Grande Armée in Another World: The Eagle and the Queen

Chapter 15 - Promise

Bonaparte had lamented his own childhood isolation and exile from his homeland to Cloumille before. He had told her not to indulge in self-pity. But she endured a much more painful situation than he did. It was needless to tell her not to complain. What must have been her state of mind when she heard his lament? Bonaparte felt ashamed for being so insensitive.

. . .

"Count Termalthal. I am your queen. Have you forgotten?"

Cloumille objected to being called "Cloumille, daughter of King Gulbas the Unifier."

"A monarch is someone worthy of power, Lady Cloumille. We, the lords of Riverside City, once revered you as our queen and pledged loyalty to the crown. Therefore, you had the obligation to defend us against enemies and protect our territories. However, you failed to protect our lands and lost battle after battle against King Dahad. As a result, our homes were burned, our people killed, and our treasures plundered. We survived only by kneeling before King Dahad and begging for forgiveness."

The old man addressed as Count Termalthal spoke, his voice hoarse yet powerful.

"This battle was a victory for you. However, King Dahad will surely gather a large army and return. If we recognize you as our queen again and are defeated by King Dahad upon his return, King Dahad will not forgive us as traitors. That is why we cannot call you our queen."

Cloumille had no words to reply.

"You are the sister of King Dahad, and we do not fight against you. However, we do not ally with you either," Count Termalthal concluded quietly.

Cloumille remained silent. The rustling sound of the clothes worn by each person filled the silence in the chamber.

"We will win!"

All of a sudden, Bonaparte's booming voice echoed in the room, and everyone turned to look at her. Bonaparte boldly stepped forward to the front of Cloumille's throne and spoke.

"I guarantee it. The queen will win every battle from now on!"

"Who might you be?" Count Termalthal asked.

"I am Napoleon Bonaparte! Friend of the queen. The one who defeated Dukes Zodaf and Dordafton. In my hands are weapons unknown to you and over a hundred thousand elite soldiers. Some among you should know their power firsthand. I promise the queen's victory. As long as I am with her, the queen will never lose! Therefore, rest assured and submit to the queen!"

A murmur of discussion arose among the nobles.

"Napoleon...?"

"Cloumille, I apologize for speaking out of turn. And I seem to have said quite insensitive things to you."

"No... there's no need for apologies."

"You promised before. To lend your strength. So, I'm lending mine to you."

The nobles discussed among themselves for a while before reaching a conclusion.

"Lady Cloumille, while we cannot call you our queen, we acknowledge you as our ruler and grant you the privileges of a king, including tax collection and other rights," was the Riverside City nobles' best concession.

. . .

After the lords disbanded, Bonaparte was invited to Cloumille's room.

"We have managed to gain the support of the nobles of Riverside City. Napoleon, how should I thank you?" Cloumille smiled innocently, like a child.

"It's nothing... I just want to show off my power to the nobles of this world. Also, to sustain our army, your power must be strong. And, remember our agreement? I lend my strength, and in return, I get what I want from you. I'm just hoping your courage is rewarded a little," Bonaparte quickly rattled off his reasons for cooperating.

Cloumille found it somewhat amusing and laughed like tinkling bells.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Hehehe... Napoleon, are you bad at hiding your feelings, or are you good at it...?"

"Stop laughing!"

"Sorry. Hehe... By the way, you said there are a hundred thousand soldiers. Why did you keep that from me?"

"I didn't. I have thirty-three thousand soldiers."

"...? What about the remaining sixty-seven thousand?"

"Adding my name to thirty-three thousand soldiers makes exactly a hundred thousand."

Cloumille couldn't tell if that was a joke or if Bonaparte was serious.