Gilrod, who had been waiting for her in the reception room, was with a servant. The servant held a wooden box in his hands.

“Didn’t I say I would give you a gift?”

Ophelia replied to the man who seemed to be in a better mood than ever, without hiding her hostility.

“You did.”

“I have brought it now.”

And Gilrod gestured to the servant. The servant who came forward in front of her knelt down and opened the lid of the box. Ophelia’s face hardened as she confirmed what was inside.

Inside the box was a necklace made of intertwined blue gemstones. The necklace, missing the smallest of the gems, shone brilliantly, out of place with the wooden box. It was a sight she knew well.

There had been someone kneeling before her and offering this. It was the man whose head had been attached until just yesterday.

When Starlet gave her this necklace, Ophelia did not accept it. The reason was that she did not want to play along with his lover’s game.

But now Starlet was dead, and this necklace had returned in the hands of the man who had orchestrated his death.

There was only one thing this fact meant.

Trying not to grit her teeth, Ophelia replied to Gilrod, who was looking up at her with a calm face.

“I have received the gift well.”

Her voice trembled despite trying to remain as calm as possible.

Gilrod bowed his head in response to her.

When the man’s smooth neck was exposed, Ophelia felt the urge to strangle it with the jewels in front of her. She didn’t think her anger would be quelled even if she strangled that neck until it was cut off.

But since she couldn’t turn the impulse into reality, Ophelia instead grabbed the necklace placed in front of her. The cold metal painfully dug into her palm.

“…Make sure you never forget today.”

“It is an honor.”

And Gilrod bowed his head even deeper. Though his face wasn’t visible at that angle, Ophelia knew he would be grinning from ear to ear.

Someday she would rip that mouth apart just like that. Looking down at the reddish-golden hair, she vowed.

About two weeks after the first engagement with Brinwell’s army, the expected events began to unfold.

“There are some who have deserted, so we have detained them for now.”

When Penrel entered the tent late in the evening and said so, Idren was not surprised. He had been thinking it was about time for such things to happen.

Nothing was better at lowering the morale of an army than desertion. Since he had experienced this in his past life, Idren replied to the knight standing before him with a troubled expression.

“Let me guess which army’s soldiers deserted. It’s too early for Nebel or Ond to move… Pelita?”

“…That’s correct.”

“If we were to punish them according to military law, they should be beheaded, but that’s too cruel… Let’s do this. Strip everything from those caught deserting and cast them out naked.”

The king said this without blinking an eye, but Penrel knew it was an even crueler act.

Being cast out naked in Kirios, where accumulated snow doesn’t melt, was far more painful than being executed swiftly. The environment was harsh with no private houses, so there was nowhere to seek help, and even if there were houses, helping deserters was a serious crime, so no one would help.

So in the end, they would wander around and freeze to death or be eaten by wild beasts.

Of course, desertion was a serious crime, so even that level of punishment wasn’t excessive, but it was a method he hadn’t expected to come from the king’s mouth.

As far as Penrel knew, the king wasn’t so generous, but he wasn’t someone who would punish beyond principles. It was partly because he wasn’t cruel by nature, but also because he was still at an age to value principles.

But the instruction the king had just given seemed to be that of someone well-versed in such situations.

But his impression wasn’t important in following orders. Penrel bowed briefly.

“I will do as you said. And a report has arrived from the capital.”

“Give it here.”

Penrel took out several envelopes from his breast and handed them to him.

Receiving them, Idren looked to see if there was a reply from Ophelia among them, but there was nothing with the queen’s seal.

Though he understood intellectually that she might not want to write a reply yet, it was disappointing not to have what he had been waiting for. With less enthusiastic hands, Idren broke Salode’s seal and thought about when he could return to the capital. Naturally, the battle they had fought last time came to mind.

During the last engagement, the fiercest battle took place on the left wing where he was. The adjutant of Prince Hator had come to where he was, not to the fake king. It was evidence that information had leaked from the inside.

Witnessing this, Penrel led his troops and caused an avalanche. The snow pile hit the center, and the troops deployed there suffered casualties on both sides.

Idren watched as that strategy, which he had fallen victim to in his past life, now struck the enemy army. It would have been nice if Hator had died there too, but he seemed to have escaped well.

And Penrel had continued to wear that gloomy expression since then. Idren spoke to the man who often paid attention to small details.

“Ophelia hasn’t written a reply. She must have read the letter…”

“Do you miss her?”

“Of course. We haven’t been married for long.”

In fact, their married life had been over three years, but what did that matter? He missed Ophelia even when they were in the same castle.

Moreover, it wasn’t just his personal feelings now. Turning the first page of the report, Idren added.

“…There are also some worrying aspects.”

Salode said that Starlet had been involved in an unfortunate incident and he had executed him. He said he had also found and captured the spy planted in Galicia and handed him over to Ophelia.

To others’ eyes, it would just look like dealing with a pirate, but Starlet had been Ophelia’s acquaintance. He and Ophelia had known each other since their previous life.

Although Ophelia hadn’t told him in detail, Idren knew that the two had been quite close.

When Ophelia talked about that pirate, she seemed decidedly definitive at a glance, which was difficult to do unless one knew the other person quite well.

It didn’t seem likely that Ophelia would be okay with such a man’s death.

Although she tended to act coldly, Ophelia wasn’t that cold-hearted. So she must have been shocked by the death of someone she had met face to face several times.

It would have been nice to know how she was feeling, what she was thinking, but no letter had come from Ophelia. It was certainly enough time for her to have read his reply and more.

The one fortunate thing was that Salode had written quite in detail about Ophelia.

Though the content wasn’t so desirable.

-Her Majesty the Queen does not avoid audiences with the elders.

It was an indirect way of saying that he had tried to dissuade Ophelia but she had not accepted. It was also news that Idren couldn’t help but worry about.

It wasn’t that he thought Ophelia was incompetent. Idren had seen how far she would go to get what she wanted.

But those actions didn’t make Ophelia happy.

In his past life, Ophelia had achieved all the goals she had set out to accomplish. She had only looked toward revenge, and had cleanly achieved what she had aimed for.

And then she had taken her own life.

Through that fact, Idren realized. The things Ophelia wanted were not things that made her want to live.

The clash with the elders was the same. Of course, Ophelia would have her own plans, but Idren wished she wouldn’t get entangled with people who were hostile to her. They would never have a positive influence on Ophelia, so it was a natural thought.

But how could he stop what she wanted to do? Idren let out a small sigh and put down the paper.

“How much longer do we have to wait to bring troops from the south?”

“Now that the harvest season is over, if the heads of the elder families aren’t too difficult, it should take about two months.”

“The timing is awkward.”

Ophelia had told him to return before the year changed. Even without her words, he wanted to return as soon as possible, given that Gilrod was in the capital.

Tilting his head back slightly, Idren muttered while looking at the ceiling of the tent.

“Besides the orthodox methods, what other ways are there to win a war?”

“Do you mean ways to determine victory and defeat without armies clashing?”

“Yes, it seems we won’t be able to end the war within this year if we wait for the southern troops.”

“I’m not sure, but… usually, defeating the commander determines victory and defeat.”

Hearing those words, something suddenly came to mind. Idren looked at the knight who had made just the right comment.

“You’re right.”

No matter how many troops remained, losing the commander meant losing the war. Wasn’t that why Penrel had lured the Brinwell army in his place in the past life?

Surviving by sacrificing the deaths of his subordinates, he had eventually turned the tide of the war. That’s what it meant for a commander to stay alive.

Then this time, he should use that.

Idren said to his knight who had made the smart comment.

“We need to capture Prince Hator.”