The dazzling gold armor reflected so fiercely in the scorching sun that the Shepherdess could barely keep her eyes open.
She had no choice but to urge her flock not to get any closer to that neat formation of elves holding long blades.
But what would the silly sheep know of such things?
All they cared about was the lush grass ahead.
Only the sound of her whip and whistle kept them from advancing, and so, sluggishly, they came to a halt.
The Shepherdess gazed curiously at the unmoving elves in perfect ranks.
Were they here to fight the king?
Not until one elf—apparently their leader—gave a command did the formation break apart, and the elves began to set up camp on the spot.
Two elves put away their long blades and walked toward her.
The Shepherdess eyed them warily, wondering if she still had time to run.
One of the elves spoke in the northern human tongue: “Little girl, are you out here tending the sheep alone?”
“Yes. This is our headman’s pasture.”
Up close, the Shepherdess could finally get a good look at their armor.
It was beautiful, adorned with decorations like golden branches and jade leaves.
“Your headman must have more than one pasture. Drive your flock elsewhere—we have work to do here.”
The elf waved a hand.
With no other choice, the Shepherdess continued to swing her whip and drove the flock in the opposite direction.
Under the blazing sun, her face, clad in felt and cloth, soon broke out in beads of sweat.
She squinted and noticed several stone watchtowers the king had built across the grassland—they’d lit signal fires.
How odd.
She wondered if tonight her headman would have her and her parents pack up their tent and flee elsewhere again.
One by one, the stone watchtowers lit their beacons, stretching from the Great River Grassland all the way into the heartlands.
When the final beacon on the grassland was set alight, the snow-capped mountaintops also flared with signal fire.
As the flames climbed the chain of mountains, one fortress after another lit up.
Thus, when the citadels atop the mountains were ablaze, the capital of the kingdom—Kingdom Capital Mrozdgrad—was also alerted.
In the palace, the court attendants handed decree after decree to the Internal Affairs Cavalry.
The Internal Affairs Cavalry spurred their horses on, racing to the capital’s post station.
There, the fastest scouts and the strongest, fattest horses dashed out of the capital gates one after another, racing south along the expressway.
At every post along the way, grass was shoved into the horses’ mouths, with more stowed on their backs, while the scouts took quick sips of water before tugging the reins and continuing south.
In this way, within a single day, decrees flooded forth.
The commander of the steppe cavalry received order after order, but he still anxiously watched the camp from outside his tent.
Finally, preparations were nearly complete.
The cavalry and their attendants worked as quickly as they could, determined to set out before sunset and ride through the night to the western bank of the Great River.
There, the elves’ most elite legion had appeared: the Dawnbreaker Golden Guard.
Early that morning, Domenico, who was still at home trimming the branches of his violets, received a letter forwarded by the governor.
The first was an urgent report from the Grand Duke of Tyro: the steppe cavalry who had been stationed on the northern border of the Grand Duchy of Tyro had withdrawn overnight, leaving not a single trace behind.
There was also a state letter from the Elven Kingdom, first informing them that Queen Laroelvia had abdicated and taken the position of Regent, assisting the new queen in governing, though the new queen’s name could not yet be revealed.
Second, the elves expressed their deep concern upon learning that the kingdom had attempted to threaten the Republic, and as a show of sincere cooperation, had dispatched an army across the Great River to force the kingdom to withdraw.
He was quite satisfied—a mere afternoon of the elven army camping on the west bank of the Great River would be enough to leave King Wadiswav tossing and turning all night.
Let’s see what the northern faction, who tried to collude with the king and the prince, will say at the council now.
If the kingdom and the elves really did come to blows, so much the better.
After finishing the trimming, Domenico, as if by chance, asked his butler at his side, “The carriage sent to the Shipbuilding Bureau to fetch Julia and Miss Livyat—has it arrived yet?”
“Master, it should be here any moment.”
Domenico put down his scissors, took off his gloves, and walked to the drawing room.
He wanted to see this so-called young elven noble who had so bewitched Julia that she wanted to make her the deputy director of the Shipbuilding Bureau straight away.
If a father couldn’t notice such little things about his daughter, he’d be remiss in his duties.
After getting off the carriage, the butler led the young lady and her guest at the front.
Livyat followed nervously behind Julia—after all, it was a bit odd for Julia’s father to invite her to a private meeting at home.
What did this favorite of the governor, this councilor, this member of the Ten-Man Committee, want from her?
Julia seemed to notice Livyat’s unease and turned back to say gently, “Don’t be afraid of him. He’ll probably just talk about your appointment as deputy director. He’s a stubborn old man, but if he’s rude or harsh to you, I’ll deal with him.”
The butler brought them to the door of the drawing room and announced, “Master, the young lady and Miss Livyat have arrived.”
He then stepped aside to let them in.
Livyat entered with Julia and immediately noticed the man sitting on the central sofa—a man whose temples were flecked with gray, yet whose sharp eyes and vigorous spirit made a strong impression.
This must be Julia’s father, and he certainly looked every bit the stern patriarch.
As they entered, he stood up at once to greet them.
Approaching the sofa, Livyat gave a proper curtsey, graceful and dignified, neither servile nor arrogant.
“Lord Domenico, it’s an honor to be invited to your home and to meet you in person.”
Julia, meanwhile, plopped herself onto a side sofa and greeted her father, “Father, I’ve brought Miss Livyat.”
Domenico returned a bow, removing his hat as etiquette demanded.
“Esteemed Miss Livyat, your arrival brings honor to my humble abode. Should you be so kind as to convey my greetings to Her Majesty the Queen and the Regent, I would be most grateful.”
Livyat smiled in reply, “I will certainly do so. It’s my honor.”
Domenico gestured for her to sit first, and then took his seat as well.
“I’ve heard elven nobles are always so poised and graceful—unlike some of the noble ladies of Lantingset here, who are either too boisterous or too petty. Ha, you’ll have to forgive us.”
“Not at all. I think Miss Julia is a fine example of Lantingset nobility. I like Miss Julia very much.”
Livyat smiled as she answered.
Julia grumbled, “Father, if you have something to say, just say it already.”
With the pleasantries over, Domenico’s expression grew a little more serious.
“Miss Livyat, if your appointment as deputy director is at the request of Her Majesty the Queen or Her Highness the Regent, we have no other intentions, and will see it done.”
“But this seems to be Julia’s idea alone and hasn’t been authorized by the Queen. So I must confirm—does Her Majesty know of this? Will she be able to recognize the Republic’s absolute sincerity and concessions in this matter?”
Livyat, of course, knew this was Julia’s own idea.
As queen, she had never taken the initiative to request such an appointment.
But Julia’s goodwill and protection were precious to her.
Given that, she had only one option: “In the name of my royal bloodline, I assure you, the Queen knows of this. She approves and acknowledges the efforts of the Larguans family and fully appreciates the Republic’s sincerity and concessions. Before long, the Queen will send a formal state letter to thank the Republic for recognizing me.”
With such assurances, Domenico knew what to do.
“It will be my honor. Then, before the sun sets today, your letter of appointment as deputy director will be delivered to the Elven Consulate.”
Livyat had somehow become a representative, reaching a new agreement between elves and humans.
She rejoiced inwardly, glad she had not disappointed Julia and Tess’s expectations.
But that was not enough.
Livyat continued, “Thank you for the Republic’s trust. As a matter of diplomatic reciprocity, we welcome the Republic to send a trusted—someone you trust—to serve in the Elven Kingdom. Her Majesty the Queen and Her Highness the Regent are prepared to reserve the post of River Mouth Governor, overseeing the mouth of the Great River, for this person.”
A bombshell.
This was truly an act of absolute sincerity from the elves.
For the Republic’s fleet to control the river mouth was one thing, but for the mouth of the river itself to be administered by the Republic was quite another.
At the very least, the countless batteries along the coast would be jointly administered by elves and humans.
The elves, who had always been reserved in foreign affairs, were suddenly so enthusiastic.
More importantly, this appointee would be vetted by Domenico himself and reported directly to the governor.
This was the result of Livyat’s discussion with Tesvelan, and with the Regent’s absolute promise of support, Livyat had pondered carefully before making this proposal to Domenico.
Domenico’s wrinkled, shriveled face managed to stretch into a smile.
He even laughed heartily, something he hadn’t done in years.
“Ha ha! Wonderful! I see Her Majesty’s sincerity! Now, even the northern faction will have no excuse to accuse me of selling out the Republic’s interests! Miss Livyat, I’m truly delighted! Forgive me for being blunt, but with your wit and bearing, it’s Julia’s good fortune to be fond of you. If you ever want to whisk my daughter away, then by all means, take her.”
Eh?
“Dad, what do you mean by that!”
Julia was so startled she even forgot her honorifics.
“Are you offering your daughter for some political marriage?”
Livyat was also dumbfounded by the sudden comment, hastily replying, “I’m not in that sort of relationship with your daughter… She’s my best sister, and I like her very much…”
Her words were interrupted by Julia.
“What do you mean, ‘best sister’? Livyat, don’t tell me you only want to date elves who look young but are probably older than me, like Tesvelan?” Julia demanded.
Straight to the point, her words struck home, and the room fell silent.
It took Domenico a moment to recover and continue.
“What’s this? Julia, why is Her Highness Tesvelan involved? Are you the third wheel here?”
Domenico asked gravely.
“Of course not, Dad, I was the first to meet Livyat…”
Julia’s voice trailed off, her face reddening by the second.
The sisterly bond Livyat had so painstakingly built now seemed to crumble.
Yes, back when she was Loren Green, she’d sometimes find herself imagining things about her and Julia.
But at that time, Julia had only admired her talent, treating her strictly as a colleague.
It was only after learning Julia liked girls that Livyat realized how ridiculous her old fantasies were.
And now?
Now that she had become Livyat, it was Julia’s turn to fantasize.
In order to assert her claim, Julia was counting their acquaintance from the moment she met Loren Green—even though Loren Green was never someone she could’ve liked, being a boy.
So this was what it meant for the tables to turn.
The ancestors had not lied.
Domenico understood as well—it was most likely his daughter with an unrequited crush, and that perhaps Tesvelan’s involvement was merely a product of his daughter’s imagination.
Still, as a father, it would be unfair not to take his daughter’s side—especially as she sat there, rare for her, in a sullen silence.
Domenico cleared his throat and addressed Livyat, “Miss Livyat, ahem, perhaps it’s awkward for an old man like me to bring this up, but I must ask: please, give Julia a chance. For all these years, she’s never harbored such feelings for anyone, male or female, outside of work.”
“As her father, it pains me. So I ask—not that you agree out of pity, nor that you refuse her hastily—just let her have a chance to express her feelings. Would you?”
Looking at the lined and weathered face of the old father, Livyat fell silent, then finally flashed a spirited grin at Julia and said, “Julia, if you want to date me or something, I understand. But I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a difficult woman—it won’t be easy to win me over. Whether you succeed or not, that’s up to you.”
Julia raised her head at last, her voice trembling with both laughter and tears.
“Alright, Livyat, I’ll make sure you agree!”
Unbeknownst to them, under Domenico’s watchful eyes, Lady Julia was preparing to launch her own offensive on Her Majesty the Queen.
Meanwhile, sprawled idly across the consulate’s bed, Tesvelan muttered to herself, “Stupid queen, stupid Livyat. Why hasn’t she come back yet? She promised to move in and sleep here with me…”
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