NOVEL NEXT 130. Need For Defenses
Marie plopped into the chair, her boots kicking absently against its legs. "So, Master!" Her voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings. "What's first on the agenda?"
Ravenna massaged her temple, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her fondness. "Must you always sound like a caffeinated songbird at dawn?"
"I learned from the best!" Marie grinned, puffing out her chest in imitation of Ravenna's more dramatic pronouncements. "The Unruly Princess herself!"
Another sighed—deeper this time, though laced with amusement. Ravenna unfurled a fresh parchment and dipped her quill. "First," she said, the nib scratching decisively against the page, "we fortify Kim Island's defenses."
"Why do we need to strengthen our defenses again?" Marie asked, shifting in her seat to better face Ravenna. "We handled those 'pirate' attacks easily enough. Are we really in danger?"
A dry chuckle escaped Ravenna's lips as she set down her quill. "That was pure luck, Marie. Lady Jessica Ronin's little revenge plot was amateurish—a child throwing stones at a fortress." She turned fully toward her disciple, her expression turning serious. "But now we're dealing with something far more dangerous."
Marie's brow furrowed as she absorbed this. "Because of the Order of Expansion..." she began slowly, recalling their previous discussions. "We can't attack any Imperial Lord's territory without being branded traitors. Any justification we give would be dismissed as mere provocation."
"Exactly," Ravenna nodded approvingly. "Which means my siblings and their supporters will use this time to build their forces while looking for ways to provoke us and attacking us first." A knowing smile played across her lips. "The first strike brings advantage. If they succeed, I'm eliminated from the succession. Even if they fail, they gain valuable intelligence about our capabilities."
Marie's fingers tightened around the armrests of her chair. "But... they'd need justification, wouldn't they?" The prospect of large-scale conflict clearly unsettled the young woman.
Ravenna couldn't contain her laughter at this. "Oh, they have justification to spare!" she managed between breaths. "The travel restrictions, the casinos, my past... transgressions." Wiping a tear from her eye, she sobered slightly. "The issue isn't finding reasons—it's their lack of preparation. They're not ready... yet."
"So we need to be ready first," Marie concluded, the realization dawning.
Ravenna's smile turned predatory. "Precisely." She gestured toward the door. "Now fetch Hughes, Alice, and Sarah. We have detailed planning to do."
Marie sprang to her feet, her earlier nervousness replaced by determined energy. "Right away, Master!"
Republic City of Otto, Southern Islands, in the Luminous Seas, off the Coast of Hilde Kingdom, Eastern Continent
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The penthouse suite of Otto's Grand Meridian Hotel offered Ethan Flask a panoramic view of the city below—a view currently marred by brooding storm clouds that mirrored the political tempest brewing across the Luminous Seas. Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows as Ethan paced the plush carpet, his polished boots sinking into the intricate patterns woven with threads of real gold.
"First scenario," he muttered, fingers tapping against his whiskey glass. "Hilde Kingdom has abandoned seven centuries of neutrality to ally with the Conley Empire." The glass met the mahogany table with a sharp clink as he considered the ramifications.
"Second option - they're simply reducing security around the free cities as a cost-cutting measure." He scoffed at his own words. "No, that's too naive. Not after maintaining this balance for generations."
The third possibility made him stop mid-stride. "Conley has infiltrated Hilde's ranks and is using Bolita as a foothold to eventually annex Otto." The implications sent a chill down his spine.
Ethan knew better than anyone the strategic importance of these free cities. Nearly 80% of the continent's flowers passed through these ports. The Hilde Kingdom had been the continent's largest flower producer for centuries, their neutral stance allowing trade to flourish.
700 years ago, to prove their commitment to peace, Hilde made the unprecedented decision not to annex Otto and Bolita despite their strategic locations. Instead, they allowed the cities to remain independent republics with no standing armies, protected by Hilde's navy in exchange for favorable trade terms. This delicate balance had maintained peace in the region for generations.
"Conley can't attack Hilde directly," Ethan reasoned aloud. "That would trigger responses from every nation, even the Western Continent powers." His fingers tightened around the curtain. "But if they can take control of Otto and Bolita through subterfuge..."
The economic implications were staggering. Whoever controlled these trade routes would hold the continent's magical supply chains hostage. Magic, it powered everything from healing potions to defensive wards.
Yet one question refused to leave Ethan's mind. Why would Hilde allow this? Their entire national identity was built on pacifism and neutrality. The free cities were their proudest achievement, proof that commerce could thrive without conquest.
As thunder rumbled in the distance, Ethan stared at the storm-darkened sea. Somewhere beneath those waves, answers might be hiding and he intended to dredge them up before it was too late.
"The geography alone makes these cities impregnable" he thought, mentally visualizing the jagged cliffs surrounding Otto's harbor and Bolita's labyrinthine canals. Once taken, no army could dislodge them.The implications were staggering, Conley would control the lifeblood of continental magic.
A cold sweat broke across his brow as the realization fully formed." And we're already at war with them... This would be the killing stroke against Ancorna."
His body moved before his thoughts fully coalesced. "I need to send a message to the imperial-" The words died in his throat as his knees buckled. The room tilted violently, his vision swimming with dark spots. The luxurious carpet rushed up to meet him as he collapsed.
"Poison" The diplomat's trained mind recognized the symptoms instantly even as his body betrayed him. The burning in his veins, the thunderous pounding of his heart, this was no ordinary toxin, but a professional's weapon. His limbs lay useless, heavy as lead, his fingers twitching futilely toward the writing desk where emergency message scrolls lay prepared.
The whiskey. His fading vision focused on the crystal decanter where he'd poured his untouched drink. The amber liquid seemed to mock him now, its surface catching flashes of lightning like some malevolent spirit laughing at his demise.
His chest constricted in one final, shuddering gasp. The last thing Ethan Flask saw was his own reflection in the poisoned bottle, eyes wide with the terrible knowledge he would never deliver.