Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter: Volume 8 (eBook)

Riku Nanano (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023
250 Seiten
J-Novel Club (Verlag)
978-1-7183-8612-9 (ISBN)

Infos

All paths converge on the eastern capital. With the frontiers secure, the armies of three ducal houses march on the last bastion of the insurrection and its foreign allies, determined to relieve the besieged beastfolk population and put an end to the civil war. But the frantic Lady Lydia Leinster races ahead, burning her way through every obstacle in her desperation to learn the fate of her missing partner, Allen. As she spirals out of control, her growing power threatens to incinerate her humanity along with her enemies. Only the combined efforts of Lydia's friends and Allen's students stand a chance of restoring the rampaging swordswoman to her senses before it's too late, but their undertaking won't amount to much if the rebellion's last gasp destroys the city with them in it.

The upheaval in the kingdom is drawing to a close, and it will take the birth of a new legend to make its end anything but tragic.

Textauszug

Prologue

“Fresh tidings! Friendly forces under Earl Sandré have safely retreated from the northern suburbs.”

“Earl Sulame and his forces have completed their retreat from the southern suburbs! They are currently at rest.”

“Earl Sven’s command has yet to return from their westward foray—possibly delayed by stormy weather.”

“Supply management at Central Station is improving.”

“Train tracks and other infrastructure between the royal and eastern capitals are under repair. The frequency of shipments is expected to decrease.”

The Algren residence in the royal capital was abuzz with reports. Though it was after midnight, knights and runners bearing news still streamed into our council hall. And while we were tracking troop movements on a table in the center of the room, using glass pieces and a map of the city, my people were scrambling to keep up with the sheer volume of information. What would they do without me—Greck Algren?!

“Grant ought to thank me. Here I am, holding the city while, back east, he struggles to take the Great Tree from a pack of animals,” I groused, lounging on the throne I’d taken from the ruins of the royal palace. To the newly arrived knights, I said reprovingly, “Thank you for your reports. But you have made one error—our withdrawal from the outlying towns is not a ‘retreat.’”

That seemed to baffle everyone in the room.

Imbeciles! How can they fail to see something so simple?!

“This is merely a strategic redeployment,” I continued with dignity, careful not to let my anger show. “We will resume our advance as soon as our supply issues are sorted out. Look at the facts: we have lost not a single soldier. Is this not so?”

A chorus of belated adulation filled the room.

“Quite true, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness sees clearly to the heart of the matter.”

“How fresh Your Highness’s outlook is! No wonder you dealt the palace garrison its first ever defeat!”

I crossed my legs and basked in the shower of praise. For the moment, I remained merely “His Highness, Lord Algren,” but I was destined for more. I had no designs on my elder brother, Duke Grant Algren. Still, I was the man who had taken the royal capital. When the war was over, my martial glory would surely merit a new dukedom—perhaps even the continent’s first grand dukedom in centuries.

More than a month had already passed since we had launched the Great Cause—our rebellion against the Royal House of Wainwright, which had spent the past several years scheming to strip the aristocracy of its sacred rights under the guise of “meritocracy.” The eastern capital’s Great Tree still defied us, and we had failed to capture the royal family due to the fierce resistance of their knights and bodyguards. Yet despite these minor hiccups, the war as a whole had gone much according to plan.

I stood and surveyed the map. “Raymond, what of the two eastern marquesses?” I asked. “If they sided with us, we could solve our supply problems with a single stroke and cease worrying about unreliable railways.”

A light-blond fellow—my right-hand man, Earl Raymond Despenser—stepped forward from his unobtrusive place beside me and shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ve made no headway with them,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map between the royal and eastern capitals. “I’ve dispatched messengers almost daily, but Marquesses Gardner and Crom continue to reserve their responses. By joining in the negotiations myself, however, I obtained their pledges to resume provisioning the royal capital. According to reports I’ve received, the first shipment has already departed their lands.”

“Indeed? Well done!” I cried, clapping Raymond on his right shoulder.

The original plan had called for us to pivot immediately after capturing the royal capital and march on either the northern Howards or the southern Leinsters while the former was still occupied with the Yustinian Empire and the latter, with the League of Principalities. We had hoped to pick them off while they were divided and distracted, yet our supply trains from the eastern capital had fallen behind schedule—due in part to the devious machinations of enemy saboteurs. And owing to canards spread by the impudent Torettos, the city’s major merchant houses had proved stubbornly uncooperative. As a result, our supply lines had become unreliable, leaving me with no choice but to redeploy the troops I had sent into the outlying settlements north, south, and west of the capital. I had left lookouts to ensure that we need not fear being taken unawares, even in the unlikely event that the Howards or Leinsters attempted a counterattack. Even so, it had not been a pleasant decision.

“Your Highness honors me,” Raymond said, bowing. “Although the most powerful merchants refuse us their aid, many smaller firms have offered their services. And the former Earl Rupert is presently engaged in recruiting more, along with the man I appointed to organize their efforts, Ernest Fosse. We have also transported a wealth of supplies from the outlying towns. Once the marquesses’ support is added to it, we should hear no more complaints from the people of the capital.”

“Excellent,” I said. The city dwellers engaged in no open resistance, but neither were they well-disposed toward us. The lowborn rabble was incapable of appreciating our lofty, patriotic spirit. Yet they would fall into line—once we favored them with food and the gold it inevitably generated.

Turning back to Raymond, I continued, “As soon as our supply lines are in order—”

Before I could finish outlining my intention to reoccupy the surrounding towns, a bearded knight clanked into the hall. It must have been raining, because the armored man was soaked through, and his hands and feet were caked in mud.

“Forgive me, Your Highness!” he cried. “I bring urgent news!”

“Control yourself, Viscount,” I said stiffly, eyeing the newcomer with a cold disdain shared by every other noble and knight present. “I believe I ordered you to transport arms to the western suburbs.”

This man, Zad Belgique by name, was an Algren vassal known throughout the east of the kingdom as a monster slayer. His fame, however, had not survived the early days of the Great Cause. During our conquest of the city, I had assigned him to mop up stragglers fleeing south, yet he and his men had disgraced themselves by falling into enemy hands. And who had captured him? “I remember engaging Leinster and Howard maids,” he had claimed, “but nothing more.” Ludicrous! He could at least have told a more convincing lie. Only the opposition of the old grand knight Haag Harclay, who had since led our elite Violet Order back to the eastern capital, had stopped me from disciplining Belgique on the spot. It appeared that my leniency had been misguided.

The viscount endured my gaze. I wondered why he was so pale as he strode to the center of the hall.

“The Ducal House of Lebufera is on the march!” he shouted, slamming his fist down on the west side of the city map. “I fear the western suburbs have already fallen!”

For a moment, stunned silence filled the hall. The House of Lebufera held one of our kingdom’s Four Great Dukedoms and governed its western provinces. For two centuries, it had faced down the demons—archenemies of the human race—across the continent’s largest waterway, Blood River. If the Lebuferas entered the war, bringing the rest of the western aristocracy and nonhuman peoples with them, the Dark Lord’s armies might seize the opportunity to resume their eastward march.

I shared a look with Raymond, then burst out laughing. “Ha!” I scoffed. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Belgique?!”

“Viscount,” said Raymond, “have you come to sow chaos? To betray the generosity His Highness showed you after your miserable blunder? If so...” He gripped the hilt of the dagger he wore at his belt, and my guard of knights likewise prepared for combat.

“Nonsense!” Belgique pleaded, grimacing and shaking his head. “Sir, I swear that I speak the truth! Amid the driving wind and rain, my men and I saw wyverns blanketing the skies above the city! A flash of lightning revealed a giant, toppling a bell tower at a stroke! Dwarves burst from fresh holes in the ramparts! And fluttering from atop the parapet, a great, timeworn standard emblazoned with a star! Earl Sven and his forces are surely lost!”

“And did you capture this spectacle on a video orb?”

“W-Well...” The bearded viscount clenched his fists and lowered his gaze. “No, sir. We retreated immediately and had no time.”

I sighed and motioned to my guards. “Enough. You must have hallucinated, recalling your time in captivity. I hereby relieve you of duty. Stand by in the capital with your men. Tell no one what you have just told me. If you breathe so much as a word...you won’t find clemency a third time.”

“Sir! Please, I—”

“Take him away!”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

When Belgique saw my guards closing in, he shook himself and departed, muttering, “What’s the use?”

Good riddance. My army has no place for those who undermine its discipline.

“Gentlemen, do not let baseless rumors sway you,” I said boldly, sweeping my gaze...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 22.6.2023
• Reihe/Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter
• Reihe/Serie: Private Tutor to the Duke's Daughter
• Illustrationen: Cura
• Übersetzer: William Varteresian
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Academy • action • aristocrats • Comedy • Harem • Light Novel • Magic
• ISBN-10: 1-7183-8612-5 / 1718386125
• ISBN-13: 978-1-7183-8612-9 / 9781718386129