NOVEL WEB Book 5: Chapter 2
“Hey, Claudius. Do you know about Soljest?”
This question had come from Wein’s little sister, the princess of Natra—Falanya Elk Arbalest.
With her textbook within arm’s reach, she had turned toward an elderly man standing nearby—Claudius. Her tutor.
“Of course,” he replied, nodding politely. “It’s a powerful nation with a militant army and rich culture. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone from the West who isn’t familiar with Soljest.”
“It’s ruled by one of the Holy Elites, King Gruyere. What’s he like?”
“I have not looked upon him myself, but he’s known as the biggest glutton on the continent. There’s no shortage of food-related rumors surrounding his personage. ‘The Pig King lives off pork.’ ‘Capable of devouring half the nation.’ ‘The only things infinite are God’s love and his appetite.’”
“Half the nation…”
“Do you remember the ceremony from the other day? It used to be a ritual to give thanks to the nation’s bounty. This changed once King Gruyere ascended to the throne. I hear the royal capital spends this time gorging themselves and relishing in every culinary delight on the continent.”
“Oh gosh…” Falanya put on a pained smile.
She was imagining a giant, intoxicated by the party spirit, clutching the entire city, ready to cram it into its gaping mouth.
“Of course, his appetite isn’t his only trait. He’s been king for over twenty years. One glance at their wealth serves as proof of his political prowess.”
Claudius thumbed through the textbook in his hand, looking at a map of the area around Natra. It included Marden and Soljest in the West.
“Their kingdom has always had a warm-water port, allowing it to build its fortune through trade with foreign nations. Since the start of his reign, that harbor has gotten bigger, expanding their imports. And when it comes to war, he’s achieved victory by personally leading his men to battle.”
Claudius continued. “Though he’s particular about his food, he is generous and admired by his subjects. Anyone would agree he’s a wise ruler.”
“That’s impressive…” Falanya marveled, sighing with wonder.
It was easy to run a kingdom to ruin, but hard work to get it to flourish.
Even though she was young, she understood King Gruyere had to be a big deal if he could maintain a golden age for twenty years after ascending to the throne.
“So that’s where Wein will be going…” Falanya thought for a moment. “Do you think they want to be our ally?”
“Could be,” Claudius replied, nodding. “Even if it’s not for an alliance, their kingdom might want to show an interest in developing friendly relations with surrounding nations. After all, they’d been fighting against Delunio since King Gruyere rose to power.”
The Kingdom of Delunio was another nation in the West, situated next to Marden. Located southwest of Marden and south of Soljest, Delunio had had a rocky relationship with Soljest for decades.
“I’ve heard Marden had been called to facilitate between the two nations when it was still independent. Now that it’s a part of Natra, Soljest might be hoping we’ll take over the role. The logical step would be to reach out first and curry our favor.”
“…Makes sense. If Natra and Delunio ended up on friendly terms and formed an alliance, that would spell trouble for Soljest.” Falanya nodded.
Claudius broke into a smile.
“Hmm? What is it, Claudius?”
“Oh. Pay me no mind… It seems you’ve gotten a lot out of the incident in Mealtars. You’ve grown, Princess Falanya.”
“Really?” She looked down at her own body. “I suppose I did get a little taller…” She scrunched up her face to scrutinize this change.
He gazed at her with soft eyes. Though she couldn’t see it for herself, those in her inner circle had picked up on this development. Once childish and unreliable, Falanya had grown a spine since her return from Mealtars.
“You never used to be interested in foreign affairs, Princess. But you’ve been taking your studies very seriously to support Prince Wein. It’s proof of your physical and mental maturity. Very impressive.”
“R-really?” Falanya blushed upon receiving praise from her strict tutor.
Claudius wasn’t finished. “Which is why I must tell you something.”
His gaze sharpened. Falanya straightened her spine.
He faced her and spoke slowly. “Since the incident in Mealtars, many people on this continent have become aware of your name. The citizens toast to you. The vassals are moved by your growth. It has shown to the world that there’s someone on equal footing with Prince Wein in Natra.”
“What…? I can’t possibly compare to my brother.”
“Please pardon my rudeness. I must agree. Your abilities and achievements are far from those of Prince Wein. The citizens know this. But their perspective will change as you make more progress.”
“…”
She understood what he was implying. If she continued to make great strides, they might insist she was on the same level as Wein.
So what?
Is it necessarily a bad thing to be praised for being on the same level as my brother? If I can prove myself, I can take off a load off his back. If he collapsed again like back in Mealtars, then I—
She suddenly realized something—comprehending what it meant to step in for the prince.
The blood drained from her face.
“You’re right, Princess Falanya,” Claudius said. “Prince Wein is slanted to be the future king… But as you become more famous, I imagine there will be those saying you are better suited to inherit the throne.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Falanya shouted. “Wein will be the next king. For anyone to think I would take that from him…!”
“I understand. I know your feelings and your bond with your brother. Consider it nothing more than a joke in poor taste. But,” he continued, “the founder, Salema, and his older brother, Galea, were unable to escape the battle over inheritance, though they were known for being close.”
“…Ngh.”
Salema and Galea were princes of the former nation of Naliavene. The factions for both sides had bloated out of control. In the end, Salema abandoned his homeland to establish Natra.
“…Did I overstep boundaries? Should I have sat out even though Wein was in trouble?”
Falanya had stumbled on her way to help him, cursing herself for her own powerlessness. It was nothing like her days as a pampered princess. It had been grueling work, but she thought it had given her insight into the political realm.
However, if it came at the cost of the detriment of Wein and Natra, she had played the part of a fool.
Claudius tried to squash her worries. “Never. As the continent has started to experience unrest, your support was critical… Indispensable, even.”
“But…”
“Think of it as the good of the nation, Princess Falanya,” he continued. “From here on out, I’m sure there will be people drawn to your fame and attempt to earn your favor. Do not be moved by their words. Follow your own judgment and support Prince Wein. That is your next trial.”
“My trial…”
The memory of her delivering a speech in Mealtars flashed in her mind. She’d never been so nervous. “Trial” seemed to be an appropriate word—and she had managed to overcome it.
…More roadblocks lie ahead, even though this is done…
And they would continue for the rest of her life.
Her esteemed brother had managed to overcome his fair share of challenges. She couldn’t let one successful trial get to her head as his little sister.
“I’ll do it,” she said after a long pause. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing. I’ll support my brother and this nation.”
She turned to Claudius.
“As payback for making me worry, I’ll make you help me out.”
Claudius flashed her a look of shock, but it didn’t take long for him to break into a smile and bow.
“And I shall do my best to serve Your Highnesses and Natra.”
She shifted her gaze to the window. The western sky reflected in her eyes.
Somewhere under the same sky was her brother. She wondered how he was doing.
“Ngh…”
On the main road to Tholituke in Marden.
Protected on all sides by guards and his retinue, the carriage swayed forward. Inside, Wein had let out a troubled moan.
The source of his consternation was the cards in his hand. Across from him, Ninym clutched on to her set. They were passing the time with games until they reached their destination.
Based on their expressions, Wein was at a disadvantage. After all, his mind was elsewhere. As to why—
“This isn’t the first time. Why do you care about it so much?” Ninym ran her fingers through her hair, looking exasperated.
The strands were black. She’d dyed it again, since they were traveling through the West.
“Please let me touch it.”
“I said no. The color will rub out.”
“Pretty please? Don’t I have princely privileges?”
“No.”
“Aww. Come on.” Wein sulked, drawing another card from the deck.
His eyed widened a little bit.
“…How about if I win?”
“Must have been a good card.” She broke into a sarcastic smile.
He was being almost too obvious. Ninym knew things could get ugly if she gave him the cold shoulder.
“Fine… But if I win, I get to dye your hair.”
“My hair? What’s so fun about that?” Wein fiddled with his bangs, tilting his head to the side.
Ninym looked like this was her best idea yet.
“Everything. I have a feeling this will be good. No one is forcing you, but if you say no, my hair is off-limits, too.”
“Hmm…” He peeked at his hand before looking back at her. “You’re on.”
“We have a deal, then. Okay. Let’s show each other our hands on three. One… Two… Three… Go.”
Wein was mentally chuckling to himself.
—Heh, I’ve got you, Ninym!
While he’d distracted her with his bangs, he’d used his other hand to swap out his cards with the ones he needed in the discard pile.
I’m holding the second-best set of cards! I didn’t have the cards to make the hand with the highest possible value, but I just discarded the card she needs to win! In other words, this battle is—
“I win.”
“WHAAAAAT?!” Wein let out a shriek as he witnessed the perfect hand before his eyes.
“W-wait, Miss Ninym! How did you do that?!”
“By drawing cards, obviously. But I won’t tell you from where.”
“Gweh.”
In other words, Ninym had switched her card for the one he’d just swapped out.
“I think I remember seeing your cards in the discard pile, Wein.”
“Y-yeah? Are you sure your memory isn’t playing tricks on you, Miss Ninym?”
“Whatever. I still win.”
“AAAAAAH!”
Wein was getting the bitter taste of defeat. Next to him, Ninym seemed gleeful as she took out dyes from an unknown source.
“The quality could be better, but we have a whole range of colors. Hmm… Black… White… Blond… Do you have a preference?”
“Whatever you want… Oh, maybe not blond. That would make me stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Blond it is.”
“Didn’t you just hear me?!”
“I think it’ll look good on you.”
It was the demand of a victorious tyrant. As the loser, Wein had no choice but to let her do whatever.
“Please change it back before we reach Tholituke…”
“Obviously. I’m sure Zenovia’s heart would stop if she saw you blond.” Ninym giggled, combing through his hair.
“Speaking of Zenovia. Do you think she knows?”
“Knows what?” Wein asked.
“—What else? The reason we’re attending the ceremony.”
“—To trade with Soljest, huh,” Zenovia murmured.
Jiva nodded. “I believe that’s why Prince Wein will be attending the ceremony.”
They were in her office at the palace. Other vassals were in attendance, which was why she had on a more severe expression and tone than usual.
He continued with his explanation. “At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before Marden becomes their strongest asset. By doing business with Soljest, which has access to maritime trade, I imagine they’re looking for other ways to profit outside of this territory.”
“I see… But if they’re trying to close the economic gap between Natra and Marden… Doesn’t that mean we’ll be perceived as less of a threat?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
For the top brass of Marden, their highest priority was to stabilize their territory and assimilate into the bigger kingdom. With the wave of prosperity, they were basically calling attention to themselves, while Natra lagged behind. If Natra could secure another source of income, Marden would be able to integrate into the kingdom with no hard feelings.
This situation was a welcome one. There was no reason to interfere. Along with the vassals, Zenovia let out a sigh of relief.
Jiva continued. “By diminishing risk, we diminish our value. Look at us now. Marden is very valuable. Let’s say we promise to slow our progress to support Natra. Maybe we can negotiate to get something from them, too.”
Everyone began to stir.
“We just swore allegiance to them. Slowing our progress would only divide our people.”
“Lady Zenovia is a member of the royal family. So what if we allied with Natra? Why should we dance to their tune?”
“Marden won’t be able to uphold this prosperity on its own. We can’t stop trading with the East.”
As they discussed among themselves, Zenovia spoke up.
“To pull off this plan… We have one chance. We must settle this before he makes his way to Soljest. Right?”
“Indeed.”
“In that case, we don’t have much time to prepare… What do you think we should ask for in return, Jiva?”
He paused for a moment to think it over.
“—A marital union with Prince Wein, Lady Zenovia.”
“So, do you plan on marrying Zenovia, Wein?”
“Nope,” Wein said indifferently. “I imagine they’ll try to bring it up. But I’m a man of my word: When push comes to shove, I’ll abandon the kingdom eventually! …Yow! Stop yanking my hair!”
“Sorry. My hand just slipped.”
Very convenient, Wein thought to himself. Pointing it out would only invite her to pull his hair from the roots.
He sighed in resignation. “That aside, I want to stay single for the time being.”
“And your ulterior motive?”
“To spend more time mingling with the ladies, obviously! I want to enjoy this for as long as possible! …Stop! Ninym! I was just joking…! Put down the scissors! Stop trying to cut off my hair!”
“Sorry. Hand slipped again.”
“I kid! I kid! The real reason is…I won’t be able to dangle marriage as a negotiating tool to secure foreign alliances. That’s why I have to be single!”
“Hmph…You have a point.”
“Told you. Well, I guess I’ll have to reconsider if our negotiations with Soljest fall through. I have two options: opening a new trade route or going the marriage route. Out of the two, I would want to avoid the latter, obviously. After all, I can reuse that one with other nations!”
Wein made it sound logical.
Ninym hesitated. “…Well, what about taking Zenovia as a mistress?”
“That’d be tough to pull off,” he answered without missing a beat. “I mean, she used to be a princess. And I hear she’s the glue holding the territory together. It would be one thing if I were already married, but if I asked her to be my mistress from the get-go, it would be like begging for Marden to fight against me.”
If they tied the knot, the feudal lords would object that he was getting too comfortable with their newest territory. It would be hard to deal with resistance from the people of Marden on top of that.
“Basically, we just want to see if they will cooperate with us! If they’re willing to lend us a hand, I imagine they’ll push for our marital union. But my plan is to dodge the issue…!”
Huh. He sucks, Ninym thought.
“I imagine Prince Wein will try to avoid the subject of marriage,” Jiva said.
All eyes were on him.
“At the very least, he will try to remain neutral until he can work things out with Soljest. Our course of action is to receive a solid answer during his stay.”
“Then we won’t be treated as outsiders anymore. It’d be easier to say our piece in the political realm,” Zenovia observed.
“I imagine the other lords will not be pleased, but if Marden and the Arbalests combine forces, no one will be able to oppose it.”
Jiva spoke the truth. The royal family and this territory were a cut above the rest. If their representatives tied the knot, they would be rock-solid.
“What do you think, Lady Zenovia? If I may have your approval, I shall begin preparations at once.”
“……”
There was no reason to hesitate. Marrying Wein was the best thing for their future. It made sense to take advantage of their wealth to make their demands. After all, it would be mutually beneficial.
As a matter of politics, there was no reason to hold back.
So Zenovia gave her answer.
“By the way, Wein.”
“Hmm? What’s up?”
He didn’t move a muscle as he looked at her.
Ninym seemed timid. “Um, well, this is a hypothetical situation, but…”
“…Uh-huh. Totally hypothetical. Gotcha. What?”
He never would have imagined seeing her this way.
Although his little sister liked to tack on this preface during their conversations, Wein was trying to figure out Ninym’s reason for being cagey now.
“You won’t get angry at me if I messed up your hair, right?”
“If you’re asking me now, you already have, haven’t you?”
Ninym averted his gaze. “Um… No? …Totally unrelated, but I think you should avoid mirrors for a while.”
“W-wait. What?! What do you mean?! What did you do to my hair?!”
“I didn’t think it would turn out this way…”
“Why do you look like you’re giving up on me, Miss Ninym?!”
The carriage inched toward Tholituke as Wein writhed in agony—coming out of this situation as a loser once again.
“I appreciate you coming all this way, Prince Wein.”
Wein’s group had passed through the castle gates to Tholituke. Welcoming them into the renovated Elythro Palace was Zenovia, dressed to the nines in full regalia.
“You didn’t need to come greet us at the door, Marquess of Marden.”
She offered him a tiny smile. “No need to be so formal, Your Highness. ‘Zenovia’ is just fine.”
“But you’re a marquess and the former princess of Marden. I shouldn’t be too casual, even if I am a prince.”
“Nonsense. I’ve vowed vassalage to Natra. Not to mention, we’ve stood side by side on a battlefield. This isn’t improper. It’s a sign of our friendship.”
“Hm…”
After making a show of thinking it over for a few moments, he smiled.
“Well then, I suppose I’ll take you up on that, Lady Zenovia.”
“We’ve prepared a modest celebration for you. Please follow me this way.”
Led by Zenovia, they strode down the palace hallways.
“You did great things with the palace.”
“Thank you. I must give credit to our subjects. They insisted we not leave our symbol burned to the ground.”
“I caught a quick glimpse of the town on the way here. I was surprised to find hardly any trace of the war against Cavarin. I imagined the people of Marden would be in chaos, but I’m forever impressed by your skills, Lady Zenovia.”
There was an underlying barb about her surprise attack to swear her vassalage…
“Only because Natra has welcomed us in. Had you not, the flag of Cavarin would be flying in these lands as we speak,” she answered, breaking into an unexpected smile. “Our banquet is an expression of our gratitude… Hm?”
Her eyes traveled to his hair.
“Is something the matter?”
“It must be my imagination. I thought your hair seemed more brilliant than usual.”
“…Ha-ha-ha. The sun of the golden age must have lightened it!”
Wein glanced behind him. Ninym avoided his gaze.
“Hee-hee. Is that it? A mischievous little sun.”
“An outright insolent one, really…”
They had arrived at the reception hall.
Hmm, interesting.
One look told him everything he needed to know. The decor and cuisine were all from Natra.
It screams they want to be “one of us.”
After all, they had intentionally shed their own culture to align themselves with Natra.
When the Imperial delegation had come to his kingdom, Wein had prepared their cuisine, too. However, Marden had taken it a step further by decking out their halls with new furnishings.
“I imagine you’re tired from your journey. We wanted to prepare something familiar for you.”
Wein and Zenovia sat in the seats of honor while his retinue was welcomed by the vassals of Marden. Ninym was standing at attention behind the prince, prepared for anything.
“Thank you for your consideration… Between the two of us, I’m relieved you prepared this. I think I can stop myself from slipping up in front of you, Zenovia.”
“How kind of you, Your Highness.”
He didn’t just get a read of their concession. During the planning stages of the party, there had to be a fair share of vassals pushing to show their own culture, stubbornly holding on to their patriotism. However, the fact that Zenovia had reined in their opinions spoke to her skills.
I’m honestly impressed. Even though she’s royalty, I imagine some people will look down on her as a woman.
Across the continent, there was a deep-seated belief that politics was a man’s game.
In truth, many of the political leaders were men, which meant laws were made by men, for men, and upheld by men…a boys’ club, so to speak.
If a woman tried to make room for herself, they would assume a look of mixed emotions. “Oh, um… That won’t work…” they might stammer.
It had been the case when Zenovia earned a title of nobility in Natra.
As former foreign royalty, she possessed enough power to rival the Arbalests. It was only natural to bestow the title of marquess upon her.
However, it didn’t stop the nobles from taking umbrage with this.
“Giving a woman the title of marquess is in poor judgment.”
This was their basic argument, though they went through some mental gymnastics to make other excuses.
Though things varied by country, the nobility system was basically all make-believe—which was often symptomatic of these so-called “boys’ clubs.”
There were instances of women granted peerage in the history of Natra, but they were regarded as rare exceptions to the arbitrary rule that “noble rank is the privilege of men.”
Well, I made it happen anyway.
They had tried to argue for a lower rank and the creation of a new female title, but one word from Wein was enough to make her a marquess, like he’d planned.
At any rate, it wasn’t easy for a woman to stand on the political stage. Even so, Zenovia had captured the hearts of her people as the lord of Marden. It was honestly commendable.
“I hear the territory has become stable. I’m glad business is booming.”
“Having viable industries is like a breath of fresh air.” Zenovia nodded to herself. “I never imagined goods from the Empire would reap such profits.”
“We’re all attracted to things beyond reach.”
“That seems to be the case. But I don’t think that’s the only explanation. We’ve been indoctrinated by the Teachings of Levetia that the East is comprised of barbaric groups who are ignorant to religion and capable of making only the crudest of items.”
To devout followers, goods from the Empire were almost blasphemous. Despite their curiosity, many refused to have anything to do with them.
Then how did they develop a market for them?
“I was surprised. I never expected you to market them as products from Natra.”
Wein purred. “It was a little scheme meant to ease the hearts of the pious and devout. I imagine they know the truth.”
“You sound like a devil luring humans to hell.”
“Oh, please. The devil is content with a mere human soul. It could never do business in gold like me.”
They carried on in congenial conversation.
However, Wein didn’t let down his guard for a moment, observing Zenovia.
This has been enough for me to understand her intentions.
All signs pointed to Marden wanting to cooperate with Natra, but that couldn’t be everything up their sleeve. If Wein was on the mark, they would eventually bring up marriage.
But it would be boring for me to sit back and wait.
Wein waited for a lull in the conversation before pressing further.
“By the way, Lady Zenovia, it seems you’re handling the affairs of Marden well. But rapid development could spell problems. If you have any concerns, I’d be happy to talk them over.”
Fighting words. The vassals of Marden stirred.
“Let’s see…”
However, Zenovia would not be moved. Not outwardly, at least. As Wein observed her closely, she seemed to think it over.
“You know, we’ve received a letter of protest from Delunio.”
“Delunio? …I see. So Marden got one, too?”
“Ah, I knew you received one as well.”
Wein nodded. “What do you think of them, Lady Zenovia? We aren’t on the best terms, so we don’t have much information on them.”
“Yes, well…” Zenovia thought for a moment. “I know their citizens have long been followers of Levetia. They hold their culture in high esteem. They’re known for being a conservative nation. A young king has recently taken the throne, but the prime minister, Sirgis, is handling most political matters.”
Zenovia continued. “Sirgis is very patriotic and a devout follower of Levetia. Since being granted real authority, he’s made it his mission to protect their culture and spread the teachings.”
“Sounds like a tough place to live.”
“Yes. To preserve their own ideologies, he’s been critical of other nations. The youth aren’t his biggest fans, and even the conservatives think he’s going too far. It seems his politics have played a part in their deteriorating relationship with Soljest.”
Got it, Wein thought.
Soljest traded with other nations, which resulted in the spread of goods and ideas. It must have annoyed someone like Sirgis, who seemed to be a cultural purist.
“In that context, the letter makes sense. Soljest isn’t the only one committing this ‘offense.’ Marden is importing goods and customs through the Empire.”
“It was just a letter this time, but I imagine they’ll send a diplomat before resorting to military force. The correspondence included a request for a meeting. I declined because it coincided with Your Highness’s visit.” Zenovia looked at him for help.
Wein grinned. “Ignore it and keep doing business.”
“Are you sure?”
“If they only sent a letter, they can’t be that upset. Start taking them seriously when there’s a line of messengers protesting at your door.”
“I see. Then that’s how I’ll proceed.”
Wein gave a satisfied nod before realizing something.
…Hm? The conversation is over.
When he asked if she had any concerns, he thought she’d allude to the domestic disparity or a martial union—but it seemed he was off the mark.
I guess she can’t stand the idea of dancing to my tune. Does that mean she’s about to make her move?
Wein stayed on guard as he continued talking to Zenovia.
Hm?
Neither she nor her vassals broached the subject of marriage.
What?!
As their conversation went on, he grew more confused—
Huuuuh ?!
Finally, the banquet came to an end…
…All without Zenovia uttering one word about marriage.
“…That was weird.”
Wein had returned to the room prepared for him. He crossed his arms.
“Even though I tried to bait her, she never mentioned marriage…”
“I was surprised myself.” Ninym had been watching their exchange. “It seems to me like she actually may have been actively trying to avoid it.”
“But there’s no better time to bring up this proposal…” Wein groaned. “Nghhh.”
Next to him, Ninym offered a small smile. “And you were so confident when you said they would demand marriage.”
“Ack.”
“Yet instead of acting the way you hoped, they completely avoided the topic.”
“Ngh.”
“Could this be what they call ‘an inflated ego’?”
“AAAAAAAH?!”
The barrage of verbal knives brought Wein to his knees.
“Th-this can’t be happening… I was supposed to suavely turn down her proposal…”
“By the end of the banquet, it was like you were begging for one. It was honestly pathetic.”
“GAAAAAAAAH?!” He collapsed onto the floor.
Someone knocked on the door.
“I do not have an ego…” Wein glared at Ninym as she went to answer it.
Outside the room stood Jiva, who served Zenovia.
“I apologize for interrupting you at this hour. I would like to briefly discuss your schedule for tomorrow.”
Ninym quickly looked behind her. Just a moment prior, Wein had been a dead man on the floor, but he’d managed to sit straight in a chair, holding a book in one hand and looking perfectly regal.
“I don’t mind. Show him in, Ninym.”
“Right this way, Sir Jiva.”
Jiva entered the room as he was bidden.
Wein looked at him. “How can I help you?”
“I’m terribly sorry for visiting at this hour. You were scheduled for a meeting over lunch with Lady Zenovia, but something came up that requires her attention. I came to inform you she may not have the time.”
Wein and Ninym exchanged a look.
A sudden change in schedule wasn’t strange. Wein knew the feeling himself.
However, his stay was their chance to put their plans into action. After all, Wein was on his way to Soljest, departing Marden in two or three days. It made more sense to leave any governmental affairs on hold until afterward.
It must be a huge deal if she’s postponing our lunch meeting—
It didn’t take him long to cancel out that possibility. Despite calling it an “emergency,” Jiva didn’t seem to be especially frazzled.
In that case, she might be trying to distance herself from me. Then why would she throw a fancy welcome party? I got the impression she wanted to work together.
Her moves weren’t adding up. Wein thought of a number of hypotheses, but none held any weight or connected any dots.
Thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere. Wein spoke up.
“In that case, I guess there isn’t much we can do. It’s unfortunate that things didn’t work out, but the stability of Marden is crucial to Natra. Please tell Lady Zenovia that I gave her the go-ahead to take care of her official duties.”
“I will. Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness.” Jiva bowed.
Ninym spoke up beside him. “That means our schedule will be empty in the afternoon.”
“You’re right. There are plenty of ways to kill time, but…” Wein mused.
Jiva raised his head. “About that. I would love to guide you around the city.”
“Oh. The city, huh?”
He nodded. “When we were first liberated, our streets were ravaged by war, and I believe I remember things kept you busy from seeing our town for what it is, Your Highness. I would be delighted for you to observe our efforts to revitalize the territory.”
“Hmm…”
Obviously, this wasn’t going to be some stroll through town. Wein could tell the man was up to something—but it was hard to say what exactly.
Well, guess we’ve got no choice but to just go along with it.
Wein nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’m looking forward doing some sightseeing tomorrow. Ninym, I’ll leave the details up to you.”
“Understood.”
“Thank you very much. I’ll prepare a guide.” Jiva bowed again. “Well, I’ll take my leave. I’m grateful for your willingness to speak with me.”
He turned on his heel and quietly exited the room.
Ninym tilted her head, looking troubled. “I wonder what that was all about.”
“No idea, but something is bound to happen tomorrow. I’ll finally find out why there’s been no talk of marriage yet…I think!”
“I hope it’s not just your ego talking. For your sake.”
“Anything but that…! My pride is on the line here…!”
Wein secretly prayed as he awaited the coming day.
The following afternoon.
“I apologize for the wait, Prince Wein.”
The guide before them was a former member of the retinue that had accompanied them to the Cavarin capital. She had disguised herself as a young man.
Zeno.
Ah, I get it now… Wein concluded.
I see, Ninym thought.
They immediately understood the situation.
Zeno was Zenovia in disguise. She’d had reason to hide her identity before, but Wein was taken aback by her reappearance.
“I’m honored to meet you again, Your Highness.”
“Uh-huh. Sure… By the way, Zeno, what are you up to now?”
“I’m one of Lady Zenovia’s attendants. Since she’s so busy, I keep an eye on the city in her place.”
That was the pretend scenario. As “Zeno,” Zenovia could take a little break from her official duties. Wein didn’t do that for safety reasons, but he could understand the feeling of wanting to get away and walk around town once in a while.
“I have a message from Lady Zenovia.”
Zeno cleared her throat.
“‘Please think of your guide as me and enjoy seeing the sights. Feel free to ask any questions. Walking through town is a good chance for conversation.’”
“…I see.”
Instead of a typical meeting, she planned to have an open discussion as they strolled through the city. She must have had some things she couldn’t say as a feudal lord to a regent.
Wein gave a wry smile and finally nodded. “Well then, I’ll take Lady Zenovia up on that offer. Lead the way, Zeno.”
“Understood. Right this way.”
With Zeno guiding them, Wein stepped into the city proper.
“This is the central plaza.”
Zeno led them straight ahead into the heart of the city.
“When thinking about Tholituke, the first thing that comes to mind is its bronze statues.”
Statues of horsemen circled the outer rim of the plaza. A bronze king on horseback stood at the very center.
“This is the first ruler of Marden. The others depict his most trusted men.”
“Hmm… I don’t recall seeing this when you were liberated.”
“Cavarin took it away during the occupation…” Zeno replied with frustration before straightening her spine. “However, it was safely returned via negotiation. It’s a part of our history, so the vassals were all relieved.”
“That’s fortunate. You’ll have to make sure it never happens again.”
“You’re right. I hope to prevent anyone from ever melting them.”
Metals were an indispensable part of warfare, so there were never enough. With a shortage of weapons, statues were often broken down and repurposed.
“Marden has not fully recovered from battle. Our hearts may have calmed, but another war will send us spiraling. I wish peace were here to stay.”
“I totally agree, but I don’t think you need to be so worried,” Wein said, testing the waters. “If this boom lasts, Marden will be a powerhouse. Once you reach that status, you’ll be able to push aside any outside forces that get in your way.”
“Strength is crucial. But in excess, it can lead to problems. For now, I believe it is more important for us to be accepted as a part of Natra.”
“I wonder about that.”
He seemed to probe her with his eyes, searching for the truth.
“Won’t it be better if you became more powerful, joined forces with another nation, and strived for independence?”
Zeno laughed. “You love to joke around. Based on your accomplishments, it would be foolish for us to band with another nation and cross swords with Natra. It’s like jumping into the sea with an anchor tied to your foot.”
“Huh… I wonder if Lady Zenovia feels the same way.”
“Of course,” Zeno replied assuredly. “Even the vassals believe that future prosperity lies in being accepted as part of your kingdom.”
“I see…”
Their smiles seemed combative. Their gazes seemed to examine each other.
For a few beats, they seemed determined to get the truth out of their opponent—even if it was the tiniest fragment.
Zeno was the first to break away.
“Let’s head to the next location. There is so much to see.”
They continued their stroll through Tholituke. Zeno guided them to the carved fountain, a time-worn bridge that spanned across the river, and everything else the city had to offer. He could tell from the joy in her voice that she wasn’t just knowledgeable about this place; she loved it.
“…Phew. That took some time.”
They had covered most of the town. The party was taking a break at a restaurant Zeno often frequented. She’d apparently rented out the entire establishment ahead of time.
“What is your honest opinion of Tholituke?”
“I gotta say, I’m impressed,” Wein replied, holding a cup of black tea. “The tourist spots were incredible, but I think I was most moved by your people. It’s clear they have faith in Lady Zenovia.”
“We have high hopes for her, especially with this new economic boom.”
“That’s good to hear. There’s nothing bad about building trust between politicians and the people. Of course, you can’t be too careful.”
Wein hadn’t thought twice about that statement, but Zeno seemed to latch on to it.
“I’ve been meaning to ask… What makes you so wary of the people, Your Highness?”
“What?” Wein blinked back.
He wondered if she might be trying to get something out of him, but her behavior seemed to indicate otherwise.
Zeno hemmed and hawed. “I guess that’s the wrong word… Maybe ‘distant’? There’s something weird about your relationship with them… I guess it just struck me when you said before I should view the people as mere accomplices in achieving my own goals.”
“Oh right.” Wein smiled at the memory. “I did say that, but…that’s strange. I remember talking to Lady Zenovia.”
“Ah. Oh…um…I heard it from her.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Wein laughed dryly as the gears in his mind began to turn. “About that… I have a question for you, Zeno. Do you think royal blood is precious?”
“What?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t miss a beat.
“Yes… Of course. As representatives of the people and rulers of the land, nobility and royalty are to be treasured. It isn’t just the aristocrats who think that way. Commoners do, too.”
Wein nodded. She wasn’t wrong: This concept of lineage was nothing new. It was a system of values held by almost everyone.
“Well then, here’s another question: When did it become important?”
“…When?”
This time, Zeno had to stop and think. She must not have ever reflected on it. Her face grew troubled as if she were looking at a numeric formula. Wein decided to extend a helping hand.
“I’m a member of the royal family in Natra. If you think noble lineage means something, that suggests mine does, too. In that case, when did my blood gain value?”
Zeno thought for a few moments. “…You’ve always had it. Your blood has possessed worth since you were born as King Owen’s son.”
“That’s right. A child born into royalty inherits royal blood. If that’s true, when did Owen become someone of importance?”
“Since King Owen’s father was royalty… When he was born?”
“Exactly. Children born into royalty have worth because their parents have value. And their parents, because of their parents’ parents. Logic, really. Simple.” Wein looked over at Ninym. “If we trace back my lineage, where will we end up?”
“One of the founder of Levetia’s lead disciples, Caleus.”
One of Wein’s ancestors was King Salema, who founded Natra and once was the prince of a country known as Naliavene. That meant Wein’s lineage dated back to its history, all the way to Caleus.
“The great disciple. Ask anyone about his blood. You’d be hard pressed to find someone who thinks it doesn’t have value. Until Levetia discovered Caleus, he had been nothing more than a worthless peasant, which means his parents were peasants, too. Let me ask you again. When did Caleus’s blood become valuable?”
“That was…”
If the parents were important, so was their child. However, Caleus wasn’t born with noble blood. In other words, there had been a point in his life when it had crossed this boundary…
“…When he began to follow Levetia and found great success.”
“That’s right,” Wein replied. “Was it raw power, intelligence, eloquence, or just plain old luck? Any one of his strengths could have been the catalyst. But a nameless man had managed to achieve something and make a name for himself… And that’s how his blood and his descendants were seen as valuable. Trace back the history of any ‘precious’ lineage today, and this is where you’ll start.”
“…I think I understand. But what does that have to do with my question?”
“Don’t you get it? We’re drunk on our power, but go back a few centuries, and you’ll find we were once commoners. That means commoners today have the potential to become nobility and royalty one day.”
“ Ngh!”
Zeno looked like she couldn’t believe it.
It made sense when he put it like that. She’d just never realized it before. Or maybe she was playing willful ignorance. It was hard to blame her. How could she go against her own position as royalty?
But the prince is right… I can’t believe he can admit that himself…
It wasn’t just a scathing critique of the monarchy. It was a statement that could totally flip what it meant to be noble. If anyone else had said this out loud, they would have been hauled off to the guillotines—yet the tone of this future king made it seem like he was discussing the weather.
“Back to your original question… Why am I wary toward my people? The population of Natra is close to five hundred thousand people. Well, I guess we’re closer to eight hundred thousand with Marden. There’s got to be more than a handful of nameless candidates watching my every move throughout my entire reign… Why wouldn’t I be looking over my shoulder?”
A shiver went down Zeno’s spine. She’d never thought of commoners in that light. However, she could now see why he believed it was stranger to be blindly trusting.
Wein wasn’t pooh-poohing his subjects. He knew he had to fulfill his people’s needs. Otherwise, things would take a sour turn, and the nameless would drive him out. Just as his own ancestors had.
I finally get it… He doesn’t think his lineage is anything special.
Zeno finally realized why Wein had said they should think of the people as accomplices—a means to an end.
It wasn’t any different from a child of a baker encouraged to take over the family business by their environment, propelled by a demand for bread. Wein had been born into royalty, pushed to become a monarch over a nation because the people needed him. That was all there was to it.
If the people decided he no longer served a purpose, he would step down from the throne with a little chuckle.
How ironic that Wein understood his people more than she did, even though she’d bragged about leading the masses and he’d admitted to seeing his subjects as mere accomplices.
“That’s why royalty like to mythologize themselves. If they can get people to believe that they came from gods, their authority is harder to shake. In the case of Natra, Caleus has become lionized nowadays, so… What’s wrong, Zeno?”
“It’s nothing…” She offered him a smile as he looked at her quizzically. “I’m just in awe of your capacity as prince. Pay me no mind.”
“Really?” He blinked back before shrugging his shoulders. “Thanks, but I haven’t been too confident about that lately.”
“Why not? There isn’t anyone with more fame than you.”
“That’s what I thought.” Wein went in for the kill. “To tell you the truth, I thought someone was going to propose to me. But now I’ve been wondering if it’s all in my head.”
“……”
It took no time for Zenovia to realize he was talking about her.
“Maybe she’s already gotten betrothed behind my back?”
It was in Marden’s best interests for Zenovia to marry Wein. However, that wasn’t to say there weren’t other suitors. There had been a fair share of powerful nations trying to get on good terms with Marden. If she had already promised her hand in marriage to someone else, it would spark new problems with Natra, meaning it was better for Marden to keep this under wraps.
“…I know of no suitors…” Zeno chose her words carefully. “I don’t think she has time to think about marriage, especially when she has her hands full with things requiring her immediate attention as a citizen of Marden.”
“…But can’t she settle those ‘things’ by marrying me?”
“Maybe, but—”
Zeno stopped herself. After a few seconds of silence, she laughed at him in a mocking way.
“There might be a more simple reason to explain this.”
“What could that be?”
“Perhaps she can’t stand your face!”
“……” Wein hung his head.
“Um, that was a joke. Please don’t look so sad.”
“……”
“U-um. Well, this has been lovely, but I think it’s about time we returned to the palace!”
“……”
“A-at this time of day, the city looks totally different! Why don’t we take the long way home?”
As Zeno tried her best to keep the vibe light, they started to trudge back to the palace.
“…Phew.”
Having parted from Wein and taken off her disguise, Zenovia let out a sigh in her office.
“Excellent work today, Lady Zenovia,” Jiva praised.
“Any issues during my absence?”
“None whatsoever,” he declared. “Some paperwork needs to be looked over… But we can handle that after we see them off tomorrow.”
Zenovia nodded. “It hasn’t been easy, but it looks like we’ll make it through somehow.”
“Yes. All thanks to you… It seems he actually asked about a marital union today on your expedition.”
“He seemed to wonder what was taking so long.” She averted her eyes. “…I’m sorry, Jiva, for ignoring your advice to marry him.”
“Are you hearing yourself? You’re the ruler of this territory, Lady Zenovia. You will always be our top priority,” he replied. “Besides, I understand your feelings. Prince Wein is…”
“Uh-huh,” Zenovia confirmed with a humorless smile. “I could never tell him, but…he’s aloof and a little frightening.”
Her feelings for Wein were complicated.
Her biggest one was gratitude to him for aiding the Liberation Army. The next one was empathy and respect as a young leader, followed by envy and a feeling of inferiority over his accomplishments. She feared his frame of mind and ideas, which almost seemed divorced from his royal position, yet admired his craftiness and grit.
In summary, Wein was a distant, incredible, scary brand of hero.
“From our tour today and past interactions, I’m painfully aware I could never be his wife.”
If Zenovia were to marry Wein, she would naturally become his princess consort.
Back when she had known nothing about him, she would have been all in. However, though their time together had been short, Zenovia had come to view him in a hero’s light. She did not have confidence she could be the wind beneath his wings.
“Besides, his princess consort is the future queen. And that comes with many duties…”
She had been raised sheltered. Though she was studying up a storm, she was sorely lacking, which came at the cost of burdening her vassals. Handling the territory was tough enough. If she became Wein’s wife, she’d be weighed down with responsibility for Natra as a whole.
If there was peace, she could have rested in the palace in Natra, far from politics.
Not only was this was a period of unrest, but Natra was trying to make huge strides. If Zenovia became queen, her appointed role would not be a small one. She just didn’t believe in herself.
She’d already gotten a peek into Pandora’s box. Her decision was a simple one.
She knew marrying Wein would be a brilliant move, but her heart just wasn’t in it.
“I’m a failure…”
It would be much, much better if Imperial Princess Lowellmina married Wein. In fact, Zenovia would have taken the plunge if that were the case, serving as his mistress with the permission of her eager vassals. In fact, she had considered asking him about Princess Lowellmina during the welcome party.
Jiva suddenly spoke up. “Excuse me for overstepping boundaries, but when we wrestled this city from Cavarin’s grip, the vassals made two vows to you, Lady Zenovia.”
“What vows?” she asked, tilting her head.
Jiva continued. “One: We would do everything for the good of Marden. Two: We would never force you down a path against your will, even if it was the best thing for the territory.”
Zenovia’s eyes widened. She had known her vassals were giving it their best effort, but she never imagined they would go that far.
“If you feel that marriage to Prince Wein is not the answer, that’s all right. We’re coming together to form the best plan yet. Please be at ease.” He offered a small smile. “Between the two of us, I proposed this out of my duty as your vassal. Personally, I wasn’t too keen on this union.”
“Don’t you think highly of Prince Wein?”
“Of course. I don’t even have the right to appraise him. But his personality and conduct give cause for alarm… When I heard he’d slain the king of Cavarin and set fire to the city to make his escape, it made me doubt his sanity, to say the very least.”
“Ah. Well, that was rather off-putting to me as well.”
“Instead of agonizing over what’s past, it’s crucial that we face forward,” he’d said during the fiasco, which grossed her out even more. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see why no sane woman would choose to be his wife.
“You will need to get married at some point to secure an heir, but there are more than enough suitors for you. With successful negotiations between Natra and Soljest, we won’t be in any more danger, and you will have time to consider it at your leisure. We can discuss it with everyone.”
“You’re right… Thank you, Jiva.”
“Not at all. This is part of my duties.” He gave the young leader a reverent bow.
“Pardon me…!” A flustered official flew into the office.
“What is it?! Did something happen?” Jiva asked.
“Just now, at the main gate of the palace—”
Zenovia’s and Jiva’s eyes grew wide at the report.
Meanwhile, Wein was back in his room.
“An ugly man with a huge ego, huh…” he groaned as he stretched across the middle of the bed.
“Can you please get over it? It was her last-ditch excuse.”
Ninym was next to him. Nothing seemed to improve his mood.
She sighed. “Seems Zenovia has no plans to secretly team up with some other nation. That’s vital insight.”
“But now I really don’t know why she didn’t propose!”
“Maybe…some personal circumstances?”
“Like what?”
“…Like you’re not her type?”
“Be right back! Gonna kill myself!”
“Jump out from the window, and you’re just going to break your legs…!”
Wrestling Wein away from the window, Ninym searched for the right words to say.
“Besides, you can still be hot and not her type.”
“Say it. Tell me I’m hot.”
“…Do you hear something?”
“Hey! Don’t try to make excuses…! How typical, Miss Ninym…!”
“No. Wait.” She ignored his wailing.
He realized she was right when she opened the door. They could hear something happening outside.
“Wait here, Wein. I’m going to check.”
“While you’re gone, I’m going to sulk and hibernate forever.”
“It’s barely autumn.” She flashed him a dry smile before leaving the room.
It wasn’t long before she returned with a panicked look on her face.
“This is bad, Wein. It looks like Marden has a surprise guest.”
“Who could that be?” He cocked his head to the side.
Ninym was all serious. “The prime minister of Delunio, Sirgis.”
—How did this happen?
Zenovia’s mind turned this over in one of the palace’s reception rooms.
A short man sat directly across from her. His name was Sirgis, born a commoner, now serving as the prime minister of Delunio.
“I apologize for imposing on you with no warning, Princess Zenovia… I mean, Marquess,” Sirgis corrected pointedly as he bowed his head.
Nothing was warm about her gaze. “For a prime minister to breach the rules of conduct… You must know this reflects poorly on your kingdom.”
Her unapproachable attitude made Sirgis stiffen, as well as her aide Jiva and her guard Borgen.
“Jiva, she seems pissed,” Borgen whispered.
He gave the tiniest nod. “It’s not just about bad manners. Prince Wein is staying with us. She doesn’t want anyone to steal her fun.”
“But isn’t she being too difficult?”
“That’s just how it is.” Jiva sighed. “After all, Lady Zenovia hates Delunio.”
“What?” Borgen’s eyebrows shot up.
Sirgis replied. “I understand your anger. However, I’m only here to resolve a pressing issue between Delunio and Marden. I ask for your understanding.”
“What issue? That doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Oh please.” Sirgis seemed unfazed. “You must have received our letter. We have concerns regarding your exported goods.” His tone made it clear he wouldn’t allow any excuses.
Zenovia put on a superficial smile as she thought it over.
—You’re going down, Prime Piece of Shit.
Back when Marden was its own kingdom, they had been on relatively good terms with Soljest and Delunio. At least, from their perspective.
However, Cavarin took over their capital in the previous year. Zenovia had tried to lead her remaining forces in a revolt against their control, but they had found themselves at a disadvantage. She had to ask the two nations for their assistance.
Those hopes were in vain, as no reply came from either nation. King Gruyere of Soljest thought nothing of Marden, and Sirgis wanted to avoid making an enemy of Cavarin since they hosted the Holy Elites.
In the end, Marden joined with Natra and took back the capital, but it did nothing to alleviate the feeling of betrayal experienced by Zenovia and her vassals.
“Based on her ladies-in-waiting…” Jiva whispered. “As a young girl, Zenovia used to have a little puppy, which wandered into the palace gardens one day. There, it died from a snake bite.”
“And?”
“Lady Zenovia became despondent. After its burial, she spent four days looking for the snake. Apparently, she killed it with her own sword.”
“……”
“She loves Marden with all her heart. However, her emotions have another side to them.”
In other words, Cavarin, Soljest, Delunio, and even Levetia were on her hit list. Zenovia was pissed that a representative of Delunio had popped in unannounced to complain about trading.
“Even if you say you have concerns…” Zenovia began. “We have done nothing wrong. If you’ve come with false allegations, I must ask you to leave.”
“I take it you have no interest in discussion?”
“Is this how you handle discussions in your country? By barging in and trying to shove your opinions down my throat? Seems to be a cultural difference, if you ask me.”
“…It’s sad to see you’re taking your demotion so hard.”
They shot daggers at each other. Gone was any pretense of civility. Those listening could do nothing more than watch in trepidation.
“I guess there’s no way around it. I have no choice but to speak directly with the royal family of Natra.”
“Oh yeah? Well, don’t expect me to cooperate.”
“Is that so?” Sirgis replied. “Isn’t the prince here? I wish to meet him.”
“……”
Zenovia finally understood.
Sirgis had banked on this. By showing up uninvited during Wein’s stay, he could speak to her senior if she refused to cooperate. It made total sense, really.
This was the first time someone had treated her with such disrespect.
I’m gonna murder him.
She felt like she might fly into a killer rage.
I must remain calm. As Prince Wein once said, it’s barbaric to take out one’s sword in the middle of a meeting.
This was the political realm. She couldn’t act rashly. Zenovia remembered what Wein had taught her and steadied her heart.
—Well, Wein had assassinated King Ordalasse of Cavarin.
But I have to stop Sirgis right now…
Allowing him to meet Wein wasn’t an option. However, her opponent wasn’t going to back off easily.
The door to the room opened as she tried to figure out an exit strategy.
“No need to worry, Lady Zenovia,” assured a young man—Wein.
He grinned. “If you wish to speak with me, I’m all ears, Prime Minister.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Wein, the crown prince of Natra.”
“Sirgis. Prime minister of Delunio. I’ve heard things about you, Your Highness.”
Wein sat down as they exchanged greetings.
“Your Highness,” Zenovia whispered in his ear. “Are you sure about this?”
“Leave it to me,” he whispered in return before turning back to Sirgis. “I’m happy to talk, but I’ve got a full schedule. I hate to rush you, but let’s make this quick. It’s about exported items, right?”
“Precisely.” Sirgis nodded. “The goods from the Empire travel via Natra… We would like for you to cease this activity.”
His request came as no surprise. Delunio was conservative with a fair number of pious followers. The encroaching goods were basically an eyesore.
“The Empire is power-hungry. You know they aren’t satisfied with just ravishing the East. They’re trying to advance into the West as well. The Teachings of Levetia seek peace on the continent and the salvation of its people. One could say the Empire is a bitter enemy. If their goods spread across the West, we’ll basically be allowing their vanguard onto our doorstep. I understand your kingdom has ties to the East, but with Marden serving as your vassal nation, we wish you would act in alignment with the West.”
There was something about his speech that was dignified and intelligent. His rise from commoner to prime minister seemed to be founded on skill. However, Wein was ready for his request, which meant he’d already concocted a way to take him down.
“Yes, I understand where you’re coming from,” Wein replied, with a hint of a smile. “However, there seems to be a misunderstanding, Sir Sirgis. While we have been more involved in trade lately, these goods are made in Natra.”
This was their official stance. Selling under their name didn’t just make it easier for the devout to make purchases. It served as a convenient excuse when dealing with foreign nations.
“That’s how you intend to get out of this?”
“Ouch. You’re more than welcome to look at the goods on the market. See for yourself that they’re made in our kingdom.”
Sirgis seemed disgusted. “…Some of them are made in Natra. I admit we were shell-shocked when we unraveled your scheme: distributing goods from the Empire as yours. As demand increases, you’ve been selling authentic products from Natra, posing as ones from the West. Very clever, indeed.”
It was difficult to develop an eye for things, especially for goods from another part of the world. They didn’t have the experience to judge whether something was fake or real, good or bad.
However, it was human nature to want to dip into fads. With the popularity of any item, unsavory types took advantage of the moment to sell their inferior wares.
Wein had been at the forefront of this scheme.
“Like the clothes from the Empire…” the prime minister continued. “I thought the colors were too bold, like that bright yellow. You must have planned to create something flashy to draw the eye. Plus, by making the buyer focus on color, no one would notice if the rest of the garment was thrown together sloppily. Even if they had their doubts, peer pressure would do them in… An impressive scam,” Sirgis spat.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. It isn’t strange for there to be differences in quality.” Wein shrugged his shoulders. “Think about it. According to Levetia, the East is full of savages, right? Do you honestly think they could create items to suit our refined taste?”
“Th-that’s…”
It was a scathing counter. Even Sirgis was aware of the reality of life in the East. However, admitting the truth would mean facing their lack of advancement and denying the teachings. It was a difficult question for any pious believer to answer.
Still, Sirgis was the prime minister of an entire nation. He went at it from a different angle.
“Even if that’s the case, the West has upheld a general rule since the enactment of the Circulous Law to avoid excessive interference, such as collecting tolls from pilgrims and forcing them to purchase goods! Don’t you realize you’re in violation of this rule?”
The Circulous Law had been officially put into effect one hundred years prior—with the intent to cut out the East from the pilgrimage. The heads of Levetia needed to offer a few incentives to get the believers to accept it. This gave special privileges to pilgrims such as tax exemptions and protection from bandits and pushy merchants.
“As you said, Sir Sirgis, that is the general rule. It would be one thing if it were officially sanctioned by Levetia, but it has no legal power.”
If declared a legal ordinance, someone might abuse the system. One hundred years prior, each nation left enough wiggle room to act around the rule as necessary. It was understood to be an unspoken benefit for Western nations.
Wein had ripped that secret knowledge to shreds.
If this was a meeting where everyone was congenial…
“Let’s be nice to the pilgrims.”
“Sure.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
…He was basically an invasive species, jeopardizing the ecosystem.
“Hey, easy pickings! Be right back! Gonna ravish this land!”
That was his MO.
“As a royal, you must understand the importance of this hundred-year custom. Disrespecting it is the same as throwing mud in the face of Levetia…!”
“Hmm.”
The Teachings of Levetia were deeply rooted in the West. Even Wein didn’t want to stir up trouble with them.
Sirgis had switched up his argument.
“If you’re saying my policies are harmful to Levetia, that’s fine,” Wein said. “But why haven’t I heard directly from them?”
“……Ngh!” Sirgis’s face twisted.
“You’re just a believer—not even a Holy Elite. I don’t think you have the right to speak for them.”
Wein knew this scheme would rub Levetia the wrong way. It wouldn’t be surprising at all if they sent their own cease and desist.
I’ll just rack up the cash until that happens.
How long could he hold out until Levetia put in real effort to stop him? Delunio had no place in this conversation.
“Well, Sir Sirgis? Do you have anything else to say?”
“……”
Wein was never going to admit the goods were from the Empire.
Sirgis didn’t have the right to speak for Levetia.
It was obvious from his pained expression that the prime minister had nothing. He hung his head.
“Why did it have to be them instead of me…?!” he muttered through gnashed teeth.
Wein didn’t catch a single word, but he could feel his rage.
Can you…? Wein motioned for the guards to step in, thinking of the worst-case scenario.
They must have already sensed Sirgis’s mental state. They were ready for battle.
The moment seemed to stretch for eternity…until Sirgis relaxed all the tension in his shoulders.
“…It seems we cannot reach an understanding.” Sirgis stood up swiftly. His expression was cold. “I suppose there’s no way. I will discuss the matter with my homeland and go from there.”
“I see. It’s unfortunate, but I’m sure there will be other opportunities.”
“I hope you’re right… Well then, I bid you farewell.” Sirgis turned on his heel, his attendants hurriedly following behind.
Just as he was about to leave, he looked back.
“Allow me to say one last thing.”
He took a breath.
“You will regret this someday.”
Wein answered this curse with a grin. “I’ll pray to God that day never comes.”
Spearheading his group as they quickly left the palace, Sirgis meditated inside the carriage. His mind turned over the conversation with the prince of Natra.
“I didn’t expect him to be so shameless,” barked an angry passenger, a subordinate.
His aides’ irritation was to be expected, considering their prime minister’s main argument had been completely dismissed.
Sirgis was calm in comparison.
“It would have saved us trouble if everything had worked out. But we knew it wouldn’t work out that way. We received word en route that the prince was staying in Marden, and we decided to investigate. It’s enough to know more about his personality,” Sirgis continued. “More importantly, our main prize is at our next destination.”
“Do you think it will go well?”
“The plan is already in motion. It has to go well if we wish for Delunio to become its most ideal form.”
His carriage raced down the road.
“It pains me to part ways. Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Zenovia.”
It had been a day since Wein managed to strong-arm Sirgis in place.
His party was ready to set off on schedule.
“I’m sorry you had to sit through that affair yesterday, Your Highness.”
“Don’t mention it. We made it through. Plus, it was nice to get to know Sir Sirgis. Besides,” Wein continued, “I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Delunio. There’s a good chance they’re up to something. Don’t let your guard down.”
“I won’t… Well then, take care, Prince Wein.” She bowed.
Wein nodded as he set off for Soljest with his retinue.
“…Hff.”
Having seen them off, Zenovia let out a sigh of relief. Her vassals followed suit.
“We can finally relieve some of the tension,” Jiva said.
Zenovia nodded, though her profile remained stoic. “We must catch up on government matters that need our attention.”
“We will take care of them. Rest easy, Lady Zenovia…”
“I wasn’t raised to sleep soundly while others are hard at work.”
If Wein were here, he would have offered to nap extra hard.
To Jiva, Zenovia’s words were law.
“As you wish. But please do not overexert yourself.”
“Understood. Let us get to work.”
It seemed Marden would return to a state of normalcy.
However, not even a week after Wein’s departure, a single letter addressed to Zenovia turned their territory upside down.