Chapter 18 - The Flaw of Marquess Randolph Mares (Part Two)
Randolph's expression changed completely as he broke the seal and began reading the letter.
"Arveil, is this true?"
"It is exactly as the young lady has written."
He frowned for just a moment at the overly concise reply, then returned his gaze to the letter.
As he read on, Randolph's expression grew grim.
Well, it's no wonder, Arveil thought.
The daughter he sent to the Royal Capital as his representative had her engagement broken by the Crown Prince and was even declared exiled.
The daughter in question is heading for Mares, fully prepared to fight a battle.
There is no parent who wouldn't change their expression at this.
"Arveil."
Randolph, who had finished reading the not-so-long letter, spoke in a voice that sounded as if it were being pushed out.
He was pressing the area between his eyebrows with his right hand as if pinching it.
"Is this true?"
"It is true."
A long, long sigh escaped him.
"Even with you by her side, why did this happen?"
"Regarding the dissolution of the engagement, it was beyond my power, but..."
"I am not talking about that. You know that."
Arveil remembered that they had the same exchange in the carriage that night.
It required a bit of effort to keep his face from smiling.
"Regarding the exile as well, I suggested to the young lady that she should beg His Highness for mercy."
"What did Aria say?"
"She said her head is not so cheap that she would lower it to beg for forgiveness for an irrational condemnation. Flatly."
Another long sigh escaped Randolph's mouth.
The sight of him looking down while pressing his temples with his fingers was something he only showed to his family or a very few close retainers.
"And so she sent you here. Aria herself is coming by ship from Corgia, then?"
"Yes.
At this time of year, the sea will not be rough. I expect it will be another two or three days until she reaches the port of Mares."
"If it comes to war, I can only say it is truly admirable."
He added as if he had given up on something, thinking that she had indeed taken after her father.
"My Lord, regarding that, I have a message from the young lady."
"What is it?"
With an air of 'is there still more?', Randolph kept his face down and only turned his gaze toward Arveil.
"If you do not intend to fight, she said to let me and Butler Stevens take the blame and present our heads along with the young lady's."
"Absurd."
Randolph snapped his head up, color returning to his face.
"You and Stuart might be satisfied with that, but I will not allow it. I absolutely will not allow it.
That headstrong girl being exiled was due to her own mismanagement, and my mismanagement for not being able to fully discipline Aria.
However, it is also a fact that there is no reason for the condemnation. There is no logic in presenting the heads of my daughter and loyal retainers. Besides,"
Tossing the letter he had finished reading onto the desk, Randolph took another breath.
"After using you to perform such tricks in order to go to war, is it something that can be settled by merely presenting heads now?
If it were just exile, that would be one thing, but once rebellion has begun, it is no longer a matter that can be settled with an apology."
After being angry for a while, Randolph chuckled softly.
"In the end, Aria is the same as ever, I see.
You and Stuart must be having a hard time with this kind of spoiled behavior."
"I have never thought of it as a hardship."
"If it is you, that may be so.
But it is not good to spoil her like that."
Randolph replied with a wry smile, as if to say it couldn't be helped.
My Lord, you are much the same, Arveil thought, though he didn't say it aloud.
"—Well, however, if we are to do it, we must do it thoroughly."
The face of Randolph as he spoke had become an expression of someone who had cleared their mind of something.
"Arveil, how are your arrangements?"
"Everything I was told to do is proceeding smoothly.
From Ezrin to the east, no orders from the Crown Prince or anything else will reach for a while.
By the time they do reach, I expect the opportunity to move the army will have been lost."
"Hmm," Randolph nodded.
"In that case, all that remains is Viscount Redan?"
"Yes, My Lord. The young lady also said that seizing Redan and Alas Pass is the key to this war."
"If that is the case, there can only be one thing to do."
"Yes, My Lord."
"The basic plan sent by Aria should be fine. You have full authority."
Randolph tapped the letter on the desk with his hand.
"I will assign two deputy envoys. If it is you, there is no need to worry about negotiations, but it would be inconvenient in many ways to be alone."
"Thank you, My Lord."
"I will arrange for the ship, the people, and the necessary cargo. You should rest for a while.
From the look of you, you haven't slept much. I will have you woken when the preparations are complete."
Arveil bowed silently.
"Arveil."
Randolph called out to his back as he was about to leave.
"Yes."
Arveil stopped and looked back.
"It was Aria who recommended you for full authority. You be the one to bring this to a conclusion.
Both Aria and I are expecting that."
"As you wish."
Arveil replied briefly and gave a knight's salute.
Randolph nodded for him to go, and Arveil exited the office.
Staring at the closed door, Randolph sighed once more.
It was a situation that exceeded the worst-case scenario he had been fearing somewhere in his mind.
Since he knew his daughter's temperament resembled his father's, he had intended to teach her the ways to manage it.
Instead of having her learn from his father, who always stood at the front lines and showed his back to his subordinates, he had shown her how to grasp and control the overall situation while using subordinates effectively.
He taught her what territory management was, had her learn the necessary knowledge, and had her acquire the education and manners appropriate for a future Queen.
Because he thought she had absorbed everything and was capable of the role, he had let her go from his side and given her the position of representative in the Royal Capital.
Two years since then, what had been created was a seventeen-year-old who combined his father's temperament and his own ability to use people.
Randolph looked down again at the letter his daughter had sent.
What had happened, what had been done so far, and what should be done from now on were written down matter-of-factly.
—Even if he were in the same position, he might have made the same decision. However, only after hesitating.
Looking at it as a conclusion, the actions his daughter took were correct. At least, they were not wrong.
But could one really decide so without hesitation and move to execution without delay?
Even if he understood that time was precious, he was not confident that he could have avoided wasting that precious time.
Even so, Randolph thought.
He wasn't sure whether he should praise or scold that daughter he would be meeting after a long time.
"I suppose I should praise her."
He exhaled along with his several-th sigh of the day.
It is right to resist an unreasonable judgment. Otherwise, it would affect the prestige the House of the Marquess has maintained.
If resisting is right, then it is merely a question of how to win.
It was his duty to correctly evaluate his daughter, who had chosen the most effective means to win with the greatest speed.
He could only praise her, saying she did well and that she was indeed the representative of the Marquess's house.
Randolph sighed once more, made an effort to tighten his expression, and rang the bell to call back the butler and scribes who had left.
*
Marquess Randolph Hazen has a reputation as a great lord who devotes himself to improving the lives of his people.
He has never shown the same talent for war as his father, the previous head, Lambert, but even so, there is no room for doubt regarding his skill in improving the standard of living for the people while protecting the borders.
However, Randolph had a small flaw that everyone who served him knew about.
He was soft on his daughter.
He's a papa, so it can't be helped that he's soft on his daughter.