In the stands by the field, she sat. This would be, in a way, the last peace she would know for a long time, so she wished to appreciate it. A loud peace, full of shouts and screams, the odd thump of a leather ball kicked, the common thump of two men colliding.

The foreign Prince had not been wrong to recommend sports. This was, to her, a better understanding of battles than any book. Such tactics used had to have been practised beforehand, ingrained enough that, in the middle of such chaos, a single word or phrase was enough to pull them together, no room for any signals more complicated than that.

And this was only a few dozen men.

Her militia had settled at a thousand men, albeit in rotations, and even that was a number incomprehensible to her. It was natural to know a stride, to know that a man took up about that much space when standing side-by-side with another, and she could even count to a thousand if she had such a need.

However, when she looked out upon the field, letting her gaze slide across the landscape beyond, she had no intuition of a thousand paces. Some men did. Among her bombardiers, there were those who had a good grasp of distance and, with refinement and practice, used that talent in choosing angles and measuring out gunpowder.

The Romans spoke of such large battles that she had a sincere doubt at first, yet the truth became self-evident in the sheer scale of supplies such armies required. It was no wonder they became masters of building roads, that they required so many literate people, wrote so many reports. Great battles that may well have breached a hundred thousand between both sides.

Half that number, arranged fifty deep, a thousand paces across—she could hardly consider such a force, how it would stretch across the landscape, a distant blur of colours and glinting metal. Five thousand… she had seen that amount and it already seemed an absurd amount of men, inconceivable that there was anything which such a force could not accomplish.

And she had seen five hundred men lay dead.

Closing her eyes, she covered her face, a moment of anguish which soon faded.

“My Lady?”

She raised her other hand and whispered, “I caught a glint from the sun, nothing more.”

Her maid did not press the matter.

While her father had focused on the tools of war, she had looked to how to bring these tools of war to the enemy, which had led her to bricks. The use of bricks had vast applications beyond her initial thoughts.

Of course, bricks made for wonderful roads, which were easier to march on and easier for horses to pull wagons of supplies along. That much was a given, yet vital. People and horses required food based on time, not distance travelled, and more food required more wagons to pull the food, more horses to pull these wagons—and more food to feed these horses. The same was true for merchants. With better roads, the merchants wasted less food on feeding horses, which meant more goods could be brought.

Bricks were also used for buildings. At first, it had not been obvious to her the importance of this. She simply saw bricks as a way to reliably produce buildings which would last a significant time with minimal repairs. This was not cheap, but cost was a rather unimportant factor in her designs.

Or rather, with how she looked at things, cost was everything as it ultimately came down to labour. The purpose of labour was the betterment of everyone. Thus, by reducing how much labour a certain work required, or increasing how much labour a single person may perform, everyone so benefited.

Not everything could be exactly known. However, she had suspicions. Bricks were not simply better for long-lasting buildings, but their regular design helped avoid drafts, as well as appearing to simply hold the heat better. That meant less firewood would be needed for the winter, which meant more charcoal for the smiths, which meant more iron tools, which meant more spinning wheels, which meant more woollen clothes and blankets, which meant less charcoal for heating.

Which meant more iron and steel for weapons and armour.

“Ah, Lady Augstadt—”

Even before he had finished speaking, she was on her feet and giving a curtsey, her eyes hidden behind the brim of her hat as she bowed her head. “Your Royal Highness, my most humble greetings.”

With half a laugh in his voice, he raised a hand and said, “Be at ease. As wonderful as this event may be, I would hardly call it suitable for such formalities.”

“If there should be a place without formalities, I would think neither myself nor Sir would be present,” she said lightly, raising her hat such that she met his gaze as she spoke, a smile lingering on her lips, then her gaze slid over. “Nor would Sir’s acquaintances be there either, I am sure.”

The small group of gentlemen behind the Prince rather enjoyed her words, chuckling and laughing, and Count Styria stepped forwards to give his own greeting on behalf of himself and the others. “My Lady has put on a fine show,” he said to finish.

At which her eyes narrowed even as her smile remained unperturbed. “Although I appreciate the compliment, it should be noted that, this time, I only arranged for a smaller affair a few days prior. The mayor has overseen these general festivities for the commoners.”

While Styria was rather talented in showing no change of expression, the same could not be said of his companions, including the Prince, who turned to rib him, both with words and elbows. She tittered at this raucous bunch, very much clear to her that their schooling had forged such strong bonds between them.

However, it was not lost on her that, in what she had read, such bonds came about in war; she shuddered at the thought of a schooling comparable to war.

“Well, let us disturb My Lady no more,” the Prince said and went to step away, tipping his hat.

“If I may take but a moment of Sir’s time,” she said, her gaze trapping him in place.

The two stood still, then Styria was the one to break the silence. “Pray do not keep him too long as he is unaccustomed to a woman’s company,” he said, quickly followed by a rougher laugh than earlier.

Friedrich turned sharply at the comment, yet it was her who replied first. “While my guests are free to talk as they wish in private, pray do keep in mind this is not such a place,” she said, her smile soft and eyes warm and words oh so cold, which all changed the moment she turned to the Prince. “My most sincere apologies, Prince Friedrich.”

As she went to curtsey once more, he held up a hand, a slight shake of his head. “What apology is necessary from My Lady? Lord Styria meant no harm,” he said, his smile crooked.

“I understand Sir is upset, but there is no need to criticise Lord Styria so harshly. Marquess Bavaria shall suitably educate him, I am sure,” she said, no trace of lightness nor humour in her voice.

Yet the Prince saw it in her eyes. “Indeed, I should leave it to his superior. One mustn’t overstep,” he said, to then spare a glance at his companion—and finding the look on Styria’s face as amusing as he had hoped.

“A moment, then?” she asked, tilting her head.

“How could I deny my host? Please,” he said, gesturing.

While his acquaintances shuffled over to give the two space, taking the seats on the other side of the box, she returned to her place and he stepped up to sit beside her. These were not cramped seats, albeit more austere than usual for people of their standing, and there was a suitable distance between the two.

“One wonders if My Lady has more messages to pass on to King Otto.”

Although it was not necessary for her to read into how he had said such a sentence, the situation of her southern neighbour something she was of course keenly aware of, it nevertheless contributed further to her understanding. A touch more distant, yet less strained. As if there had been a compromise in his heart.

However, such a topic was not what she had in mind. “I have already sent a letter to say I hope to move through with a small force in the coming summer. If that goes well, I might well inquire about building an additional road,” she said, ending with a chuckle.

“Is that so….”

“I understand that Sir would think I have intentions in conversing,” she said, her tone level, yet quiet—fragile. “It is not often I should have such esteemed company, at least not in recent years.”

Silence followed for a few seconds, his brow touched by a wrinkle, only for his eyes to ever so slightly widen. “The coming summer should be when Prince Hector marries.”

Although it was not a question, her mouth quirked into an ironic smile and she whispered, “Indeed. I think it is understandable, and for the best, that I shall not be attending.”

The alluded-to matter was not insignificant. Even he, very much his elder brother’s spare, had been thoroughly informed of it, all the more so as he had been part of Hector’s social circle until recent years.

“What plans has My Lady to the south?” he asked and his voice now had a certain gentleness to it.

“I wonder? Well, of course it is nothing secretive, rather that I would not boast of my achievements before achieving them. To put it simply, I would like to encourage trade from those Venetian ports.”

Out on the field, distant, yet their shouts made them seem so near, the men tumbled and wrestled, often seeming that the ball itself was of less importance. However, the years had seen fit to refine the game. Rather than a swarm madly chasing the ball and fighting for its possession, there was a structure to the chaos, all about denying or opening space. There was no cavalry charge, nor flooding a break in the line to flank the enemy, yet it held an essence of warfare to it.

Life was serendipitous. What began as a small question to bring a guest into a conversation, became an event if only to leave an impression on the aforementioned guest, only to gradually reveal a greater purpose.

Both her parents, in their own capacity to teach her, had told her such. That, as a ruler, she had both a need to listen to others and to entertain their ideas, while also remaining firm on those areas where current ideas were unsuitable. One had to embrace both change and tradition.

“It does appear that My Lady is rather interested in trade,” he said.

She let a smile touch her lips. “Sir should know that my mother’s family are merchants, so I know well their cruelty. Cold and calculating people who believe themselves better than the commoner they take advantage of. The kind of people who rejoice hearing there is a famine or flood or other catastrophe.

“However, trade is another matter. If we each have a surplus of something which the other desires, it is natural that we would trade some and both be satisfied with the outcome. Merchants do not understand this. To them, it is a virtue to argue and threaten because they see their richness as God’s blessing. So I have taken to intervening in some of these matters, that I am not so easily bullied, and may fund the trade without involving merchants.”

Pausing there, she covered her mouth and let out a titter before then continuing. “My apologies, Sir. I rather do have a habit of speaking too much. Alas, I have recently spent much time with those who would listen to me rather than speak up.”

Although a few seconds passed in silence, there was no awkwardness in either’s expression and, once he spoke, he spoke with a gentle tone. “I would not disparage My Lady with those words. She has shown herself to be a good neighbour and a good sister, which I do sincerely mean. King Otto is pleased to have such a neighbour. Rather, I spoke in curiosity of My Lady’s interests and I am thankful to hear her thoughts. She has a nuanced understanding which, I dare say, few others in her position may match.”

“Sir flatters me. I am simply fulfilling the position I came into this world to fulfil, much as Sir is. Even if this sport is not a matter of war, Sir has done a wonderful thing to craft it, that it brings men and boys alike to build their virtues.”

He let out a hollow chuckle, hand coming up to cover his mouth until the ironic smile faded. “Please, do share what such virtues these men are building?” he asked, humour in his voice.

She loosely gestured at the distant teams scrapping it out. “Is it not evident?” she asked, then clapped her hands together. “Camaraderie, loyalty, friendship—need I go on?”

“I would ask My Lady to continue out of curiosity of how many words she has to say the same thing,” he said, a hint of wryness to his tone that showed in his smile.

“If they meant the same thing, there would be no need for more of them. As it is, of course there is a difference, however slight it might be.”

A sharp laugh slipped out before he could catch it. Reminded of the last time they both sat together, watching the sport, he again thought of how he wished to inflict her upon his acquaintances.

“My Lady is not one who achieves little. Pray tell, what else interesting has she planned with her trading?” he asked.

The return to the previous topic, although unexpected, was still to a topic she had a lot to talk about. “Well, I suppose Sir would be most interested by the roads. The Romans—from antiquity, not the Greeks—had rather refined how to build roads so very well. However, good roads are only half of it. I have been tasking people of talent to refine the wagon. It may sound fanciful, yet a wagon must, before it carries any goods, carry itself. Thus, a lighter wagon which more easily moves would be a great benefit. If only it should be so simple, though, as the mountainous terrain south should require a different design than the smoother roads to the surrounding farmland and to the capital.”

“The wagon itself…” he half-asked, half-muttered, thinking aloud.

“I should not take the credit for the thought. After all, there has been some interest by King Ferdinand for light carriages which may reach quite the speeds along the flat plains beside the Ebro, if only so that he may further boast of his fine horses,” she said, ending with a few notes of laughter.

He chuckled too, his hands settling on his lap. “My Lady is well-informed.”

“If that much is enough to impress Sir, should I not mentioned Sir’s visit there?”

His laugh this time came out stronger, yet still only lasted a moment, punctuated by a deep breath. “While watching the carriages race certainly provided a sense of wonder, I would still prefer to ride those magnificent steeds myself. Perhaps, if my country had more suitable terrain for it, I would not find myself needing to seek faraway entertainment so often.”

“Oh, I am sure we could accommodate Sir. There should be some grazing land left to grow through the summer near the border that could be suitable,” she said, hedging her tone with a hint of a question.

“My Lady is too generous. How could I impose?” he said, a lightness to his voice.

Her expression showed a polite smile, her hands equally polite in how they rested on her lap. “If Sir has a desire to race horses, and I have a desire to encourage my noble subjects to take up the hobby, is it not natural to trade?”

A moment passed, then he hung his head, back of his hand over his mouth as he hid his amused smile. “My Lady had posed a rather interesting question to me before. If she has forgotten, she asked—”

“Would Sir rather a complete, albeit costly victory, or a more modest victory with minor losses?”

His lips curled. “Indeed, something to that effect. At the time, I gave a rather lacking answer, unprepared for it. However, it is something that has kept me up some nights, both simple, yet profound. So I would present My Lady with a more suitable answer, that I may at last be freed from this accursed question.”

“Please, Sir, there is no need to consider anything I say too deeply. I am uneducated on many matters and find the best way for myself to learn is to ask abstract questions, then consider the answers given and who gave them. After all, one is given a rather different answer on warfare whether asking a knight or a carpenter.”

As prepared as he had been, her reply made him falter, once again doubting his answer. After a moment’s anguish, he pushed through regardless. “Wisdom cares not for the speaker. I found My Lady’s question compelling, so I have been thus compelled if she would now listen.

“The crux of the matter ultimately comes down to a most simple conclusion. If I had an army, I would prefer one that is rather disciplined and compact, for there is no reason in bringing along men who eat rations only to run at the mere sight of a man on a horse. Such an army is not easily built, though. There might be times when battling against another well-trained force, in which case it would be worthwhile to chip away at their army, yet….”

She patiently waited, only spurring him on after many seconds. “Yet?”

“It is perhaps because of my country’s position that I consider our neighbours… of course not as enemies, but there is an assurance in having strength. While I am truly confident the Empire would honour our pact, help would be perhaps a month away and one cannot know how far away an enemy is until they are upon one’s threshold.”

She gently nodded along as he spoke, then glanced over at his silence—only to find his gaze upon her.

“My Lady knows this well, which is why my father is glad to have her as a neighbour.”

With a small smile for a reply, she turned over her hand. “I have surely kept Sir long enough. Pray enjoy the festivities,” she said softly.

Standing up, he gave her a small smile too, as well as a tip of his hat. “My Lady should enjoy her coming summer.”

Life was truly serendipitous, she thought.