Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Chapter 152 Cause and Effect

George sighed deeply, a sigh that carried the weight of twenty years. "That happened in 1383. King Wenceslaus's beloved dog killed the Queen, and from then on, the King began to indulge himself, holding banquets and balls every day."

He paused, as if piecing together fragments of memory. "Your mother, Serena, was just sixteen then, the most beautiful girl in Prague. She received an invitation to the court ball."

Peter noticed that George's right hand kept opening and closing as he narrated, as if reflecting his inner struggle.

"A few months later, she excitedly told us that she had met the love of her life." A bitter smile appeared on George's lips. "She said that her lover was of such high status that even our Seidleitz family paled in comparison. My father and I sensed something was wrong and advised her to stay away from the court, but it was too late."

Thunder roared again, louder than before, as if the gods in the heavens were listening to this secret.

"When the news of her pregnancy could no longer be kept secret, we went to the King." George's voice lowered. "His Majesty Wenceslaus neither confirmed nor denied it. He just stammered and avoided answering."

Peter felt a wave of dizziness. "You mean... I'm the king's illegitimate son?"

“We think so,” George said cautiously, “but your mother died shortly after giving birth to you, taking the final answer with her.”

Peter's mind raced through medieval European history. William the Conqueror, Grand Prince Hazard of Serbia... an illegitimate child wasn't entirely without a chance. If that were true, then he might indeed have a claim to the Bohemian throne.

Holy crap, this is a huge perk for time travelers!

"His Majesty the King was only 29 years old at the time, in the prime of his life. A few years later, he married Princess Sofia, the daughter of the powerful Duke of Munich. Your identity is a stain, and also fatal. We originally wanted you to live a healthy and ordinary life like a commoner. That's why we deliberately chose to distance ourselves and ignore you."

"But who could have imagined that His Majesty Wenceslaus and Queen Sofia had no children after ten years of marriage? And Queen Sofia was extremely jealous and domineering. Seven years ago, von Polgao learned this secret while reviewing the royal records."

George continued heavily, "Von Polgar came to see your grandfather in person. He said that Queen Sofia is jealous and would kill you if she knew of your existence. The King, relying on the Duke of Munich's army, would never turn against the Queen for a bastard child. As a price for secrecy, he demanded a low price to buy Trotsky Castle and its surrounding villages."

"Ten thousand groschens," George's voice was laced with suppressed anger, "that they're only willing to offer ten thousand groschens for this castle and its territory—such a humiliating price! If it weren't for you, why would we have agreed to such a deal?"

Peter remained silent. His gaze was fixed on the flames in the fireplace, watching the firewood slowly turn to ash. For so many years, he had believed himself to be alone, unaware of the complex entanglements that lay behind him.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Peter asked.

“Because I want you to know what the family has done for you!” George’s expression became complicated. “And now, things have changed. King Wenceslaus is imprisoned, and Queen Sofia has been childless for ten years. The succession to the throne has become the most pressing issue.” He swallowed hard. “Someone is deliberately purging His Majesty Wenceslaus’s bloodline.”

Do you know Johannes Václav?

"have no idea."

"He is the illegitimate son of the king and a maid."

"Heh~"

"But he died. The four-year-old boy was found in the wilderness, dug out of the mud by wolves, and there were strangulation marks on the boy's neck."

A chill ran down Peter's spine. This wasn't a simple lordly dispute; it was a conspiracy over the succession to the throne. How could someone be so cruel as to kill a child!

"I think I understand why I was attacked by Yampolgao in Troski," Peter said in a deep voice.

"We suspect the caravan leader was bribed. The original destination was a closer quarry, but he deliberately took a longer route to Troski. By the time Father realized something was wrong, it was too late to warn you. But they underestimated you and the power within your blood!"

George suddenly perked up. He stood up and paced around the hall, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor.

"Peter, don't you understand what this means?" His voice trembled with emotion. "King Wenceslaus is imprisoned, has no legitimate heirs, and his other illegitimate children have been eliminated... You may be his only remaining bloodline!"

His eyes gleamed with a light Peter had never seen before, a flame a mixture of ambition and expectation.

"Why can't the bloodline of the Seidletz family sit on the throne of Bohemia?" George became more and more excited as he spoke. "We have reason to believe that those lords do not want to see the throne fall into the hands of Sigismund, the King of Hungary."

Peter calmly observed his uncle's changes. George's body language had completely changed—a straight back, a head held high, arms waving—all revealing the surging passion within him.

"Think about it, Peter! King of Bohemia! Our family will no longer be ordinary nobles, but a family related to the royal family by marriage!"

A piece of firewood in the fireplace burst open, sparks flying everywhere. Peter watched the sparks flicker and then die out, like the birth and death of countless ambitions and dreams in the world.

“So,” Peter said slowly, “Count Seidleitz sent you not to help me, but to invest in a potential king.”

That's your maternal grandfather!

George's smile froze on his face. "How could you say that? This is the Seidleitz family's opportunity, and it's your opportunity too!"

Peter gripped his wine glass tighter. He loathed this kind of political maneuvering, this game that treated people as pawns.

In the world before his transmigration, he had witnessed far too many people betraying family and friendship for power. Now, is this scene about to repeat itself?

"Power, bloodline, throne..." Peter's voice was low. "These things are far less precious to me than the grateful smile of a peasant."

George looked at him incredulously. "Are you crazy? You'd rather be a country lord than fight for the crown of Bohemia?"

I'd rather be myself.

Peter stood up, the rain still pounding against the window. "I won't be anyone's pawn, anyone's puppet. Everything I want, I will take with my own hands!"

Rainwater immediately rushed into the hall with the wind, wetting his face. The cool raindrops made him even more awake.

"You're insane!" George roared.

"Thank you for telling me this, Sir George."

Peter's earlier feelings of kinship vanished. He turned, his figure appearing exceptionally tall in the flash of lightning. "Thank you for your kindness, Count Seidleitz. But I do not need your cavalry's assistance."

George stared in shock, his eyes wide. "Do you know what you're saying? Do you know how many troops your enemy has amassed? Without my cavalry, how do you expect to win?"

Peter gave a mocking smile. "Then let's go see what's going on with your elite cavalry."

He strode out of the castle's banquet hall, and George hurriedly followed. The two walked through the corridor and into the castle's inner courtyard. The sight before him made George gasp.

In the pouring rain, the Seidletz family cavalry had been disarmed; their armor had been removed and piled to one side, their hands bound behind their backs. Peter's warriors, including John the Big Mouth, Tomcat, and Conrad, stood with their swords drawn, rain streaming down their armor.

"What...what's going on?" George stammered.

Peter calmly replied, "As you can see, the cavalry you brought have been subdued."

In the advantageous terrain of the castle, several master swordsmen, along with many times the number of heavily armored soldiers, dealt with a group of unsuspecting dismounted cavalry, and the battle ended quickly.

George turned to Peter, his face filled with disbelief. "You planned this all along? You intended to treat us like this the moment I entered the castle?"

"Necessary precautions," Peter said calmly. "I cannot leave any uncertainties in the castle before we set out."

He waved for his men to begin taking the prisoners to the dungeon. George noticed that, despite the resolute process, Peter's men did not treat the prisoners roughly, and even provided cloaks to the wounded cavalrymen to shield them from the rain.

"You're going to lock them in the dungeon?" George's voice trembled.

“They will be given food and drink, and they will be treated with respect,” Peter said, “but they must remain there until I return. You are different, Sir George; you will be confined to a guest room in the castle.”

George's expression shifted from shock to anger. "You're going to imprison me? Your own uncle?"

Peter's gaze passed over George and landed on the castle gate. "I need to ensure Trotsky's safety, and yours as well." His voice softened. "We'll continue this conversation when I return."

Rain streamed down Peter's red hair, and his face appeared resolute and determined in the dim light. At that moment, George seemed to see the shadow of his sister Selena—that stubbornness that once she made up her mind, she would never look back.

Peter turned to John the Big Mouth, "Take good care of our guests. Lay plenty of hay in the dungeon, and provide enough food and water."

"Yes, sir!" John the Big Mouth replied respectfully.

Conrad led his soldiers over and said in a low voice, "Sir, everything is ready, and the Griffin Guard can depart at any time."

Peter nodded, gave George one last look, and turned to walk toward the armory. His steps were steady and without the slightest hesitation. Eighty heavily armored Griffin Guards awaited him; they would ride in carriages through the rain to launch a surprise attack on Itchin Castle, catching the enemy completely off guard.

The rain intensified, turning the world into a white expanse, as if the entire world had been submerged. But Peter knew that this rain not only concealed danger but also harbored opportunity.