“Pack your winter clothes, you’ll need it,” Estelle suggested.

“Could you lend me some of yours?”

“I’m a size too big. Should we go shopping?”

“Good idea. Katalina would need some too.”

“Indeed, My Lord. I am lacking in winter clothes.”

“Shopping. Get changed then.”

And off they went. Riding a carriage on a rocky road into town. The three sisters, and an unrelated woman. Still, it wasn’t a stretch to say that 3 of the best fighters were there.

“By the way, Katalina,” Estelle began. “Are you still using your left hand?”

“Of course. Sadly that’s the only way I can enjoy fights now.”

“Hah! Familiar with the curse of strength, are you now? After this, let's have a match.”

“But that’s my technique...” Elise muttered.

The three engaged in a deep conversation of swordsmanship. Of course, Frances didn’t understand it. They may as well have been speaking in a foreign language.

Atop the cobblestone roads, the horse neighed. Houses of red slanted roofs, chimneys billowing smoke and steam, the smell of freshly baked bread. Orange leaves swayed in the wind, reaching the end of their lifespans.

They stopped in front of a boutique. It housed a relatively famous designer, well known for his coats. Hunting, adventuring, even outdoor tea parties in cold winters for masochists. He had at least one for each occasion.

“Good day!” a staff member shouted out from another room.

“Holy shit, the emperor’s family?” a worker shouted out as he walked in to serve.

“I’d quite appreciate it if you kept quiet about this.”

“I-I apologise for my crude language Your Majesty.” His voice quivered. The staff members all gathered in a deep, 90 degree bow.

“Let’s just keep this on the down low. Winter clothes, for the 4 of us please.”

Estelle and Elise headed into the fitting room first. They picked a classy design, jet black and sleek. It had a highly modern design, and by modern, that meant modern to Frances.

“How do I look?” Elise pulled the curtain over. Her hands shoved into her pockets, she was a model straight out of a magazine. Perhaps she could have slung a rifle over her shoulder.

“Absolutely amazing. Try putting your sword behind you,” said Frances.

“I like the sound of that. I’ll take... Maybe 5, similar designs to this please.”

“Does it have pockets?”

“Yes! That’s the best part about this.”

“Haha, brilliant. I can see that she’s thrown her own seasoning into this.”

“Her?”

“Oh, Amelia. She’s the largest investor in this place.”

Elise nodded. The two older sisters bought the same designs. Well, that made sense. With similar builds and the same size, it was convenient for them both. Meanwhile, Katalina looked at herself in the mirror.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“It looks great on you, Katalina,” commented Frances.

“Not combat viable. The joints are too tight.”

“Ah come on. It looks good. Do you really need to think about fighting every time?”

“Yes.” Her voice was low, calm, and serious.

With a sigh, Frances nodded. Katalina returned to the fitting room, and walked out with an efficient but not really aesthetically pleasing coat. Tight around the waist and chest, specifically for armour padding. She practised pulling her sword, and nodded with satisfaction.

“Your turn, dear empress.” Estelle chuckled.

“I trust that you know me well enough to pick it out for me. We’ll leave in three weeks.”

“We’re waiting that long?”

“I have to hurry back to the capital immediately. The earlier I finish all my work, the more time we have there.”

“Urg fine. But we’ll have to spend a lot of time together, okay? Rayleighs, not empress.”

Katalina and Frances returned back to the capital. The carriage ride was uneventful. No assassination attempts, no ‘accidents’ caused by misplaced rocks, nothing. The empress made her way back to her study. Servants bowed their heads, perhaps only out of obligation. Perhaps more to the honourable knight behind her.

The reactions to the war results were mixed. Some managed to see the point of fracturing and crushing the empire of Loyra, while others simmered in anger. They wanted complete subjugation, not a brief invasion. Certainly, there were radicals that wished to occupy the lands altogether.

Sentiments towards the ruling couple were the same. Some admired the strength that they showed, whilst others reeled back from the vicious rule. Though, the fact remained. Empress Haein was far more popular than her counterpart. The history behind the Rayleigh name did not help that fact.

“Your Majesty.” He saluted with parade ground standards.

“Speak.”

Frances only shot a single glance at the armoured man. Purely ceremonial, of course. No one would ever wear that for comfort, and it showed on his face. The empress turned her attention back to the paperwork at hand.

“And relax, will you?”

“Very well, Your Majesty.” His hand fell back to his sides. “There are reports of mercenaries heading into Friaren territory. This includes the Black Wolves, Tin-Haj & Co., Reystov’s Crew, and the Red Right Eye.”

“Is that so? Perhaps their standing army is weaker than anticipated. Increase endurance training for the soldiers, and get them used to the cold.”

“Are you thinking of going to war again, Your Majesty?”

“It's purely defensive. Their navy threatened to invade us while we were dealing with Loyra.”

“Very well, Your Majesty.”

The head of the knights nodded. He walked off, and closed the door behind him. Frances learned from history. Though in her previous life, she never specialised in it. Osmosis ensured information travelled through. A knock arrived at the door before long.

“Come in.”

“Your Majesty. I’m afraid that due to a complete lack of manpower, we cannot produce the winter gear in time.”

“Any estimate?”

“At our current level of production, we would need months.”

“Duly noted. Carry on, and wait to see if I can allocate more resources.”

There was a commotion outside as he left. A short figure shoved past him as knights tried to restrain her. She pushed them off, and wriggled out of their hold. The guards shouted, and bowed their heads for a brief moment before the fighting resumed.

“Guys, stop. Amelia, what do you want?”

“Holy fuck! These guys are insane.”

“Do not use such crude language in the presence of Her Majesty!”

“I don’t care. Calm yourself, Amelia. The rest of you guys, get out.”

With grumbles, the knights left. The only ones left in the room were Amelia, and the empress herself. The blonde steadied her breath, but her body betrayed her. Her hands shook. Fear? Excitement? It was excitement. The glint in her eyes made itself known. That, or the constant pumping of adrenaline.

“You need to give us land!”

“Christ, calm down and explain yourself.”

“Right, right.” Amelia cleared her throat. “Yesterday, just before you returned, our combined scouts and surveyors made an amazing discovery.”

“And you just got the news.”

“Indeed. They found coal. And a copious amount of that too. I am planning on heading out there to get a scale of it myself.”

“Good. We can begin industrialisation.”