Mother's Selfishness and the Weight of the Scales

In the study, the sandalwood incense still curled upwards, but the atmosphere was exceptionally heavy due to William's unfinished sigh and the Eldest Princess Elinor's final, cold pronouncement. William looked at his wife's profile as she refocused on the documents, her face showing not a trace of hesitation or pity for having personally arranged her niece's fate, only an almost inhuman calm and focus. He knew well that in his wife's heart, the family's interests and the game of power were always paramount; any personal emotion could be set aside for them, even actively sacrificed.

However, was it any emotion?

Unbidden, another young woman's image surfaced in William's mind—their shared daughter, Anne Windsor. That girl, who inherited his gentle disposition and his wife's exquisite features, had just turned eighteen this year. Like a blooming rose, delicate, lively, and full of romantic fantasies about the world, she had yet to be tainted by the court's corruption. Unlike the cool and precocious Alisa, Anne was more like a flower carefully nurtured in a greenhouse, needing sunshine and rain, not the harsh winds and bitter rain of a political marriage.

A thought uncontrollably surfaced: What if... what if the person who needed to enter into a marriage alliance with the Hohenzollern Family back then hadn't been Alisa, but Anne? Would his wife still have pushed their daughter towards a rake like Leon Hohenzollern so unhesitatingly?

This thought made William's heart clench. He was almost certain the answer was no. He looked at Elinor, the Eldest Princess who, to outsiders, was cold and calculating, but when facing her own daughter Anne, a rare, genuine tenderness occasionally flickered in the depths of her eyes. It was an emotion entirely different from the way she looked at Alisa, which was like assessing "high-value assets."

As if sensing her husband's prolonged gaze and complex emotional fluctuations, the Eldest Princess Elinor raised her eyes from the documents again. This time, her gaze held a hint of imperceptible inquiry. "William, is there something else?" Her voice was still steady, but William heard a warning in it, as if reminding him not to indulge in useless sentimentality.

William took a deep breath, deciding not to avoid this sharp question, even though he knew it might anger his wife. He needed confirmation, needed to find a perhaps selfish, but real, anchor for his heart, which was uneasy with guilt.

"Elinor," he chose his words carefully, his voice low, "I was just thinking... if, I mean, if it had been our Anne who needed to enter into a marriage alliance with the Hohenzollern family back then... would you still have made the same choice? Would you have been willing to let Anne face a husband like Leon Hohenzollern...?"

Having asked this, William felt a pang of guilt, as if he had exposed the most hidden corner beneath his wife's magnificent robe.

The fingers of Elinor's hand, which held the documents, tightened almost imperceptibly. Her deep eyes gazed at William, her stare like an ice pick, seeming to pierce through his innermost thoughts. The air in the study seemed to freeze, even the sandalwood smoke paused in its flow.

After a long while, just as William thought his wife would fly into a rage or respond with cold sarcasm, Elinor slowly, very faintly, sighed. The sigh was so brief it was almost an illusion, but it made William's heart lurch—it meant his wife was not entirely unmoved.

"William," Elinor's voice was lower than before, less of its usual sharpness, with an indescribable complexity, "you've asked a... very foolish question."

She gently placed the documents on her lap, her gaze drifting to the flickering flames in the fireplace, her eyes seeming distant. "Anne and Alisa are different."

"Different?" William pressed, wanting a clearer answer.

"Alisa is the daughter of the Windsor family, the child of Charles and Marjorie," Elinor's tone returned to calm, but her words were even more blunt. "She possesses exceptional magical talent. This talent gives her value, and it also gives her responsibility. Investing her in the Hohenzollern family was a consideration based on maximizing the overall interests of the family, and it was one of the best ways to realize her 'value.' I owe her no debt."

She paused, picked up her teacup, and rubbed the warm ceramic with her fingertips. "As for Anne... Anne is my daughter, your daughter, the legitimate daughter of the future Duke Windsor. Her value lies not only in a marriage alliance, but more importantly, in her representing the continuation of the Windsor main branch's bloodline and legitimacy."

Her gaze refocused on William, her eyes flashing with deeper, colder calculation. "The Hohenzollern family is important, certainly, but on the Empire's chessboard, they are not the only vassals. The eight Marquisates each have their own leverage, and the situation is constantly changing. To place Anne, a... more significant piece, prematurely and permanently on the Hohenzollern side would not be a wise move."

William's heart sank. He understood his wife's meaning. Alisa was a "high-value asset" used to bind a key ally; Anne, however, was a "core asset." Her marriage needed to be used to deal with more complex, more strategic situations, or at a critical moment, to win over new, stronger allies, or even... to pursue higher rewards! Such as that supreme position...

"So..." William's voice was a little dry, "Anne's future..."

"Anne's future has its own path," Elinor interrupted her husband, her tone decisive and carrying an unquestionable sense of control. "She is still young and needs to learn and grow, not be prematurely dragged into the mire of marriage alliances. I will find the most suitable partner for her, not necessarily a son of a Marquis, perhaps a young man of great potential, or perhaps... a family that can better ensure the Windsor family's absolute advantage in the future landscape. But in any case, it will never be a useless pawn like Leon Hohenzollern, who is destined to be uncontrollable."

She spoke so plainly, perfectly combining a mother's personal feelings with a politician's ruthlessness. She did not hesitate to sacrifice her niece Alisa's happiness because it was for the greater good of the family, and Alisa's "material" was sufficient to bear it (in her opinion). But to sacrifice her own daughter Anne? No, that would be "misallocation of resources." Anne deserved a better "investment target."

This naked double standard sent a chill down William's spine, but at the same time, he felt a strange sense of relief. At least it showed his wife had not completely lost her humanity; she still cherished and wanted to protect someone, even if that protection was still full of calculation.

"I understand," William said softly, no longer pressing. He knew this was his wife's modus operandi, and also the reason their family had been able to stand at the pinnacle of imperial power. Acting on emotion would only lead to destruction.

"It's good that you understand," Elinor seemed satisfied with her husband's "understanding." She picked up the documents again, but her tone softened slightly. "The Coming-of-Age Ceremony for Alisa must be handled well. This is for the Hohenzollern family to see, and for everyone in the Imperial Capital to see. As for Anne... let her happily attend the banquet. She doesn't need to bear these burdens yet."

She paused, as if talking to herself, or perhaps to William. "The eight Marquisates... the Roland Family is wealthy but reclusive; Gilbert is a staunch ally of the Hohenzollerns; Metternich is playing both sides; Balk is Metternich's echo; Croitz and Wolfstein are semi-independent... There are still many variables in the future. Our Windsor family's chips must be used on the most critical edge."

William nodded silently. He watched his wife's profile as she immersed herself once more in the world of political maneuvering. The guilt he felt towards his niece Alisa seemed to be replaced by a grander, and more powerless, sense of fate. In this family, everyone was destined to be a piece on the chessboard from birth; the only difference was whether they were a pawn to be sacrificed or a key piece that decided the game.

And his daughter Anne, perhaps at this very moment, was in her room, trying on a beautiful dress for tomorrow's banquet in front of the mirror, dreaming of romantic encounters, completely unaware that her future had already been placed by her mother on a more precise and colder scale, waiting to be weighed for the greatest profit.

The Eldest Princess Elinor continued her planning. To her, her daughter was a precious chip, her niece a usable asset, and her husband a necessary partner. Everything was for the sake of allowing the Windsor family, and her own lineage, to ride the waves and reach the shores of power amidst the impending, unavoidable storm. As for the small amount of personal feelings and emotions mixed in, they were merely minor embellishments on the long road to power, insignificant to the overall situation.