Ch.633Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from the Cold Country

Confusion preceded surprise.

A princess who should be with her family according to long tradition, sitting alone in the garden. And without even the guards who normally protect the royal family 24 hours a day.

Both Camilla and I felt puzzled, but we were still facing a member of the royal family. We belatedly straightened our awkward postures and showed proper respect.

“I apologize. We didn’t know you would be here, Your Highness.”

“……”

It seemed we weren’t the only ones feeling embarrassed.

The person who unexpectedly encountered uninvited guests had her eyes wide open in surprise. Unlike her usual dignified and elegant demeanor, she was sitting on the grass with her hands clasped together, hunched over. She looked as if she had just encountered a burglar.

Nevertheless.

Perhaps finding it fascinating how much she resembled the Grand Duke, Camilla merely glanced sideways at the woman’s delicate features with curiosity.

“Um…”

Amid the subtle silence and mutual observation.

The princess’s tightly closed lips began to move with a slight tremor.

“I think you’ve… confused me with someone else.”

“Pardon?”

At the mention of a mistake, I raised my head and exchanged glances with Camilla, whose eyes had grown round.

Almost immediately, the woman stroked her hands gathered at her chest and replied.

“I’m Angelica. Not Anastasia, the Princess.”

Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from the Cold Country

The woman we encountered in the garden introduced herself this way.

“I’m Angelica, the eldest daughter of the Zubov family. Pleased to meet you.”

With mysterious silver hair and blue eyes like finely ground pearls in the sea, the woman named Angelica greeted us cautiously with a face strikingly similar to Princess Anastasia’s.

As she curtsied by pulling up the hem of her dress, I cleared my throat and responded.

“Ahem. I’ve been quite rude. In my confusion, I mistook you for someone I know.”

“I completely understand.”

Even upon second glance, she possessed features remarkably similar to the princess.

However, examining her face carefully, there were noticeable differences. Now that I thought about it, her voice was slightly different from the princess’s voice I remembered.

She resembled the princess so closely she could almost be her doppelgänger, but a mistake was still a mistake.

I apologized first, maintaining proper etiquette.

Then, pondering her words, I spoke with a questioning expression.

“By the way, when you say the Zubov family, could it be…?”

To my tentative question, the woman nodded, confirming it was indeed the place I was thinking of.

“Yes. Count Arkady Zubov is my father.”

“Ah, I see.”

I nodded significantly and let out a sigh that was almost a lament.

“So you’re the only daughter of the Eastern Governor-General.”

*

The Zubov family is a noble house known to everyone in the Kien Empire.

While the family itself has a long aristocratic lineage, the main reason for their prominence is that the current head, ‘Count Arkady Sergeyevich Zubov,’ succeeded his father as the Governor-General of the Kien colonial territory.

A massive trade route connected by maritime commerce.

The master of the ocean who protects the numerous ships and vessels that cross the ocean to enrich the empire, and supports the imperial navy in checking maritime powers from behind the continent.

This was the image representing Count Arkady Zubov.

And his father, the former Count Sergei Zubov, who had been the previous Governor-General.

“What kind of family is it?”

“She’s the only daughter of the colonial Governor-General. Think of him as the Kien version of the British Governor of Hong Kong, the Dutch Governor of the East Indies, or the French Governor of Indochina.”

When I answered in a hushed voice, Camilla’s expression took on a rather curious light.

Was she wondering what a colonial governor meant? Or why the only child of such a family was sitting alone on the grass?

Probably both.

I naturally lowered my volume and added more details to my explanation.

“For reference, by bloodline, she’s a distant relative of Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna. One of the Zubov family’s ancestors married into the imperial family. Though they’re essentially unrelated, the empire considers them a branch of the imperial family.”

Of course, it wasn’t just the blood connection that earned them branch family status.

Former Count Sergei Zubov was one of the vassals recorded in Kien’s history books.

In the past, when Nicholas VI was still young and inexperienced, he lost his throne to a coup by his regent relative and had to flee. Like the Count Stolypin’s family, the Zubov family was among those who protected the prince.

Though known as a ruthless iron emperor, Nicholas VI never forgot the kindness and service the count families showed him.

That’s why Stolypin, Nicholas VI’s close friend, could maintain his position as second only to the emperor despite endless purges.

And Sergei, who had protected Nicholas VI’s rightful claim, enjoyed a comfortable life in both central politics and foreign colonies before passing the governor position to his son.

(Of course, the reason both Prime Minister Stolypin and former Governor Sergei could enjoy the emperor’s favor until the end was because they were careful not to offend Nicholas VI. Those who foolishly became drunk with power were purged long ago, regardless of their vassal status)

In other words, the Zubov family was traditionally a vassal loyal to Nicholas VI.

In the broader context, they were nobles who implicitly supported Crown Prince Valery’s succession and were highly likely to side with the prince in the future.

After all, they had reaped substantial benefits for helping Nicholas VI.

If Valery were to be ousted in a coup, they wouldn’t be able to continue enjoying those benefits.

Moreover, it wouldn’t look good for a “vassal family that prevented the regent’s coup” to reverse course and “stage a coup to remove the crown prince.” That would be clear hypocrisy.

They would be severely criticized for pretending to be loyal and righteous while secretly plotting treacherous rebellion.

The reason I knew the Zubov family’s political position was simple.

The current count, Angelica’s father ‘Governor-General Arkady Zubov,’ was stationed in the Kien eastern colony (specifically, the Kien naval expeditionary fleet rotating there), which was a strategic point irritating the nerves of the Abbas-Fatalia Eastern Combined Fleet.

It was a neighborhood where magic shorts frequently occurred on anti-air cruiser masts (mainly caused by Kien naval mages’ electronic warfare-like tactics), and where surface ships and submarines regularly violated territorial waters. The military intelligence bureau couldn’t help but pay attention to the governor commanding the fleet there.

I had visited there several times myself when I was working as an unofficial agent for Kien.

Come to think of it, I’m not entirely unconnected to the Zubov family.

“…Hmm.”

I extended my hand to the woman sitting on the grass.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was appropriate to take it, but eventually pulled up her dress and stood up.

“Thank you.”

“Are you hurt anywhere? Please don’t hesitate to tell me if your dress is stained with grass.”

I say this because we happen to have an excellent British washing machine here.

Of course, its main job is probably laundering images rather than clothes.

“I’m fine. As you can see, my dress is green…”

Angelica declined, pointing to her dark green dress.

Does green fabric resist grass stains better? I don’t know much about fabrics, but if she says she’s fine, then she must be.

“Thank you for helping me up.”

“Of course. Angelica, was it? Is the Governor-General also attending the ball today?”

If Arkady were here, he would likely meet the Crown Prince.

However, according to my information, the governor’s name wasn’t on today’s guest list, and the embassy hadn’t received any intelligence about him leaving the colony.

But there’s always a possibility.

The governor might have returned to the empire urgently and the information was delayed in reaching the embassy, or he might be secretly contacting the Crown Prince through a servant or family member to avoid surveillance.

It was a question asked with faint hope and some skepticism.

In response, Angelica fingered her braided silver hair and carefully shook her head.

“No. Count Zubov didn’t come.”

She said only the countess and herself were attending. I subtly asked if there were other attendees from the family or anyone close to the governor, but the answer was the same.

Well. Disappointing but expected.

If the governor was truly determined, he might have considered sending a secret message to the Crown Prince through his daughter or wife.

But if Arkady had taken this approach, the Abbas government would have noticed with 100% certainty, and I would have received information about the governor plotting something well before arriving at the ball.

No such signs were detected, which meant the governor had taken no action. That was the background for why I had to accept the situation, albeit with some disappointment.

However,

While accepting Angelica’s answer, I couldn’t help but feel slightly puzzled.

“By the way, is something wrong with the Governor-General?”

“What? Why suddenly…”

“You just referred to them as ‘Count Zubov’ and ‘the countess.'”

As soon as I finished speaking, Camilla, standing beside me, added her own comment, as if she also found it strange.

“Is there any need to use formal titles for your father and mother outside the reception hall?”

“…Ah.”

Like someone belatedly realizing something, Angelica let out a delayed sigh.

She stroked her fingertips nervously and carefully began to explain.

“It’s a strange way of speaking, isn’t it? I must have been unconsciously tense in front of foreigners. Thinking about it now, I seem to have been… too formal. I unintentionally made you misunderstand.”

“How did you know we were from abroad?”

Camilla asked, tilting her head. Angelica hesitated, glancing at me briefly, and explained.

“I can hear the Abbas accent in the gentleman’s pronunciation. It’s faint, but definitely there. And no matter how I look at it… your uniform doesn’t seem to be imperial.”

The Kien and Abbas military uniforms certainly differ significantly in color.

“It seems we’ve had many misunderstandings from our first meeting. Including mistaking you for Princess Anastasia. But you two really do look alike.”

“Do we?”

“Do people often tell you that?”

Camilla naturally joined the conversation with a question. I waited for Angelica’s answer with my arm linked with Camilla’s.

However, perhaps not entirely pleased with being compared to the princess, Angelica’s expression began to change subtly.

“Not often… I used to hear it from people around me in the past. But not anymore.”

“I see.”

I understand.

I apologized for startling her earlier and offered to escort her to the ballroom. Although Angelica declined the offer, she didn’t object to Camilla accompanying her.

They were probably around the same age. The two made good companions, even if only briefly.

I wasn’t sure exactly how old the governor’s only daughter was this year, but considering her remarkable resemblance to Princess Anastasia, she was probably around the same age.

After seeing Angelica off.

Returning to the garden, Camilla tapped my shoulder and pointed toward the interior.

“Let’s go. The reception seems about to begin.”

We slowly made our way through the grass and gravel path toward the ballroom.

As we were passing through a dimly lit path, while I was putting on the gloves I had temporarily removed.

“What did you think? About that Angelica woman we just met.”

“She was fascinating. She looks so much like Princess Anastasia.”

“Is that all you thought?”

Camilla asked, tilting her head slightly, and I shrugged and replied as if it were nothing.

“There were some suspicious aspects to her behavior. But those were natural reactions when someone is nervous or flustered.”

We must have startled her quite a bit.

“So from now on, at least in front of others, stop playing around…”

“……”

“What’s wrong, Camilla?”

“…Hmm.”

Camilla suddenly stopped walking and pursed her lips with a mysterious expression, like someone deep in thought.

“Anastasia and Angelica. They’re definitely different people, there’s no doubt about that… but something feels strange.”

With a face that seemed both meaningful and puzzling.

Her blue eyes sparkling, Camilla murmured as if uncertain.

“Why do they look exactly the same to my eyes?”

*

In the corridor leading to Leyevsky Hall.

At the end of the solemn atmosphere with guards standing in formation, there was a royal member leaning askew against the wall.

“You’re late.”

As she pushed herself off the wall, a curt reprimand followed.

Alexandra Petrovna scolded the late-arriving royal with a short, brusque voice, to which the princess smiled apologetically and curtsied.

“I’m sorry, Grand Aunt. My errand took longer than expected.”

Anastasia straightened her slightly bowed back and lowered the hem of her dress.

The elegant cream-colored dress fluttered.

Leading the cream-colored dress that almost brushed the marble floor, Princess Anastasia took her place beside her siblings who had been waiting for her.

“Hmm.”

Alexandra Petrovna’s calm gaze surveyed the gathered royals. After a moment, she gave a signal with a rather satisfied smile.

The Grand Duchess’s gesture fell.

As the Crown Prince, who had completed his preparations, nodded. The palace attendant announced to the bustling hall with a solemn voice.

That the rightful masters of the empire had arrived.