Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter: Volume 7 E-Book

Riku Nanano

• Herausgeber: J-Novel Club
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 297

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Outlooks are bleak in the Duchy of Howard. The imperial army looming on its northern border dwarfs the duke’s forces, and he can’t hope for reinforcements from a capital in the hands of hard-line aristocratic rebels. Lady Stella Howard, her younger sister Tina, and Tina’s maid Ellie are beside themselves with worry over the fate of their missing tutor Allen—last seen outnumbered and surrounded in the heart of enemy territory—but rescue plans will have to wait. The girls throw themselves into the war effort, anxious to hasten the end of the conflict in any way they can. Yet even their magical talents can only do so much, especially when sinister hooded figures join the enemy ranks.

While Allen’s friends and family battle for their lives, the young sorcerer has his own trials to contend with. Captured, beaten, and flung into a mysterious ruin, he finds himself forced into a confrontation with startling truths—and an adversary who can more than match his skill.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Characters

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Epilogue

Afterword

Color Illustrations

About J-Novel Club

Copyright

Landmarks

Table of Contents

Color Illustrations

Prologue

“So, we’re winning?” I asked.

“We are indeed, Grant.”

The tenth day since we had launched the Great Cause—our rebellion against the Royal House of Wainwright—found me, Duke Grant Algren, on the wooded outskirts of the eastern capital, closeted in a secret room of my house’s villa. With me were Greck, the eldest of my younger brothers, and his right-hand man, Earl Raymond Despenser. They had made a temporary return by wyvern to report on the state of the war. My next-youngest brother Gregory was also in attendance, concealing his meager physique under a gray robe.

“My army has successfully occupied the royal capital and the central region around it,” Greck declared, radiating confidence as he flourished his pointer at the map of the kingdom on the table. “You won’t be shocked to hear that we were far from alone in viewing the royal family’s recent policies as a threat to the existing social order! I’ve also taken custody of Gerard Wainwright, who had been transported to the royal capital. He can’t even speak anymore, but he’ll make a serviceable puppet king. And”—his pointer struck the north and south—“I bring good news concerning the Howards and Leinsters too. As it seems, a few days ago, both houses opened hostilities on their borders—with the Yustinian Empire and the League of Principalities, respectively. Initial reports have it that the Leinsters lost their first engagement and are on the defensive, while the Howards are in the process of withdrawing their troops and subjects from Galois! Make haste, Grant! The time is ripe for your advance on the royal capital!”

“Well spoken!” I saw myself sitting on the throne. The puppet Gerard would occupy it in reality, but for all intents and purposes, I would be king.

“Wait a moment, Grant, Greck,” Gregory interjected. I turned to find him bending over the map.

“What is it?” Greck asked, annoyed at having his proposal interrupted. “Do you have something to add?”

“Yes, three things.” A pale, spindly finger touched the west of the kingdom. “First, Gerard is the only royal we’ve managed to capture. And in the west, the Lebuferas, their vassals, and the Order of Royal Knights remain a force to be reckoned with.”

Greck clicked his tongue disagreeably. He had hoped to seize the royal family along with their capital, but fierce resistance from the knights of the guard and the royals’ personal escorts had thwarted that plan.

“I’m well aware of that!” he snapped. “But I’m certain we wounded the king, and the western forces can’t leave their posts! The Ducal House of Lebufera and the Order of Royal Knights haven’t moved in two hundred years! Not since the War of the Dark Lord!”

“Precisely. They can’t risk weakening the defenses...” Gregory responded dispassionately as his finger traversed the map again, coming to a halt on the kingdom’s western border—Blood River, a battlefield that the human race could never forget. Only memories of bitter defeat lingered there, where our dreams of reclaiming the holy land and striking down the Dark Lord had been dashed. “Lest the demons resume their eastward march.”

“Then what are you—”

“But that logic would only apply if we had the king and his family in our hands,” Gregory continued, breezing past Greck’s interruption. “According to my information, they’ve withdrawn to the western capital. The Lebuferas won’t move, but I fear the Order of Royal Knights very well might.”

“But not all of them,” Greck snarled and pounded his fist on the map. “We can handle a detachment!”

Our failure to capture the royal family had been a miscalculation. I motioned for Gregory to continue. My second-youngest brother was rising in my estimation, despite his frailty and the vulgar blood in his veins, due to his useful insights into the situation here in the eastern capital. In the hands of a skilled player, every piece had its uses.

“Second, the Howards and Leinsters.”

“Both are in retreat,” Greck countered. “My intelligence is up to date and corroborated by multiple wyvern and griffin messages. Even the Knights of the Holy Spirit confirm that both houses have opened hostilities!”

We had been tipped off that our comrades in the Yustinian Empire and the League of Principalities had turned both powers toward expansionism but planned to halt their armies after reclaiming lost territory. I considered deception on that front highly improbable.

“I don’t doubt that they’ve gone to war,” Gregory responded, sounding unsure of himself. “But don’t you think word has reached the royal capital sooner than it should?”

“What are you getting at?” I asked, looking down at the map. Numerous violet pieces—our allies—covered the east and center of the kingdom. The only other pieces near the royal capital represented Marquesses Crom and Gardner, who had yet to show their colors. Azure, scarlet, and emerald pieces marked our enemies in the north, south, and west. Beyond our borders, clear markers represented the northern Yustinian Empire and the southern principalities of Atlas and Bazel. And thanks to the intercession of the Knights of the Holy Spirit, we could count both foreign powers among our allies. From this bird’s-eye view, our position seemed unassailable.

“Communications between the ducal houses are severed,” murmured Gregory. “So I merely wonder how the royal capital—and only the royal capital—can learn of events so swiftly.”

“Oh, is that all?” Greck laughed dismissively. “The empire and the league must have outnumbered them three to one at the least, and you can’t argue with numbers! Isn’t that right, Raymond?”

“It is,” Raymond answered, breaking his silence. “Naturally, we’ve gathered intelligence from multiple sources, and everything points to the facts that the Howards have abandoned Galois and the Leinsters suffered an initial defeat.”

Gregory inclined his head to Greck. “I beg your pardon,” he said, conceding the point without further argument. Greck let out a triumphant snort.

I agreed that events were moving too quickly, but so long as the better part of our foes were pinned down in the north, south, and west, we had nothing to fear.

“And your third point, Gregory?” I prompted.

“Of course.” Gregory hesitated for a moment. Then, “The eastern capital and its Great Tree are not yet fully under our control.”

Greck stared at me in disbelief. “What does he mean by that, Grant? You only had a handful of royal guards and those conceited animals squatting in our city to contend with. How could they hold out for ten whole days?!”

I recalled my clash with the Leinsters’ eldest son, an animal, and a mock beast on the first day of the Great Cause. I folded my arms and kept my vexation in check as I explained the situation. “I hate to praise the enemy, but Richard Leinster and his knights are a formidable force. We’ve driven them back halfway across the Great Bridge—almost to the tree itself—but they stubbornly continue to resist.”

“We promised the Knights of the Holy Spirit partial control of the Great Tree,” Greck responded, lowering his voice. “Unless we come up with a solution soon, this could strain our relationship with the church once the war is over.”

The beastfolk had long unjustly claimed possession of the eastern capital’s Great Tree and used it to extract massive concessions. That we would reclaim it for humanity went without saying, but we also owed it to the Knights of the Holy Spirit, who had entered the fray on our behalf. It wouldn’t do to let this conflict drag on.

“Greck,” I said, looking my brother in the eye, “recall the Violet Order. With their aid, we shall crush the royal guard and fulfill our obligation to the church. I trust you won’t object, since you have the royal capital in hand.”

“Their leader, Haag Harclay, is a dangerous man,” Greck hesitantly responded.

“Old Harclay built and trained the order himself,” added Raymond. “Allowing them to join forces with Haig Hayden’s knights and Zaur Zani’s troops might be inadvisable. If they turned traitor—”

“Haag, Hayden, and Zaur are relics. They won’t turn their backs on the House of Algren now that I’ve inherited its symbol, Deep Violet,” I confidently declared, gazing at the enchanted halberd propped on the chair beside me.

I’ve already succeeded my father. I am Duke Algren!

Before embarking upon the Great Cause, I had made one last report to my father—the pitiful fool who had championed the Royal House of Wainwright and its moves to strip the aristocracy of our established privileges in the name of “meritocracy.” From the sickbed where my poison had put him, Guido Algren had said forlornly, “Stop this nonsense, Grant. If you go ahead with this, our house will be forever known as shameless ingrates. Remember our forebears’ blunder at Blood River.”

He truly was a fool. How could he allow the events of two hundred years ago to bind him still? We owed the beastfolk nothing, and we were certainly under no obligation to honor the Old Pledge! As far as I’d read, our ancestors had merely suffered trifling losses in the initial engagement!

I doubt you’re still conscious, but I hope you’re watching as I, Grant Algren, rule this kingdom!

“Except for the futile resistance at the Great Tree, everything is proceeding more or less as planned,” I announced. “We’ll start by plucking that little thorn from our side, then pick off the remaining pockets of resistance one by one.”

“Yes, sir!” Greck and Raymond responded.

“Grant,” Gregory cut in timorously, “j-just two more details, if you don’t mind.”

“Out with them,” I said, losing patience.

“What about Gil?”

“Don’t kill him unless he turns on us. Retrieve the dagger imbued with vestiges of Radiant Shield and keep him where he can do no harm.”

My detestable youngest brother, Gil Algren, had been our father’s favorite. Whispers had even hailed him as the most likely of us to inherit the dukedom. He hadn’t joined the Great Cause at first, so, on the advice of my spy Konoha, I had placed him under house arrest. Bringing Gil into our designs would have risked alerting the Leinsters in any case—the Brain of the Lady of the Sword had been his university upperclassman, and true to his nickname, that mock beast was close to Lydia Leinster herself. Pitting Gil against his troublesome schoolmate had been Gregory’s idea.

“Gil seems awfully taken with that fellow,” he had said. “Wouldn’t it make for an amusing diversion?”

A shocking suggestion, even coming from my own flesh and blood. I had no idea how Gregory had put the matter to Gil, but the result was that our youngest brother had struck down the mock beast. He was too deeply implicated to turn against us now.

“I understand,” Gregory said. “As for the other matter... Lord Despenser.”

“How may I be of service?” Raymond answered, warily eyeing Gregory.

“Have there been any difficulties with supplies?”

“None worth mentioning. Duke Grant’s idea to provision our troops by rail is working splendidly!”

“Is that so?”

“Gregory,” Greck cut in, sternly reproving, “do you mean to suggest that our supply lines are not as they should be?”

“N-No, nothing of the kind. Forgive me; I was merely a bit nervous. Grant, I’ve nothing more to— Well, actually, there is one little thing.”

“Gregory...”

“I will take custody of that mock beast,” he said hurriedly, waving his hands. “I haven’t informed Hayden or Zaur.”

“That truly is a little thing,” I replied dismissively. I might have punished the mock beast personally, but this would do.

“Do as you please,” Greck added at almost the same moment and with equal disdain.

“What use do you have for the likes of him?” I asked, noting the look of undisguised relief on Gregory’s face.

He chuckled. “You have to ask?” A chill ran over my skin, but I couldn’t fathom why. Gregory still wore his usual smile. “Animals are only good for one thing—a little experiment.”

✽

Once the secret council was over, I entered the hidden room and found Master Gregory alone, moving pieces on the map with his right hand and toying roughly with an emblem of the Holy Spirit in his left.

“My lord,” I called softly.

“Ito,” he responded, not minding his tone now that we were alone in the room. “Don’t use that raspy voice. And drop your disguise—it irks me.”

“I beg your pardon.” The wrinkles vanished from my face, neck, and hands, and I grew even shorter as I resumed my true voice and appearance. Pushing back my gray hood, I moved to my lord’s side, bothered by my deep-black and gray bangs.

“Well?” he asked, without looking up from the map.

“I have them here,” I replied, handing over the papers I’d acquired. They revealed the state of rebel supplies in the royal capital.

My lord snatched them roughly and checked the spots I had bookmarked. Then he sank into the chair behind him. “I thought as much,” he spat, toying with a clear game piece. “How long will that lot in the royal capital hold out?”

“Assuming nothing changes...perhaps a month.”

The royal capital produced nothing edible. The city had its own water supply, but it needed to import provisions and all other necessities from elsewhere. Grant’s plan to maintain supply lines by railway was supposed to solve that issue. However...

“It was always just an armchair theory,” my lord remarked, “but I still can’t believe they bungled every part of it this badly! The trains don’t run on time, they aren’t unloaded efficiently, and the stockpiles of provisions end up rotting at stations here and in the royal capital because no one arranged to distribute them. No wonder that clod Greck can’t bring himself to report this mess.”

“Most of the great merchants are refusing to cooperate,” I supplied. “Apparently, the head of the Toretto family is covertly informing his colleagues that the rebellion is doomed to fail. Scouting parties also frequently go missing on the outskirts of the royal capital, while rails and signals suffer sabotage. The situation worsens by the day.”

“Payback for taking Momiji Toretto prisoner, I suppose. And the saboteurs must be in the employ of other ducal houses. But Grant’s never given a thought to maintaining rail infrastructure. That leaves him to feed more than a hundred thousand soldiers and the population of the royal capital using only what smaller firms can provide—which is impossible.” My lord flung the documents onto the table. As their pages turned, the name of one merchant caught my eye: Ernest Fosse, recommended by Earl Rupert. Then he crossed his legs in irritation, fidgeting with both the glass game piece and the church insignia. “It looks like the oafs will lose their war even sooner than anticipated. What have you learned about the Howards and Leinsters?”

“Both houses are definitely facing external enemies. As for the Lebuferas—”

“The west won’t budge. Don’t waste my time with useless trivia.”

“I beg your pardon.” I bobbed my head in sincere apology. As he said, the Ducal House of Lebufera and their western vassals would never take up arms against a mere rebellion.

“Lev tossed the Brain of the Lady of the Sword into the Fire Fiend’s keyhole. But will it open, I wonder,” my lord mused. “Once the Violet Order returns, we can take the Great Tree. Animals that roll over for wealth and status are wonderfully easy to manage. The church has the royal capital’s Great Tree and the royal archive, and if they got what they came for, there’s no point in staying here. Gil will make an amusing specimen. Grant can have Deep Violet; that toy suits a dolt like him. And then there’s that man Lev retrieved to tinker with—I must test him in combat. Now, if I can only get my hands on the Fire Fiend’s papers, I could become the greatest sorcerer alive. When Lev gets back, I must...”

Once Master Gregory worked himself into this state, he needed some time to find his way back.

Lev was away in the northeast of the kingdom, visiting a tiny island in the Four Heroes Sea, the continent’s largest saline lake. My lord had met the self-proclaimed “apostle” several years ago on a visit to the pontiff’s domain. And although the vain, shifty man presented himself as our ally, who could say what he got up to behind our backs. Yet my lord had said of him, “The Church of the Holy Spirit and their revolting Saint are all pieces on my game board! But not Lev—he’s a kindred spirit.”

You’re clever, my darling little Master Gregory. You can see through most things. But did you know, my lord? Although the west would never move against a mere rebellion...

“The Lebuferas, their vassals, and the demonfolk of my cherished homeland haven’t forgotten Shooting Star or their Old Pledge with him,” I whispered, just on the edge of hearing.

My lord did not respond. He remained lost in thought, just like when he’d been a little boy. And I never tired of watching him.

Chapter 1

“It’s not true! You expect me to believe that my tutor—that Allen stayed behind to face certain death and never made it back to the Great Tree?! I refuse to accept it!”

The scream of my younger sister, Tina Howard, filled our father’s office on the outskirts of the northern capital. Her little body shook, and both her hair—platinum faintly tinged with azure—and the snow-white ribbon tied behind her head rose with the mana she unconsciously radiated.

“Big Sis Stella,” the girl in a maid uniform to my left murmured, with tears in her eyes, and hugged my arm. Ellie Walker was Tina’s personal attendant and practically a second sister to me.

“It’s all right, Ellie,” I said. “Tina, calm down. Let’s hear her out first.”

Ellie fell silent. After a few moments, Tina murmured, “All right.”

I’d taken a calm tone for their benefit, but if they hadn’t been here, I might well have been wailing too. A storm raged in my heart.

Mr. Allen. Mr. Allen! Mr. Allen!

“Continue your report,” urged a powerfully built, platinum-haired man seated in a chair—Tina’s and my father, Duke Walter Howard.

“Yes, sir!” responded Celerian Ceynoth, the lady knight of the royal guard who had come bearing news of the war in the eastern capital. Despite her many wounds, she remained on one knee, head lowered, and closed her eyes as she continued her report. “We launched a desperate search for Mr. Allen as soon as we returned from New Town, but we failed to locate him. Then, one of my fellow knights and I obtained Skyhawk Company griffins and escaped the city. I went north, and he, south. I sincerely apologize for my late arrival; I was forced to make a number of detours on the way.”

Ten days had already passed since the outbreak of a conservative noble rebellion spearheaded by the eastern Ducal House of Algren. We had spent the intervening time slowly gathering intelligence, including a few bits of undeniably good news, such as a report that His Majesty and the rest of the royal family were alive and well in the western capital. The news that my friend Felicia Fosse, who had been working at Allen & Co. in the royal capital when the insurrection began, was safe in the south had also come as a relief. But the situation in the royal and eastern capitals remained a mystery. According to the man nearing old age who waited behind my father—our spymaster and head butler Graham Walker—the rebel army in the royal capital was making no moves, but his analysis had revealed nothing else.

“I knew he would push himself too far,” groaned the bespectacled, scholarly gentleman who stood beside my father, pressing his left hand to his forehead. The professor was both one of my father’s oldest friends and one of the kingdom’s finest sorcerers. “Allen is a fool! An absolute dunderhead!”

I almost protested, but one look at the professor convinced me to hold my tongue. His face was a mask of regret, and his anger was at himself.

“I know he could have escaped alone if he’d had the mind to, but true to his name, he chose to follow in Shooting Star’s footsteps!” the professor continued. “Celerian, how long can Richard hold out?”

Shooting Star was a legend of the wolf clan. When human and demonkind had clashed in the War of the Dark Lord, he had led a brigade mostly of beastfolk. And Mr. Allen was his namesake, as Caren—Mr. Allen’s younger sister and my best friend—had once happily told me.

“The vice commander’s words were ‘We’re royal guards. Duke Howard and the professor will know what that means,’” Celerian replied.

“He’ll fight to the bitter end then,” the professor said. “I’d expect no less of Liam’s son.”

“I admire his resolve,” my father added. “But his situation must have been too dire to give a definite answer.”

Both men groaned.

I touched the sea-green griffin feather secreted in my left breast pocket—a gift from Mr. Allen. He and Caren were in my thoughts.

“And what of the empire’s southern army?” my father asked, shifting his gaze to Graham.

“They should be ready to march soon. I estimate their number at two hundred thousand.”

“T-Two hundred thousand?” Tina repeated, clinging to my right arm and trembling nervously. Her forelock hung limp.

“Th-That’s too many,” Ellie chimed in, stunned.

“The Yustinian Empire?” Celerian murmured in shock, the blood draining from her face.

I struggled to keep my inner turmoil from showing.

No, Stella. Tina and Ellie will worry if you panic too. You can cry when you’re alone.

“The situation has changed,” my father said, turning to the professor. “We need to crush them sooner than we planned.”

“We’ll make short work of them,” the professor agreed. “The imperial troops are ill-supplied and poorly disciplined. How is the civilian evacuation going?”

“I’ve already informed the under-duke of Galois. We’ll house most of the women, children, and elders on the outskirts of the northern capital. Shelley will oversee the move.”

Shelley Walker was our head maid. She apparently had a military background, although I’d had no inkling of that until a few days earlier.

“Ha!” The professor slapped his knee. “No one in the kingdom handles logistics like ‘the Mastermind’! I say we leave our rear echelon in her capable hands. Graham, what have you been up to?”

“For a start, I’ve been spreading rumors along the border that the Howards are intimidated by the size of the imperial army,” Graham replied.

“An excellent plan,” my father said slowly.

“Let them feel superior until the very last moment,” added the professor.

All three men nodded. The looks on their faces were positively chilling.

Then, hesitantly, Celerian spoke up. “Mr. Allen entrusted me with an object to be given to Her Highness, Lady Tina Howard.”

“Mr. Allen sent me something?” Tina repeated, wiping her eyes.

Celerian produced a clean, folded white handkerchief from an inner pocket and presented it to Tina. Her hand was shaking.

Tina took the handkerchief in both hands and unfolded it. “But why?” she asked, staring dazedly at the knight.

“Th-That’s the one you tied to Mr. Allen’s staff,” Ellie added, equally taken aback.

The parcel contained an azure ribbon.

“Mr. Allen untied the ribbons from his staff and left them with us when he stayed behind to guard our retreat,” Celerian explained, fighting back tears.

For a moment, Tina said nothing. Then fresh tears welled from her eyes, dripping onto the ribbon as she murmured, “He did?” Icy flowers began to whirl through the air.

Ellie and I threw our arms around her.

“Lady Tina...”

“Tina, calm down.”

“Why? Why?! Why wouldn’t he... Why wouldn’t Allen take me with him to the very end?!” Tina shouted, burying her face in my chest. For an instant, the azure ribbon glowed. As it did, the mark of the great spell Frigid Crane flashed on the back of her right hand, suppressing and dispelling her ice.

Could Mr. Allen have imbued it with magic to hold the great spell in check?

I exchanged a look and a nod with Ellie.

“Mr. Allen also left a message,” Celerian continued, her voice trembling. “‘Because Tina is certain to cry,’ he said.”

Tina looked at Celerian, her crumpled face silently urging the knight to continue.

Celerian straightened and recited, “‘Don’t rush. Keep calm and be careful. As long as you stick to that, I have faith you’ll be a match for anyone—even Lydia.’”

“I don’t believe it,” Tina sobbed. “Sir, how could you?”

Ellie and I murmured her name, and the three of us shared another hug.

“Well done, Ceynoth,” my father said. “Leave us, and spend your time here recuperating.”

With a slightly delayed “Yes, sir!” the lady knight withdrew from the room, looking deeply relieved.

While I stroked my weeping sister’s back, I looked down at the azure ribbon and then at the professor. He nodded slightly. I had been right about the pacifying spell formula.

“Stella, Ellie, I’m fine now,” Tina murmured, drying her eyes and stepping away from us. Then she tied the azure ribbon around her right wrist and resolutely declared, “Father, I have a request! Please allow me to help at headquarters!” More flowers of ice filled the air, echoing her emotions, but there was nothing wild about these. They seemed almost sacred.

“Tina,” our father responded, “this is war we’re talking about.”

“I won’t go into battle. I can cast Blizzard Wolf, but I’m not ready for that yet. Mr. Allen wouldn’t approve.”

The supreme spell Blizzard Wolf was a powerful symbol of the Ducal House of Howard’s military might, alongside our secret art, the Azure Fists.

“And what do you hope to do at headquarters?” the professor interjected. He had already suggested placing Tina under Shelley’s command on a previous occasion.

“Forecast weather in the theater of war!” Tina replied. “And gather cars to move troops and supplies! I’ve already studied both during my agricultural research!”

“You covered all that?” I asked, bringing a hand to my mouth in surprise. Meanwhile, my father grunted, while the professor let out an impressed “Oho.”

“E-Excuse me!” Ellie raised her hand, looking determined. Then she bowed deeply and said, “I w-want to serve under the head maid too! Please let me!”

Graham’s eyes widened, then a smile spread across his face as he murmured, “Ellie taking the initiative? I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Tina and Ellie stood up straight, waiting for my father’s verdict. After an extended pause, Duke Walter Howard gravely pronounced, “I approve your assignment to headquarters. Stella, you are to join them in—”

“I’ll fight on the front line in uniform,” I said before he could finish, looking him in the eye.

I doubt Mr. Allen would approve, but I know I’ll do more good there than in the rear echelon!

My father was the first to look away. “No.”

“Father! Why?!”

But he ignored my protest and addressed the gathering. “Professor, you’ll oversee the front with me. Graham, give the imperials sweet dreams. I leave the details to you. Tina, Ellie, make yourselves useful at headquarters.” He paused, then, “Stella, comfort the residents of southern Galois. This is a formal order from your duke.”

✽

I stood on the bank of the majestic Lignier River, the boundary between the Duchy of Howard and Galois—and once our border with the Yustinian Empire. I glimpsed the Azure Dragon Mountains in the hazy distance, recalling that my father had once brought me here as a child.

“Never forget, Stella,” he had said. “When the empire invaded a century ago, the Ducal House of Howard boldly gave them battle. And at Rostlay in southern Galois, our ancestors claimed the final victory.”

I looked up at the sky. “This rain doesn’t let up...” I muttered, adjusting my hood against the unseasonably cold summer downpour, which obscured my view of Twin Heavens Bridge—the only major bridge across the Lignier since before the War of the Dark Lord. Puddles formed in the road where the past few days’ heavy traffic had damaged the paving stones. I needed to report these conditions to our headquarters in the northern capital and—

Someone raised an umbrella over my head. I turned to see a tall, blond, monocled young man hovering behind me. Roland Walker, my personal butler for the duration of summer break, was shielding me from the rain.

“Lady Stella, please wait in the carriage,” he said. “All the residents may already have evacuated.”

This was the third day since that awful report from the eastern capital. Tina and Ellie were at headquarters, which had been set up in my house’s great council hall. My father and the professor were with our army in northern Galois, squaring off against the imperial forces. Graham’s movements were enigmatic, but he seemed to be actively engaged in espionage. I, on the other hand...

“I’m fine, thank you,” I responded. “Let’s wait just a little longer. There might be stragglers, since the railroad only reaches to Seesehr, at the very southern edge of Galois, and the army is using it now.”

“Very well, my lady.” Roland withdrew with evident reluctance and began adjusting his monocle with his free left hand. I wondered if I had angered him. Still, having someone else hold my umbrella for me was just—

I felt a tightness in my chest as I remembered the day I’d shared an umbrella with Mr. Allen in the royal capital. I’d put on a bold front for Tina and Ellie...but I was far weaker than either of them. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to drop everything and race to the eastern capital this instant! To rush to the aid of Mr. Allen, the magician who had saved me! And yet...I couldn’t do it. A word from my father had barred me from even dressing for war, much less going out to fight. Under my raincoat, I still wore my Royal Academy uniform.

“Maybe all I’m good for is apologizing to the people while I hand out hot meals and rain gear or cast healing spells on the injured,” I grumbled, hanging my head in regret.

“My lady—”

“Don’t you believe it, Lady Stella!” a lively voice cried, cutting Roland’s words short.

I looked up. “Mina.”

The remonstrance had come from a maid about Ellie’s height whose flaxen hair curled away from her face. She had turned twenty-one this year, if I recalled correctly, but she looked younger. Her name was Mina Walker, and she was the Howard Maid Corps’s second-in-command, who led its combat team now that Shelley was retired from active duty. At present, she and a dozen or so other maids comprised my temporary guard.

Mina walked up to me, umbrella in hand. As she brushed Roland aside, she muttered something that I couldn’t quite catch. (“Move it, and don’t even think about getting all romantic under that umbrella. Lady Stella’s new hairstyle should tell you she’s not in the mood. You fail.”) I thought I saw the maid’s elbow dig into his solar plexus, but she ignored my staggering butler and beamed at me.

“The people all appreciate your devotion over these few days!” she exclaimed brightly. “They say they’re honored to receive personal attention from Your Highness! Full marks!”

My homeland had four dukes, one each in the north, east, south, and west. While dukes of other nations were addressed as “Your Grace,” members of our ducal houses were styled “Highness” in recognition of our role in founding the kingdom and blood ties to the royal family. That made me “Her Highness, Lady Stella Howard.”

“Anyone could have done as much,” I responded. “I hear Tina has already been all around the duchy.”

Over the past few days, I had spoken to people throughout southern Galois while I made my rounds, distributing food and treating the injured. And many of them had cheerfully asked after my sister.

“Is Lady Tina well?”

“Growing these new varieties of fruits and vegetables Lady Tina brought us makes life worth living.”

“Those louts from the empire may wreck the fields, but we’ll have them good as new in no time!”

My thoughts must have shown on my face, because Mina said encouragingly, “They all truly appreciate you! There’s no doubt about that!”

“Thank you. It’s good to see you again, even under these circumstances. I really mean that,” I responded, reciprocating the maid’s smile with just a hint of mischief.

A shiver ran the length of Mina’s body and her flaxen hair. Her eyes widened as she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, L-Lady Stella, what a smile. A-Absolutely perfect marks.”

Faster than my eyes could follow, the other maids darted forward to support her.

“Ma’am!”

“Oh no! Her heart can’t take it.”

“You warned us yourself about getting overexcited!”

I feel a little calmer knowing that our maids are still so chipper.

“I’m delighted to see you’re enjoying yourself, Stella.” A voice intruded on my thoughts. “Perhaps Walter needn’t have worried.”

We all turned back toward the bridge. The new arrival, a bespectacled man holding a black umbrella, was the...

“Professor?! I thought you were with my father.”

“His Highness threatened me into looking in on you,” he explained. “I hope he appreciates that covering such long distances is strenuous work. Mina, Roly, ladies, I beg your pardon, but would you excuse yourselves for a moment?”

“Yes, sir!”

“I can’t agree to that. And I wish you wouldn’t call me—”

Mina’s knee drove into the pit of Roland’s stomach.

“I see they haven’t changed,” the professor remarked, grinning as the maid corps’s second-in-command dragged my butler away. “Now, Stella, I won’t beat around the bush—Ohwin, the old capital, has fallen.”

I was speechless. Ohwin was the largest city in northern Galois. The imperial army was moving too fast, even considering that our forces were avoiding pitched battle.

The professor gave a slight nod. “The enemy is advancing more swiftly than expected. Their commander, Crown Prince Yugene, is either highly motivated or accompanied by an excellent staff. And given the state of their supplies, I suspect the imperial vanguard will soon split from the main force and make for their next target—perhaps the wealth of provisions stored at Meer in central Galois.”

There had been no backlash against the retreat, due in part to my house’s history of good governance in Galois. Even so, perhaps we should have stood our ground and fought.

“I discussed the matter with Walter, and we agreed to follow our original plan,” the professor continued. “Our army will retreat, guarding the civilian population, until the time is ripe for battle. Half of the under-duke’s forces are already encamped in Rostlay, constructing field fortifications.”

“Until the time is ripe”? What a convenient turn of phrase.

“Let me be blunt,” I said, looking the professor dead in the eye. “Does my father not trust me? Is that why he won’t explain the details of our strategy and forbade me to wear a military uniform or go anywhere near a battlefield?”

“You’re still just fifteen,” he responded. “A Leinster might go to war at that age, but—”

“Tina and Ellie are serving at headquarters.”

“But you would have refused an order to stay in the rear echelon, where it’s safe.”

He saw right through me.