Patriot and Queen – Part 09
Appearing to be just a little over ten, her physique was hardly different from Lisa’s. She wore a glamorous gown, and atop her head sat a crown that looked like it might slip off at any moment. The throne itself seemed too large for her, and when she leaned against one armrest, the other side was left with more than enough space.
She seemed more like a princess rather than a queen, but she defied that impression with how she commanded the attention of over a dozen adult soldiers with regal dignity while wearing a smile. Strangely enough, it felt like this was exactly how she was meant to be. The graceful touch on her impeccably combed hair, the sly curl of her lips, the piercing gaze of her fierce eyes. Her unusual demeanor encapsulated everything that earned Zenobia Q. Lanchester the title of Girl King.
There was no question that she stood at the very top of the Militant Nation.
“Arvie Irving,” Zenobia addressed. “You’ve done well to guide them here.”
Arvie, standing beside her, gave a quiet salute. “Your words are too kind.”
Harvey rose and placed a hand over his chest. “It’s an honor to meet you. I am Harvey Blethyn, Captain of the First District’s Knight Guard of the Independent Trade City. I’ll be representing Mayor Hugo Housman in this negotiation. Please feel free to consider me the contact for all matters concerning the Independent Trade City during our stay.”
Zenobia nodded with an air of grace that seemed so natural despite her age.
“Now, as for this person…” she began.
“She is Cecily Campbell, a member of the Third District’s Knight Guard of the Independent Trade City. Behind her is the Infernal Blade, Aria,” Harvey introduced.
Cecily gave a small, respectful bow in response.
“I knew it as soon as I saw you. You’re exactly as I’d heard,” Zenobia said, squinting. “Especially you, Miss Cecily Campbell. I heard your family, the Campbells, were once nobility. I thought I should prepare something suitable for you, so I had this dress made. I hope you like it.”
“O-O-Of course, I do.”
“Good.” Zenobia smiled widely, and for the first time, Cecily saw her express something truly girlish. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for a while.”
“What?”
“For Charlotte Firobisher’s asylum,” Zenobia continued. “I heard you helped her escape.”
“Oh, no, I should be thanking you. For accepting their asylum—”
Zenobia cut her off. “It is I who should be thanking you. You’ve given us very talented individuals.”
Cecily blinked repeatedly.
“Charlotte is now my personal attendant. I don’t have any siblings, so having someone my age to consider a sister has made me very happy. I’ve taken quite a liking to her. Doris has proven herself a capable soldier, and Margot and Penelope are hard-working maids. They’re all incredibly talented, and warm-hearted as well. I am truly grateful for their asylum. So, thank you.”
Zenobia gave a slight bow. Arvie gently adjusted the crown on her head, which seemed to constantly threaten to slide off. He seemed used to doing it.
Cecily went from being nervous to feeling let-down.
“And,” Zenobia added, lifting her head, “I heard you were attacked by assassins from the Crowd Powers during your journey. Only the senior officers here and the sacred swordsmiths know about the exchange. It seems there may be a traitor among us. I’ll deal with it shortly. It was our oversight. My apologies.”
Even though no one showed outward signs of distress, tension instantly filled the atmosphere.
Cecily swallowed hard, realizing how much power Zenobia wielded in this room. She couldn’t judge her based on her appearance alone. Arvie might have been adjusting her crown, but it was clear that Zenobia was the one in charge.
“That’s enough introduction,” Zenobia said. “Let’s get down to business.”
From here on, it was Harvey, the mayor’s proxy, who took charge of the conversation.
They exchanged information about the suspicious activities of the Empire and the Crowd Powers over the past few months. Harvey spoke of incidents involving Inhumans in the city, while Arvie shared news of increasing trade between the two nations. As previously discussed, Arvie also brought up their desire to form an alliance between the Militant Nation and the Independent Trade City in preparation for any potential crisis.
“Everything hinges on whether the blacksmith agrees to exchange techniques with us, but as a courtesy, let me share our thoughts first,” Arvie said, adjusting his glasses. “The worst Inhuman in continental history, Valbanill. The first thing you need to understand is that this beast is a type of ‘perpetual motion machine.'”
“A perpetual motion machine?”
“It means living forever without needing anything else. It survives on its own power. Valbanill is known to endlessly expel Aetheria, but that very Aetheria acts as nutrients that circulate through its body, keeping it alive. The exact mechanism is still a mystery, but it’s certain that Aetheria is essential for its survival. This discovery was made through the research of the first Housman.”
Cecily’s mind raced. A beast that creates and sustains itself with Aetheria? It was a completely unnatural existence. Ridiculous, even.
“Because of this, Valbanill can be harmed by the Sacred Sword,” Arvie continued. “The Sacred Sword is said to be particularly effective at cutting through Aetheria, as it has the ability to repel misfortune.”
It was no wonder the technique for forging the Sacred Sword was so highly coveted.
“But we have some concerns,” Arvie said. “I apologize for bringing this up after asking for your presence. The question is, can we truly recreate the original Sacred Sword?'”
“Even with the blacksmith’s assistance,” Zenobia added, taking over, “we might only be able to create a replica. That’s why we’ve also prepared for that scenario. In fact, we’re considering making it our main strategy instead.”
“What kind of strategy would that be?”
“A single replica likely won’t be able to cut through Valbanill’s flesh. But even a replica of the Sacred Sword could at least inflict some wounds. Now, what if there were two replicas? Four? Ten, fifty… over a hundred?”
Cecily gasped.
“Yes,” Zenobia nodded. “In other words, we believe that with hundreds of Sacred Sword replicas—through sheer volume—we could completely defeat Valbanill.”
The idea was one Cecily had never considered before. As a backup plan, it certainly sounded effective.
“To be honest,” Zenobia continued, “we believe the chances of recreating the original Sacred Sword to be very slim. We’ve requested the blacksmith’s help, not to recreate it, but to improve the quality of the replicas.”
This contingency plan had clearly been thought through by the Militant Nation. Zenobia’s words carried weight. But the idea of relying on “sheer numbers” stuck like a thorn in Cecily’s mind. Was this truly the right approach?
As she silently pondered, Harvey spoke up, turning to Arvie. “What about countermeasures for the inevitable fallout once Valbanill is slain?”
“As I mentioned before, we will force Blair Volcano into a dormant state. We’ll discuss it in more detail later. For now, we simply need to wait for the blacksmith’s decision.”
Zenobia nodded. “The Militant Nation sees no benefit in Valbanill. We view it as a threat that could plunge the continent into chaos. The Proxy Pact War forty-four years ago was caused by the Demon Pacts powered by Valbanill. But other nations… foolishly, they’re trying to profit from the Valbanill Campaign. Even the Continental Law Commission is no longer trustworthy.” Her voice was sharp. “Time is of the essence. Therefore, we ask the cooperation of the Independent Trade City.”
Cecily, listening with bated breath, finally spoke. “I have a question, if you please.”
“What is it? Feel free to ask anything,” Zenobia replied.
Harvey shot Cecily a quizzical look, but she ignored him.
Don’t be afraid, Cecily Campbell, she told herself.
“You just expressed aversion to Demon Pacts. However, I’ve heard that the continental nations keep them as a deterrent. Does your country do the same?”
Arvie furrowed his brow. The Girl King affirmed without hesitation.
“Then, do you plan to abandon them in the future?” Cecily pressed.
“Not for now, no.”
“Will they be used against Valbanill?”
“Get to the point,” Zenobia said. “I dislike beating around the bush.”
Don’t be afraid. Speak your mind.
“I can’t trust a nation that wields the corrupted power of Demon Pacts.”
A murmur of surprise rippled through the chamber. Zenobia’s gaze grew cold, but Cecily didn’t look away.
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