I made my way to the reception room where Mainz had informed me a guest was waiting.
The man inside was middle-aged, thin to the point of gauntness, dressed neatly but in clothes so worn and patched they spoke of long financial hardship. He paced anxiously before the fireplace, hands twisting the brim of a threadbare hat.
When I entered, he startled violently, eyes going wide as he took in my appearance.
I called the name Mainz had given me.
"Montrill Piraeus?"
He immediately snatched the hat from his head, clutching it against his chest like a shield.
"Y-Your Highness... Princess... Is it truly you? Princess Chloe?"
I could see emotions flickering across his weathered face in rapid succession—shock, recognition, grief, and something that looked almost like desperate hope.
He staggered toward me, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"Are you really Princess Chloe?"
"Yes. I'm glad to finally meet you, Montrill. It must have been a difficult journey. I've wanted to speak with you for quite some time."
When I offered him a gentle smile, he simply stared at me, breathing hard, as if he'd just run a great distance.
"Are you all right? Please, sit down for a moment."
But instead of accepting my concern with gratitude, he burst into tears.
"I didn't know... I had no idea you would grow up so healthy. So well. So strong..."
"Why are you crying? Please, calm yourself."
Looking mortified, he fumbled in his coat and produced a handkerchief to wipe his streaming eyes.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I... I tried many times over the years to request an audience at the palace. I wanted to see you—to know how you were faring after Her late Majesty passed. But each time, I was turned away. They said you were unwell. That you couldn't receive visitors..."
"You came looking for me?"
"Yes. I wanted to know that the Empress—that you were well."
"I see. I had no idea..."
Kavala had blocked him. Of course she had.
I knew it. And judging by the way Montrill's jaw tightened, he knew it too.
A brief, heavy silence fell between us—weighted with shared anger and mutual despair at what we both understood but could not yet speak aloud.
Montrill broke it first.
"I'm simply... so very glad to see that Your Highness looks healthy."
He said this even though I was still too thin, my complexion wan from recent illness. Even though the rumors of my madness had spread across the empire like poison.
What he really meant was: I'm relieved that, contrary to those rumors, you're not insane.
I could feel it—genuine concern and relief radiating from him. Someone, somewhere in this vast and treacherous world, had been worrying about me in a place I'd never known existed.
The realization made my chest ache.
"I was... incompetent. I couldn't protect my mother. I'm sorry."
"No! No, Your Highness, please don't say such things! I'm simply grateful—overwhelmed, truly—that I can meet you now, even after all this time."
He reached into his coat again, this time producing something carefully wrapped in cloth.
"I... I've been wanting to give this to Your Highness in person. For years."
"What is it?"
He unwrapped the cloth to reveal an envelope—old, crumpled, its edges worn soft from being handled countless times over the years.
"Please. Open it."
My fingers trembled slightly as I opened the yellowed envelope and drew out the letter inside.
"This is..."
The handwriting was achingly familiar. Elegant. Precise. Hers.
Montrill wiped his face once more with his handkerchief, voice thick with emotion.
"It's a letter Her Majesty the Empress sent me shortly before she passed away."
Montrill,
I trust this letter finds you well. There are several matters regarding the Szeged Merchant Association that require your immediate attention:
The shipment of Vermis textiles from the eastern provinces must be inspected personally before distribution. I've heard concerning reports about the quality of recent imports—please verify them yourself.
The accounting ledgers for the third quarter should be reviewed with particular care. Ensure that all transactions are properly documented and that no discrepancies appear in the records.
Most importantly, I would like to meet with you at the embassy in two days' time. There are newly imported goods I wish to inspect in person, and I value your expertise in these matters.
Please confirm your availability at your earliest convenience.
My fingers traced the familiar loops and curves of my mother's handwriting, each stroke a ghost of her presence.
"Her Majesty was actively involved in all operations of the Szeged Merchant Association. She cherished it deeply—poured her heart into every detail."
Montrill's voice wavered again with barely suppressed emotion.
"I see..."
I read and reread the letter, drinking in every word, every instruction, every tiny fragment of my mother that remained in this world.
Then Montrill spoke again, his tone shifting—becoming lower, more tense.
"But the truth is... the reason I'm showing this letter to Your Highness isn't to discuss the merchant association."
"...?"
"You may think I've lost my mind, but... please, look here."
He pointed to a specific passage in the letter with a shaking finger.
"When Her Majesty sent me this letter, she asked me to meet her at the embassy in two days. She wanted to inspect the imported goods in person."
"Yes, I read that."
"But that meeting never happened. Her Majesty the Empress... she died the day before our arranged appointment."
My breath caught.
"Without any warning. Without any sign."
He licked his lips nervously, watching my reaction with desperate intensity.
"What I mean to say is... Your Highness, what I've been wanting to tell you all these years is..."
"You have questions about my mother's death."
"...Yes."
"A person who is preparing to take her own life would never make such a commitment on the eve of her death. The Empress I knew—the woman I served for years—would never simply end her life like that...!"
His voice broke on the last word, fear and grief warring in his expression.
I looked at Montrill—this loyal, frightened man who had been carrying this terrible truth alone for over a decade—and gave him a bitter smile.
"I know everything."
"...Your Highness?"
"I know everything, Montrill. I can guess why you've never told anyone about this before. Why you're only now coming to me."
I leaned forward, meeting his eyes directly.
"I know everything."
"Ah... oh, gods..."
Montrill's composure finally shattered completely. He collapsed to his knees and wept—great, heaving sobs that shook his entire frame.
"Our poor Princess... you've suffered so much. You've truly suffered beyond measure... oh, gods, forgive us..."
Mainz, hearing the commotion, entered the drawing room with several knights at his back. But I waved them away with a gesture, and they quietly withdrew.
Montrill cried for a long time—purging years of guilt and helpless rage and grief.
"Forgive me for not being able to protect Your Highness. I can't even imagine what hardships you must have endured in that palace, surrounded by those people..."
My own eyes grew wet.
He bowed his head before me, unable to raise his tear-stained face.
"And more than anything... I'm so deeply ashamed to appear before you in this state. I should have properly protected the merchant association your mother built. I can't express how mortified I was when I heard that ownership had been transferred to Your Highness..."
"Why would you say such a thing?"
"The association is nothing but an empty shell now. When I learned that Empress Kavala had given Your Highness this ruined shell and this barren territory, exiling you to the far reaches of the empire..."
To calm him, I needed to correct his understanding immediately.
"No, Montrill. I asked for the Szeged Association and the Rosendal territory. I requested them specifically because I wanted them."
"What...?"
I handed him my own handkerchief—soft, clean, and far more suited to the task than his sodden one.
"I needed you, Montrill."
"Your Highness..."
"I need someone I can trust with my very life. Someone capable of running a merchant association with resilience, intelligence, and absolute loyalty."
"But look at me—I'm nothing now."
He gestured helplessly at his worn clothing, his gaunt frame.
"The current state of the association is no better than my own appearance."
"That may be true now. But I trust my mother's judgment. And I trust your abilities."
"Your Highness...!"
I lowered my voice, leaning forward so he could see the absolute conviction in my eyes.
"Will you help me achieve my revenge?"
He looked up at me then—really looked at me.
I watched emotions transform his face: gratitude that someone believed in him, hope that he might finally have purpose again after losing everything.
The emptiness and despair that had haunted his eyes moments before gave way to something I recognized immediately.
Determination. Purpose. Fire.
He wiped his face clean with my handkerchief, rose from the sofa, and knelt properly before me in the formal position of fealty.
"It would be my greatest honor, Your Highness. I will dedicate the remainder of my life to following you."
Montrill explained that he would rest for one day before returning to Arental, as he had much work to do rebuilding the merchant association.
I asked Mainz to ensure he was given comfortable accommodations and proper rest, then went to find Callius.
He was in his office, reviewing documents spread across his desk. The moment he noticed me enter, he looked up with immediate concern.
"Chloe. Are you feeling better?"
That warm concern in his voice made my heart flutter traitorously. I smiled, feeling awkward and strangely shy.
"Thanks to your care, yes."
"I heard you had a visitor—the director of the Szeged branch?"
I explained everything about Montrill: his loyalty to my mother, his trustworthiness, how invaluable his assistance would be moving forward.
Callius listened without interruption, then nodded decisively.
"If you recommend him as trustworthy, Chloe, that's endorsement enough for me."
That unwavering support brought an unexpected sting of tears to my eyes. How many times in my previous life had I longed for someone—anyone—to believe in me like this?
"Why are you smiling?"
"Me?"
I tried to school my expression into something more neutral, but he'd already caught me.
He rested his chin on his hand, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Do you feel that good just from looking at my face?"
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
He made a V-shape with his thumb and forefinger, framing his jawline in an absolutely insufferable display of vanity.
"Well, I can't blame you. I must be the most handsome face you've ever seen."
"That's what my friend used to say!"
"You said I look exactly like him, so doesn't that make it true?"
"Please refrain from making that expression!"
"Which one?"
"That smug, self-satisfied—"
"But you like it, don't you?"
I reached up to cover my traitorous face, then quickly lowered my hands when I realized what I was doing.
My cheeks actually hurt from smiling so hard.
No...! I was only laughing because he was being so ridiculously shameless...!
I hastily changed the subject, forcing my expression into something more serious.
"I just received a report about the funds from selling the Vermis mushrooms and the remaining proceeds from the jewels."
Callius immediately set aside his teasing, focusing on the matter at hand.
"Some of it was used to purchase food supplies as you ordered. There's still a considerable amount remaining. What do you want to do with it?"
"I need to use it to fulfill my promise to you."
The promise to reclaim Ronheim wasn't some distant, abstract goal.
"We'll begin raising an army immediately. The Szeged Association has already promised to supply us with weapons."
Callius looked genuinely surprised—as if he hadn't expected me to move so quickly and decisively on military preparations.
I met his gaze squarely.
"Because I imprisoned Sernia, Empress Kavala will soon realize I've betrayed her."
"Then we should prepare for the possibility that she'll send an army against us—"
But I shook my head, cutting him off.
"No. Before she can make that move..."
I leaned forward, voice dropping to something cold and absolute.
"We'll strike the Empress first."
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