Surviving as a Prince of Britannia

Holy Britannian Empire

Area 3

Duchy of Tenochtitlan

Office of the Grand Marshal

My Office

Bang

“Hehe... Your Highness?”

The door flew open, and Millirze entered.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar woman in a pure white dress adorned with black ribbons.

Grinning broadly, Millirze gave her a light push forward.

“The ladies have concluded their conference!"

“And the winner of the Assistant No. 2 position is—Princess Euphemia’s head lady-in-waiting, Viscountess Alba el Peño!”

The woman bowed gracefully at the waist.

“...Please, simply call me Lady Alba. I look forward to serving you, Your Highness.”

At that moment, I recalled something Euphemia had told me.

During the Atlantic War, both Lady Alba’s elder half-brother—who was also her husband—and her eldest son had served with the Order of Nueva Toledo.

They had both died defending the coffin of Emperor Eduardo the Great, during my retreat from England to Iceland.

Their bodies had never even been recovered.

“...It's a pleasure to meet you. I would like you to oversee domestic administration."

"Millirze, from now on, you are to concentrate on military affairs, diplomacy, and intelligence.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

...In a sense, both knightly orders that had remained by my side throughout the Atlantic War—the Orders of Nueva Santiago and Nueva Toledo—had now received their share of the rewards.

On my recommendation, the eldest son of Cielo, Grand Master of the Order of Nueva Santiago, had been appointed Commissioner-General of Public Security in the Imperial Capital of Pendragon.

As for the Order of Nueva Toledo, Lady Alba had established a special admissions program at the Imperial University of Pendragon for bereaved military families and disabled veterans.

In recognition of that achievement, she had become both Euphemia’s head lady-in-waiting and one of my advisers.

Just as Millirze, with her black dress fluttering, was about to show Lady Alba to her desk, the latter suddenly raised her hand.

“Your Highness, there is one matter on which I would ask leave to speak freely.”

Millirze’s eyes widened.

“Lady Alba! We've already settled this!"

"Your second son, Alfonso, was admitted to the Imperial University of Pendragon on Princess Euphemia’s recommendation, so what more could you possibly—”

I raised one hand and stopped her.

“It is all right. Speak freely. I ask only that you stop short of lèse-majesté.”

Millirze pouted.

“Your Highness... aren’t you being too generous?”

“I gave her my word. Millirze, stand down.”

Grinding her teeth, Millirze took one step back.

With my permission, Lady Alba drew a deep breath, then unleashed the words as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

“Whether they were Knights of the Round, grand masters of knightly orders, or generals, these were people who had spent more than twenty years mastering a single machine."

"And yet they could not stop one girl who had barely come of age."

"They marched all the way to the gates of Rome, only to be driven back in an instant."

"The Pampas Knightly Territory was sacked."

"The Imperial Capital of Pendragon was attacked repeatedly, both from the Atlantic and from the direction of Area 2... and after all that, they still have the nerve to boast that we won?”

My eyebrow twitched.

“Go on.”

“The war indemnities we wrung from that two-headed chicken are all being swallowed up by Prince Schneizel’s project to modernize Pendragon’s arcologies, followed by arcology construction in every county of Area 1."

"Meanwhile, the sons and daughters of the feudal lords and local gentry of the Caudillo Belt are rushing into marriage or fleeing to the colonies because of their post-traumatic stress."

"Can we honestly call this a victory, Your Highness?”

“If I were in their place, I would have thrown myself into the Patapsco long ago.”

The Patapsco River—the river that runs through the Imperial Capital of Pendragon, known as Baltimore in my first life...

Millirze’s fists trembled.

“You insane widow! I lost comrades too! Do you think you’re the only one grieving, huh?!”

Strictly speaking, Millirze had enlisted in the 95th Rifle Knightly Order after the Atlantic War and had only risen to her current position through Caroline’s recommendation.

So they were comrades only in the broadest possible sense...

No, never mind.

“Millirze.”

At the sound of my low voice, she fell silent.

Tears welled in Lady Alba’s eyes.

“...Pyrrhic or not, we won. My husband and son must be rejoicing in Heaven... mustn’t they?”

Drop

Drop

She sank to her knees.

“Then let my life answer for my insolence, Your Highness."

"Grief for my husband and son made me forget my place.”

I rose, took her by the arms, and helped her back to her feet.

“No. Every word you have spoken has struck me to the bone."

"All of this... is my responsibility as Grand Marshal of the Empire.”

Millirze added from beside me,

“As soon as that two-headed chicken—no, the SPQR—signed the surrender agreement, His Highness went straight to the cemetery of the 95th Rifle Knightly Order."

"He poured liquor over every grave, called every soldier by name, and wept for the entire day.”

Strictly speaking, it had been an armistice agreement, not a surrender agreement.

Still, since both Charles and Schneizel had chosen to call it a surrender... never mind.

Anyway, at her words, Lady Alba’s eyes widened.

I spoke calmly.

“From this day forward, speak just as freely about domestic affairs."

"I need your voice — to ensure that the deaths of those who went before us were not in vain.”

Wiping away her tears, Alba nodded.

“...Thank you. I shall do so, Your Highness.”

For a brief moment, I believed that Lady Alba’s arrival would provide the balanced perspective on domestic affairs that I had been hoping for.

Then, only a few moments later, she asked,

“Then, Su Alteza... is this the part where I take off my dress?”

...Pardon?