Having withstood the first wave of the Twin Empresses' offensive, you have begun to switch from defense to attack.
You have united with Meklen, Wolner, Rudolf, and the three fence-sitter allies to announce the establishment of a permanent body aimed at 'promoting the modernization and reform of Leithanien'—the Supreme Reform Council.
This is tantamount to establishing a separate central authority outside the imperial power of Trullinczentyr, openly usurping the Empresses' rule.
Your propaganda machine is running at full throttle. The writers under Gertrude's command are working day and night.
They portray Trullinczentyr as a 'conservative, corrupt, and out-of-touch den of the old world,' while shaping your allied regions into 'the progressive, prosperous, and hopeful future of Leithanien.'
For a time, rumors of Wasser Fief's workers eating meat at every meal and children receiving free education spread faster than any royal decree.
You secretly order Taylor to have Ruperkan's border troops create several small-scale, controllable border skirmishes with Abraham Rossetti's Heidenshweir forces.
A few brief exchanges of fire, and the bodies carried back become the best material in your hands.
Your newspapers and broadcasts immediately sensationalize the other side's acts of aggression, publishing tearful accusations against the brutality of the old-guard Electors.
You yourself then personally deliver a speech, grief-strickenly accusing the Twin Empresses of 'condoning and even instigating infighting among the Electors, undermining national unity.'
Amidst a public uproar, you, in your capacity as Chairman of the Supreme Reform Council, issue a most sincere proposal to Trullinczentyr: inviting the Twin Empresses to send a plenipotentiary envoy to hold peace talks at a neutral location to jointly discuss how to 'mend the nation's fissures and restore a peaceful order'.
In the early morning in Trullinczentyr, before the thin mist had dissipated, the cries of newsboys were already ringing out.
"Extra! Extra! Heidenshweir brazenly invades, Ruperkan heroes stain the border with their blood!"
"Workers' Party leader Lacey issues peace proposal, calls on Her Majesty the Empress to stop the civil war!"
Outside a bakery, the owner, Hadek, snatched the newspaper from his assistant. On it, startling headlines and images detailed the tragic scene at the border.
Several citizens queueing for bread also gathered around, chattering amongst themselves.
"Heavens, has that Elector Abraham gone mad? To actually dare to open fire!" a coachman exclaimed.
"What do you mean, he's gone mad? I'd say it was the idea of the two up there." A thin watchmaker lowered his voice, nodding his chin in the direction of the Twin Towers.
"Didn't the papers say so? Lord Lacey's side is building roads and factories, the workers all have jobs, and life is good."
"And what about here? Taxes get heavier and heavier, and business gets harder and harder."
Hadek the owner frowned, muttering, "But that Lacey is, after all... a workers' boss. Him overthrowing the nobility, that's against the rules."
"Rules?" the watchmaker sneered.
"Are Elector Otto's rules to tax us to the bone? Is Count Dominic's rule for his son to snatch another's spot in school? And are the Empresses' rules now for the Electors to slaughter each other?"
"Hadek, do you bake your bread for the noble lords, or for those of us who can't fill our stomachs?"
"If Lord Lacey's lack of rules can let my children eat their fill, then I'd rather have that lack of rules!"
The words plunged the surroundings into silence.
Hadek opened his mouth but found himself unable to retort.
Indeed, his bakery's business was not what it used to be.
The wealthy patrons who once frequented his shop now spent their money on novel trinkets smuggled in from Elector Meklen.
Meanwhile, the pockets of the common citizens grew emptier by the day.
The scales of public opinion, swayed by the massive propaganda campaign, were visibly tipping.
...
Meanwhile, inside the Twin Towers.
The White Empress, Lizelotte, sat upon her throne, listening expressionlessly to the report from the finance minister below.
The economic sanctions had not only failed to strangle Lacey's alliance, but had instead caused the capital region's economy to stagnate first.
Meklen's caravans no longer brought luxury goods, Ziegler's fabrics had ceased to be supplied, and even some basic grains and ores had become scarce due to Wolner's defection.
The Black Empress, Herlinmarte, tapped irritably on the armrest, cutting off the minister's statement: "Enough! Get to the point! What's this about the border conflict?"
A general stepped forward and bowed, his voice strained: "Your Majesty, according to the battle report from His Excellency Abraham, it was Ruperkan's army that first crossed the boundary marker to provoke them. They were forced to retaliate..."
"Forced to retaliate?" Herlinmarte shot to her feet.
"Abraham and the other one have fifty thousand 'Imperial Order Restoration Force' troops! A forced retaliation that turned into a messy skirmish with mutual casualties?"
"And you let Lacey seize the opportunity to stir up a massive scandal?"
"A bunch of incompetents!"
Lizelotte raised a hand, silencing her sister's fury.
Her gaze fell upon the 'Peace Proposal' from Eisenwald, its humble words stinging her eyes.
"Lizelotte, do you see this? That mud-foot is humiliating us!" Herlinmarte pointed at the document.
"He manufactured the conflict and then comes running, feigning a desire for peace! He's announcing to all of Leithanien that we don't even have the ability to maintain order in the nation!"
The old-guard nobles in the court chimed in with agreement.
"Your Majesty, we must not agree! This is Lacey's trick! He's definitely stalling for time!"
"We should immediately order Abraham and Hoffmann to launch a full-scale offensive! Raze Wasser Fief to the ground in one fell swoop!"
"Yes! Let that workers' boss see who the true masters of Leithanien are!"
Lizelotte remained silent.
Her reason told her this was a trap.
Every move Lacey made was perfectly calculated to sway public opinion and score political points.
He provoked conflict, yet postured for peace; he divided the nation, yet held up the banner of unity.
If they launched an all-out war now, they might be playing right into his hands.
They would be saddled with the crime of 'instigating a civil war,' losing the people's hearts completely.
But reason, in the face of continuous setbacks and challenged authority, was being eroded bit by bit.
Ever since Lacey occupied Wasser Fief, they had been forced onto the back foot, step by step.
Their celebrated political cunning, their supreme status, all seemed so clumsy and powerless before this opponent of common birth.
He was like a master chess player, using moves they could not comprehend to force them into a corner.
Just then, an attendant hurried into the hall and presented a new piece of intelligence.
"Your Majesty, Lacey... Lacey's peace envoy has already arrived on the outskirts of the capital," the attendant's voice trembled slightly.
"Who is it?" Herlinmarte asked.
"It's... it's the... vice-chairman of the Wasser Fief Coachmen's Union... a Mister Jacques."
The entire throne room fell instantly silent.
The vice-chairman of the Coachmen's Union?
This was no longer humiliation; it was a blatant act of trampling the imperial family's dignity underfoot.
"Pfft."
A young noble couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, then frantically covered his mouth under Herlinmarte's murderous gaze.
In an instant, all color drained from Lizelotte's face, leaving it as white as her gown.
She gripped the armrest tightly.
The humble words on the proposal now transformed before her eyes into Lacey's detestable face.
How dare he?
How dare he!
The continuous pressure, the trampled authority, and this undisguised humiliation finally shattered Lizelotte's last vestiges of composure.
She slowly rose to her feet, her eyes sweeping over the faces below—some angry, some fearful, some expectant.
Lizelotte's voice was unnaturally calm: "I regret to say that perhaps my previous judgment was flawed..."
"Transmit my edict."
"Authorize the Electors of the Heidenshweir Grand Region and the Oschdenheim Grand Region, Abraham Rossetti and Hoffmann Herbert, to use any means and pay any price to eliminate the traitor Lacey!"
She paused, then added the most fatal words.
"After the fact, the Imperial House will grant its retroactive approval and provide them with absolute protection."
Everyone in the throne room gasped.
This was a direct order from the Empress to execute a legitimate Elector!
Although Her Majesty the Empress had issued the Decree of Deprivation, until Lacey was tried and convicted, his status as an Elector was still legal!
Her Majesty dared to issue an edict ordering two Electors to attack another?
This went beyond the scope of political struggle; it was a flagrant betrayal of centuries of Leithanien's laws and traditions!
But no one dared to object.
Under the Empress's cold gaze, the pro-war nobles revealed savage, excited smiles.
Herlinmarte looked at her sister, at those eyes that were once as gentle as a lamb's but now held only endless frost. She felt not the slightest unease, but rather a thrill of pleasure.
This was how they were meant to be—unfeeling authority, absolute power.
A sheet of parchment was unrolled. The scribe, with a trembling hand, recorded the edict.
Lizelotte took the seal representing imperial authority and, without the slightest hesitation, stamped it down hard.
"Thump."
________________________________________
Get rewarded for helping with our community goals!
🎯 Reward for all: +1 bonus chapter at 50 Powerstones.
🚀 Tier Reward: Help us reach 10 members for +5 chapters on all stories!
👻 Join the crew by searching Ms. Medusa on (P). You know the spot! 😉