Chapter 30: The Mandate of the Mourning Queen
The air inside the command tent was thick with the smell of wet canvas and the low, rhythmic hum of the System interface. It had been months since a quest window had appeared before Julian—so long that he had almost forgotten the sarcastic chime that accompanied his "reborn life."
[System Notification: Main Quest—Legacy of the Fallen Sun.]
[Objective: Consolidate the 'Sorrow of the Queen'. Secure the emotional and political dependency of Queen Eleonora di Salerno.]
[Warning: In the original dating sim, Eleonora was a 'Locked Heroine'—available only to those with Royal Blood. Since you are but a 'Paper Viscount,' your only path is the Architecture of Comfort.]
[Reward: Relic-Grade Equipment — 'The Mantle of the Sea-King' (High-Tier Water Magic Augment).]
'Make a grieving widow fall in love with me?' Julian thought, a grimace flickering across his face. 'System, that's a low blow even for a dating sim.'
[System Analysis: Moral qualms detected. Suppressing... Look at the board, Julian. If you want leverage over Naples and not a Spanish executioner's sword in your neck, you need her heart. Remarriage isn't a scandal; it's a treaty. Do you want to be a hero, or do you want to survive?']
Julian took a steadying breath. "I win, you win. Fine."
The Chessboard of Custody
Before stepping into the Queen's presence, Julian found Emilia in the solar of the command post. He didn't hide the situation.
"I have custody of the Royal Family," Julian said, his voice level. "But Albrecht is going to try and take them. A Prince of Bohemia holding the Queen of Naples is a political nightmare for us."
Emilia's eyes sharpened. She understood the game instantly. "You want my father to intervene?"
"Immediately. Tell Duke Schwarzberg to send a letter to the Pope. State that the Queen specifically requested my protection because she trusts the husband of a Schwarzberg more than a glory-seeking Bohemian. Then, have him tell the Emperor that giving custody to a 'nobody' like me prevents Albrecht from becoming too powerful. The Emperor hates a rival—he'll choose the 'safe' lieutenant over the ambitious prince every time."
Emilia looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, a faint, proud smile on her lips. "I'll write the dispatch. But remember, Julian... she is a Queen. Don't let the 'comfort' go to your head."
The Tent of the Fallen Sun
Julian entered the Queen's tent with a tray—hot coffee, a fresh towel, and none of the grandiosity of a victor. Queen Eleonora was slumped in a chair, her silver-blonde hair damp from the sea spray, her eyes red-rimmed from sobbing.
"Your Highness," Julian said softly. He signaled for the maidservant to help her wash and change.
When the Queen had regained some semblance of composure, Julian sat across from her, offering the coffee. "The King sacrificed himself for the Prince's safety. And for yours. He died a Pillar of the Kingdom. To let yourself wither away in this tent would be to tell him his sacrifice was for nothing."
Eleonora looked up, her voice trembling. "Our marriage was political... but he was a man of honor. He treated me with such respect. He told me children would come later, when the war was won. Now... there is no later."
"Then you must be the 'later' for Prince Matteo," Julian said. He didn't reach for her hand; he didn't exploit her weakness. He spoke with the calm authority of a man who understood the weight of a name. "I am not saying you don't have the right to cry. You have every right. But for the nation, and for that boy out there who looks at you for hope, you must be a Queen again."
Eleonora paused, the steam from the coffee rising between them. She looked at Julian—not as a soldier, but as a man who wasn't trying to use her title as a ladder. For the first time in weeks, she felt a flicker of genuine safety.
"Your Highness," Julian continued, "The Prince of Bohemia will soon demand your custody. He will use you as a trophy for the Diet. If you stay with me, you remain under the protection of House Andechs and House Schwarzberg. We have no interest in German court politics. We only want your safety."
"I... I would prefer to stay with you, Viscount," she whispered. "I don't want to be a pawn in Bohemia's games."
[System Notification: Trust Established.]
* Queen Eleonora Favorability: +10 (Trust/Reliability).
* Status: 'The Queen's Choice' secured.
The Clash of the High Nobles
Two days passed. The tension in the camp reached a breaking point when Prince Albrecht von Luxembourg forced his way past Julian's guards. He strode toward the royal tent, his golden armor gleaming.
"I am taking custody of the Neapolitan royals," Albrecht announced to Arch-Marshal Conrad. "Bohemia has the resources to host a Queen. A mere Lieutenant does not."
"Is that so?" Julian stepped out from the shadows of the tent, his hand resting casually on his sword.
"Step aside, Julian," Albrecht sneered. "Know your place. You've played nursemaid long enough."
Arch-Marshal Conrad stepped between them, his face a mask of granite. "Actually, Prince, you're the one who needs to know your place. We are in a theater of war, not here to farm glory or collect trophies. I am your superior, and I say the custody remains where it is."
"You would dare—" Albrecht began, his face flushing with rage.
"I don't have to," Conrad interrupted, as two messengers on horseback galloped into the clearing. One bore the seal of the Pope, the other the golden eagle of the Emperor.
The letters were read aloud. The Pope, citing the Queen's personal request and her comfort with House Schwarzberg, granted custody to the son-in-law of the Duke. The Emperor, wary of Bohemia's rising influence, confirmed the order. The Royal Family was to be transferred to Julian's family fortress—Castello di San Vigilio.
Albrecht stood frozen, the humiliation burning in his eyes. He had been beaten not by a sword, but by a paper-trail he hadn't even seen coming. He cast a look of pure, unadulterated loathing at Julian.
"This isn't over, Viscount," Albrecht hissed, his voice low enough only for Julian to hear. "The frontier is a dangerous place. People disappear in the smoke of war."
"I'll keep that in mind, My Prince," Julian replied with a shallow bow. "Safe travels to the front line. I hear the Spanish are looking for a 'Hero' to kill."
As the Prince stormed off, Julian felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Isabella.
"You've just made a permanent enemy of the future King of Bohemia," she whispered, her cat-like eyes glinting.
"I know," Julian watched the Queen and the young Prince being prepared for the journey back to his home. "But I've also just secured the future of the South. I'd say the trade-off is worth it."
To be continued...