Chapter 230 Traveling Through the Middle Ages 230

Chapter 230: Transmigration to the Middle Ages 230

Guillaume agreed not to let Queen Mother Anna publicly request him to grant a favor to his half-brother, Prince François. He would handle the matter himself—though from the perspective of the "King," it would be better for Louisa to deal with it. This would help avoid direct conflict between the King and the Queen Mother, leaving room for negotiation even in extreme cases. Under normal circumstances, it would also benefit Guillaume’s reputation.

After all, those in power often need to appear spotless, even if only superficially… hence the existence of so many “black gloves” and “white gloves”—figures who act covertly or overtly on behalf of others.

By stepping back at such times, turning the issue between the King and the Queen Mother into one between the Queen and the Queen Mother, the matter would seem less serious. Even leveraging the general underestimation of women, some might instinctively think, “It’s just a woman’s affair,” or “Typical mother-in-law and daughter-in-law tensions.”

There is no need to consider this dishonorable—it is simply a pragmatic approach based on weighing pros and cons. The reality is that Guillaume, as King, embodies the idea that “family affairs are state affairs.” Many matters should be handled objectively, rationally, and with interests in mind.

However, from the perspective of a “husband,” this would undoubtedly seem irresponsible. Louisa did not appreciate such treatment either, so she did not volunteer to take on this task—she was practical, unconcerned about further offending Queen Mother Anna or damaging her reputation by clashing with her nominal mother-in-law. Practical gains mattered most to her.

Perhaps influenced by her upbringing as a modern woman, she still instinctively disliked handling such matters for her husband while he remained comfortably uninvolved. She knew this wasn’t the same as a husband avoiding ordinary family conflicts or mother-in-law disputes in later eras, but so be it.

Fortunately, Guillaume truly loved her and didn’t upset her over this—perhaps he hadn’t even noticed the issue. He simply took over the conversation, saying he would speak with Queen Mother Anna himself.

Yes, precisely because Guillaume loved her—what else could it be? By medieval standards, Guillaume was far from a bad man. He upheld knightly virtues, striving not to trouble innocent women or subject them to violence… But to call him considerate or attentive to such details? Absolutely not!

His character and mindset were thoroughly medieval—he was not an “egalitarian” and was steeped in male dominance, unable to recognize the injustices women faced. In short, unless he loved Louisa and put himself in her shoes, realizing how difficult this would be for her, it was hard to explain why he took over the matter.

Louisa was not surprised at all. People were like that—not necessarily believing in “equality for all” or empathizing with others’ struggles. But when it came to someone they loved, it was different.

Guillaume’s discussion with Queen Mother Anna was “simple”—essentially just a notification, though he did threaten her with certain consequences. Had Louisa been the one negotiating with Anna, things would have been far more complicated! Louisa’s proximity to Guillaume and his trust in her granted her significant power, but it was fundamentally different from Guillaume’s own authority.

“How infuriating, is it not? This is the plight of a Queen Mother once her stepson ascends the throne.” After Guillaume left, Queen Mother Anna was fuming! She complained to her trusted court lady: “All I wanted was a small favor—I hadn’t even asked yet, and he brutally cut me off!”

“People always say His Majesty treats me and his half-siblings well, arranging promising futures for everyone. But God knows, we had to struggle for every scrap! Take François and Alicia’s marriage—had I not compromised elsewhere, His Majesty would have dragged his feet indefinitely!”

Though the court lady understood why Anna felt this way, she privately disagreed. Regardless of the behind-the-scenes struggles, the outcome was that Guillaume had indeed secured bright futures for his half-siblings, even waging a recent war for it.

This was praiseworthy enough that, despite Guillaume’s sternness and occasional rigidity, people gradually let go of their initial wariness.

Sentimentally speaking, a king who cared so much for his half-siblings and maintained decorum with a contentious stepmother couldn’t be that harsh. More pragmatically, his actions showed he operated within “the rules,” making life under his reign bearable.

Still, the court lady kept her thoughts to herself and humored Anna’s grievances: “You worry too much, Your Grace. His Majesty holds you in high esteem. As for the favor you sought for Prince François… well, it was no small matter. Land, no less! Honestly, now that Prince François is wed to Princess Alicia, they or their children may soon wear Baron’s crown. Wasun’s land is scarcely relevant now.”

“That was François’ rightful due! As their father’s son and a prince of Wasun, he deserved land and a title…” Of course, Anna didn’t mention that had François already held such assets, Baron’s “strong claim” might never have fallen to him. Guillaume’s efforts to secure the marriage were compensation for François’ lack of substantial land.

Seeing Anna’s resentment, the court lady humbled herself for a while before diverting her mistress’s ire—criticizing the King too harshly was dangerous. Who knew if it might reach his ears and bring unforeseen trouble?

Though court gossip was rampant and even kings faced criticism, some remarks were more sensitive than others.

To shift the topic, the court lady mused: “Speaking of which, how did His Majesty learn of this so quickly? Your intention to request this favor for Prince François was confidential, wasn’t it? The King only just returned to Cité… Who could’ve known and informed him immediately?”

Queen Mother Anna scoffed. “Indeed. Even if the court has no secrets, the newly returned King shouldn’t have known. Who could’ve told him? Who could’ve prompted such a swift, merciless warning? Only our increasingly well-informed Queen!”

Anna’s bitterness stemmed from the fact that since becoming Queen Mother and Louisa becoming Queen, Louisa had supplanted her as the highest-ranking woman in the kingdom. And it wasn’t just a title—Anna’s influence waned daily while Louisa’s grew steadily.

Louisa had not actively encroached on Anna’s power, understanding that even a rat will bite when cornered. Their dynamic was naturally shifting—inevitable as long as Guillaume was King. Why push too hard? Anna had years of court experience; who knew what desperate measures she might take? The court was rife with schemes.

Yet even this steady decline galled Anna. Within the palace, she could feel Louisa’s faction growing day by day—some placed by Louisa, others defecting from neutrality or even from Anna’s own circle.

Naturally, Louisa’s network of informants expanded.

Suddenly, Anna murmured, “No. This can’t continue. Our Queen mustn’t grow any stronger… Frankly, she’s already too triumphant! At this rate, others will have no standing left…”

Though the court lady thought Anna was growing increasingly paranoid in her decline, she shared her frustration over the Queen’s dominance. An overly powerful Queen was no boon for court ladies, especially those close to the Queen Mother.

If the Queen wielded near-kingly authority, what role would they have? Mere sycophants… And while court ladies were often expected to defer to the Queen, being reduced to parrots of her words meant rapid marginalization. Besides, for high-ranking noblewomen, the court held little appeal if all they could do was echo the Queen.

Pondering these thoughts, the confidante also began considering how to prevent the Queen from further consolidating her power. After much deliberation, she came up with an idea and proposed to Queen Mother Anna: "Indeed, Your Highness, we must not allow the Queen to continue like this. A queen who is too powerful does no one any good."

"However, the reason Her Majesty the Queen is so formidable is not just because of her illustrious lineage—as the heiress of Brulado and future Countess of Brulado—but more importantly, because she has the King's support."

This was undeniably true. By the standards of the time, Louisa's lineage was among the very highest, surpassing even most princesses! After all, even princesses from powerful kingdoms rarely brought lands as vast and wealthy as Brulado as dowry. Marrying her meant effortlessly acquiring fertile lands that might take a hundred years of warfare to conquer. If this didn’t make her the most desirable match, what would?

Yet, in the context of marriage, Louisa's dominance in the royal court couldn't be attributed solely to her birth. While high birth, sharp wit, and a wide network of allies could certainly grant a queen considerable influence—enough to achieve much if wielded skillfully—none of these alone explained Louisa’s current position. She had effortlessly attained what even the most ambitious queens, through meticulous planning and perfect timing, could scarcely achieve: a direct share of royal authority.

The primary reason for this was simple: Guillaume trusted and supported her. That was all.

"Yes, the King's support." These words made Queen Mother Anna's expression grow distant. She was reminded of herself—how she had once wielded power in the political center of Valois, all thanks to her husband Louis III's backing. Yet even with his support, she had never enjoyed the unchallenged authority Louisa now commanded.

This was largely because Guillaume was unlike his father. When Louis III had relied on Anna as a political ally to intimidate the feudal lords, he had been a stroke-ridden invalid, his own authority severely diminished. The power he could share with her was naturally far weaker.

For a few seconds, Queen Mother Anna fell silent, lost in memories of her heyday. When she snapped back to the present, she chewed over her confidante’s words and nodded thoughtfully. "You're quite right, my dear. It all comes down to the King's support... So the key lies with the King."

"Ah, speaking of which, His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen are indeed exceptionally close—something we all know even without spies. It's all too obvious, isn't it? In that regard, this daughter-in-law of mine has been luckier than I was. She has won the love of a king—ah! Who would have thought the House of Luopei would produce such an heir?"

Queen Mother Anna knew too many "Luopeis." The male members of Valois’s royal family—and even some of its women—were notorious for their ruthless pragmatism, Machiavellian scheming, and boundless ambition. By marriage, she herself could even be considered a "Luopei"! This only reinforced the family’s reputation—they were simply "that kind" of people.

In the past, Guillaume had fit seamlessly among the Luopeis—inhumanely aloof, indifferent, and utterly detached. Back then, no one could have imagined he would one day love a woman so deeply, to the point of near obsession (as others saw it, and in a way, they weren't entirely wrong), even if she was his wife.

"Indeed, His Majesty is deeply in love with the Queen. It's said that her mere presence softens his heart, leading him to pardon former enemies... That's the talk these days. Many who seek favors or forgiveness believe it's better to approach the Queen than the King..." the confidante murmured, though how much of this was subtle encouragement only she knew.

"How absurd!" Queen Mother Anna scoffed, then launched into a righteous condemnation. She seemed to have forgotten that she, too, had once been in such a position—when many had sought Louis III’s favors through her.

"This is clearly inappropriate, wrong! Such errors must be corrected... As some ministers have complained, the relationship between a king and queen should be dignified—stable, amicable, and restrained. While poor relations between them are troublesome, excessive affection is equally problematic. It leads the king to heed a woman's words, and as we all know, the court of a wise ruler should have no place for a woman's voice!"

In short, "mutual respect" was ideal. If the king and queen were too close, forming an unshakable alliance, it harmed the interests of those below—especially when the queen was a native noblewoman rather than a foreign princess. This effect was already visible: the Brulado faction, thanks to Louisa, was receiving more opportunities and privileges than ever before.

As for accusations of nepotism, Louisa would argue that in feudal politics, rulers naturally prioritized their own allies. How else could they ensure loyalty and efficiency? Without reliable subordinates, even a king would find himself isolated and powerless.

Of course, promoting allies required balance and diversity to avoid creating uncontrollable factions—but that was a matter of skill, separate from the principle itself.

"...His Majesty focuses too much on the Queen—no, exclusively on her. Isn't that unusual? That's the problem." With this conclusion, Queen Mother Anna made up her mind.

Naturally, her goal was to drive a wedge between Louisa and Guillaume. But sowing discord between a happily married couple—especially when one was an unwelcome presence in their lives—was no simple task. Directly driving a wedge between such close bonds would only provoke resistance, and given their current control over the court, any scheming risked exposure and backlash.

Two days later, Queen Mother Anna received a dossier listing the most distinguished noble maidens (and married women of suitable age) in Cité.

Clearly, she intended to recommend a mistress for Guillaume—though not directly. Their relationship was already cold and strained, bordering on hostility. A direct suggestion from her would only put him on guard and likely be rejected outright.

Setting aside the logistics of introducing a mistress, the idea itself was sound. If Guillaume’s support for Louisa stemmed from "love," then diverting that love—or at least diluting it—was the solution. A mistress was the most straightforward method, one that carried no repercussions even if discovered. After all, mistresses existed to capture a man’s affection, and if some of that affection shifted, the wife’s influence would inevitably wane. Even if Guillaume learned of the scheme, he wouldn't see it as malicious—just a customary offering.

This mirrored the ancient practice in many courts, where nobles and officials routinely presented beautiful women to the emperor. While it might upset certain consorts, the emperor himself would rarely view it as provocation—and even if he suspected scheming, he’d be far more accepting of such a "gift" than of outright meddling.

"...The choice of candidate is crucial. She must be striking enough to catch His Majesty's attention—otherwise, nothing else matters," Queen Mother Anna remarked as she reviewed the dossier with her confidante.

Yet after scanning the list, she couldn't help but complain: "What's this? Normally, Cité seems overflowing with radiant young women, each outstanding in her own way. But now, when we actually need someone to captivate the King, none of them measure up!"

The confidante chuckled. "You're comparing them to Her Majesty the Queen, aren't you? Yes, the Queen is exceptionally beautiful—enough that the King broke off his previous engagement for her at first sight. If we hold every girl in Cité to that standard, of course they'll fall short."

"But there's no need for such comparisons. Don't you know that mistresses needn't be more devout, loyal, or beautiful than wives? Men are like that—always chasing new thrills. What matters isn't surpassing the Queen; any charming girl will do... We could prepare multiple candidates. With enough options, surely one or two will catch His Majesty's eye."

"You're quite right." Recalling the men in her life—including her own husband, Louis III—Queen Mother Anna readily agreed. She revisited the report, selected a few promising names, and decided to send discreet hints their way. Naturally, she'd also pave their way.

"...Come to think of it, I've heard some ministers also considered introducing mistresses to the King. Clearly, His Majesty's excessive trust in the Queen has displeased certain officials," the confidante added, having gathered some intelligence. "But none of their candidates succeeded, and soon after, the King left Cité..."

Queen Mother Anna perked up. "Oh? Then we might include a few of the ministers’ preferred choices... Such candidates would be accepted by the court, and the King wouldn't suspect anything—after all, I mean no harm. It would be unfortunate if His Majesty misunderstood."