Episode 4
My stomach churned again as I reflected on the pain that I and my people had caused on Empress Lentia of Lekeon.
I felt unexpectedly dirty. Yet, it was a separate matter from having no regrets.
“Whether it’s favor or harm, I will repay it. That’s how I—and we—have lived our entire lives. I have absolutely no regrets about raising an army according to that principle.”
Yes, there was no regret. At the same time, there was no joy. Kirta did not relish invading other countries or killing people. He simply did what he had to do as the king of his people.
Although he did not regret fulfilling his responsibilities as a monarch, his heart fluttered uncomfortably when he looked at the foreign woman sitting with her back straight across from him.
“…Certainly, the purpose of raising an army has been achieved. I have received your apology and avenged my people’s grievances. There will be no more killing. However, the original goal of my people remains unmet.”
“What does that mean?”
“Our original goal was not vengeance. Didn’t we send a delegation first? We want to interact with Lekeon. Establish formal diplomatic relations. Begin trade.”
Lentia was secretly surprised by Kirta’s refined proposal.
Even as she tried not to let unconscious bias ruin the negotiations, the thought of the nomads of the steppe as barbarians was deeply ingrained in her mind. But…
‘Diplomacy, trade. These are not concepts a savage would even begin to discuss.’
The nomads of the northeast she had encountered were vastly different from the exaggerated, embellished horror stories told in Lekeon.
‘It’s true they were the ones who sent the delegation first.’
And that delegation had been brutally murdered by soldiers of Lentia’s country.
Although Lentia loved her nation and was proud to be its empress, she could not turn a blind eye to that fact.
No—rather, because of that love and pride, she felt an even
greater obligation to confront her country’s sins.
If you truly love your people and wish to lead them down the right path, you must acknowledge their mistakes and shortcomings. Only then can you guide them toward improvement.
After all, a child raised without accountability grows into someone unworthy of love.
…His Majesty the Emperor was so kind in the old days. So cheerful.
Unbidden memories invaded her mind.
The cherished crown prince, once adored by all, had been consumed by jealousy and inferiority when his wife became more respected than he was. That jealousy twisted his once-lovely character into something unrecognizable.
Sadness welled in her chest, but Lentia quickly pushed it aside.
She focused instead on her role as empress, the one thing she had been taught to uphold her entire life.
“I will give your proposal a serious consideration,” she said evenly. “However, this is not a decision I can make alone. There
are other ministers involved in state affairs. I will call a meeting, hear their opinions, and then make a decision.”
Her tone was polite, but firm.
The apology had been made, and the matter of national interest discussed. Now, it was time to assert herself as the ruler of Lekeon.
“Just the promise of a fair review is encouraging. Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Kirta smiled softly. Lentia flinched at the sight of it.
Such a smile—it seemed almost too beautiful to belong to a man often dismissed as a barbarian.
‘If he donned court attire instead of armor, even the most discerning ladies of the Empire would be fooled.’
Lentia cut off the idle thought. This was no time for distractions.
“I would like to remain here until I receive a definitive answer,” Kirta continued.
“If it’s uncomfortable to host me and my men inside the city, we can camp outside the walls.”
“That would be better for both of us,” Lentia replied. “Please understand that admitting you as palace guests before diplomatic ties are established would be somewhat burdensome.”
“I understand, Your Majesty.”
“If diplomatic relations are established, I have one request,” Lentia added.
“Please, speak.”
“I would like to hold a memorial service for all the victims of this conflict—those who suffered from both my country’s sins and your people’s vengeance. If we are truly to establish diplomatic ties and move forward as allies, we must properly settle the grudges of the past.”
Kirta had declared that the scales of revenge were balanced, but Lentia thought otherwise.
What of those innocents who died under nomadic horses simply for being imperial citizens? What of those who took up arms to defend their homes and families?
For their sake, and for the murdered delegation that had
sparked this conflict, Lentia believed a formal conclusion was necessary—a public acknowledgment of the past to pave the way for a future.
She braced herself for resistance.
Kirta was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Lentia resisted the urge to fidget, keeping her calm demeanor intact. Yet, her lungs felt as though they were being squeezed.
Finally, Kirta spoke.
“Very well. I accept your proposal.”
Lentia exhaled, almost imperceptibly.
“Thank you, Kirta,” she said, bowing slightly with the dignity of a queen.
Kirta inclined his head in response, his expression calm but respectful.
“It seems we’ve discussed all we can for now,” he said. “We’ll retreat outside the castle and await your decision.”
“Yes, Kirta. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“We have our own supplies. But we would appreciate access to the springs and streams outside the walls.”
“Of course.”
Both knew it was safer to avoid close contact between the nomadic soldiers and the imperial citizens.
After a month of short but intense conflict, negotiations had begun. Yet, tensions still simmered.
The nomads’ grievances might have been settled, but the hatred they had sown among the imperial people was far from extinguished.
As Kirta rose to leave, he suddenly asked, “And the Emperor? Does he agree with you on these matters—diplomatic ties, the memorial service?”
Lentia remained composed despite the teasing glint in Kirta’s eyes.
“That is not for you to concern yourself with,” she replied coolly.
“If you wish,” he said lightly.
Lentia watched as he strode out of the room.
“Dangerous,” she thought.
Kirta might not be a bad person. But Lentia knew better than to mistake goodness for trustworthiness—or kindness for safety.
—
