Chapter 18: A Sister’s Treachery and Future Strategies

Three teacups were filled with steaming black tea. Butter biscuits and fried almonds, serving as refreshments, were arranged on the saucers.

“It has been three days since the palace fell,” Queen Isola murmured, lifting a teacup to her lips. “Patra, have you gathered any information? What is the current situation in Starlight City?”

“Yes, I’ve connected with a few nobles who participated in the expedition,” the Duchess replied. “They claim the Empire doesn’t intend to directly annex Starlight Kingdom. Instead, they plan to convert it to the Sacred Church of Salvation and integrate it into the Holy Alliance.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” Queen Isola stated calmly. “The Starlight Kingdom and the Empire are far too different; a hasty annexation would only ignite fiercer conflicts.”

“The Empire targeted us merely to use our lands as a springboard for conquering the Land of the Dead. They seek to devour our inherent value, and destroying us completely would only diminish that.”

“Precisely. Considering our traditions, they intend to nominate a new queen, acknowledged by the Emperor, to rule our nation, rather than having the Emperor directly crown a Starlight monarch.” Patra continued slowly. “Rumor has it the Church has even prepared a title: ‘The Holy White Queen.’ I just haven’t discovered who their chosen candidate is yet.”

“You needn’t investigate that,” Queen Isola interjected, her gaze suddenly turning sharp and cold. “I know who it is. The new queen is Nafti.”

The Duchess’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? But she’s—”

“My sister,” Queen Isola sneered, a chilling edge to her voice. “Indeed. Precisely because she is a royal, a goddess who abandoned us, and an ‘enlightened’ convert to the faith of the Supreme God, she makes a perfectly suitable first queen for the nascent ‘Holy Starlight Kingdom,’ wouldn’t you agree?”

Patra finally grasped Queen Isola’s meaning, drawing a sharp, cold breath. “Lady Nafti… she betrayed us?”

Nafti, the Princess Royal of the Starlight Kingdom, was Queen Isola’s twin sister and one of the Grand Witches consecrated by the Witch Cult.

“During that final battle, we had successfully ambushed the Saint,” Queen Isola recounted, her voice low and mournful. “Had she not defected at that critical moment, our losses wouldn’t have been so catastrophic, and I would never have been captured.”

“Perhaps, we might even have held the capital city. My foolish sister personally betrayed her own nation, and the Empire will undoubtedly grant her some recompense.”

“Such a thing actually happened…” Patra murmured, lowering her eyes in disbelief.

“I haven’t seen her since my capture, as I was brought directly to the Empire,” Queen Isola said. “Otherwise, I would have personally slain her.”

“You… you weren’t harmed, were you?” Patra asked cautiously.

She was well aware of the Inquisition’s methods; they would stop at nothing to force Queen Isola into submission.

“No, I wasn’t,” Queen Isola replied. “I was sealed by the Saint, but I managed to retain a sliver of my power, which allowed me to hold out for three full days. No one dared touch me.”

“I was on the verge of collapsing, but fortunately…” She trailed off abruptly, a sudden thought crossing her mind.

“You were rescued by this person, then?” Patra inquired, her gaze shifting to Levi with keen interest.

While they discussed the Starlight Kingdom’s predicament, the Queen’s savior was engrossed in continuously shoveling refreshments into her mouth.

Noticing both their gazes fixed upon her, Levi abruptly paused, her cheeks still comically puffed out with food.

The moment grew somewhat awkward. Levi reached for a teacup, took a large gulp to clear her mouth, then wiped the corner of her lips with her thumb.

“My apologies,” Levi said with an apologetic smile. “I was simply ravenous; I hadn’t eaten anything for almost two days.”

“If you had mentioned it earlier, I would have arranged for some food,” Queen Isola remarked, a hint of embarrassment in her tone.

From their escape from the dungeon to their arrival here, half a day had passed, yet she hadn’t noticed Levi’s famished state.

“We were fleeing for our lives at the time, after all,” Levi said, understandingly.

“Please forgive me, Your Majesty has already begun to manifest immortal divinity, meaning her needs for food and sleep are far less than an ordinary person’s. Thus, it slipped my mind.” The Duchess offered a polite smile to Levi. “I’ve already instructed the kitchen staff to prepare dinner; please wait a moment. So then, Levi… sir?”

“Just Levi is fine,” she corrected. “Having become a witch, I can’t really bother with gender anymore.”

“Levi, could you please tell me how you rescued Her Majesty?” the Duchess asked, her eyes narrowing. “According to the Queen, her powers were largely sealed by the Saint, and she was heavily guarded by Imperial forces. Even I couldn’t conceive of a rescue.”

“Forgive my frankness, but you don’t appear to be someone with such capabilities.”

Levi glanced at Queen Isola. On their journey, Queen Isola had inquired about the means of her rescue, and Levi had answered truthfully, as the Mad Hatter had never requested secrecy from her.

Queen Isola sighed softly, then spoke. “Tell her.”

Levi turned to the Duchess and briefly recounted her experiences after entering the dungeon.

“Demons… the mark of a sacrifice…” After listening, the Duchess mused aloud. “Fascinating. It seems the Abyssal Cult, worshipped by the Redlanders, holds a path yet unknown to us. This would explain the Church’s vehement suppression of them.”

“Could it be the path opposing the ‘Bishop’?” Queen Isola asked.

“Highly likely,” the Duchess affirmed. “However, all we can confirm right now is that there are still powerful individuals among the Redlanders who command this path. The man who calls himself ‘Mad Hatter’ must hold a significant rank, and it seems he has some powerful backing.”

“Whether they can become an asset to us, however, remains to be seen.”

“An asset?” Queen Isola questioned, realizing the Duchess seemed to have an idea.

“Your Majesty, I have been contemplating how we might contend with the Empire in the future,” the Duchess began. “Forgive my bluntness, but this war has proven the vast disparity in national strength between Starlight and the Empire—a gap that cannot be bridged by mere strategy.”

“A single Saint, leading fifty thousand allied troops, shattered our capital. This force is merely the tip of the Empire’s immense power; we must consider seeking support from other external forces.”

“Are you suggesting we cling to survival by relying on the Land of the Dead, like the Moon Kingdom?” Queen Isola asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Not necessarily only the Land of the Dead, Your Majesty. Since infiltrating this country, I’ve uncovered numerous issues. The Redlanders and barbarians, enslaved and oppressed by the Empire, are constantly restless, and even within the Holy Alliance, unity is not absolute.”

“This nation is like a splendid brocade robe, vibrant on the outside, but its lining has long been riddled with holes by worms. If we can skillfully exploit these contradictions, we might yet have a chance to topple this monstrously powerful nation.” the Duchess stated earnestly.

The Duchess’s analysis caused Queen Isola’s eyes to brighten for a fleeting moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “However, these are not matters we can consider right now.”

The Duchess and Queen Isola exchanged a silent glance. When Queen Isola was still a princess, the Duchess had served as her tutor. After Queen Isola’s coronation, she remained the Red Queen’s most trusted confidante.

Years of working together had forged a profound understanding between them; with just a single exchange of glances, they read the same word in each other’s eyes: “Restoration.”

This was the crucial first step they had to take. Without reclaiming their power, they could not negotiate as equals with other factions.