novelraw Chapter 258: Epilogue (6)
Chapter 258: Epilogue (6)
Episode 258. Epilogue (6)
Lumiere, the capital of Francia.
The Presidential Palace (formerly the Francia Royal Palace)
“Welcome, Countess Aquitaine. Haha, thank you for accepting my invitation despite your busy schedule.”
The President of Francia, Maurice Talleyrand, greeted her affably.
Christine elegantly fluttered her fan before snapping it shut and replying with a slight nod.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, President.”
“Come, this way. Will you be having coffee, as usual?”
“I won’t refuse. If it’s something the President has prepared, its quality is sure to be even better.”
“Ahem, ahem. Please don’t think me too extravagant. When the tongue is pleased, the mood improves, and when the mood improves, a person softens, does they not? A professional trait, you see, haha.”To Talleyrand’s pleasantries, Christine sat down and replied with a faint smile.
“That wasn’t my intention when I said it.”
Talleyrand gave a wry smile and raised both his hands.
“Oh my, please have a little mercy, Countess. I’m at my wit’s end. My point of comparison is Her Majesty the Queen, who has surpassed the realm of frugality, so I’m constantly being picked apart and my defenses go up reflexively.”
“Hmm.”
“And aren’t the most fearsome opponents among them you, Countess, and the Marquis? I hope you will be generous in your understanding.”
Christine chuckled lightly without refuting him and savored the aroma of the fine coffee that had been prepared.
After a moment of enjoying the coffee, Talleyrand carefully began to speak.
“I wish to express my sincere gratitude for your recent decision to sell off or separate some of the domains you were in charge of, Countess Aquitaine.”
“Don’t mention it. It was a measure taken because the excessive concentration of duties was a burden on me as well.”
Christine answered calmly, but Talleyrand knew it was merely a polite response.
After all, the woman before him was a member of the National Assembly and the ruler of Francia’s financial power, a woman of monstrous capability who had flawlessly managed both the National Intelligence Service and the Navy.
Talleyrand cleared his throat and spoke again.
“These aren’t just empty words. The members of the Assembly who had been concerned were finally able to rest easy because you voluntarily separated the powers that had been unavoidably concentrated during the war.”
Recently, Christine had resigned from her positions as Admiral of the Navy and Head of the National Intelligence Service.
She had also broken up the Aquitaine Merchant Guild, which had been responsible for all military supplies and logistics within Francia, into various business divisions, selling some off as state-owned enterprises.
It was no wonder the National Assembly and politicians were greatly relieved, as the influence previously held by the individual known as Countess Aquitaine had reached a level beyond concern, bordering on terror.
It had reached the point where the Countess Aquitaine’s ability to sway Francia was considered a greater threat than even the influence of Marquis Lafayette, who practically ruled the Revolutionary Army.
“I see. Though I never held any ulterior motives.”
Christine, who had been leisurely savoring her coffee, said with a small smile.
Yet, that alone seemed to send a shiver down Talleyrand’s spine.
“Of course, we never suspected you of such things, Countess. We were merely concerned because a situation that can only be maintained by relying on an individual's goodwill is not normal.”
“Hmm, that’s true.”
Faced with the enigmatic, dark-haired woman, Talleyrand grimaced inwardly.
Unfortunately, the President had nowhere to run. He was the head of the government, and naturally, he was the only one who could dare to broach the subject with Countess Aquitaine.
The problem was that his position was less about reining in her solo run and more about anxiously pleading for her cooperation, all the while worrying if he was just pulling the whiskers of a sleeping lion.
The debts owed to Countess Aquitaine since the war had not been fully repaid, even now, after Queen Esiliste had stepped down and he was serving his second term as President.
In a situation where the government would have to worry about declaring bankruptcy if the Countess applied pressure, who could possibly treat her carelessly?
Talleyrand felt a need for stomach medicine as he began to speak.
“The reason I’ve invited you here today is because there is one more matter that requires your cooperation, Countess.”
“What is it?”
“...Ahem, ahem. There is a need to progressively alleviate the burden of forced labor imposed upon the Demon Race of Abyss Corporation.”
Talleyrand was anxious even as he spoke.
After their victory in the war against Abyss Corporation, the Allied Nations established a military government on the Abyss Archipelago and have been mobilizing them for forced labor.
To call it forced labor was putting it mildly; they had effectively enslaved the entire Demon Race.
Among them, the Aquitaine Merchant Guild, which had contributed the most to the holy war, received a huge stake and naturally owned the largest number of Demon Race slaves at its business sites.
Christine said nothing, merely savoring her coffee, and Talleyrand felt his mouth go dry as he continued.
“Of course, the demons committed great sins, and they are performing labor as a consequence. However, the situation of exploiting these highly skilled demons for a pittance is actually having an adverse effect on Francia’s economy.”
“How so? To avoid the collapse of Francia’s domestic economy, Aquitaine sells products from the Abyss Archipelago at prices similar to comparable domestic goods, exports the surplus, and controls the quantity released. We are also complying with the labor conditions stipulated by the treaty.”
Instead, the profits from the incredibly low costs of using demon slaves go directly to the Aquitaine Merchant Guild.
It’s not for nothing that businessmen are desperate to acquire business sites in the Abyss Archipelago, and Aquitaine, which holds an unrivaled share, is estimated to have a total capital equivalent to Francia’s entire gross national product.
And if this situation continues, it’s only natural that other businessmen will start to complain. It is a natural thing for checks to arise against a giant corporation that is out of the ordinary.
Of course, if they used that as their justification, Aquitaine would demand immediate repayment of all loans, so that line of reasoning wouldn’t work in the slightest.
“Ahem, ahem. As you know, there are also opinions that it is unjust to place such a heavy burden on the entire race, even though the ones who started the Abyss Corporation’s war are already dead. And in reality, while they agreed for the sake of survival for now, if this situation continues, there is a risk that it could become a source of conflict again someday.”
In fact, as the horrors of war faded and the fear of drones became the stuff of stories, such opinions began to emerge.
Especially among the members of the Allied Military Government dispatched to the Abyss Archipelago, and those who operated businesses there and had direct contact and exchange with the demons.
The one raising their voice the loudest among them is...
"...Governor-General Damien De Millbeau is also strongly advocating for improved treatment."
Christine chuckled lightly.
After rumors spread that he had confessed to Giselle Davi and been rejected, Damien seems to have been comforted by Leah, the leader of the succubi.
And then...
“Indeed, real women are dangerous! Women in dreams are the best! Succubi are the best!”
...he began to spout such bizarre nonsense.
Upon receiving this report, Christine seriously suspected that Damien had been bewitched and corrupted by the Demon Race and summoned Eris, but the dear Saintess, with a look of utter pity, certified that no mental interference of any kind had been inflicted on him.
In other words, after being rejected by the woman he loved, he was comforted by a succubus, fell head over heels for her, and then began to actively call for the improvement of the Demon Race’s treatment.
For once, Christine wholeheartedly agreed with Pierre’s assessment.
'To think that's considered Francia's most renowned commander...'
Christine leisurely sipped her coffee and then nodded.
“Very well. It would be a disaster if the Demon Race started a war for independence, so if you put it on the agenda, I will help.”
“A-Are you serious?”
To the delighted Talleyrand, Christine added with a slight twist of her lips.
“In exchange, I shall receive temporary tax benefits.”
Talleyrand’s face immediately soured.
“No, let’s be frank, Countess! You already have enough wealth to buy all of Francia, yes? What more money do you need?”
“A merchant does not engage in a losing trade. This benefits me only in the short term; in the long term, I am overlooking a loss. I trust you know why I am overlooking it.”
“Kuhk...”
In the end, she’s probably only agreeing because Marquis Lafayette or the Saintess asked her to.
But as the Countess said, if this situation were left unchecked, a problem would eventually erupt.
If it isn't corrected now while the other party is willing to talk, it will become impossible to handle later.
But to think he had to bear the entire burden during his term.
Moreover, his predecessor was the Saintess Queen, praised for relinquishing power without complaint despite being loved by the people more than anyone, and his watchdog was that Pierre de Lafayette, whose name alone was terrifying.
Talleyrand once again desperately wished for stomach medicine.
*
A while later.
Christine finished her day’s schedule and arrived at the manor by carriage.
“Welcome home, Madam.”
The old, portly butler, Dumont, greeted her politely—
“Welcome home, Mother.”
“Mom!”
Christine bent down to embrace Leon and Fleur as they ran to her.
“Oh my, Lady Fleur. Your etiquette...”
“But it’s nice to be comfortable at home. Mom is Mom, right, Mom?”
At her innocent and rambunctious daughter’s whining, Christine just chuckled.
“Mother, thank you for your hard work today.”
“Thank you, Leon. Are your lessons going well?”
“Yes, I learned history and mathematics today.”
Her eldest son, Leon, was quiet for his age and preferred books and the indoors.
“Mom, can I learn swordsmanship from Mister Gaston? I pestered him to teach me, but he said I need my parents' permission!”
On the other hand, her daughter Fleur was so full of life she seemed to have inherited the blood of a knight.
Christine gave an awkward smile to the contrasting siblings she could never quite get used to.
“Umm, get permission from your father.”
“Does that mean you give me permission, Mom?”
“...Huh?”
“If I get Dad’s permission, will you give me yours?”
Christine was taken aback, but with her child thrusting her face forward, her clear eyes burning with expectation, she nodded before she knew it.
“Alright, yay! Now how do I persuade Dad... Ehehe.”
“...Using cuteness as a weapon is too cowardly for someone who dreams of being a knight, Fleur.”
“This is called being flexible, you old man of a brother.”
“W-What? Hey! You take that back!?”
Christine couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her two children, their composure evaporating in an instant as they began to bicker like little kids.
Pierre was right.
The children didn't care if she was called the Black Witch of Aquitaine or anything else.
The pure, unprejudiced children judged their mother only by what they saw, and they readily loved her.
“Ah. Goodness me, where is my mind. Madam, come to think of it, a guest has arrived. They arrived just a moment ago.”
At the elderly butler's words, Christine tilted her head and replied.
“A guest?”
*
When Christine entered the reception room, Giselle Davi, who had been sitting stiffly, shot to her feet.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency, Countess Aquitaine! I beg your forgiveness for the discourtesy of visiting without an appointment.”
“You may sit comfortably, Major General Davi.”
Christine gestured for her to sit and then sat across from Giselle Davi.
“Since you are a Major General, I assume you wouldn't disturb me for a trivial matter. What is it?”
Giselle wore a bewildered expression, then—
she bowed deeply to Christine.
“I apologize, Your Excellency, Countess Aquitaine. I have made a mistake.”
Christine blinked.
“A mistake? What about?”
“...Young Master Louis has developed feelings for me.”
At her rather solemn tone, Christine felt a little anticlimax.
Why is this news now?
It was Giselle who was more flustered by Christine's reaction.
“I most certainly harbored no personal feelings. ...I thought it was just the kind of admiration a younger brother often feels, so I didn't refuse him firmly, and that, so... in the end.”
Christine looked at Giselle with a rather intrigued expression.
In truth, Christine knew that was exactly what Giselle Davi had done.
When Louis finally confessed to Giselle after the war was over, Giselle had replied that if his heart hadn’t changed in five years, she would think about it then.
Giselle would probably faint if she heard that Louis had informed Christine of this and steeled his resolve.
Perhaps Giselle, who was already in her mid-twenties at the time, thought Louis’s feelings would soon fade like the love sickness a rich young master temporarily suffers from.
She probably didn't know it was a love he had nurtured since he was a teenager.
“It seems Louis has proposed.”
At Christine’s calm words, which showed she knew everything, Giselle answered urgently.
“I apologize, Your Excellency, Countess Aquitaine. I truly did not intend to repay your grace with a grudge, I...”
Seeing the once-composed staff officer completely panic-stricken, Christine spoke leisurely.
“Is Louis not to your liking?”
“No, that’s not it! I—”
“Then there’s no problem.”
“Pardon?”
“Louis says he likes you, and it seems you don’t dislike him either. In that case, just try dating him.”
Giselle’s mouth hung open for a while before she slowly began to speak.
“I am… of common birth.”
“And the first female general.”
“...I am the head of a large, poor family that has survived on your patronage, Your Excellency.”
“Is that a problem? Louis is also a well-earning mage, and Aquitaine has more than enough money.”
In front of the speechless Giselle, Christine snapped her fluttering fan shut and set it down.
“Of course, if you dislike the idea because of what I did, I can make Louis give up—”
“That’s not it!”
To Giselle's urgent reply, Christine smiled lightly.
“Giselle Davi.”
“...Yes, Countess.”
“Thank you. The fact that my brother can stand proudly on his own without resenting me is surely in large part thanks to you. So all the more, I would be grateful if you didn’t see his heart as a mere childish emotion, but saw him as an equal.”
Giselle was stunned for a moment, then she shot up from her seat and bowed her head to Christine.
“...I apologize, Countess Aquitaine. I have been rude.”
Christine chuckled lightly and replied.
“It’s fine. We might become family, so I am more than willing to overlook that much. In return, I hope you’ll grant my request.”
Giselle could finally smile.
“Yes, of course.”
With just that, Giselle looked relieved, as if all her worries had been resolved.
Christine hoped her actions had helped Louis.
That it would help grant the one and only wish of the brother who had forgiven and understood her, the enemy of his mother.
Earnestly.
*
After Giselle Davi left.
The cool winter wind blew, coloring her cheeks red.
Once, Christine had hated winter.
When the pure white snow fluttered in the cold, and life faded away.
It unwillingly reminded her of the winter when she was 18, of the blood splattered on the white snow.
But now, Christine was simply sitting on the balcony, leisurely savoring her wine.
She still wasn’t quite used to such leisurely times.
Until just a few months ago, she had to move like a machine day by day, following a schedule planned down to the minute, and she had considered it normal.
She entrusted the position of Admiral of the Navy to Ludovic Dureng, the former captain of the Libre.
Lina, once Christine’s handmaiden, became the Head of the National Intelligence Service and became completely independent from Aquitaine.
The web of businesses she managed were also distributed and entrusted to qualified individuals she had been watching among those who had been loyal and dedicated.
Many of them would break away from Aquitaine's influence over time, but that was exactly what Christine wanted.
Now that she had achieved everything Pierre had wanted, there was no reason to keep holding onto unnecessary power and make enemies.
Rather than handing her children a heavy burden that was difficult just to protect, Christine wanted to teach them how to obtain what they could hold in their own hands.
And above all.
She realized that enjoying times like this wasn't so bad.
Christine savored the aroma of the wine and gazed at the sky as the sunset faded.
After spending a time of waiting that was a little dull, and a little heart-fluttering.
A shadow leaped onto the balcony.
Christine blinked her eyes, then laughed in bafflement.
“You must be the only person who jumps onto a second-floor balcony instead of using the front door of his own house, Pierre.”
Pierre approached with a gentle smile.
“I wanted to see you quickly. Besides, isn’t this the right answer?”
Christine watched with loving eyes as the knight approached, knelt on one knee, and kissed the back of her hand.
“I thought this was our promise every year on this day.”
Christine smiled.
When she had been forgiven by Louis, filled with a sense of liberation yet also a feeling of despair.
The man who had come to her as if he knew her heart.
Proposing first to the fiancé who had startled her by leaping onto the balcony must have been because of the alcohol.
Christine chuckled and filled the prepared glass across from her with wine.
“Yes, it is the right answer, Pierre.”
“Haha, that’s a relief. That I didn’t disappoint my beloved wife this year either.”
Christine gave him a soft glare.
It had not been a short time since she had married him.
Nevertheless, the reason her heart fluttered like this was probably because she heard the story of her innocent younger brother who had honestly waited just because he was asked to.
“Have you been waiting long, Christine?”
Christine clinked glasses with Pierre and replied, tilting her head slightly.
“Mm, quite long?”
“Hmm, that seems very wrong of me. If I’d known, I would have dumped everything on Desaix and run away immediately.”
Christine chuckled.
That would be a terrible thing to do to the person who suffers every time Pierre is away.
And...
“But it’s alright.”
The seemingly eternal winter she had faced in her hometown at eighteen.
It was so very long, so long that.
“Do you know the language of the black rose?”
Every moment walking while chipping away at her frozen heart was painful; it felt like it would last forever.
“It’s farewell.”
So painful, so agonizing.
“The black rose has another meaning, too.”
The heart she tried to carve away while deceiving herself.
“You are eternally mine.”
Forcibly digging it out, until he embraced it.
“Because it’s a wait with an end.”
The winter of Aquitaine that seemed so eternal had completely ended when she was twenty-eight.
“A toast to the knight who accepted my marriage proposal.”
“...Reminding me of the biggest mistake of my life every year shows you have bad hobbies, too.”
At Pierre's playful words as they toasted, Christine burst into laughter.
Was he so vexed that she was the one who proposed?
—I am already yours.
In truth, she, much earlier than that.
—Will you become mine as well, Lady?
The moment he asked that, her body, her heart, and even her soul had been completely captured by him.
Christine smiled at Pierre and said.
“It’s a little cold. I’ve waited long enough, shall we go inside now?”
“Haha, let’s.”
The moment Pierre naturally stood and lifted her into his arms, Christine felt something cold touch her face and looked up.
“...Oh. Is that the first snow?”
Christine smiled upon hearing the words of Pierre, who had paused and was staring blankly at the sky.
Now, Christine likes winter.
It was the season that had trapped her in guilt and responsibility.
But it was also the season that taught her she was free and loved.
“It’s beautiful. But, I think I’ll catch a cold, Pierre.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
Pierre strode into the room, laid her on the bed, and was about to get up, so Christine wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close.
“Ch-Christine. I haven’t even washed up yet—”
“But I’m cold. Warm me up, Pierre.”
“...If that is what you wish.”
Now, when the days of winter come, there is no need to tremble in the cold.
No matter how cold, she can believe winter will eventually pass and happily wait for spring.
Because you will always, always come for me.
The winter will pass, and the black rose that will bloom again.
Will whisper that you are eternally mine, and I am eternally yours.
“I love you, my Pierre.”
“I love you, my Christine.”
End.