that even Nicholas VI, renowned as a tyrant of the ages, couldn’t escape.

Even ‘the Butcher of Petrograd’ experienced the miracle of his anger management issues naturally healing in her presence.

…For these reasons, Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna owned a separate residence within the imperial capital.

The reason was simple.

“They told her to stop barging into the imperial palace with teleportation and scaring people, and to wait at the Grand Duchess’s residence before entering the palace.”

“Ah, so that’s what it was? I thought it was just a vacation home or something.”

On the way to the Grand Duchess’s residence in Petrograd.

I was enjoying hearing about the secret history of the residence with Camilla.

“They say her personality has mellowed now, but in the old days, the Grand Duchess was quite a fiery person.”

“She’s still quite something even now, isn’t she?”

“This is her being better. She not only used teleportation in the palace as a matter of course, but also once used flight magic in the middle of the city, triggering the capital’s entire anti-air magic array.”

That must have been a story from well over half a century ago.

It was around the time when Kiyen’s air defense system, which had been completely reliant on magic, began to be used in conjunction with other military technologies that had been treated as relics of the old era.

I had learned this fact when I recently accessed the Foreign Ministry’s archives.

Camilla grinned.

“What? So the ban on flight magic in the city is also…?”

“Hmm, probably?”

“Hey! She got to enjoy all the good stuff by herself!”

Realizing that the Grand Duchess herself was the originator of various regulations and restrictions, Camilla clicked her tongue in disappointment. She meant why did she get to enjoy all the fun things by herself.

Of course, whether the Grand Duchess actually made the laws or not would need to be verified. Anyway.

Since we were bored with nothing to do, we began to unravel the secret history of the Grand Duchess’s residence in Petrograd and her past, one by one. It was essentially gossip behind her back.

“It seems the Grand Duchess worked hard but also caused a lot of trouble. According to records, she almost burned down the imperial palace.”

“You say she worked hard? That’s completely different from the professor I know.”

“Ah, well, that’s because now the north can function even without the Grand Duchess being there, thanks to the system she established.”

“Automatic hunting? She’s the ultimate tax thief!”

“Well… The royalties she receives from her papers at the Magic Tower and Ivory Tower are probably thousands of times more than the dignity maintenance fee she gets from taxes, but you’re not wrong.”

“Let’s compromise and call her a free spirit. Though she’s a bit too free, which is slightly problematic.”

We chatted, mixing in jokes, and shared laughter.

I heard the Grand Duchess has been running training sessions quite intensely lately. It seems Camilla has a lot to feel wronged about.

By the way, I don’t see those security agents who were lurking at the warp gate inspection area. They must be following us from somewhere.

I gave a slight signal to Camilla, but her response was lukewarm.

It seemed that even a magician with exceptional intuition couldn’t sense anything amiss.

Pretending to look for directions, I examined the surrounding roads and asked Camilla if she knew anything.

“About the one who sent the page to the Grand Duchess’s residence. I’m asking just in case, but were there any other unusual circumstances?”

“Such as?”

“MICE.”

MICE. An acronym for Money, Ideology, Compromise, and Ego.

It’s a term used in national intelligence studies. Strictly speaking, it’s a category used by intelligence officers as a basis for recruiting potential informants. Though it’s an academic term rarely used in actual practice.

I was indirectly asking, “Has anyone approached you and attempted to recruit you?”

And Camilla answered dismissively:

“No. There wasn’t anything like that.”

“That’s good then.”

“Why are you suddenly asking that?”

“…I wonder myself.”

I sighed deeply and let my words trail off.

The sky over Petrograd feels particularly heavy today.

“It seems like it’s going to rain in Petrograd today.”

*

The doors of the Grand Duchess’s residence open, and the vehicle enters the garden.

A woman sitting by the window brushes back her hair, disturbed by the wind, and smiles gracefully.

“It seems we have visitors.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Who is it?”

The maid looked out the window, then returned to the woman’s side and bent one knee.

“Camilla Rowell and Frederick Nostrum, High Priestess.”

“I see…”

Zeinab Eskander maintained silence for a moment with her chin raised, wearing a mysterious smile.

And after a long silence,

A calm voice resonated through the room.

“They are the guests you’ve been waiting for.”

Facing the princess sitting opposite her, the High Priestess displayed an enigmatic smile.

“Isn’t that right, Yelizaveta?”