"Ugh..."
The King of Scotland, Jas VI.
Now also the "joint" King of England, Jas I, was suffering from the endless stream of paperwork.
This wasn't what he had expected...
In Scotland, being a king ant being just one among many powerful lords, a first among equals at best. The fractious Scottish nobility had always tested him, challenged him, and sotis openly defied him. He had learned to navigate their ambitions through cunning and compromise, never truly commanding absolute obedience.
Scotland was already smaller than England, and with such insignificant royal authority, he had always coveted the English throne.
Once Elizabeth died, that position would be mine. Once she disappeared, that seat would be entirely mine...
"From now on, I wish to make you the joint King of England. I will also divide the resources from the New World in half."
"...Ughhhh."
"Your Majesty, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, leave ."
"But, Your Majesty..."
"Leave . It's my request."
"..."
Creeeeak.
Thud.
The door closed, and the attendants withdrew.
Then, alone in the room, he silently sobbed. He gritted his teeth and pounded the table.
"Elizabeth, that Babylonian harlot..."
I should never have accepted that proposal. I knew what sches that witch might devise, yet I fell into her trap.
It was vexing enough that she called it "joint rule" and then fled alone to Arica. (Of course, he had tried to kill Elizabeth. Isn't that what politics is all about?)
More than anything, he detested how she created this ambiguous situation and then played innocent.
The resources from the New World that she had promised continued to arrive steadily.
However, those resources were mostly spent on persuading and mobilizing loyalists within England as soon as they arrived.
Naturally, this too was due to the situation she had created. She must have anticipated this.
anwhile, he had to suppress the rebellion in Ireland, worry about the war with Spain, and consider the movents of France and other European countries...
All those duties fell solely on him.
And Elizabeth? Who knows. She's probably enjoying an (openly public) tryst with that Raleigh fellow across the Atlantic. Building a magnificent mansion with all the resources Jas himself had sent.
'How long... must I continue this charade?'
Until Elizabeth... dies? When would that woman die?
She seed extrely healthy.
Wasn't there also a saint by her side? I heard she even receives personal health care.
How many more years does she intend to live?
"..."
Before he knew it, he was about to crumple and tear the docunt before him. Jas carefully placed the docunt back on the desk, sighed, and continued signing.
And...
"The taste of lobster is truly exquisite. Margaret, please help yourself!"
"I-I am honored..."
Jas's prediction was exactly right.
Elizabeth was experiencing the best monts of her life.
Free from frequent work and late sleep schedules, Elizabeth's health was improving day by day.
She enjoyed bowling, fishing, and hunting at her newly built mansion, and occasionally toured the island to admire the diverse scenery of the New World.
However.
"Is there any reason why I must stay here? According to the treaty, all English people should be free to travel throughout the Emperor's territory."
Elizabeth had to remain confined to Roanoke Island without knowing why.
Occasionally, she visited various uninhabited areas near Pamlico Sound with Raleigh to observe alligator herds and go hunting and on outings, but she still found it strange.
They only visited places without people, or places where only English people were present.
As if there was sothing to hide...
"I would like to et the 'Emperor' as well. I'm curious about his palace and what his empire is like."
"...Your Majesty, please wait a little longer."
"I don't know how many tis I've heard that reply."
Bang!
As Elizabeth fired her gun, a deer lost strength and collapsed. That would be dinner tonight.
"I'm starting to get... bored. Tell the Emperor that if he has nothing to hide from , I would like to be treated properly as a monarch of an allied nation, not as a prisoner."
"...Of course."
Elizabeth detected hesitation and deception in Raleigh's response but showed no reaction.
Raleigh also knew that his intentions had been seen through Elizabeth's gaze, but similarly did not reveal it.
The two simply sat quietly opposite each other, smoking tobacco and passing ti.
That evening's dinner was a pie made with venison and potatoes.
After dinner, Raleigh paid his respects to his sovereign and left Roanoke Island.
Elizabeth tilted her head as she watched Raleigh board the ship with sowhat excited eyes.
What is he hiding?
Another woman...?
That doesn't seem right.
==
No matter how little I know about history, there's one thing I can say with absolute confidence.
Absolutely, as far as I know, there was never any history where Elizabeth crossed over to Roanoke Island to enjoy a leisurely retirent.
...
...
...
But what does it matter?
What does "as far as I know" matter? As far as I know, the Roanoke colony failed, and there was never an incident where saints receiving angel's commands cured the plague.
Let's just accept it outright.
Goodbye, my catalog. Goodbye, my limited historical knowledge.
It seems both of you have beco completely useless now.
...Well, famous figures might still be born, right? Strictly speaking, since I've been transported into a ga, notable people would probably still be born as if they were NPCs.
Yeah.
So far, only a little more than 10 years have passed! No one knows yet how far the butterfly effect of history will reach!
Let's be optimistic! Whatever happens from now on, things will work out sohow!
"Nemo. It seems trade with England will beco sowhat difficult."
"...Pardon? What's happening, Walter?"
"After the rebellion, things are chaotic, and for now, we're sending goods to Scotland instead, but they seem barely able to handle our volu."
"..."
"More than anything, Ireland has beco semi-independent, so we're struggling to avoid hostile ships. Of course, we can evade them to so extent, but given the clipper's characteristics, it takes ti to pick up speed."
"..."
What a ss.
When Spain gets an idiotic king, does England have to crash vertically to maintain balance?
Is this God's balancing that re human ga designers dare not approach?
Whatever. I raised my head to look at the ceiling and shook my head.
Reviews
All reviews (0)