The queen of the Duchy of Beren, Alexandra von Gwendirente, hailed from Strasbourg, a self-governing free city in the Alsace region that belonged to neither Beren nor Roden.

A free city, with no lord and where all citizens are free men, has a unique political structure. I understand there are many such free imperial cities within the Holy Roman Empire.

But as the saying goes, when the cat’s away, the mice will play, and powerful families would either form alliances or wage internal struggles to dominate the city. Just like the wealthy farmers of Feuzen who exploited their tenants.

The Gwendirente family was the most influential family in Strasbourg, and the marriage between their daughter and the crown prince of Beren (Karlus) was part of a political strategy to absorb the free city into Beren.

It was true that the Altringen-led Duchy of Beren and the Lothringen-led Duchy of Roden were locked in confrontation over Strasbourg, the central city of Alsace. On the surface they had formed a mutual defense pact against Burgundy, but power struggles exist everywhere.

Without the common enemy of Burgundy, they would have been at each other’s throats just like Württemberg. This ironic situation, where an external enemy enforced peace, had continued for a hundred years, with Strasbourg walking a tightrope between the two duchies.

It was within this complex political landscape that the political marriage between Beren and Strasbourg was arranged, forging a close relationship. At one point, this even created tensions with the Duchy of Roden. That was eighteen years ago.

"As I recall, it was the third anniversary of their marriage. Suddenly, the queen’s attendant asked me to deliver a letter to someone."

"The royal palace gatekeeper delivers letters too?"

The atmosphere was heavy, so I tried to lighten it with a joke, but please don’t take it so seriously, sir. Despite his discomfort, Karlstadt admitted that the royal palace guards moonlighted as letter carriers for the extra income.

"Nobles residing in the palace couldn’t leave freely, so they often asked us to deliver letters or packages. It was a kind of outlet and a source of extra income."

"I always assumed that men who’d guarded the palace for so long would be more upstanding."

"Hmph, people are the same everywhere, Lord of Feuzen."

He was right that people are the same wherever they live. From the back alleys of Breisburg all the way to Feuzen, having dealt with all kinds of people, I’ve found that aside from differences in social status, there’s nothing fundamentally different about them.

"But errands for the royal family are in a different league entirely."

"Politically, it could cause major problems."

Normally he should have ordered his subordinates to do it, but thinking that the fewer people who knew the secret the better, he had personally delivered the letter himself. The problem was the recipient.

"Don’t tell me the person you met then was..."

"Lydia from Baron Constance’s household."

Karlstadt wet his throat with the rose tea I had brewed myself. He gulped down the tea, which was meant to be savored, as though he were downing cold water. He leaned back into the sofa, lost in memories of those days.

"Do you know what kind of letter it was, sir?"

"I was merely the queen’s delivery man."

He drew a clear line, saying he didn’t know the contents of the letter. Depending on what was in it, the story would change entirely. If it was a love letter, it pointed to the queen having an affair; if it was a letter of greetings, it was simply a letter to a friend.

But the scales tipped more heavily toward a love letter. If it had been an innocent correspondence, the letter would have been sent through official channels. There would have been no need to send it secretly through a gatekeeper. But this too was just speculation.

"As the deliveries continued, my meetings with her grew more frequent. Imagine, a man old enough to have grandchildren feeling such late-blooming affection. It was probably my first and last."

"What does age matter when it comes to love? What matters is whether it’s open and honest."

"...It wasn’t open and honest. That’s the problem."

Whether love comes early or late in life, I can’t think well of someone who isn’t faithful to their family. Considering the political marriages of the era, it’s not entirely impossible to understand, but those are all just excuses.

"I hope you, sir, are as the rumors say."

"I quite enjoy the reputation of being Beren’s most devoted husband."

"Hmph, we’ll see how long that fidelity lasts."

His tone turned brusque, perhaps stung by my words. In any case, Karlstadt couldn’t continue his relationship with Lydia for long. Lydia was also old enough to have grandchildren, so she retired.

When she returned to her hometown, Karlstadt gave her the handkerchief and hairpin as parting gifts. After that, for a long time, he had thought of it merely as a precious memory, but the news I brought had shattered that.

"I’ve told you everything I know."

"All I’ve heard is your love story, sir."

"What matters is the relationship between Lydia and me, not the queen’s letter, isn’t it?"

Given that Baron Constance was involved, one could speculate there was a connection to whoever was eliminating the survivors of the third battle. But even this wasn’t a definitive link.

What was certain, however, was that something had been going on between Baron Constance and the queen. At this point, even speculation had to be approached carefully. But what the killers were after through the Lydia incident was clear.

"Torture means they were extracting information, but going to such lengths just to dig up your love affair with a handmaid is far too extreme. Don’t you agree, sir? Who would benefit from exposing your affair?"

"...They were probably trying to dig up the relationship between the queen and Baron Constance."

"Who could possibly benefit from that?"

There had to be someone who would gain by bringing this relationship to light or by using it as leverage. If we could narrow it down to a specific person, I could verify them with the Scouter.

But Karlstadt’s expression turned gravely serious.

"There are countless suspects. Starting with the enemy nation Burgundy, then Roden which suffered from the political marriage, Württemberg which has its eye on Beren’s territory, and the prince factions trying to undermine the royal family’s prestige. Pinpointing a single culprit is nearly impossible. And there’s also the queen’s homeland of Strasbourg."

"...Now that I think about it, the list of people who’d stand to benefit really is enormous."

The scope of suspects was far too broad.

When the Altringen royal family is shaken, the ones who benefit are the neighboring nations and the regional princes. The moment the royal family’s authority falls, regional control could weaken, leading to a decline in national power. On top of that, there was a strong chance Strasbourg and Roden could get involved.

Unlike the western and northern princes who had been fighting Burgundy their whole lives, the eastern princes took the stance that they didn’t particularly need the Beren royal family. They could just sign vassal contracts with Burgundy and be done with it.

The eastern princes had always been a thorn in the royal family’s side.

And the one who had unified these eastern lords was Duke Radensdorf.

Wait, Duke Radensdorf?

The emergence of an unexpected new suspect made my head spin. This might not be a simple royal conspiracy but a scheme by a collateral branch of the royal family to undermine royal authority and seize something in the process.

"Sir, what about Duke Radensdorf?"

"Absolutely not. Don’t even voice such conjectures."

"But isn’t he the one who would benefit most?"

"His Highness and the duke were brothers who got along well. I’ve watched them since they were children, and their bond was a blessing from the Lord."

Originally, the throne was meant for Grand Duke Karlus, but because of nobles trying to align themselves, factions had formed and the brothers ended up in unwilling opposition. The second prince, Johannes, chose Radensdorf, which had been royal demesne.

As a result, the Radensdorf ducal family was born. By gathering the uncooperative eastern princes and rallying them behind the current royal family, this was widely regarded as a politically brilliant move.

But what if all of that was a lie?

Something terrifying might be afoot.

But it was just speculation, and there was no concrete evidence.

"I’ll take my leave now. As a man of your standing, I trust you to keep this secret. And please, you must catch the bastard who killed Lydia. If you need my help, contact me anytime."

"Well, I’ll do my best."

He didn’t seem pleased with my answer, but my head was throbbing. I had planned to root out the family murderer to fill my quota, and now suddenly the royal family gets dragged in? What is this nonsense—one damn thing leading to another?