Queen of Revenge - Chapter 27

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 27
While Iolet warmed herself by the fireplace, documents accumulated in the Commander’s Office.
Iolet sifted through the haphazardly organized papers.
‘I didn’t expect a warm welcome, but being openly ignored would be problematic.’
There had to be gaps somewhere.
Given the garrison’s atmosphere and the region’s distance from royal authority, the Border Guard’s administrative work couldn’t possibly be flawless.
Indeed, it wasn’t long before Iolet discovered something amiss.
“Where is the casualty list? The combat records?”
This border region saw constant skirmishes with the Demon Tribe. Casualties occurred by the dozens each day.
Yet the documents were missing the casualty lists entirely. The records of battles with the Demon Tribe were equally sparse.
The Commander-in-Chief hesitated, apparently not expecting such scrutiny.
“It appears some documents are missing. I’ll retrieve them.”
The three years’ worth of casualty lists he brought back amounted to a single page. Devastatingly few.
“We send Guerrilla Forces on expeditions every fortnight, yet the casualties amount to this?”
Deaths that had reached roughly a hundred monthly five years ago had plummeted dramatically two years prior, dropping to merely two per month.
Last year it rose to four monthly, and this year to eight.
Even combining all three years didn’t reach a hundred—Kairon’s Northern Fortress lost that many in a single day, or so I’d heard.
“Your soldiers must possess exceptional skill and cohesion. Low casualties are certainly cause for celebration. Mother would commend you greatly if I reported this.”
“That won’t be necessary. The regions where Guerrilla Forces operate are safe zones with no direct confrontation with the Demon Tribe.”
“Is that so?”
Iolet fixed the Commander with a skeptical gaze.
‘If the garrison were truly stable, the soldiers wouldn’t display such poor discipline. And casualties increasing by exactly the square each year—that’s suspicious too.’
“Have you never directly faced the enemy?”
“We’ve attempted contact with the Demon Tribe to minimize casualties, but as you can see, the results have been underwhelming.”
“I see.”
“Surely that satisfies your curiosity. Do you require further accommodations?”
The Commander-in-Chief brazenly retrieved the documents from Iolet’s hands—a clear dismissal.
“Beyond this point lies military intelligence. Those without authorization cannot access such materials.”
“You seem to be laboring under a misunderstanding, Commander.”
Iolet pressed her palm firmly against the casualty list the Commander-in-Chief was attempting to take.
“I exercise legitimate authority delegated by the King. Since my arrival, contact with the Demon Tribe is no longer the Border Guard’s exclusive prerogative.”
“I don’t follow your meaning. According to royal decree, the Princess holds no military command authority.”
“Yet you just admitted it yourself—that you’ve attempted negotiations with the Demon Tribe.”
“That’s why—ah—”
The Commander-in-Chief’s breath caught as the blind spot crystallized in his mind. The Princess’s gaze pierced him like an awl.
“From that moment onward, contact with the Demon Tribe becomes a matter of diplomacy. And all non-military operations accompanying diplomatic negotiations fall under my jurisdiction.”
At the Northern Border, the objects of negotiation extended beyond Kalande alone.
Though lacking the formal structure of a nation, external forces existed that formed cohesive societies with their own social order.
Because they were not human, they had been overlooked as diplomatic entities—yet they were undeniably beings with whom negotiation was possible.
‘Did they think I claimed this authority without purpose?’
Both the Commander-in-Chief and Lucian struggled to find words, but Iolet smiled softly.
She, who had forcefully seized the casualty list, flicked her index finger toward the remaining documents held in the Commander-in-Chief’s hands.
“Hand them over. Those are my documents.”
“….”
“You won’t?”
Her tone and demeanor were decidedly unruly.
Chagrin flickered across the Commander-in-Chief’s face.
“What exactly do you wish, Your Highness? The Border Guard has operated without incident until now.”
“That’s for me to judge. Guerrilla Operations are suspended until I give my approval. We’ve even made peace with Kalande—there’s no need to incur casualties unnecessarily.”
“But you haven’t yet formally concluded a betrothal with Commander Winterbark. Until then, we must maintain existing operations.”
“The situation guarantees casualties. Is there truly a reason Guerrilla Operations must be dispatched regularly?”
“…The Demon Tribe.”
There was a subtle pause in his response.
Iolet detected the fleeting hesitation woven through the Commander’s words.
“They are capricious creatures. Even without the purpose of deliberately provoking them, reconnaissance missions are unavoidable to monitor their movements and devise countermeasures.”
“Then from the next Guerrilla Operations onward, I shall manage everything myself. Personnel, roster, duration, operational details—all of it.”
“That is…!”
The Commander raised his voice for the first time.
Iolet continued without acknowledging his outburst.
“Of course, I don’t intend to dismiss your efforts in leading the Garrison thus far. So the broad framework of operations will remain unchanged, but I shall accompany the next dispatch myself.”
“…!”
“It’s hardly a dangerous operation, so you have no objections, I trust?”
A heavy silence descended upon the Commander’s Office.
When no rebuttal came even after a long wait, victory belonged to Iolet.
* * *
After the meeting with the Commander-in-Chief concluded, Iolet gathered all necessary documents and moved to the Quarters where she would be staying.
The chamber she arrived at differed little from her bedroom in the Royal Palace Tower.
The fireplace, grown cold and lifeless, and the stone walls, seeping with chill, were remarkably similar. The only difference was that the bedding and blankets were considerably thicker, befitting the Northern Region.
Judging by the conduct of the soldiers and the Commander-in-Chief, I hadn’t expected much.
“Hmm, it’s rather cozy. *cough*.”
“….”
“I should light a fire. The fireplace seems larger here too.”
Lucian, who had been standing rigidly at the door, turned without a word.
Iolet quickly caught hold of his sleeve.
“Where are you going, Lucian?”
“There must be a better chamber. I shall request the Commander to change your quarters.”
“Enough. Why invite unnecessary criticism? In a few days it will change anyway—until then you’ll manage.”
“Do I appear to be doing this for my own discomfort, Your Highness?”
Another cough seized Iolet, leaving Lucian unable to continue.
Bara, who had already dashed outside, returned carrying an armful of firewood from somewhere.
Bara dumped an armful of firewood before the fireplace and flicked a card toward Lucian.
[
Light the fire, Elovis’s dog.
]
The word cards that had once contained only simple phrases had evolved into full sentences.
What had been merely a dozen or so cards in Bara’s collection had now doubled in number. The hastily scrawled handwriting slanting sideways belonged to Kairon.
Lucian’s jaw clenched tight.
“Guard those cards well. There’s always the option of burning them without a soul knowing.”
[
Light the fire, Elovis’s dog.
]
[
Dog
] [
Dog
] [
Dog
]
“….”
Before long, flames crackled to life with a soft snapping sound.
“Thank you, Bara. Would you fetch water for my bath now?”
[Yes, Your Highness!]
Bara bounded out with puppy-like enthusiasm after receiving Iolet’s affectionate pat, not forgetting to flash her teeth at Lucian in mockery.
Iolet let out a soft laugh and unfastened the clasp of her cloak.
“Of course, I’m grateful to you as well, Lord Lucian. The Northern Region must be unfamiliar to you too.”
“I’m merely fulfilling my duties.”
Lucian accepted her cloak and replied curtly.
Iolet, shivering from the cold, quickly crouched before the fireplace. As the intense warmth enveloped her and she opened her mouth, her throat felt parched and raw.
“Today, well, today I have no intention of leaving this chamber, so rest now, Lord Lucian. The Commander wouldn’t neglect you.”
Lucian was tossing aside the cloak bearing the Winterbark insignia and reaching for the blanket draped across the bed when—
“Sitting too close to the fire will harm your throat.”
“…!”
Iolet gasped as a warm blanket enveloped her. Then strong arms slipped beneath her waist and knees, and her body lifted effortlessly into the air.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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