Chapter 12: Civil War Era - The Plague
After an unusually cold winter, full-blown spring had arrived in the Duke’s living room.
Christine, as always, lifted her cup with an elegant gesture to savor her coffee, then slowly set it down.
I glanced briefly at the silver teaspoon she had used to stir her coffee before speaking.
“Your complexion looks better, Christine. I’m glad to see that.”
Her deep, dark eyes fixed intently on me.
After a moment of silence, Christine replied with a hint of vulnerability, managing a slight smile.
“Thanks to you, Pierre.”
The last time we met was at the funeral of the former Count of Aquitaine.
Though she had physically secured the Countship without much harm, emotionally, it was as if she had lost her entire family in an instant, compounded by betrayal.
The decision to spare the son of the Countess, who had committed treason against her house, was undoubtedly a heavy burden for her.
Yet, she had managed the funeral with composure and grace, effectively stabilizing the turbulent atmosphere in Aquitaine caused by the scandal and the Count’s death.
While I felt fortunate that she, my ally, was such a person, as the instigator of her involvement, I couldn’t help but feel a complex mix of emotions.
All I could do was ensure that she, having joined forces with me, would be safe in the upcoming turmoil.
Christine took another leisurely sip of her coffee before speaking.
“As you requested, I’ve been gathering information about the northern regions through the trading guilds.”
“How is the situation there?”
“As you can imagine, it’s quite unsettled. The lords are running out of resources, so they’re selling tax rights to the lower nobility and wealthy classes or borrowing money. Those who buy these rights are exploiting the commoners even more harshly to make a profit. And in the north, there’s been record cold, ruining the harvest. There have already been several peasant uprisings.”
The signs of revolution are unmistakably drawing near.
Though Francia was typically known for its warm climate and fertile land, this winter brought frequent snowfalls and lingering cold well into spring.
Amidst this, the lords were too busy plundering each other’s lands, so a food shortage was inevitable.
“Moreover, near the front lines, the armies of the First and Second Princes are wandering around, besieging cities and extorting money under various pretexts. The cities, having spent a fortune to buy tax or autonomy rights, are now under pressure to pay taxes at the drop of a hat. If they refuse, they face military intimidation. Discontent is skyrocketing.”
After saying this, Christine sighed softly and then asked me a question.
“Clearly, as you said, the kingdom seems to have reached its limit. But even so, how long can the commoners last in a rebellion against the overwhelming might of the royal army? I’m a bit skeptical about that.”
Everyone had thought that way.
But the upcoming plague would be as devastating as the long-forgotten Black Death that once terrorized the continent.
“Well, honestly, looking at what’s happening in this kingdom, it almost feels like divine intervention aiming for its downfall.”
The plague hit hardest in the north, where the armies were heavily stationed, and the First Prince died from it.
Even the renowned ‘Blue Knight’ Duke met a miserable end not as a hero in battle, but as a victim of the plague.
“Um, Pierre. When you say it, it somehow feels even more ominous, you know?”
Christine narrowed her eyes at me, and I just laughed it off.
“Haha, sorry about that.”
But with the memories from before my regression, it goes beyond mere ominousness.
After the death of the First Prince, his surviving followers begged for mercy from the Second Prince, but his faction, having squeezed everything dry to its limits, only thought of exploiting any scapegoats to recoup their losses.
Thus, the remnants of the First Prince’s faction, now leaderless, were pushed south and clashed again with the Second Prince’s faction. Amidst this, a revolution erupted in the north, with the already battered armies exhausting each other.
Even then, the Second Prince’s faction, underestimating the situation, suffered several defeats to the revolutionaries until they finally came to their senses and reached out to the remnants of the First Prince’s faction.
In the aftermath of the First Prince’s faction’s collapse, I was absorbed into the royal army, now fighting under the newly enthroned Second Prince, King Louis, against the revolutionary forces.
And then he appeared.
“...You haven’t found him?”
“Him? Oh, you mean Raphael Ballian.”
Christine blinked and then nodded.
“Yes. Honestly, there’s too little to go on. A city-born military man named Raphael, that’s all we have. With just that, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack in the Kingdom of Francia.”
“I had thought he might have already made a name for himself...”
I couldn’t help but smirk bitterly.
He was remarkably young when he took over as the revolutionary army’s commander. It wouldn’t be surprising if he hasn’t emerged yet.
Despite the outbreak of the revolution, the royal army was objectively stronger. The fact that the revolutionaries eventually gained the upper hand was entirely due to his efforts.
I wished I could have established a connection with him earlier, or even secured him, but the information was too scant.
“We’ll keep looking. But frankly, if he’s from the north, I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Even as powerful as the Aquitaine trading guilds are, we can’t step into the main battleground where the First and Second Princes’ factions are constantly clashing.”
“Your efforts are appreciated nonetheless.”
“And since we’re allies, albeit secretly, I’ll let you in on something. Both the First and Second Princes’ factions have shown a lot of interest in me.”
“...I can imagine.”
The Count of Aquitaine had maintained neutrality, not siding with either prince, but had been implicitly supporting the First Prince as an ally of the Lafayette Dukedom.
However, with my engagement to Christine dissolved and the Countship under new management, it wasn’t surprising that both sides eyed Aquitaine.
Moreover, Christine was young, attractive, wealthy, and an unmarried countess. The only other heir in her family was a half-brother, who was likely out of favor.
As a marriage prospect, she would be highly sought after.
“There have been quite a few decent marriage proposals.”
After making this remark, she slowly picked up a cookie, deliberately taking her time to eat it.
I watched her actions and waited until she swallowed the cookie before responding casually.
“Is that so?”
Christine chuckled at my response.
“You’re no fun, my ex-fiancé. I thought you’d be a bit more interested than that.”
“I assumed you wouldn’t be too thrilled about it, knowing you.”
Christine burst into laughter at my reply.
“Of course, I have no intention of marrying right away. They’re just opportunists preying on Aquitaine under the guise of consoling me for my tragic loss. And then...”
She paused, her expression turning somewhat sad.
She didn’t add anything else, but I had a pretty good idea what she was implying.
Anyone who became Christine’s husband would likely first try to eliminate her younger brother.
“Oh, right.”
Christine quickly regained her composure and clapped her hands lightly.
“A book called ‘The Doctrine of Estates’ is becoming popular in the north. It criticizes the lack of legitimate rights for commoners compared to clergy and nobility. Could this be related to what you mentioned?”
Hearing this, I couldn’t help but frown.
“‘The Doctrine of Estates’?”
“Hmm, seems like you don’t know everything, Young Duke.”
“Of course not. Could you possibly get a copy of that book for me?”
“Absolutely. I’ll find one for you.”
Although Christine readily agreed, I couldn’t shake off a sense of unease.
Then, there was a knock at the door.
“Excuse the interruption, Young Duke. There’s urgent news from the north.”
“Sorry, Christine.”
“No problem. I’m curious about the news myself.”
“Come in.”
Baron Dumont entered, bowed to both of us, and handed me the letter.
The letter was straightforward.
It reported a deadly plague breaking out in the north, rapidly spreading.
I relayed this to Christine, and she raised her eyebrows upon hearing it.
Whether it was relief that an event I knew of was unfolding as expected, or worry about the horrific aftermath this event could bring, even I couldn’t tell.
A sigh escaped me involuntarily.
“...We’re all going to be busy now.”
***
“Close the city gates!”
“Close the gates!”
I watched from horseback as Toulouse, the capital of the Duke’s domain, was put under lockdown.
Inside the city, administrators, their mouths covered with white cloth, went from house to house instructing the commoners to stay indoors and boil their water before drinking.
I turned my horse around and started heading towards the Duke’s residence.
The sudden news of the plague and the ensuing bustle in the city had the residents looking understandably uneasy.
Still, the situation was much better compared to before my regression.
This time, I knew about the plague in advance, and unlike the former Count of Aquitaine who only nominally allied, I had Christine, who provided the necessary supplies.
Thanks to the profits from raw materials traded with Abyss Corporation, we had a decent stock of medicines, and enough food stored to prevent starvation during the lockdown.
It took time to distribute similar instructions and supplies to each village in the Duke’s domain, but fortunately, it seems we managed it just in time.
The situation in the north, where troops had been stationed long-term in poor sanitary conditions, was incomparably worse, having faced the plague in a crowded, unprepared state.
Yet, I couldn’t shake off a sense of foreboding.
The book ‘The Doctrine of Estates’ mentioned by Christine was unknown to me before my regression.
There had been a trend for a book about the ‘Third Estate’, which represented the commoners, but that only appeared after the First Prince died from the plague, and the Second Prince, now King Louis, summoned the Estates-General to ignore or feign addressing the commoners’ grievances.
While the content seemed similar to Christine’s description, the timing and the existence of ‘The Doctrine of Estates’ itself gave me an unsettling feeling.
Could the actions I’ve taken since my regression have hastened the publication of the book? There doesn’t seem to be a clear cause-and-effect relationship to point to that.
Dismounting my horse and handing it over to the stable keeper, I entered the mansion, but my thoughts were swirling incessantly.
Optimistically, the book ‘The Doctrine of Estates’ might have been popular anyway, and I, secluding myself in the mansion, simply hadn’t been aware of it.
Considering it’s not the kind of material to circulate widely among the nobility, it’s more convenient to think that way...
However, the attempt to poison Christine still happened.
The outbreak of the plague also occurred as before.
But can I be certain that, this time too, the First Prince and the Duke will fall victim to the plague?
Entering my office, I recalled the time hearing about the Duke’s death, not as a warrior in battle but from the plague. It wasn’t a feeling of joy or sorrow, but rather one of emptiness.
The man who looked down on me with disdain and was so intoxicated with his own greatness was, in the end, as vulnerable as a candle in the wind against fate. It was a bitterly hollow realization.
Thus, I had thought the Duke’s death was an inevitable event.
But Christine, who was destined to die, is still alive.
If either the First Prince or the Duke survives, or conversely, if the Second Prince dies, the future could significantly deviate from what I know.
I bit my lip involuntarily.
Now, with the plague spreading, news from the north will be unreachable.
And getting a copy of ‘The Doctrine of Estates’ mentioned by Christine to verify if it’s the same book that was popular before my return will be impossible as long as the lockdown continues.
I suppose the outcome after the plague subsides is something I must leave to a higher power.
Swallowing a sense of helplessness, I entered my office and noticed a pigeon at the window.
A courier pigeon, the one I had entrusted to Christine, its leg tied with a message.
Even in a lockdown, pigeons were a way to receive news, but they had their limits.
They could only return to familiar locations, so once sent out during a lockdown, that was it.
And if Christine had gone to the trouble of sending a message in these circumstances, it must be crucial.
I hurriedly unfolded the message brought by the pigeon.
[To Young Duke Pierre de Lafayette,
I was fortunate. The trading guild had halted operations due to the lockdown, but a returning merchant ship brought news.
Near Montpellier, in the southeast of the kingdom, there’s talk of a veiled woman and a man, seemingly her guard, going around treating the sick.
I hope this is the news you were hoping for, and I pray for your well-being and that of the Lafayette family.
Sincerely,
Christine De Aquitaine.]
I clenched my fist.
I had found her.
The princess, missing from the capital since the start of the civil war, had become revered as a saint. While the clergy of the Holy Church and the kingdom’s priests safeguarded themselves and ignored those dying of the plague, she was personally treating the sick and performing miracles.
Yet, in the end, she was condemned as a witch by the very same Holy Church and those who had once praised her.
That was the missing princess.
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