A luxurious carriage was making its way out of the city of Jean, driven along the roads by Sylvia, Ryan's head maid. She sat at the front of the carriage, expertly guiding six half-blood elven warhorses. Beside the carriage, Morgiana's unicorn, Silfan, and Ryan's horse, Grape, along with Sulia's steed, Licht, followed. The mixed-blood warhorses seemed somewhat displeased at being used to pull the carriage, but with the presence of two pureblood elven steeds and a unicorn, they remained obedient.
The royal carriage was 3.2 meters long and 2.1 meters wide, crafted from gold and high-quality oak, with its body further embellished by dwarf artisans. Diamonds and gold adorned the exterior, while the interior was furnished with pieces imported from the high elven capital of Lothern or the royal palace of Saphery. Even the curtains were imported from the kingdom of Kothique.
This luxurious carriage was a birthday gift from Ryan to both Sulia and the Lady of the Lake (?). After Veronica and Theresa had received their own magical carriages, Sulia had remained silent, but it was clear that she had feelings about it. For a time, every time Ryan saw his wife, she was always with their son, Devonhill.
Ryan, of course, understood what Sulia was hinting at, and he immediately ordered a royal carriage to be built for her.
In this regard, Ryan deeply appreciated and respected Sulia. With Ryan often away leading campaigns or occupied with state affairs, much of the realm's management fell on Sulia's shoulders. She handled the kingdom's finances, oversaw personnel matters, and was in charge of many key decisions. It was often said among the nobles that it was better to avoid offending Queen Sulia or Lady Morgiana than King Ryan, as Ryan was known for being fair and forgiving. If someone made a mistake, they would be punished, but Ryan was quick to accept apologies and move on.
However, offending Sulia or Morgiana was a different matter altogether.
Despite her position, Sulia didn't demand the carriage directly. She could have simply used Ryan's wealth to commission one without asking, and Ryan wouldn't have objected. She could also have had the designs and models prepared before bringing it up with Ryan, and he would likely have approved.
But doing so would have changed the nature of things.
Simply put, Sulia was the queen consort, not the queen regnant. Ryan, as king, held the final decision-making authority.
This was the nature of power.
Sulia understood this balance well. She always managed to shine within the framework provided, demonstrating her exceptional abilities in domestic and diplomatic affairs. Yet she ensured that, when it came to major decisions, she and Ryan discussed them together. Ryan often felt that marrying Sulia had been one of his best decisions. Although his longest and deepest relationship was with Veronica, his greatest love was for Sulia.
As a result, Morgiana didn't get her wish of riding alone with Ryan to Theresa's Ice Wizard's Tower. No sooner had Ryan finished officiating the Old Guard's retirement ceremony than Sulia arrived with Sylvia. Sulia was somewhat displeased that Ryan hadn't taken her to the ceremony, and when she heard that he was headed to the Ice Wizard's Tower, she immediately insisted on coming along.
"Wait, aren't you bringing Devonhill?" Ryan asked, wondering why she hadn't brought their son.
"No, why would I bring him to a place filled with witches? Do you want him to start seeking out female courtiers like his father did at a young age?" Sulia smiled.
"Uh…" Ryan felt a bit pressured, while Morgiana nodded in agreement.
And so, the Knight King, the Queen, and the Enchantress of the Lake set off toward the Ice Wizard's Tower. Theresa's tower was built deep within the Chalon Forest, near a secluded cabin alternately guarded by Angron and the Emperor's elite troops. The journey took two to three hours, as Theresa and Aurora preferred solitude, unlike Veronica.
Inside the carriage, two pairs of high heels, one black with red soles and studded with diamonds, the other pearl-colored peep-toes, lay by the door—belonging to Sulia and Morgiana, respectively. Ryan's leather boots also sat at the entrance.
The interior of the carriage, equipped with a heating and cooling system crafted by high elven mages, was a small five-square-meter room. It held a row of seats, a cabinet, a small table, and a bed. Ryan sat on the couch, his arm around Sulia's waist, while Morgiana curled up on the bed. The three of them chatted casually, discussing recent events.
Morgiana had changed into a brown jasmine pudding polka-dot mesh dress and light coffee-colored sheer tights. For some reason, her cheeks remained flushed, and she seemed a little uneasy, covering herself with a blanket. Ryan could tell she was trying to act composed, and he quickly guessed her original plan. Teasingly, he asked, "What's wrong, Morgiana?"
"Nothing, just a little tired. I'll feel better after sitting for a while," Morgiana replied with a hint of resentment.
Sulia, meanwhile, wore a complete set of white velvet clothing—a stylish yet sensuous blouse paired with a royal-patterned knee-length skirt, with a white fox fur coat draped over her shoulders. Her long, slender legs were wrapped in black velvet tights with a diamond sheen, and a sparkling diamond anklet adorned her ankle.
The queen had clearly dressed up for the occasion. Leaning against Ryan's shoulder, she appeared relaxed. "Ryan, will there be no wars for the next few years?"
"Of course. This recent expedition to the Eight Peaks Mountains has nearly exhausted the kingdom's military potential. For at least the next three years, we won't be able to launch large-scale campaigns," Ryan nodded, holding his wife close. "The next few years will be spent on farming, development, and pushing industrialization. The dukes gained a lot from this expedition, and they'll need time to absorb the benefits."
Sulia nodded slightly, quickly calculating several possibilities in her mind. She softly asked, "So… you still plan to move to Mousillon?"
"Of course," Ryan confirmed. Jean was too small for a capital, and it lacked the space for future development. Moving the capital to Mousillon was inevitable, but given the current living conditions there and Devonhill's young age, it would take time.
Construction on the new Mousillon royal palace was already underway, with vast resources and manpower being invested. The North-South Canal project had been completed, making it easier to continue palace construction. The first phase would cover around 50 hectares, and many old noble buildings had already been demolished to make way.
"I see," Sulia said softly. She felt a bit reluctant to leave the ducal castle in Jean, which held so many cherished memories of her time with Ryan. Morgiana also seemed unwilling to leave Jean. But if Ryan was set on moving, they would follow.
"Haha, don't worry—it won't happen too soon. Besides, if you really don't want to move, we can keep Mousillon as a secondary palace," Ryan smiled, noticing their expressions.
"I do prefer staying here," Sulia admitted, leaning against Ryan's shoulder. "But wherever you are is home."
"I feel the same," Morgiana chimed in.
Ryan thought about Devonhill. Was he truly just an accident? The thought made him chuckle awkwardly.
In the end, if they didn't want to move, perhaps they could simply split their time between the two places.
The carriage wheels rumbled along, and the peaceful winter scenery passed by. Most peasants had gone to the city to find work during the agricultural off-season, while others sat in village taverns or large houses, chatting idly. In the marketplace, large potatoes and freshly baked bread filled the shelves, with people going about their daily lives. Through the small carriage window, Ryan gazed at the tranquil and joyful scene, feeling content. He saw children laughing as they played in the snow, building snowmen and having snowball fights—the future of Bretonnia.
Sulia watched with pride, feeling immense satisfaction in her heart. This was the land her husband had built, achieving the impossible time and again.
"Speaking of which, you really disbanded all four thousand freedmen?" Morgiana broke the silence, curious about the recent decisions. Though this wasn't the private carriage ride she had hoped for, the comfortable and relaxed atmosphere still suited her.
"There was no choice," Ryan replied, a bit annoyed.
Aside from François' reinforcements and the garrison left at Couronne, Ryan's 15 peasant infantry regiments had dwindled to just over four after accounting for casualties. Of the remaining 4,000, many had been absorbed into the Old Guard, so there were about 4,000 peasant soldiers who had all been elevated to freedmen. Each received a medal commemorating the Eight Peaks Mountain expedition, as well as a third-class silver cross.
Although the elite soldiers had been transferred to the Old Guard, those remaining were still loyal and battle-hardened soldiers. Ryan had originally planned to form a new regiment called the Young Guard from them.
However, the dukes protested. The most outspoken was Duke Berchmond, who immediately opposed the idea. "Your Majesty, these are our people, our soldiers. They've been through so much and have become excellent soldiers. Before you returned, you already took the best to reinforce your Old Guard. We didn't say anything then, but you need to leave some for us, right? Especially for my Red Dragon Guard—I've been planning to expand it for a long time."
"Exactly!" Mont
fort's young Duke Ford shouted the loudest, expressing his displeasure. "Your Majesty, I need these men to help defend the Axe Bite Pass and form a new army, the Highland Guard!"
"Parravon also needs a new army to maintain order, the Parravon Swift Guard!"
"Lyonnais agrees! A new army will help us better face northern threats and western pirates, the Chivalrous Regiment!"
"Bordeleaux will form a force as strong as the Old Guard. The Sea God Mannan has already named this unit: the Mannan Guard!"
"Carcassonne believes these soldiers will best ensure the safety of the South, the Black Mountain Watch!"
The dukes all opposed Ryan's plan, their eyes fixed on the elite survivors of the expedition. Even François demanded more troops for his Unicorn Guard. In the end, Ryan had no choice but to send the soldiers back to their respective duchies.
Even as king, Ryan couldn't act too greedily. Besides, these weren't his personal troops.
In the end, Ryan kept about 400 soldiers for himself, forming a new regiment called the "Mousillon Coldstream Guard," tasked with ceremonial duties. In the future, he planned to expand it into a full regiment.
The Old Guard would be his main offensive force, while the Coldstream Guard would focus on defense.
When will I finally have my own Honor Guard? Ryan thought to himself. Father, even Vulkan has his Phoenix Guard now, and they're made of Primaris Space Marines—super soldiers created using the Old Ones' birthing pools. His personal guard.
"Speaking of which, my brother Vulkan is planning to return to the Old World," Ryan said, turning to Sulia and Morgiana. "He'll be coming to Bretonnia to meet with us first."
"Vulkan? Should we prepare a welcoming ceremony?" Sulia asked. She had met Ryan's brother a few times, and he had left a great impression on her. Compared to Angron, who was kind-hearted but looked fierce, Vulkan was much more popular among Bretonnia's nobility. Handsome, elegant, and charming, Vulkan embodied the perfect nobleman. His reputation had spread across the Old World thanks to his exploits in Lustria. Everyone knew that in the New World, in Lustria, there was a ruler named Vulkan.
There were also endless theories about the true identity of Ryan and Vulkan's father, with no consensus in sight.
However, Vulkan's fame had spread far and wide. His army had fought against Skaven, Dark Elves, Chaos tribes, and Vampire Pirates without suffering a single defeat. Even the haughty High Elves of Ulthuan were discussing his power. As a result, Vulkan had earned a new nickname: "The Purple Phoenix," due to his personal emblem, a phoenix reborn in flames.
The rise of his Ash Legion was also called the "Purple Phoenix's Rebirth."
Incidentally, Vulkan had renamed his port of conquest to "Constantinople," and his new flagship was named "Saint Sophia."
"What brings him back to the Old World?" Sulia asked, intrigued.
"He's coming to meet me," Ryan replied, his mood becoming a bit complicated. "We need to discuss how to deal with the High Elves."
"Dealing with the High Elves? Haven't you already established diplomatic relations with them through Lord Teclis?" Sulia asked, puzzled.
"It's not the same," Ryan shook his head.
"This time, my brother and I need to find a way to set foot on Ulthuan and get closer to the Flame Temple of the Phoenix King, Asuryan, on the Isle of Rebirth."
"We'll need to plan this carefully."
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