Episode 90
The opulent residence of the King of France.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow, but the atmosphere inside was anything but cheerful.
On the surface, everything seemed amicable, but it was clear that beneath the facade, tensions simmered.
Nothing would change. Denying it now would be pointless, as the other side likely shared the same thoughts.
”…It’s been quite a tumultuous day, hasn’t it?”
The sound of wine pouring filled the room as Philip II, with a slightly awkward smile, filled his glass to the brim.
“If I’m not careful, I might spill it. Today’s meeting felt just like this.”
“It was rather intense, indeed.”
“The nobles who attended must have been quite shocked. What do you think will happen to the Viscount of Limoges?”
“Considering King Richard’s temperament, it’s unlikely he’ll survive.”
Given the magnitude of his blunder, surviving would be nothing short of a miracle. People were more interested in what would happen to the Viscount’s lands, though most assumed Richard would simply seize them.
“But it seemed like our prophet here knew how things would unfold all along…”
Philip II sipped his wine slowly, watching me closely.
I considered denying it, but this was Philip II. Any clumsy lie would be easily exposed, so it seemed wiser to be somewhat open and hear what he wanted to say.
“Why do you think that?”
“Your reaction was noticeably different from the other nobles. And as soon as you returned to your estate, King Richard changed his stance completely. Just from these two facts, it’s easy to deduce that you had significant influence in resolving this incident.”
“So you were convinced after the meeting started?”
“To be precise, I was 90% sure before, and it became 100% during the meeting. You’re not denying it, I see.”
It was clear that this man knew everything even before the meeting began. That’s why he pinned all the blame on the count and had him executed.
“When did you start suspecting?”
“If I tell you, will you answer my question? It’s not something that would be considered blasphemous, is it?”
“Of course not.”
I needed to gauge Philip II’s level of understanding for future dealings with France. He might reveal some of his cards, but he was likely just as curious as I was, so I decided to engage in the conversation.
As expected, Philip II smiled and began to speak.
“Before we continue, could you confirm one thing for me? It’ll help the conversation flow naturally. Did you hint to King Richard that I was the culprit?”
“No, I didn’t. People often misunderstand, but God doesn’t provide detailed instructions. All I heard was that it wasn’t the Holy Roman Empire, but France, and I relayed that information. I stepped back to avoid appearing biased in international matters.”
“Is that so? I suppose if you mentioned France, suspicion would naturally fall on me. I can see how much God favors you. It’s truly remarkable.”
Philip II nodded seriously, his smile gone, seemingly genuinely impressed.
To avoid contradictions in the fabricated story, I decided to change the subject.
“Fortunately, Your Majesty found the real culprit. This could have been a major setback otherwise.”
“Indeed. When I heard you had returned to your estate, I focused all my attention. I expected you to determine whether England or the Holy Roman Empire was at fault. But when things remained unusually quiet, and King Richard showed no movement, I suspected something was amiss.”
So he activated Plan B, thinking his trail might have been discovered.
I understood now how Philip II operated. But was it really so easy to alter a plan entirely, sacrificing a noble and seizing his lands, based on mere suspicion?
How many rulers in Europe could orchestrate such a scheme? None came to mind besides Philip II. Even expanding the scope to the Middle East, the comparison held. If Saladin was the ideal ruler, walking a righteous path, Philip II was someone who wouldn’t hesitate to use cunning plans when necessary.
While it’s hard to say which is more admirable, Philip II was undoubtedly the more dangerous adversary. It was best not to antagonize someone capable of such machinations.
I had considered making a move if there was any weakness, but it seemed I needed to revise my plans.
However, I also needed to ensure that he understood the consequences of crossing me.
If this incident had instilled that understanding in Philip II, then I couldn’t ask for more.
“Your Majesty, then you…”
Until the wine in our glasses was nearly gone, Philip II and I continued our conversation, probing each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
As we talked without pause, the sun began to set.
“Your Majesty, I’ve safely escorted the prophet back.”
“Good work.”
In the dimming room, Philip II turned his inscrutable gaze from the empty seat before him.
“Count Dreux, don’t just stand there. Come and sit.”
“No, I’m comfortable standing here.”
Sitting across from the king meant facing a barrage of difficult and complex questions. Knowing this, the count insisted on standing beside the king.
Philip II chuckled, running his fingers over his empty glass.
“What do you think of this whole affair?”
“Didn’t everything unfold just as Your Majesty predicted? At first, I wondered if it was necessary to target the Count of Boulogne, but now I’m simply in awe.”
“Yes, thanks to this, I’ve been able to advance my plans for the royal domain faster than expected. But still, it’s a bit disappointing.”
To his loyal followers, Philip II’s display of skill was nothing short of miraculous. Whether England and the Holy Roman Empire went to war or not, the king stood to gain by strengthening his authority.
With the support of the pro-royalist faction, there was no one in France who could challenge Philip II. He wielded power comparable to the pharaohs of ancient Egypt or the emperors of Rome.
Yet despite these achievements, Philip II’s expression remained somber.
Sensing something amiss, Count Dreux asked cautiously.
“Your Majesty, is there a problem?”
“A problem? Yes, you could call it that.”
“Everything went according to your plan. What could be the issue?”
Philip II silently tapped the table, staring at the seat where someone had been sitting moments ago.
Realizing who had occupied that seat, Count Dreux asked carefully.
“Is it because of Prophet Marshall?”
“Count Dreux, how much do you believe in the scriptures?”
“Excuse me?”
The unexpected question left the count wide-eyed.
“Of course, I believe in them. My faith is unwavering…”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to test your faith. I’m not particularly interested.”
Philip II wasn’t expecting any particular answer. In truth, he held a rather cynical view of religion. He believed in God and followed the scriptures, but didn’t take everything literally. Surely, some exaggeration was involved.
Among the stories he found most dubious were those of prophets who supposedly conversed with God. If such people truly existed, why hadn’t they appeared again in over a thousand years?
That was his belief—until Edward Marshall appeared.
Philip II clicked his tongue, muttering to himself.
“I was skeptical, but now I have no choice but to believe.”
Originally, Richard was supposed to draw his sword against the Holy Roman Empire, unaware of the truth. Being a seasoned warrior, he would likely have won, allowing Philip II to seize parts of the Holy Roman territory. Selling stockpiled supplies to England would also be financially rewarding.
And during the chaos of war, he could discreetly eliminate troublesome nobles, achieving multiple goals at once.
But this perfect plan was completely derailed by Marshall.
When Philip II heard of Marshall’s return, he couldn’t bring himself to proceed with the original plan.
What if Marshall, with his inexplicable powers, pointed the finger at him as the culprit? Everything would fall apart.
So, he devised a backup plan that would allow him to dodge responsibility while still reaping some benefits, and he pushed it forward.
In a way, he used this incident as a test to determine the authenticity of Marshall’s abilities.
And the results were clear.
Marshall, having just returned from faraway Jerusalem, quickly grasped the truth of the situation and offered advice to Richard.
Though he claimed not to know that Philip II himself was the true culprit, how much of that could be believed?
Perhaps, no, certainly, he knew everything.
“This is absurd. If it were a person, I could predict their moves, but with him, predictions are meaningless…”
No matter how meticulous the plan, if the divine voice itself intervenes, it all becomes pointless.
For the first time in his life, Philip II felt he had encountered an obstacle that even his abilities couldn’t overcome.
Whether Edward Marshall possessed powers on par with his own was still uncertain.
The only thing clear was that nothing good could come from provoking a prophet who could hear the voice of God.
Perhaps this was a far more valuable lesson than acquiring the County of Boulogne.
Philip II couldn’t tear his eyes away from the spot where Marshall had stood, long after he had gone.