The lamps were just being lit.
A carriage wound through the streets and alleys of Trullinczentyr, finally stopping at the back door of an unremarkable inn.
The door opened and a man completely shrouded in a cloak slipped out of the carriage. He scanned his surroundings warily, and only after confirming he wasn't being followed did he hurry into the inn.
He was Oscar, the Twin Empresses' most loyal messenger.
Though not a member of the Voice of the Empress, his loyalty, astuteness, and capability had earned the Empresses' favor, and he was specially assigned to certain confidential missions.
Tucked inside his coat was the secret decree that could turn all of Leithanien upside down.
His mission was to deliver it personally to the secret contact of the Elector of Heidenshweir.
Oscar's heart pounded in his chest.
He knew what he carried, and he felt an unparalleled sense of honor at being able to execute such a crucial task.
In his view, Lacey was a despicable villain who incited mobs, a cancer that threatened the foundation of the state. For the peace of the empire, he had to be eradicated.
The rendezvous point was a guest room on the second floor of the inn.
As arranged, Oscar knocked lightly three times: one long, two short.
The door creaked open. A similarly dressed figure stood inside and stepped aside to let him in.
The room was unlit; only moonlight streamed in through the window.
"Have you brought it?" the other's voice was low.
"The decree from Her Majesties the Empresses." Oscar pulled the parchment scroll, sealed with wax and the royal sigil, from his coat, his tone proud.
The figure reached out, about to take it.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Oscar caught a glimpse of a blurry dark shape behind the door.
Alarm bells screamed in his mind. Years as a secret agent made him retreat instinctively, his hand already reaching for the weapon at his waist.
"Who's there!"
But it was too late.
A hand shot out from the darkness and clamped down on his wrist, the immense force immobilizing him.
At the same time, a damp cloth was pressed hard over his mouth and nose.
A pungent smell flooded his lungs. Oscar's struggles lasted only a few seconds before his vision went black.
The lamp in the room was lit.
Gertrude emerged from the shadows behind the door. She wore a neat, practical outfit, her long, gray-black hair tied back.
She glanced at the unconscious Oscar on the floor, then at the decree her subordinate had seized from his hand, a mocking glint in her eyes.
"Clean up all traces, take him to the safe house, and make him spill everything he knows," she ordered her subordinate.
"Yes, Director."
Gertrude picked up the parchment, still warm from the messenger's body. With a small knife, she carefully broke the wax seal and unrolled it.
The contents of the letter were laid bare before her eyes.
"Heh."
She let out a soft laugh.
"How... simple and crude."
She rerolled the decree, placed it in a specially made metal tube, and turned to leave the room.
The entire process was clean and efficient, as if she had merely dealt with a trivial matter.
Two hours later, inside the tower in Eisenwald.
Lacey was at a sand table, simulating potential military movements against Abraham's and Hoffmann's forces.
Taylor and several staff officers from the combat division were engaged in a heated discussion nearby.
The study door was pushed open, and Gertrude walked in.
"Everyone out," she said to Taylor and the others.
Taylor glanced at Lacey, and seeing him nod, led his men out of the study, closing the door behind him.
"Your bait caught a shark."
Gertrude walked to the desk and placed the metal tube on it.
Lacey turned. He recognized the tube—it was the type the intelligence division used to transport the highest-level intelligence.
He opened the cap and took out the parchment scroll inside.
When he saw the familiar royal seal and the decree personally signed by Lizelotte, his face was expressionless.
This decree was what he had been waiting for.
From the moment he had set out on this path, he knew that economic development and popular support would not be enough.
The rulers of the old world would never exit the stage of history with dignity.
Their arrogance and prejudice destined them, when cornered, to cast off all pretense and bare their primal fangs.
And his role was to bait them, to force them, to make them personally tear off the cloak of "legitimacy" before the eyes of the entire world.
He remembered his days wandering the streets of Trullinczentyr, the place at the academy stolen by a Son of Dominic, the blood-soaked dusk when his parents were slain by Bach the Butcher's blade.
The root of all this lay in this corrupt system, one that sat on high and regarded human life as worthless as weeds.
And the Twin Empresses, as the highest symbols of this system, had personally signed this death warrant, giving him the final piece of the puzzle.
"The messenger?" Lacey finally spoke, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"Alive. Soon he'll write a full confession detailing the entire process of delivering the decree, including the names of everyone involved," Gertrude replied.
"Good." Lacey carefully placed the decree back into the metal tube. "Where is Serafina?"
"In the External Liaison Department, handling communications with our allies."
"Have her come here."
"Notify all heads of the Propaganda Department. No one sleeps tonight. Everyone is on highest alert.
"I want photocopies of this decree, along with that messenger's confession, on the walls of every city in Leithanien, on the door of every household, before sunrise."
"Understood!"
Gertrude's expression was excited as she turned to leave.
Lacey stopped her. "Gertrude."
She looked back.
"Well done."
Lacey looked at her with appreciation. "None of this would have gone so smoothly without you."
Gertrude froze for a moment, then a faint blush colored her lupine ears.
That simple praise was more rewarding to her than any gift of money or power.
"At your service, my lord." She bowed slightly and exited the study.
Shortly after, Serafina entered carrying a steaming cup of black tea and a plate of pastries.
She placed the tray on the table and said softly, "You've been busy all day. Eat something first. Even if you're starting a revolution, you can't do it on an empty stomach, can you?"
Her warm smile and concerned words dissipated the grim, murderous atmosphere in the study.
Lacey looked at her, his tense nerves relaxing slightly.
He picked up a biscuit and put it in his mouth.
"Thank you too, Serafina."
"Too?"
Serafina tilted her head.
But she didn't dwell on it.
"Hurry up and eat."
Serafina straightened his slightly wrinkled collar.
"It's going to be a long night ahead."
Lacey nodded, his gaze turning toward the window.
The distant roll of thunder seemed to herald a storm that was about to sweep across all of Leithanien.
________________________________________
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