Chapter 22: Reflections

“Your Highness, the envoys from the Kingdom of Attica and the Kingdom of Knoso have arrived. They are waiting in the reception hall now,” the servant entered quietly, seemingly sensing his master’s bad mood and speaking as softly as possible.
“I know. Ask them to wait in the reception hall.”
“Understood, Your Highness.” The servant bowed and prepared to leave.
“Has Palermo not returned yet?”
“Your Highness, Mr. Palermo has not returned yet.” A flash of surprise passed through the servant’s eyes. This was already the third time in two days that the princess had inquired about Mr. Palermo’s whereabouts. It was unclear what task he was assigned that made the princess so concerned.
“Hmm. Notify me immediately once he returns.” Kakiya rested her hand on her forehead, tired. She had to deal with these annoying matters almost every day, with not a single thing pleasant or exciting. Was such a life as a ruler really worth envying or striving for?
Ever since she began dealing with the Northern Alliance, Kakiya had never known peace again. The people of Attica and Knoso acted in tandem, putting on shows for her, while the Light Church took the opportunity to make a bunch of unrealistic demands. It seemed as though Katin was just a fruit platter on the table, to be arranged however they wished. Sometimes they demanded the opening of border ports and lower tariffs; other times, they wanted to station troops in Nicosia for a long time, or even hand over two important fortresses on the western border to the Northern Alliance’s control. Sometimes they claimed a lack of military funds and asked for loans, while other times they wanted their people to serve as political advisors to guide foreign policy. Kakiya couldn’t understand how these people could come up with so many ways to torment her. If rewards were to be given, it could wait until Komer was dealt with—why bring up these demands now, trying to embarrass and hinder her?
Logically, the people of Attica and Knoso weren’t ignorant of what was right and wrong. It seemed they were recklessly pursuing their interests without regard for consequences. Such actions would only stir up resentment among the people in their own territories and accelerate their own downfall. Didn’t they realize they were killing the goose that laid the golden eggs?

Unless they truly knew the chicken didn’t belong to them and had no way of obtaining it, they might try to secure some practical benefits—getting a few more eggs or pieces of meat, anything they could before the chicken was lost. If that was really their mindset, then they were truly pitiful, Kakiya thought gloomily. In these people’s eyes, she was nothing but a chicken, forced to watch them fight over her, to see which one would end up with her. What was the point of all her hard work and struggle then?

It was only then that Kakiya realized how vulnerable she was without a strong, loyal military force. Anyone could threaten her, and even the slightest provocation could make her nervous. How exciting it would be to have her own armed forces! Unfortunately, it seemed too late to realize this now.

The members of the Light Church were full of empty promises. Kakiya had long seen through them—they would only side with the stronger ones. Even forces like the Caucasus, who had openly declared hostility, didn’t dare to challenge them. And what about Katyn? Looking at their despicable behavior, they were nothing but accomplices of the Northern Alliance, with nothing commendable about them.

At these thoughts, Kakiya felt overwhelmed with despair. Why wasn’t there a single person among those dealing with her who truly wanted to help her? Why were they all just trying to profit from her? Then there was Komer—whether it was the half-orcs, the barbarians, or those merchants, they all seemed to obey him obediently, working hard for him. Could it really be that Komer’s charisma was so great that they willingly submitted to him? Kakiya didn’t believe that at all.

The nobles in the region were already showing signs of instability, especially after she ceded to pressure from the Northern Alliance and lowered customs duties at the border crossings. The merchants were outraged, and the nobles were dissatisfied with her decision to strengthen religious control within their territories in response to the Light Church. Financially, things were in dire straits. To be precise, if it weren’t for Palermo scrambling to make up the shortfall, they would have gone bankrupt long ago. But how much longer could this situation last?

Kakuya was extremely distressed. There were solutions, after all—if the Northern Alliance could truly unite and launch an attack on Gothenburg, capturing it and the surrounding areas, her territory could be connected to Zelin’s. Given Zelin’s current situation, she believed he would definitely agree to cooperate with her, which could greatly improve the situation. But…

At this thought, Kakuya couldn’t help but sigh deeply. It seemed the guys in the Northern Alliance had no intention of confronting Komer head-on, at least not for now, while she was on the verge of collapsing.

The development in Komer’s controlled areas also made Kakuya quite envious. Both Poznan and Homer showed signs of rapid growth, especially Odessa and Groningen—two port cities so prosperous that everyone envied them. These two cities monopolized 60% of trade between the northern region of the Blue Continent and the Misty Continent, generating enough tax revenue for Komer’s territory to support a much larger army.

Sometimes, Kakuya would reflect on herself. If she were in Komer’s shoes, could she do as well? The answer was unclear. Back in the Caucasus at the beginning, she thought she couldn’t perform as brilliantly as Komer. She might not have had the courage to confront Homer, nor to use the power of half-orcs and barbarians to defeat Philip. As for the later stages—governing Poznan, Silesia, and Homer—Kakuya was confident that with her charm and network, she could do better than Komer.

But reality had no “what ifs.” She could never reach Komer’s level, never become a minor lord of a remote territory, never face so many difficulties and hardships, and thus never achieve Komer’s status. Was this a blessing or a tragedy for her?