Chapter 25
Chapter 25. A Hair’s Breadth
The red marks that had blossomed on her neck and chest remained even after two full days. With no choice but to wear a green dress that covered her neck completely, she headed to the reception room in the Empress’s Palace.
“―Here are the questions sent by the newspaper,” said Lineue, the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Diament, who had been handpicked by the Emperor to assist the Empress. Her braided brown hair and ivory eyes were familiar. Like Deron, she had proven her loyalty through the countless regressions they had endured.
“And there’s a gift from your homeland, the Veshnu Empire.”
“Who is the sender?”
“It’s from Grand Duke Aktavil. His Majesty saw it and ordered it to be discarded, but since he’s your uncle, I thought you should check it first…”
Lineue hesitated, caught between following the Emperor’s orders and considering the fact that the gift came from the former emperor of Veshnu, the Empress’s uncle. Vinea turned her head without even asking what the gift was.
“Dispose of it. Make sure it’s not diverted elsewhere.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Grand Duke Aktavil—her uncle, a man who wouldn’t hesitate to take his niece’s life for the throne. Who knew what he had done to the gift?
Upon arriving at the reception room, a nervous young man stood up abruptly and bowed deeply.
“Glory to the Empire! My name is Benson, a reporter from Tikan Newspaper.”
“Very well. Let’s talk while seated.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You wish to publish an interview with me?”
“Yes, since you are the most talked-about person in the Empire right now due to the Haksya Village incident. As the chief reporter for Tikan, the Empire’s top newspaper, I couldn’t miss this opportunity.”
“It might be better to interview the Dawn Knight Order instead.”
“Unfortunately, Malon Newspaper has already secured that interview…”
Benson sighed, clearly disappointed. Losing the interview with the Dawn Knight Order to a rival newspaper was regrettable, but hearing directly from the person at the center of the incident was invaluable.
“Still, it seems I was fortunate enough to get a chance to meet the ‘Blessed Lily’ in person.”
Meeting someone of high status was rare for a reporter, and securing this difficult opportunity had surprised even him. Benson quickly adjusted his posture and prepared his notebook and pen.
“Weren’t you afraid when you heard about the epidemic? There were casualties, after all.”
“I wasn’t afraid, though I should have taken better care of myself as the Empress. Still, even if I could go back, I would make the same choice.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because I am the Empress of Tessibania.”
It was a convincing answer. This single sentence justified all her bold actions. Had she used this rationale when accused of knowing the future and being burned at the stake, it might have saved her. She felt a useless pang of regret.
Although brief, her response left the reporter deeply moved, and he quickly took notes. His hometown was less than half a day’s journey from the epidemic site. Imagining that someone as esteemed as the Empress would visit his village in such a situation filled him with respect.
This article would likely change the minds of many who harbored resentment against the Empress from a rival nation.
After asking in detail about how she resolved the problem, Benson hesitated for a moment, then cautiously glanced at Lineue before speaking again.
“I heard that the Veshnu Empire is to blame for this incident. Are you aware of this, Your Majesty?”
The news had only reached the palace that morning. As expected of a newspaper, their information was swift. The revelation that Veshnu had buried the bodies of civilians killed by poisoned arrows without proper rites had previously intensified anti-Empress sentiments in other regressions.
Vinea nodded.
“Yes.”
“The peace agreement includes a clause not to prosecute war crimes committed during the war. Does this mean the imperial family will overlook this incident?”
“How dare you!”
Lineue quickly interrupted Benson. Following the peace agreement would make it seem like she was siding with her homeland, inviting public outrage. Addressing the issue would make it seem like the newly ascended Empress was overstepping her authority, provoking noble resistance.
Benson seemed to expect no clear answer, given his quick apology after Lineue’s intervention. Prepared for severe reprimand, he waited for Vinea’s response. Contrary to his expectations, she did not punish him.
“There is a village near the border, northeast of Veshnu, where widows gather. Most of them were pregnant women. Formed shortly after the war began, the village continued to grow until just before the war ended. Have you heard of it?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“That’s right. The Veshnu Empire ensured the village remained inconspicuous so the women could leave freely whenever they wished. They even fabricated the story that it was a refuge for war widows.”
War, widows, children, freedom to leave… Benson’s expression hardened as he connected the dots.
“Surely not…”
“Yes. They were women forcibly violated by Tessibania knights.”
Benson’s pen stopped moving.
Who were knights? They were supposed to be the noble defenders of the Empire. Even if the Veshnu army had killed the people of Haksya Village, such atrocities could happen in the chaos of war. The problem arose when these consequences continued after the war ended.
But knights raping civilians? That was different from merely being war casualties.
“May I ask why the Veshnu royal family didn’t publicize this?”
“Would you have those women face and identify their assailants?”
Vinea looked at Benson’s pale face.
While partly out of consideration for the women, it was also to keep evidence of Tessibania’s atrocities as leverage. Thus, the women had to document their experiences in detail, providing ample evidence accumulated over a hundred years.
“The border is littered with civilian corpses caught in the war. Although this incident has been revealed as the work of the Veshnu army, who’s to say the next time won’t be different?”
Surely, a similar epidemic must be brewing in Veshnu as well. Rain would erode the land, allowing the putrid blood of corpses to flow into the rivers used as drinking water by nearby villages.
Benson clenched and unclenched his sweaty hands as he stood before Vinea’s impassive face. The matter at hand was far too significant for an ordinary reporter like him to handle.
“I misspoke. I apologize for asking such a question, Your Majesty.”
“Raise your head. There will be an announcement from the royal family regarding follow-up measures in two days. It will be stated that Veshnu has acknowledged the issue, and both empires will share responsibility and cooperate.”
“Do you wish for this not to be reported? Even if we don’t cover it, other newspapers surely will.”
“Yes, regardless of how detailed the royal family’s announcement is, someone will dig into the details of our cooperation. That’s something I don’t want, and likely, none of us do.”
Even now, Tatar is probably handling the related tasks. Tessibania had unearthed a buried mistake, so Veshnu would reveal what it had hidden under its veil. After a messy balancing act, it would conclude that neither side was blameless.
Both royal families would then release a minimized version of the incident to the public under the guise of cooperation. However, if someone were to uncover the truth and spread it among the common people, the recently quelled public opinion would flare up again.
This could reignite the seeds of rebellion or even war. No sane person would want that, and neither did Benson.
“Although it’s not entirely decided yet, we plan to restore the abandoned temple near Haksya Village in collaboration with Veshnu. It will be used as a relief temple for those suffering from the aftermath of the war.”
He nodded and closed his notebook.
“In other words, you want the focus of the article to be shifted elsewhere.”
The new focus was obvious.
Benson, lost in thought for a moment, eventually reopened his notebook and started jotting something down. Then he looked up at Vinea.
“In fact, we brought an artist from our newspaper. With your permission, may we briefly draw a portrait of Your Majesty?”
With Vinea’s permission granted, the artist, who had been waiting elsewhere, entered the room. After a brief exchange with Benson, he began quickly sketching on the paper he had brought.
As the sketch neared completion, someone knocked on the reception room door. When Lineue opened it, a flustered Deron stood there.
“Your Majesty, I apologize for interrupting despite your busy schedule.”
“What is it?”
“Someone from the temple has come. It appears that you need to go there immediately.”
Deron glanced at Benson and the artist, indicating the urgency with his unusually disheveled appearance and hurried breath.
Vinea furrowed her brow slightly as she stood up.
“Does the portrait require more time?”
The artist, startled by the tense atmosphere, shook his head quickly.
“No, the necessary work is finished.”
“Let us end this session.”
Vinea swiftly left the reception room, followed closely by Deron and Lineue.
Once they were far enough from the room, Vinea asked Deron, “Where is His Majesty?”
“He is with the priests.”
After taking a moment to catch his breath, Deron continued, “…if they are still alive.”
