Count Aurelius von Edelstein stood in silence by the window of his study, watching the Church's carriage roll out of the courtyard like a serpent leaving its coil.
"She was buying time," he muttered.
Rose, standing nearby, turned to him. "The nun?"
He shook his head. "My wife. The Countess. Everything she did—the reforms, the drills, the mana discipline—it wasn't just innovation. It was strategy. Insurance."
"You think she knew the Church would come for her?"
"I know she knew. That's why she pushed to have our County's military structure revamped—replacing the old chivalric nonsense with something modern, something efficient. Squad formations, timed drills, mana discipline… all based on systematized thinking. From another world."
He said it without blinking.
Rose's eyes narrowed. "You believe what Regina told you?"
"I believe she was from somewhere else. And if we'd reached the King's ears—if just one royal campaign had seen what she built—he would've promoted me to Duke, and the Church wouldn't dare cross us then. The Crown protects its own reforms."
"But the Church moved first," Rose said bitterly.
"And killed her before the King ever visited. Not directly, of course. No, they used whispers. Cultists. Assassins in the dark. The kind of filth that never leaves a trail to Rome."
Silence fell.
Then: "What of the girl? Luna?"
"She's a variable," he admitted. "But Regina's bonded to her. That might be our best shield for now. Keep her close. Watch her grow."
"And the Church?"
He looked out again. "We're in check. But not checkmate. Not yet."