Chapter Text
A faint, almost tired smile touched Ursa’s lips.
Not amused.
Disappointed.
“Oh, what a performance you’ve given us, truly ” she said quietly.
The softness in her voice made the words cut deeper.
“One might even believe it…”
She tilted her head slightly.
“…if it weren’t for the missiles you’re so concerned about being fired, was fired with your order.”
The room shifted.
Ministers glanced at one another.
Yasu didn’t blink.
But his stillness sharpened.
Ursa’s eyes never left his.
⸻
Flashback
Ursa had not abandoned diplomacy.
Not yet.
Before going to the meeting chambers she first went to her study.
Her first call went to a trusted informant across the sea.
The line had crackled. The voice had been hurried, hushed.
“No mobilization,” he’d said. “No orders issued. We learned about the strikes when you did.”
That alone had chilled her.
But suspicion was not proof.
She moved to the secure line — the one rarely used, the one meant for moments that could tip nations into war.
She placed the call again.
Waited.
Each ring stretched longer than the last.
Then — connection.
On the other end of the line, the Earth Kingdom foreign minister appeared, exhaustion carved into every line of her face. Not the look of someone executing a plan.
“We did not authorize any strike,” the minister said firmly. “Our fleets haven’t even left harbor. If someone is trying to provoke a war…”
A pause. A shared understanding.
“…it isn’t us.”
Ursa listened her closely.
Not just the words.
The breath between them. The fear she wasn’t trying to hide.
And that was when the shape of it began to form.
This wasn’t retaliation.
It was orchestration.
Someone needed two nations looking at each other—
So they wouldn’t look at the hand lighting the fuse.
⸻————————————————————-
Back to the Chamber
Ursa’s voice was steadier now.
“I spoke with the Earth Kingdom foreign minister personally.”
A murmur rippled.
“They were as surprised as we were. Confused. Unprepared. Afraid.”
Her gaze hardened.
“Only one side in this conflict was ready.”
Silence dropped like a weight.
Yasu’s expression remained composed — but now he was listening, not guiding.
“You didn’t miscalculate,” Ursa said softly.
“You orchestrated.”
A minister swallowed.
“That’s a serious accusation,” Yasu replied smoothly.
“It’s not an accusation it’s the cold hard truth .”
She took a step forward.
“You created an external threat to manufacture urgency. You needed fear loud enough to drown out scrutiny.”
Her voice lowered.
“So you could walk in today and deem it necessity.”
“You mobilised the army against each other, and now you come here standing before all of us,deeming what you’re doing patriotic when you’re the biggest threat to this nation.”
The room wasn’t divided now.
It was stunned.
Because this wasn’t ideology.
This was exposure.
Yasu studied her for a long moment.
Then, very quietly:
“You’re tired, Ursa.”
There it was again.
The reframing.
Concern.
Doubt.
A ruler “overwhelmed.”
But this time—
Fewer people were listening.