Victory and defeat both have a momentum inherent in them. On an individual, one-by-one scale, this momentum is a mirage. Just because victory is scored in one battle does not mean victory will be scored in the next battle. Yet score ten victories in a row and suddenly the eleventh will be easier. Score a hundred and the danger is no longer your skill but rather complacence. Win a thousand and watch your enemy retreat before the battle even starts.

Reputation has a quality in itself that only fools refuse to appreciate. One can be unskilled, uncharismatic, even downright worthless, yet still be carried to a high station simply because of reputation. I may not command a battle any better than any of my generals, yet the victories will come easier to me simply because of the fact that enemy soldiers have to win a battle against the fear in their own minds before they even step onto the battlefield against me.

It is not the be-all, end-all, of course. But it is a factor to consider, and that fact alone means one should be skilled in its wielding.

“King Aimone requests your presence Goddess.” Agrita yawned and stretched as she blinked her rest away. She hadn’t quite fallen asleep, but it was definitely more than a simply closing of the eyes; a snooze then she decided.

“Hello?” Agrita asked reality came settling back in. Maybe she had actually fallen asleep for a few moments there. “Aimone?” She looked around and saw the soldier that the King had sent. In dark tan shorts and shirt and with a ribbon over his right sleeve. A veteran of Fortia’s invasion into the nation then. “What does he want?”

“Your presence Goddess. The King has asked specifically for you to come to the council chamber to discuss the next course of action.

“Oh.” Agrita said as she kicked her legs into the air and dexterously jumped up off the grass she was lying on. The sun was high in the sky and if Agrita could, she would have ran off to some private piece of land in order to sunbathe. Yet alas, she was needed here! Rilia had too much going on politically to be able to afford its Goddess some freedom, so Agrita played with the cards she was dealt.

Maybe Aliana or Saksma would complain, but Agrita had no problem with it. Sometimes, her nation needed her and sometimes she needed her nation. Rilia wasn’t rich, it wasn’t a massive centre of manufacturing like Doschia and it didn’t have the huge ports of Allia, yet it was hers. It was quaint, it had the best weather in the world, its kitchen was in a league of its own and its wines were second to none. And it was hers. She didn’t care how bad it got, in the same way that men did not choose their families yet still loved them, Agrita could not choose her nation yet still loved it.

The Goddess stood up and readjusted her orange dress as she stretched again. “You said he’s in the council chamber?”

“That is correct Goddess. King Aimone is waiting for you.” The man sounded as if he was teetering between annoyance and amusement at how many times he had to repeat himself already.

“Very well.” Agrita set off without waiting for the man to lead her. She didn’t know how things operated with her friends and how things operated with Iliyal was also a mystery, but even though she was walking to the largest royal palace in the world, it was a rather humble atmosphere. The Reggia di Tasarta stood huge, with no towers and no curves, instead it was a massive block of carved stone with hundreds of windows stitched onto its side. All square, with a waterfall and a wide riverbed of shallow, clear water running more than three kilometres away from the palace.

Agrita had been here when the first stone was laid, she had been here when the aqueduct for the water feature had been completed, she had been here during the palace’s renovations and she had been here last time the walls were repainted and she took a few moments to stop and gaze one way and then the other. A mass of children was playing the garden. Although the south was largely retaken already, schools and services still needed to be reorganized before they resumed services so the several thousand families that were taking refuge in the palace could stay a week longer.

More people stepped out of the way of Agrita as the Goddess closed the distance to the grand oaken doors of the King’s Wing. Here, like every else in the palace, the corridors were wide and tall even though they were filled with beds and mats for people to sleep on. A mother was watching over two small children build blocks, and a whole band of boys was having fun running, then dropping onto their front and sliding along the pristine marble.

One of the young boys stopped close to Agrita’s boots, he spun, saw the Goddess and blushed at his misbehaviour. Agrita gave him a knowing wink and put her finger over her mouth to make sure he’d know she wouldn’t tell. Opening the doors of the Reggia di Tasarta had been the Goddess’ idea in the first place, and Aimone had jumped on it immediately when she proposed it. And Agrita didn’t even think the man was doing it for any reason of publicity, it was simply the right thing to do. She herself was only doing it because she loved seeing these empty corridors be filled with life.

They were messy true, twice Agrita saw people wipe up spilled water and juice off the marble. Three times she had to take a large step to not knock over a castle a child had built out of building blocks and one time, she made sure to walk quietly when she saw a uniformed soldier, also a veteran of the southern front with the red ribbon over his right arm, sitting a bench with a pretty girl resting on his shoulder. Both were asleep and both were smiling with sweet dreams.

A whole team of guards protected one staircase from the public. The only place in the palace that the commoners weren’t allowed, the second and third floor of this wing were Aimone lived and from were too much of the country was ran. The guards stepped aside for the Goddess twice their height as Agrita climbed five stairs with each of her own steps.

And here, the corridor had all the regalness that the palace normally maintained. The huge marbled corridor was wide enough for a dozen men to walk side-by-side, and tall enough that even Agrita could not touch the ceiling. Agrita’s heels broke the silence up here with each step the Goddess took. There was no point slowing down here, the Goddess of Rilia knew exactly where she was going. First right, then second door on the left. It was a brilliant room, the doors tall enough for two Agritas and wide enough for three.

Agrita entered the room where Aimone was sat with the King’s Council. Inside, it was all marble stone and wooden furniture. From the tone that the soldier had used, Agrita had expected the men to be on the verge of collapse. But she came in and she saw Aimone looking focused in a loose white shirt, the top unbuttoned in today’s heat. And the rest of the council was much the same, a few of the men wore shirts but the dress code had always been fairly loose when in private. No extravagance or flamboyance was allowed, but the buttons didn’t have to be done up.

Agrita, in her casual orange dress that she had donned purely for comfort, fit right into the crowd. “You called for me.” Agrita said idly as she went off to grab herself a glass of wine.

“I did.” Aimone said. “Have you seen the news?” Agrita remembered talking with the other Goddesses about their governments. All of them utterly hated their own regimes. That was another reason Agrita loved her own country, here, she was on a first name basis with everyone.

“Have I?” Agrita’s voice jovially boomed across the room.

King Aimone did not have to say a word, one of his advisors, Niccolo spoke up. Tall and skinny, he immediately turned his laptop around as Agrita came back and showed it to the Goddess. “This is from Allia. I happened when? Twelve hours ago?”

“Thirteen.” Lorenzo shouted, another advisor. Dark haired and with a strong nose and jaw and in a red shirt. “It was just before midnight.”

“Thirteen hours ago.” Agrita leaned down as she sipped her wine. Several of the other advisors brought out their own drinks as Agrita watched the video. It was Aliana, dressed up in gold and red armour that made the Goddess seem like something out of a dream or like a myth brought to life.

“Let us not pretend that the world is not changing! The Epan Community is dead! The Epan Coalition has failed! Anarchians run rabid across Rancais! Ciria is retooling the UNN for war! The White Pantheon has declared open conflict against Arascus’ Empire! And the Empire now is the predominant force in Epa!” Agrita’s lips quirked up in a smile as she looked around the room. Well, that was pessimistic enough to be in character for Aliana although Aliana simply didn’t speak like that. It was more as if she was reading from a script. Agrita quickly glanced at the men in the room who didn’t know the Goddess as well as she did, they were certainly enjoying the speech. “So now, after careful deliberation with King Richard VI of Allia, we have decided on finally taking a step towards the future. The King’s rights will stay with him, however all the King’s privileges shall be transferred to me.”

Agrita blinked. Did she just hear that correctly? She watched Aliana pick up a document and hold it for the camera, although Agrita didn’t bother reading whatever was written on that piece of paper. It didn’t matter after those words. The King’s privileges? All of them? So Richard had just surrendered all authority to Aliana? Just like that?

Something stunk.

Agrita could tell that something stunk without even needing to smell it. Richard was not the sort of character to abandon his power and Aliana? Well… But then as Agrita thought, it did make sense, didn’t it? When they saw Anassa, Agrita remembered her childish and innocent awe and she remembered Aliana’s envious awe. “She just goes into reasons now.” Niccolo. “Unless we want to listen to them? I assume we don’t. It just sounds like Imperial propaganda.”

“That it does.” Aimone confirmed. “What do you think Agrita?”

“Unexpected.” Agrita said as she downed her glass of wine. “Why? What is Aliana doing? I don’t think she’s gone mad. She was fine when we fought together.”

“Go to the first proclamation.” Aimone said.

“I’m scrolling to it already.” Niccolo said.

Lorenzo shook his head and crossed his arms before Niccolo managed to find the section of the speech he was looking for. “It’s not looking good, that’s what I’d say.”

“I don’t think you would have called me if it was looking good.” Agrita said.

Victor, another of the advisors spoke up spoke up, annoyed at Niccolo’s lack of haste. “How long can you take? Just skip ahead!”

“I’ve got it!” Niccolo finally exclaimed. He turned his laptop back around to show Agrita and let the video of Aliana play.

“If Allia stagnates in neutrality, then we will become scraps to be picked apart either by Ciria’s coalition, by the White Pantheon or by Arascus’ Empire! We cannot stay neutral! We must pick a side! Thus, my first order as Divine Autarch of Allia is a promise that Allia will join the Empire and that Allia will-“ Niccolo cut the video out.

“She’s goes on a bit longer than that, but Allia is joining the Empire. We know now, one hundred percent, it will happen.” Niccolo said as Agrita walked in a circle around the table.

“Do you see the problem?” Aimone asked.

The problem was obvious, right? Did it even need explaining? Agrita did nevertheless, this is usually how they did things here, a decision would be made without someone, then that person would be brought to offer a clean-slate perspective. It just so happened that Agrita had been snoozing in the sun instead of attending meetings. “Lubska and Doschia are all but Imperial Provinces already. Allia now wishes to join. Paida is supported by Iliyal. We can assume that the promise she had made for support is that Rancais will join.” And Agrita got to the fifth member of the Coalition, Rilia. “And so we stand alone.”

Aimone nodded. “It’s impossible to miss.” He said heavily and tilted his head towards the monitor. “But what Aliana has said is correct and it applies to us just as much as it applies to her. We must pick a side.”

Agrita raised an eyebrow. She didn’t really have an issue with that. Countries came and went but people stayed. And what was good for her people would be good for her. “Are you thinking of joining Arascus?”

“I am.” Aimone confirmed. “But I have only stipulation there, and it’s a task for you.”

“What is that?”

“Get me a direct line to Arascus himself and not to Iliyal or Malam or Helenna.”

“Why not?”

“Well we’ve seen what happens when Arascus takes over a nation. The populace is unhurt but…” Aimone looked around the room. “Well, let’s be honest, the executioner’s axe rests over my head, does it not?”

“That it does.” Niccolo affirmed.

Agrita thought on how to get a message to Arascus. She wished she had actually asked for the God’s number from Fer or Kavaa when she had the chance. “Agrita?” Aimone spoke asked again, his tone sad and depressed.

“Hmm?”

“Honestly, I mean it. Don’t make it a humiliation like Richard’s deal but let’s not be like Wissel either.” Agrita smiled and shook her head.

“Do you know what the difference is with the people in this room compared to Allia?” Agrita asked. Everyone looked as if they expected her to answer her own question, so she didn’t keep them hanging. “We actually like each other.” Agrita said with a light laugh. “Do not worry, I’ll negotiate something.”

With Arascus preferably, but frankly, couldn’t she do Malam and Helenna either?

After all, how hard could it be?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep