Return to Sender

[callmedelta]

Esrellia 17th, 2:30 pm. Pareau Harbor, Franerre.

Ludwig drove down to the Pareau Harbor, Ophelia in the passenger seat with a cigarette between her lips. It was certainly better riding in an actual vehicle than the back of some shitty truck. Doubly so when there weren’t any angry crowds you needed to drive through. Ludwig had been somewhat surprised with how well they'd been dispersed after the first day, but never let it be said that the Pareau Police weren’t good at their job. There was undeniably still a tension in the air, but it was just simmering for the time being. The pair were silent for the most part. Neither of them particularly felt like making conversation, knowing how important the letter on the seat between them was. Both were lost in their own heads, ruminating on the orders they had been given by the King himself.

Ludwig slowed the car to a halt in the small parking area outside the ferry terminal. Exiting the car, Ludwig grabbed the letter from the seat in between the two, both grabbing their luggage from the back seat, Ophelia stamping out her cigarette on the ground. Still without a word between them, Ophelia led the way through the terminal into the docks proper, the few workers on shift paying them no mind. The pair continued towards where the Dirian ship was docked. There were a pair of soldiers lazing around on duty at the mouth of the pier, though they perked up when the pair approached them.

“This area’s restricted,” the first soldier said, placing a hand out in front of Ophelia.

She dug into her pocket, the maneuver a bit awkward with the load in her hand, but eventually she produced a folded set of papers. “We’re here on orders of the King himself. We have dealings with the Kumo on that ship you’re guarding.”

The soldier looked over the now-unfolded papers, eyes widening upon seeing the royal seal. He handed the papers back to Ophelia, looking at the luggage they held, muttering, “God help ya’, you’re gonna need it.”

“…yeah,” Ophelia said, belatedly, before the two continued on their way to the Dirian ship.

[Sophie]

Now that the Tispar had unloaded the bulk of its cargo Fumika Kanaka had been able to move into a now-empty room instead of just whatever passageway was empty. In the past few days, she'd been able to make that room her own. Webbing was everywhere. A stabilized hammock was mounted to the walls, and a slab of metal was being held up by webs to act as a desk, along with a smaller net of webbing to work as her chair. There she buried her nose in a journal, writing by the flickering staol lantern, a lantern she had to bring herself as the ship did not intend to use oil to light up cargo rooms.

BANG BANG BANG The metal of the bulkhead echoed in through the room as someone pounded on it from the other end. Very few of the crew knew what room Kanaka had holed up in, so she figured someone bothering her must have a decent reason for doing so. With great effort, Kanaka turned the door locking wheel and yanked open the steel door. Upon seeing the small group of Franerri, her face tensed just a bit. "Good afternoon." She spoke the phrase in Franerri but hoped the conversation would continue in a language she was fluent in.

[callmedelta]

“Hello,” Ophelia said in Shushigiris.

“Good day,” Ludwig said in Koian. He brandished an envelope in his hand proudly. “His Highness has a response for your Empress. He would be here himself to send us off, but His Highness thought it would be better if this happened more quietly, given the…incidents that happened when you disembarked. As you delivered your letter to our King, we shall deliver our response to your Empress in kind, once this ship leaves port.”

[Sophie]

"I fear you are mistaken." Kanaka shook her head. "This ship and I aren't headed home. We're headed to Elenria, where I will send the contents of this message home on a secured telegram line. If you intend on attending the meeting, I would recommend you hop on the nearest boat and get there. I was given very specific orders to get the contents of your response to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as quickly as possible; else an unideal response be reached without further discussion."

[callmedelta]

‘Always with the unequal treatment,’ Ludwig thought. Ophelia began speaking in Franerri, with Ludwig translating into Koian.

“Franerre is perfectly willing to have talks, and even cede land without bloodshed,” Ludwig translated, “But we need to be treated with respect in this extremely important matter. You can pass this message onto the Empress in Elenria, but this is what our King has tasked us with.”

[Sophie]

"Very well then I suppose this will be the end of our dealings." Kanaka bowed slightly. "Perhaps we will meet again. Under better circumstances." As they left Kanaka quickly wrote down what Ludwig said to share with the homeland. After waiting a few minutes she left her room with her satchel in hand and headed for the captain's quarters. After climbing up a few decks she knocked on the hatch until she was told to enter. "Good morning Captain Yassin."

"Ahh, Kanaka. My favorite little stowaway. I trust your new quarters are acceptable yes?" The captain of the dirian vessel smirked, looking up from his logbook.

"Yes they are, though that is not why I am here." Kanaka continued. "I'm here to ask you to divert your course home and instead stop in Aundi Bay for a day so that I may finish some up my work here before heading home."

The captain snorted. "Hah, no I've done enough just allowing you to ride on my ship. I am not going to divert my course."

"I will give you one million yairen to do so." Kanaka offered, opening up her satchel revealing stacks of cash. "It'd only delay you a week, surely that's worth it."

THe captain stared into the satchel with eyes wide as dinner plates. "F- Fine." The captain acquiesced and held his hand out.

With a grin, Kanaka took out a stack of cash and placed it into his hand. "A pleasure as always captain. I'll see you in Aundi."

Within a matter of days the oiler arrived at the other side of the bay, in Elenria. An oiler ship arriving in Elenria was an incredibly rare sight as Kumosenkan had always been a pledged believer in the absolute power of staol. A group of Hunter Killers were quick to escort the vessel into a priority docking bay, allowing Kanaka to quickly disembark and meet two Kumo who escorted Kanaka to a secure telegram room in a small government building in the center of the city.

ON a common encryption that she had been taught, Kanaka began the transmission, "Franerre is sending diplomats for talks. Open to cedeing land without war." The message immediately arrived at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, curling upwards the lips of Kazumi Yamanaka.

[callmedelta]

"That went...surprisingly well," Ludwig said, the pair of diplomats standing on the pier as the Dirian tanker sailed out of Pareau harbor.

"Kanaka certainly was curt," Ophelia commented, lighting up a cigarette, "For a moment I'd almost thought we were being rejected out of hand."

"Thanks for souring my mood," Luwdig said, fishing out a cigarette of his own, "I don't even want to think of the prospect."

"Don't worry," Ophelia said, "There's certainly plenty of time for this diplomatic mission to still get fucked up."

Ludwig gave Ophelia a punch on the shoulder, perhaps a bit too hard to be playful. "I was being serious."

Ophelia rubbed at her now somewhat sore shoulder. "Alright, so...now what? Do we just requisition a boat and get sailing?"

"Pretty much," Ludwig said with a shrug.

~

One month later...

The Franerri transport ship steamed towards Kumosenkan. The ship was full of two distinct moods; the first was tension, held predominantly by the sailors, and it didn't exactly take a genius to see why. Sailing an unarmed transport towards a nation with a powerful navy, hair trigger, and hatred for your entire species would do that to the bravest of men. The second mood was that of excitement, held by the diplomatic team and their staff. Stuck on a month-long voyage without any pressing tasks to concern themselves with, the tension had simmered itself out -- the entire mission probably would have gone insane by now if it hadn't. By the time they approached Kumosenkan, they were all just waiting for something to finally happen, for better or for worse. Anything would be better than the waiting.

[Sophie]

I-241, a newly constructed Hei-Gata class submarine, was undergoing sea trials just off the western coast of Kumosenkan. She was currently on the surface, sailing at full speed directly north with a full watch crew on the conning tower, including the Captain of the boat, Commander Yoshie Miyashita. The seas were calm, the boat was barely rocking, and everyone's eyes were sharply on the horizon. There was nothing to be seen, as they were at least a hundred kilometers off the nearest shipping lane. It was calm until Miyashita's voice peaked in a scream, collapsing the peace that had seeped into the hearts of the watchstanders. "ALARM! CRASH DIVE!" Her voice boomed, and within moments the crew's training kicked in. The hatch leading into the heart of the warship was yanked open, and the six above deck Kumo skittered down the walls of the conning tower and into the bowels of the boat.

Seconds later, the navigations officer was twisting valves in the command room, flooding the fore and aft ballast tanks full of water. Two enlisted women began very carefully controlling the fore and aft dive planes as nearly every other woman on the boat began sprinting to the torpedo room. After a matter of seconds, the bow of the ship began to dip beneath the waves. The navigations officer changed her station from the ballast to overseeing the depths steerers. Her eyes locked onto the depth tracker as it slowly began to rise from its resting position. "Ten meters." She called out as she was trained to do every ten meters. "Twenty meters."

The Captain took off her cap and tossed it to a young enlisted woman. "Throw it on my bunk." She ordered as she placed her hand on the shoulder of her navs officer. The enlisted quickly ran through a hatch and placed the cap on a hook just above the Captain's bunk before running back.

"Forty meters." The navs officer continued. "Fifty." The pressure hull of the vessel was now sustaining two point five atmospheres of pressure cracking down on its hull. The spine of the boat creaked, sending a slight shiver down the spines of the still-green crew. "Sixty meters... Seventy meters."

For a standard crash dive order, the Captain would order a maintained depth at eighty meters, leaving another twenty meters for the boat's test depth to maneuver in. "Eighty meters." The navs officer's eyes turned to the Captain on her shoulder and turned back when the Captain didn't move. "Ninety meters." A tiny tidbit of tension trawled into her trachea as she called out the next depth. "One hundred meters." To punctuate her sentence, the pressure hull groaned and creaked against fourteen atmospheres of pressure strained against the boat.

One of the enlisted sailors operating the depth steers looked back at the navs officer and the Captain; worry plagued her face. "C- Captain?" She questioned.

"Keep going." The Captain assured without even a moment's hesitation. "She can take it."

The worry not completely gone, the sailor turned back around. "Aye aye, Ma'am."

"One hundred twenty meters." She choked out, her eye watching the tiny bubble crawl its way up the indicator towards its maximum of two hundred and fifty. "One hundred and thirty meters, Captain."

"Keep going." The Captain affirmed. The hull, pipes, and valves all ached against the intensive strain of a hundred and ninety pounds of force pressed hard on every square inch of the pressure hull. "Bring us down ahead slow. Watch, rig ship for silent running." She gave orders in an almost whisper. The navs officer changed the engine order telegraph to slow, and the screws on the outside of the boat began to slow to only sixty rpm. The lights changed from a normal white to a calming blue, instructing all sailors aboard not to make a peep and all non-critical crew members to head to their bunks. All machinery and equipment not critical to moving the boat forward were silenced.

"One hundred and fifty meters, Captain!" The navs officer shouted in a whisper. "One sixty!" The hull now sounded as if it were moaning in agony nearly constantly as the water tried to crush the submarine as a tin can under a boot. "One hundred and seventy meters, Captain." Her voice gave out to panic as she felt the crushing weight of the depths above her.

The Captain smiled and patted the depth steerers on the back. "Take the bubble off the boat and keep us at one hundred and eighty.”

Both depth steerers took a minor sigh of relief, despite the ever growing pressure outside weighing on their necks. They lifted the dive planes to keep the boat even at the extreme depth they now rested. Over nineteen atmospheres of pressure weighed on the hull, creaking and aching, desperate to find any crack, any flaw, any way in.

The navs officer turned to the captain with a distressed frown. “Captain… What are you doing?”

With an almost unconcerned, quizzical look she retorted. “Stress testing my boat. What are you doing?”

“Making sure these sailors make it home safe.” She almost snapped as the ever creaking steel continued to make her wince. “This boat is only rated for one hundred meters Captain.”

As the Captain opened her mouth to speak, the both of them were interrupted by a voice from the next compartment over. “Contact! Bearing Three-One-Two!”

Intrigued, Miyashita crouched through to the next compartment, and hung over the hydrophone operator. “What’ve you got sailor?” She asked the Petty Officer First Class.

The Petty Officer squeezed her eyes closed tight and pressed her headset hard into her ears. “Sound is muddied by our hull creaking.”

“Focus sailor. Rely on your training.” The Captain reassured with a soft pat on the back.

Chop Chop Chop, Chop Chop Chop The hydrophone operator’s head twitched a little as she listened. “Single propellor.” She twisted a knob on her station, Chop Chop Chop, Chop Chop Chop, Chop Chop Chop. “Three blades, no whine. She’s a merchant.”

“Range?” Miyashita asked, pressing her sailor further. The operator reached for the button that would send out a ping, giving her a very precise range. Before she could press it, the Captain grabbed her arm. “Estimate it for me. Passives only.”

The operator gave the Captain a quick look before again shutting her eyes and messing with the knobs on her station. “Extreme range.” She answered as the hull of their own boat again screeched against the ocean. While very finely manipulating the volume knob, “Forty… no fifty Kilometers.”

“Give us a ping, lets see how well you did.” The Captain ordered with a smile.

With an ounce of nerves the operator pressed the button. A loud, echoing ssSPONG[/b] rang throughout the ocean and the submarine as a pulse of sound was sent out in the direction of the contact. Once the sound hit the vessel it echoed back to the hydrophones which gave a reading based on the time it took to return to the submarine. This in turn was sent through a mechanical computer and calculated the estimated range of the contact. 47000M

“Extraordinary.” Miyashita applauded quietly. “Navigations Officer. Plot the contact. Forty seven klicks out, on bearing Three-One-Four.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” A voice rang from the next compartment.

“Can you give me a speed sailor?” She continued to press.

“A… speed?” She questioned, no such estimation was ever included in her training. “I don’t even know its bearing.”

Miyashita shook her head. “Just a best estimate. You can do it.”

“I- okay.” She confirmed and again pressed the headset to her ears and listened carefully. “For a merchant she’s definitely hauling ass.” The Petty Officer confirmed. “I don’t think she’s laden, the screw sounds pretty free.” She continued slightly adjusting the direction of the hydrophone to keep pace with the ship and turned up the volume to the max. “My best guess is ten knots.”

“Great work sailor.” Miyashita patted the woman’s shoulders twice. “In ten minutes give us another ping. We’ll use the ranging and bearing to get a speed and bearing of the contact. See how well you did.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” The operator nodded.

“How confident are you on that speed? Just out of curiosity.” The Captain asked a bit more casually.

“I’ve never done anything like this before.” She shrugged. “I know a bit about speed calculations from my sister who’s a torpedowoman on the I-165. Maybe sixty percent confident?”

“Wow.” She took a step back impressed.

Using the hydrophone operators updated bearings and the active sonar ranging both the Captain and the navs officer were able to not only get an estimated bearing but also an estimated speed of the target in question. “Nine knots. Bearing six five.”

With a gaping maw the navs officer stared at the Captain. “Just how experienced is that Petty Officer?”

“She’s completely green.” Miyashita chuckled. “And I’m gonna make sure she stays with us until she retires. Those ears are something else.”

“No kidding.” She gave an eye towards the hatch. “I’ve heard rumors of golden ears, never thought I’d meet one.”

“Alright, lets go see what we’re dealing with. Plot an intercept course. Watch secure us from silent running.” The Captain began to order. “Surface the boat and get us going ahead full.”

A resounding chorus of “Aye aye, Captain”s began to ring out. Finally the boat began to angle upwards as compressed air began to shoot its way into the ballast tanks, increasing the submarines buoyancy significantly. In minutes the boat breached the waves, allowing fresh air to fill the lungs of the sailors aboard.

Now with access to fresh oxygen, the engineers switchedf the engines from electric to staol. The screws began to spin with a fervant energy bringing the boat up to twenty knots. Within two hours the watch standers on the conning tower called out. “Engine smoke on the horizon! Bearing Three-Three-Eight!”

“Bring us down to periscope depth. Lets see who we’re dealing with.” After diving down to ten meters, the only visible portion of the boat was a small periscope. The engine order of ahead full had stayed but on the electric engines and the added drag the boat could only make eight knots. Still enough speed to intercept the contact and get a perfect visual picture.

“Identified! Vessel is a Franerri passenger vessel! Mont-Blanc class.” The watch stander called out.

“What the hell is a Franerri Vessel doing out here?” The navs officer asked aloud. “Is this part of the training?”

“No. Its not.” The Captain answered with a squinted eye. “Bring us up deck awash and send a message home. Fleet’s gonna want to know about this.”

---

RBS Take and RBS Make, both Kawakaze class Hunter Killers, steamed from their dock in North Western Kumosenkan. Their target was a long Franerri steamer nearing Kumosenkan’s territorial waters being reported on by Submarine I-241. Making a roaring thirty knots on the ocean they would reach their target in less than a day.

As the sun began to set before them, the hucks spotted the ship’s masts. They continued to steam forward until they were well within visual range. The signals officer began flashing the signal light. “FRANERRI VESSEL. YOU ARE APPROACHING KUMO TERRITORIAL WATERS. IDENTIFY INTENT.”

After a quick bout of signals between the two, the hucks signaled orders that the vessel follow them to the port of Fuyonouso behind exactly one nautical mile. Ringing up twelve knots, the pseudo convoy reached the port in another six days. Once there a slot in a dock had been specifically emptied for the Franerri vessel.

A small group of diplomats and their personal guards were present at the docks. These were largely unimportant diplomats on a grander scale, and there jobs were simply to escort the Franerri to the already scheduled meeting.

Leading this group was Yuriri Oreki, a decently experienced if boring diplomat. Once the Franerri disembarked she was the first to greet them. “Welcome to Fuyonouso. My name is Yuriri Oreki. I have been instructed to guide you to your scheduled meeting with the Minister of the Hunt, and Foreign Affairs. We appreciate your wilingness to attend with such haste.”

[callmedelta]

Knock knock knock

Ophelia bolted up in cot, her heart pounding, shooting a quick glance to the still-sleeping Maria in the cot beside her before focusing her attention on the door. What time was it? She shot a glance at the clock she'd put on the wall. 9:24 a.m. local time in Kumosenkan. It was a little late to be waking up, sure, but it wasn't like they had anything going on today. This could turn out to be an issue.

Knock knock knock

Whoever was at the door was insistent, and Maria was beginning to stir. "Who is it?" Ophelia asked, gently shaking Maria awake, just in case she needed to go back to her own cot. Maria opened her eyes, Ophelia putting a finger to her girlfriend's lips to silence her.

"It's me Ophelia," Luwdig's voice replied from the other side of the door. "And there's no one else around."

Ophelia's heart slowed, the woman letting out a sigh of relief. "Let me get decent, Ludwig, then you can come in." It was illegal for Maria and Ophelia to be together, but thankfully Ludwig knew about them and didn't care. Ophelia was quite lucky about a great many things when it came to her love life - not only did she find another woman who shared her attraction, both Maria and Ophelia worked together in Foreign Affairs. That made it quite easy to get Maria assigned as Ophelia's secretary, and as such she came along on the mission. The makeshift rooms that had been set up in some of the merchant ship's storage rooms had two cots apiece. They were sex-segregated, because nothing indecent could happen between two women, of course. Still, two women together in the same cot couldn't exactly be easily brushed away. Ophelia didn't think anyone on the ship would make such a fuss about it now, given the circumstances, but going back home it would be an issue. "Come in."

Ludwig stood in the doorway wearing a full suit, quickly shutting the door behind him, while Ophelia and Maria had only thrown on what was necessary to be decent as to not make Ludwig wait too long. "You two need to get ready. Captain says we're making port in Fu-yo-nou-so in an hour and a half." He took great care in making sure the word was pronounced correctly. The both of them had been working on their Shushugiris on their trip, but Ludwig didn't have much more than the most basic phrases down.

"Shit," Ophelia muttered, "I thought that was tomorrow." She swallowed hard. It was finally time.

"I'll leave you two too it," Ludwig said. He turned around and opened the door, quickly peaking his head out before walking back outside and shutting the door behind him.

Ludwig was scarcely outside the door when Ophelia was hit by a kiss on the cheek from Maria. "Good luck today," she said, before turning to the rack of clothes to get properly dressed. Ophelia didn't know how much luck was needed today; they were just delivering the message, after all. Still, Ophelia and Ludwig could use all they could get, and the kiss that came along with it was nice.

---

Ophelia and Ludwig stepped off the boat, bowing slightly to the assembled cadre of Kumo diplomats. "My name is Ophelia de Renard, and this is my assistant, Ludwig Gruca." Ophelia was taking the reins in this situation. Kumosenkan would certainly appreciate it more, and it would help disguise the fact that Ludwig wasn't really a diplomat. "Our Shushugiris is not the most sufficient, but I can speak Gaelian, Lusatian, and Dirian fluently, and Ludwig can speak Koian. When it comes to matters such as these, delays are not ok." A complete and utter lie, but it had to be done. Ophelia proudly held up the letter in front of her. "In the same way your Empress sent Fumika Kanaka to deliver her letter to our King, we will be delivering this to your Empress."

[Sophie]

Yuriri Oreki skillfully held back a snort. She considered outright informing them that the Empress would not be meeting with them but decided upon a different tactic. "Very well then." Her words garnered an eye flutter of shock from her subordinates, but she continued anyway. "We have a set of cars waiting. Please, embark, and we will take you to the capitol building." With a smooth flick of her arm, Oreki gestured toward the small fleet of luxury Kumo cars. The chairs inside were much too large for humans, and if sat in properly, would not allow their feet to touch the floor. Inside them were drivers who were instructed under very strict orders not to speak. Oreki held open a door of one of the cars in the middle of the convoy, intending for the two to enter.

[callmedelta]

The pair of diplomats looked at each other. They definitely caught that something was going on, but they couldn't exactly be seen muttering about it in Franerri right in front of their hosts even if they did have an idea of where to begin narrowing down to specifics. Besides, there was always the off-chance one of the Kumo in front of them spoke it. Better not to risk it. Ophelia strode forward towards the car, Ludwig following behind her. The pair sat as best they could in the large seats, but it was awkward. Like the pair were children again. Perhaps that said something about how Kumosenkan saw them, but that was likely looking too deep into things. "How long is the car ride's time?" Ophelia asked out of curiosity.

[Sophie]

"Not long. Less than half an hour." Oreki answered confidently. The convoy drove quickly onto a freeway. Where there were almost no other cars on the road, this wasn't because the Kumo police had closed the roads specifically for this convoy, but rather that the city of Fuyonouso prioritized public transit to such an extreme degree that most Kumo saw owning a vehicle as a needless indulgence of the rich. With such little traffic, the convoy was free to accelerate to a hundred kilometers per hour safely. Traveling at such high speeds allowed them to travel from the docks to the city center in no time at all. Now on city streets, after a few blocks, they pulled up to the Capitol building. Opulent and imperial, yet of brutalist design. The roof was coated in gold leaf, but the walls were pure concrete blocks. A gate was automatically opened without inspection that directed the convoy into an underground parking garage.

Once all cars were parked, everyone disembarked. Oreki held open the door for the Franerri and smiled at just how small they looked in those chairs. "Please, follow me. I'll take you to an elevator which will take us right to your meeting." The elevators were behind a glass door mere meters away from the cars. And once Oreki, the Franerri, and Oreki's personal guard were inside she hit the button for the eighth floor.

[callmedelta]

There was a difference between knowing Kumosenkan was one of the most advanced nations in the world, and *seeing* that Kumosenkan was one of the most advanced nations in the world. Even with thirty, forty more years of development, it was unlikely that Pareau would grow to be anything as grand as Fuyonouso. That really put things into perspective, how insurmountable this task seemed. The Franerri party was silent the whole ride, be it from the sheer scale of Fuyunouso, being lost in their own thoughts, or not quite feeling comfortable talking with prying ears around. They were similarly silent as they rode the elevator up. It was, as they said, showtime.

[Sophie]

The eighth floor was bustling with activity. Kumo lined the halls, moving from room to room, carrying documents; some were standing at water coolers and chatting. However, nearly all of them locked their eyes on humans that exited the elevators. Without acknowledging another soul in the room, Oreki led the Franerri to the last room on the right in the hallway and held the door open for them. She did not follow them in and closed the door behind them.

The room was large and contained a single table, three chairs, two cushions, a crystal pitcher of water, and five glasses. The electric golden chandelier above illuminated the two Kumo women and single inselni. The first to introduce themselves was the elder of the two Kumo, a Red Back Kumo with braided white hair. "Good morning. I am Ayano Okabe, Minister of the Hunt for the Empress."

After her, was the Kumo dressed in all pastel pink. Her sun-bleached hair rolled down her shoulders as she smiled peacefully. "I am Kazumi Yamanaka, Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Empress. And this," she turned to the Inselni still sitting at the table.

"I can introduce myself." An aged, shaky voice came from the woman. Eyes now drawn to the inselni it would be obvious just how old she was. Which was saying something for an inselni. She had to use her cane to very carefully lift herself up from her chair. "I am Master Librarian Amika Meiyu."

[callmedelta]

(OOC note: italicized text indicates they are speaking Franerri)

Ophelia turned to Ludwig. She had understandably been nervous the whole time, and though Ophelia didn't show it, her nervousness had just been ratcheted up a level. "They think we're a little more than messengers here, Ludwig."

"So correct them," Ludwig replied calmly, "You're the leader here."

"You speak Koian better than I do," Ophelia said, "We can't exactly afford something going wrong here due to a mistranslation on my part."

"Alright, just tell me what to say and I'll translate then," Ludwig said, "Just start talking."

Ophelia cleared her throat and began, Ludwig doing his best to translate in real time. "I believe you have misunderstood our purpose here, Minister Yamanaka, Minister Okabe, and Master Librarian Meiyu." Ophelia produced the letter and placed it on the table reverently, keeping one hand on it. "We are messengers bearing a letter to your Empress from our King concerning the disputed territory. The two of us here do not have any legal authority to make a decision in that regard, and even if we did, any agreements of territorial exchange must pass through Franerre's National Chamber before being ratified." Ophelia paused, bracing herself for the Ministers' response.