Bear School Astartes

Chapter 441. Rumors

"In Sintra, women have never had the right to inherit. Only men can."

Calanthe said calmly.

Lann was now standing behind her, slightly to the side, unable to see her face. But inexplicably, Lann sensed a tone full of sarcasm and resentment beneath that calm voice.

"This is an ancient law, stubborn and unyielding. I once tried to make changes, but to this day... I can have a Sintra Knight die for me without hesitation on the battlefield, yet I cannot get him to speak a word for me in court, on this law."

Lann remained silent.

This situation was not abnormal and could even be said to be logical.

For a person’s identity and position are the result of multiple factors converging. A knight who can die for his lord on the battlefield is certainly loyal and brave.

But at the same time, as a member of the noble class, this knight must also uphold the ruling power and interpretative authority of his own class under the law.

These are things he would give his life for.

"Rogner’s Demon Spirit is only resentful that you haven’t given him a son. It seems this doesn’t affect your feelings for the current King. After all, neither of you has shown a yearning for offspring."

The young man said indifferently.

But this remark only provoked a burst of laughter from the queen.

"Don’t pretend, Lann. For the sake of the plague and smallpox. You can see the current political situation, but can’t you understand the true power of rumors? Since when has the content of a rumor ever been important? As long as the spread is long enough and strange enough, who wouldn’t want to listen?"

After her laughter, Calanthe’s voice turned cold.

"Now, on the streets of Sintra, in the fields, a saying has begun to spread, a vicious one. Want to hear it, outsider?"

In fact, she didn’t even look at Lann’s reaction and continued on her own.

"They say: Calanthe initially married Rogner to make that Aebin’s prince the King of Sintra not because of love, but because he looked stupid and easy to control. Calanthe didn’t want the local nobles to interfere with her life because they only saw her as the queen of the next king. What she truly wanted was to become the supreme ruler of this country."

"Ambitious." Lann commented calmly, "But ambition is not a derogatory word for the Royal Family."

"If it ended there, it would be fine. But a good ’rumor’ must have twists and turns to captivate the listener."

Calanthe chuckled lightly.

"I was pregnant three times but only gave birth to the first daughter, Ciri’s mother, Pavetta. The other two resulted in miscarriages. So they say: Calanthe very much wanted to have a son, to be a future regent dowager, but things didn’t go as planned. Two miscarriages made her realize that she could never give birth again, and all her plans turned to ashes. This is a woman’s fate – a ravaged womb destroyed her ambitions higher than the sky."

"Oh, don’t rush. This pitiful experience is just the prelude to the rumor. Their dagger is usually buried at the final stage of the rumor..."

"Rogner couldn’t accept the end of his bloodline, so he began to pursue other young princesses, prioritizing those with wide hips for good childbearing, preferably from families with many offspring dating back generations. Calanthe discovered her position was wavering. Every meal, every drink hid potential death, and every hunt might end in an unfortunate accident. So..."

Calanthe’s smile now held not only mockery but a cold sharpness like ice.

"So, there is considerable evidence suggesting that Sintra’s Lioness decided to take the initiative, and Rogner died. At the time, the kingdom was ravaged by smallpox, so no one was surprised by the king’s death."

"At this point, a vicious rumor has formed."

Lann suddenly felt his lips were a bit dry, and he couldn’t help but lick them with his tongue.

"So, they’re portraying you as... a poisoner and a husband killer?"

The Demon Hunter shook his head, "The Skellige people won’t stand for that. If this accusation holds, then even if your current husband still supports you, it’s questionable how much support he could rally on the islands."

"Yes, Lann. Once again, your political sensitivity surprises me."

The queen praised, neither bitter nor joyful.

"Slandering me is secondary because they know I don’t care at all. But if they can drive a wedge between me and the islanders, then congratulations are in order."

"I’m telling you this not because I seek your pity. What use is the pity of a Demon Hunter? Even if you’re the renowned Hunting Marquis. I just want to tell you that now, even in Sintra City, my family and I aren’t truly safe."

"Wolves and leopards are watching us, ready to take a bite. Ciri... whether it’s her inheritance rights or her age, these factors lead me to want her to temporarily leave this dangerous place."

A brief silence followed as Lann digested the situation.

A princess in the Middle Ages entrusted to the care of hunters or farmers... He had always thought this was the kind of cliché plot only found in fairy tales.

But now, this plot was laid in front of him logically and reasonably.

"Why a Demon Hunter, Your Majesty?"

Lann leaned against the trunk of a large tree, tilting his head as he asked.

"You’ve investigated us, you should know that trying to become a Demon Hunter involves... going through some absolutely terrible experiences."

"Yes, the Trial of Grasses. That cruel magical mutation, what’s your survival rate typically? Four out of ten? Three out of ten? My sources can only provide a rough estimate."

Calanthe spoke casually, as if completely indifferent to the concepts behind those numbers.

To make her understand that these numbers represent living people who died, Lann deliberately intensified his tone in response.

"Three out of ten, Your Majesty. Out of ten children, only three survive, and the rest meet horrible ends."

"Bloody hell! Is the trial the only danger? Is it only future Demon Hunters who take risks? Life is full of dangers, Lann. Life is also dominated by variables: accidents, illnesses, wars."

Calanthe snorted disdainfully.

"Like my children, both those born and unborn. Out of three, only one survived! Although I don’t have a math degree, common knowledge is enough for me to conclude: how much better is this than your three out of ten?"

"The mishaps occurred in my womb, Sintra’s queen! Sintra’s Lioness! The care and expenses I received during pregnancy could equal half the lifetime of an ordinary farmer! But my children miscarried, didn’t they?"

"Stop lamenting the risks you’ve faced." she complained, "That’s not like the rumored you. What one encounters is not important; I can clearly see who you’ve become. If I were certain Pavetta’s child would become like you, I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment, Lann!"