Chapter 2 - Eastern Levetia
The Delunio Kingdom’s geography had been problematic since its earliest days. The country was located within the central western continent and, as a prosperous trade route, lacked for nothing. However, this also explained why several of its neighbors were an ever-present threat. The mighty Soljest Kingdom sat to the north, and the ambitious Cavarin was in the east. Even Velancia to the south couldn’t be underestimated.
No matter how profitable these nations were for business, wondering for countless days when or if they would invade was a heavy burden. If only Delunio had a genius prince, he could have goaded them into destroying one another. Sadly, the royal family was blessed with no such prodigy, and years of boosting the military’s defense and fortifying against potential threats formed a heap of bills.
It was then that Delunio’s prime minister gained prominence and approached the Teachings of Levetia. The religion had old, deep roots in the West, but he actively evangelized in Delunio and drew the attention of priests and temples alike. The citizens opposed this, however, since it was tantamount to siding with Levetia.
Nevertheless, their protests faded soon enough. This was undoubtedly thanks to the drastic decrease in foreign pressure aided by the previous prime minister’s political prowess and Delunio’s affiliation with Levetia.
“Levetia’s influence in the West cannot be overstated, and I tried to keep our neighbors in check by deliberately falling under their protection. This would allow me the spare time and military funds to deepen our relationship, become a Holy Elite, and guarantee Levetia’s patronage… That’s what I hoped, anyhow,” said the relatively young man in the room.
His name was Sirgis. He was Falanya’s vassal and, yes, Delunio’s former prime minister.
“As Natra grew, I could no longer afford to rest on my laurels. Unhampered by Levetia’s influence, it targeted Delunio, whose sole protection was the church. You already know the events that followed. Believing we were doomed, I allied with Soljest and plotted to subdue Natra…”
This scheme ended in disaster. Wein’s tactics drove Sirgis from power and forced him into exile. When every other nation denied him refuge, the ex–prime minister used his few remaining contacts to head east and partly sink into hiding.
Then Falanya appeared and asked him to serve her.
“I see. So that’s what happened…” Falanya muttered from her chair across the way. She knew of Wein’s victory over Sirgis, but this was her first time hearing about the former prime minister’s political maneuvers. Falanya’s emotions clashed as she considered a future where Natra never rose to power and Sirgis became a Holy Elite.
“Please, do not concern yourself. On my way to becoming prime minister—and even long after—I overthrew my fair share of opponents. I derided each as incompetent and lauded my actions as righteous.”
This time, it was he who was ousted. Sirgis mocked himself and the simplicity of it all.
“More importantly, Your Highness should focus on the ceremony.”
“…Yes, you’re right.”
Falanya peered out the window to the unfamiliar townscape beyond. They were in Delunio’s capital of Liddell.
“I’m glad we arrived safely, but the real work starts now.”
The delegation’s journey from Natra to Delunio was brief and incident-free, and it was lodging in a manor readied in anticipation of the visit.
“Hey, Sirgis, what kind of person is Delunio’s King Lawrence?”
“He’s your typical puppet monarch. During my tenure, the king possessed no talent or resolve and followed his vassals’ advice to the letter. I hear that hasn’t changed,” Sirgis replied. “Delunio’s current prime minister, Mullein, is the one who proposed the ceremony.”
“He’s your successor, right? What can you tell me of Sir Mullein?”
“He’s my former subordinate. Mullein didn’t hold much promise as a leader but was strong-willed and highly ambitious. I made excellent use of him. As for the man’s character… He treats the king as a marionette, same as I did. I believe that’s answer enough.”
Falanya mulled this over. “I suppose this won’t be easy…I wonder how he’ll behave.”
“Although you are royalty, Princess Falanya, I’m afraid Prince Wein outranks you as a foreign diplomat. Mullein will interpret your arrival as a message that Natra wishes to continue the alliance but doesn’t intend to progress things. He’s correct in that regard, and our best course of action is to avoid needless promises.”
“Shouldn’t they be careful, too?”
“Yes. For Delunio, it was enough that Natra’s royal family accepted the invitation. Those in charge wish to conclude the meeting without incident rather than chase greed. However, there is something that concerns me.”
“What?” Falanya questioned.
Sirgis gestured toward the window.
“Princess, what do you think of Liddell?”
“Huh? It seems like a normal, lively town…” Falanya tilted her head, wondering where this conversation was going.
Sirgis nodded. “As you say, it’s a bustling city. That hasn’t changed since my time as prime minister. However, please keep Delunio’s present situation in mind.”
“Current situation…? Ah,” Falanya gasped. “Are you saying the mood is…strange?”
Most people of Natra thought Delunio was on its last legs, but the atmosphere in Liddell didn’t feel that way at all.
“Of course, this is the nation’s capital. It’s possible Liddell hasn’t felt the impact yet, or maybe the city is putting up a strong front. Undoubtedly, Delunio wishes to avoid appearing on the decline, especially where foreigners are involved. However, I’m worried all is secretly well.”
“…Do you suspect another nation of supporting Delunio?”
“If Delunio does collapse, Natra and Soljest will take it for themselves. I cannot speak in absolute terms… However, some party may be aiding Delunio to prevent the other two nations from gaining unreasonable power.”
“Then we can’t let our guard down.”
Falanya’s features tightened. This was an unexpected wrinkle, but she had no room for fear. Wein appointed her as his representative because he trusted she could handle this sort of trouble.
“I expect we’ll have the opportunity to observe things at the ceremony. I cannot accompany you, but you’ll have dependable company should anything happen.”
Falanya nodded, then joked, “Now that we’ve made it into the country, maybe you should wear a mask and come along? No one would ever know.”
Sirgis’s banishment was still in effect, and although he was reluctant, Falanya convinced him to join the delegation as someone with expert knowledge of the Delunio Kingdom.
“Our host is aware that I serve you, Princess Falanya. Delunio does not want to displease Natra, so it’s unlikely it will cause much trouble… But it will have no choice but to intervene if I act too suspiciously. Please allow me to excuse myself as we discussed.”
The civil response forced Falanya to abandon her proposal.
“I understand,” she replied, straightening up. “I have to introduce myself tomorrow before the ceremony, so I think I’ll turn in for today.”
“Yes. Rest well.” Sirgis bowed as the princess left the room. Once her figure was out of sight, he let out a small sigh. “I never imagined I’d return for something like this.”
Sirgis looked out the window. The sights were fresh to Falanya, but he’d seen them a million times before.
“Delunio… My homeland…”
He surveyed the world beyond the glass for a long while, conflicted.
The next day, Falanya paid a scheduled visit to the royal palace in the heart of Liddell.
“…I’m so nervous,” she mumbled while being led down a grand hallway.
This was a foreign country, and her brother wasn’t around to help. It wasn’t the first time, but Falanya’s apprehension persisted.
“I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I feel the same,” a slightly older girl beside the princess whispered.
She was Zenovia Marden, the former crown princess of Marden who, after the fall of her nation and several other twists and turns, declared vassalage to Natra and became the marquess.
“I can relax in my domain because I have a host of vassals with me… Foreign delegations are quite nerve-racking, aren’t they?”
The Marden territory faced Natra to the west and had been involved with Delunio and Soljest since its kingdom days.
And now Zenovia was escorting Falanya’s delegation.
“This won’t do at all. I need to pull myself together.” Falanya lightly slapped her cheeks.
Zenovia threw her a smile. “Fear not. You are already suited to the task, Princess Falanya.”
“You really think so?”
“The decisions of those in our positions impact countless lives. It would be more concerning if you never gave that consideration. A bleeding heart aware of one’s responsibility and a steadfast will committed to duty are signs of a true politician.”
“…You may be right. Thank you, Zenovia.”
“You’re very welcome. By the way, I’d like to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
Zenovia’s lips drew close to Falanya’s ear so their guide wouldn’t overhear.
“I hear Sir Sirgis has joined your party… Is it true?”
“Yes. He’s here with me, though it’s best if he remains hidden.”
A troubled look crossed Zenovia’s face, and Falanya realized something.
“Previously, you two…”
“Yes, it feels a bit like fate.”
Back when Sirgis was prime minister, he teamed up with Soljest to challenge Natra and used the Marden territory as a stepping stone.
“Of course, we both serve Natra now. I have no intention to dredge up the past, but…”
Despite her official stance, Zenovia’s expression made it clear she had a bone to pick.
“I’ll ask him to give you space whenever possible, but please try to remain calm if you run into each other.”
“I appreciate your kindness,” the marquess replied. She hung her head with a wry smile. “Admittedly, I’m not so disgruntled that I’d avoid him to spare myself the risk of unpleasant feelings. If I carry reservations for anyone, it’s…”
Zenovia trailed off midsentence, and her eyes narrowed.
Wondering what was amiss, Falanya followed her gaze and spotted a group approaching from the opposite end of the corridor. A girl around the princess’s age stood at the forefront.
“Oh my, what’s this? Well met, Princess Falanya.”
The newcomer laid eyes on them and immediately broke into a smile, a veil to conceal the vicious beast lurking behind.
Falanya eyed the other girl and responded carefully. “Princess Tolcheila… What are you doing here?”
King Gruyere, monarch of fellow alliance member Soljest, had a first-born son and second-born daughter. This girl was the latter, Tolcheila.
“‘What,’ you ask? As vacuous as ever, I see,” she answered. “I’m attending the ceremony, so I’ve come to give my salutations to our host, King Lawrence. Still, I must admit I never expected our paths to cross like this, Princess Falanya. Hmph, I suppose that means I shan’t meet Prince Wein this time. How very unfortunate.”
Was Tolcheila in Delunio on behalf of King Gruyere and Soljest, just as Falanya attended for Wein and Natra? A part of her understood the girl’s disappointment over Wein’s absence.
“Stay on your guard, Princess Falanya,” Zenovia whispered. “I hear Princess Tolcheila has been active in politics lately and often serves in King Gruyere’s stead.”
“Really?”
“Yes. In addition to serving as an ambassador to Delunio, she also mediated disputes between important nobles, announced a partial tax reduction, and volunteered to be a liaison between Soljest and Levetia… Not satisfied to remain a substitute, it seems she’s trying to displace the crown prince and the king.”
“‘Displace…’”
Zenovia’s explanation erased any sympathy Falanya might have felt. When Soljest and Natra agreed on an alliance, Tolcheila came to the northern nation as both an exchange student and a partial prisoner, although she remained essentially free to do as she liked. Then she abruptly scampered back to her homeland one day, becoming a hostage in name only. To think this was what she’d been up to.
Was Tolcheila in Delunio as more than a mere substitute? Perhaps as the leader of Soljest?
Falanya didn’t know enough to make the call.
“Hmm?” Tolcheila’s eyes fell on Zenovia. “Ah, I was curious who your companion might be. Now I see it’s the former Marden princess. How very bold of you to so much as show your face despite your humiliation. I suppose you must be shameless indeed. No one could possibly sell out their own country otherwise.”
Falanya felt the marquess’s rage meter explode.
“Yes… It’s been quite some time, Princess Tolcheila. Thank you ever so much for all your help back then,” Zenovia said with a smile and a bow. Her icy composure was more terrifying than any blatant display of anger. “However, I fear I cannot match your impudence, Princess Tolcheila. To see you appear in public after a crushing defeat at the hands of Prince Wein is nothing short of inspiring.”
Eek! Falanya cried internally.
The sparks flying between Zenovia and Tolcheila were palpable, and an overwhelming tension choked the hallway. Falanya was no great fan of the Soljest princess, but “rocky” couldn’t begin to describe Tolcheila and Zenovia’s relationship.
From Zenovia’s perspective, Soljest was a traitorous nation that abandoned Marden in its time of need, despite the amity between the two countries.
Tolcheila, on the other hand, believed Zenovia to be nothing more than a self-destructive, worthless remnant of the lost Marden Kingdom.
It feels like they’re being extra nasty to each other, though…
In Falanya’s experience, Tolcheila never lost her composure. Regardless of any disdain she carried for Zenovia, the princess didn’t seem the sort to openly scorn the Marquess of Natra.
Does she hate Zenovia…? No, that’s not it…
It was impatience. Yes, Tolcheila was irritated about something. And although she was the one stirring up trouble, her mind wasn’t on Zenovia. Rather, her focus also seemed to be…
“What’s going on here?!” demanded a new voice. A man came into view and raced down the hallway toward them.
“…Ah, Sir Mullein. It’s been an entire minute since I last saw you,” Tolcheila greeted, bored.
Mullein? That’s the current prime minister of Delunio.
In other words, he was the man who had taken the reins after Sirgis’s downfall. His distress at the situation didn’t evoke any great sense of dignity or competence.
“The young lady over there… You are Princess Falanya of Natra, I presume? Princess Tolcheila, do you have some quarrel with her?”
“Why, we’re old acquaintances. We ran into each other and were enjoying a pleasant chat.”
Mullein scowled at Tolcheila, but the princess brushed him off with a tired wave.
“Well then, I must bid you farewell… Let us meet again at the ceremony, Princess Falanya.”
With these parting words, Tolcheila and her entourage departed. On her way out, she shot Falanya a tenacious look.
“…”
Once the group was out of sight, Mullein coughed.
“I deeply apologize for allowing such an unceremonious encounter.”
“Please, think nothing of it. As Princess Tolcheila said, we were having a lovely conversation.”
Falanya looked over and saw that Zenovia had regained her composure. There was no telling what would’ve happened if the situation continued to escalate.
“Well then, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Mullein, the prime minister of Delunio.” He gave a reverent bow. “I shall escort you. Right this way, Princess Falanya.”
“Thank you, Sir Mullein.” Falanya and Zenovia set off again, now under Mullein’s guidance.
Their attendants felt the tension ease somewhat after their dicey run-in with Tolcheila, but it was too early to relax. The delegation’s main objective, an audience with the king, was still ahead. And although he didn’t look the part, Mullein was still the man who climbed his way to prime minister.
Falanya realized that, despite Mullein’s humble demeanor, his eyes were busy shrewdly sizing her up.
Keep it together.
Falanya steeled herself again, mentally smacking her cheeks.
“Thank you for traveling all this way from Natra. I welcome you, Princess Falanya. You as well, Marquess of Marden,” greeted a man on a throne in the audience hall. He was Delunio’s King Lawrence.
“It’s an honor to meet you, King Lawrence. I am delighted to celebrate our continued alliance together. On behalf of my father, Owen, please accept my sincerest gratitude.”
Falanya delivered her message as Natra’s representative. She was still a girl of tender years, yet Delunio’s attending vassals admired her noble poise.
King Lawrence, on the other hand, was a jittery mess. “Y-yes… Well, we should talk about the ceremony schedule…Mullein.”
“Yes.”
After a courteous exchange, Mullein stood beside Lawrence and explained the ceremony’s proceedings. This was only a formality, though, since almost everything had already been decided.
However, it provided Falanya a chance to observe Lawrence.
He was a young king, older than her, of course, but he looked to be in his thirties or forties. Unlike Falanya’s father, Lawrence had an undeniable flakiness about him.
The king hasn’t said much, and he’s been fidgeting this whole time…
Wein once told Falanya that a king’s silence was part of his arsenal. Dialogue was the backbone of communication, but there was always a risk of giving too much away. Sometimes, it was best for a ruler to keep quiet and preserve a noble air of mystery rather than speak and invite unwelcome exposure and scorn.
Lawrence’s silence and restless gaze weren’t noble or mysterious. Falanya looked over at Zenovia and recognized how exasperated she was by the king’s behavior.
Lawrence’s vassals offered no help whatsoever, ignoring him as though this were an everyday occurrence, which only made this worse. Falanya recalled how Sirgis had called the king a puppet monarch.
Even so…
Falanya felt sympathy for the man, not contempt.
She could serve as a delegate in a foreign nation because she’d studied for long hours every day to support her brother. But what if she hadn’t? If Falanya had remained under Wein’s protection and let herself be coddled by vassals, she likely would’ve ended up like King Lawrence.
When she thought of it that way, she felt it was wrong for her to criticize him.
Above all else, Falanya understood Lawrence’s expression. He was trying to figure things out but floundering powerlessly. She knew that feeling and related to the king’s anguish.
“—That is the plan for the ceremony. Do you have any questions?”
Mullein concluded his explanation while Falanya’s mind raced. She mulled for a moment, but not over the query presented to her.
It was likely arrogant and meddlesome of her. From a political standpoint, she was better off leaving this alone. However, if King Lawrence wished for the opportunity to change…
“No, and thank you for confirming the details. At this rate, the ceremony will proceed smoothly,” Falanya replied. Directing her attention to the king, she said, “Your Majesty, I fear my lack of experience may cause you trouble, but I shall do my best for the ceremony and our eternal triple alliance. I look forward to working together.”
Lawrence nodded. “Y-yes, me too.”
Falanya giggled softly. “He-he. You seem rather nervous, King Lawrence.”
“…!” Hearing someone far younger point out his insecurities immediately made him flush with embarrassment. However, Falanya fervently pressed on.
“I’m relieved. I thought I was the only one.”
“Y-you’re nervous, too, Princess Falanya?” Lawrence’s shame transformed into empathy.
“Why, of course. My heart has been racing since the very start,” Falanya confessed, her noble demeanor replaced with the bashfulness of an ordinary girl. “To think we’re both stricken with anxiety… He-he, I told the marquess I wasn’t sure what I’d do if His Majesty was some manner of ferocious beast. I’m relieved my fear was unfounded.”
“…I-I see.”
Sensing no insult or derision in her voice, Lawrence grinned. Mullein, on the other hand, wore a perplexed look. The prime minister was undoubtedly desperate to uncover Falanya’s political aims but would never guess the truth. Falanya wasn’t after anything. She sympathized with the derided puppet king and thought he deserved more relaxation and positivity in his life. That was all.
“When did you take the throne, Your Majesty?”
“…How many years has it been? At least ten, I suppose.”
“That’s quite a while. You’ve been working hard all this time. I myself have only begun traveling abroad recently and am still naive. I’ve wished to escape my troubles more than once.”
“I…confess I’ve felt the same.” Lawrence offered a wry smile.
Falanya continued excitedly. She and the king chatted like two friends by the water well. The rusted lock on Lawrence’s mouth slowly loosened.
“Your Majesty.” Perhaps convinced any further conversation would spell trouble, Mullein stepped in.
“You have other matters of government to attend to, so let us conclude here.”
For a brief instant, there was burning animosity in Lawrence’s expression. It vanished the moment the prime minister’s eyes fell on the king, who looked away when faced with that gaze.
“Y-yes, you’re right… Princess Falanya, you may go now.”
“…”
She knew people didn’t change after one short conversation. After a quick look of disappointment, Falanya pulled herself together.
“Yes, we shall take our leave.” The princess gave a polite bow. Just as she and Zenovia turned to leave…
“…No, wait.”
Lawrence’s command stopped the girls in their tracks. Mullein must not have expected this; his expression betrayed mild shock.
“What is it, Your Majesty?” Falanya asked.
The king was slow to answer. He mumbled incoherently, and his eyes darted around the room. Finally, just as everyone grew impatient…
“I heard the rumors. About Sirgis serving y—”
“Your Majesty.” Mullein’s piercing eyes and icy tone cut Lawrence off. That alone was enough to rattle the supposed leader of Delunio.
“You seem unwell, Your Majesty. Princess Falanya, please leave us for today.”
Mullein’s curt instruction left no room for argument. Even so, Falanya stood her ground and stared at the king as if urging him to speak.
“Princess Falanya.” This time, the prime minister’s voice carried irritation.
“There is a time for everything, Your Highness…” Zenovia whispered.
“…” Falanya kept her eyes on Lawrence, but he didn’t move. Realizing any further attempts were pointless, she bowed. “Your Majesty, I apologize for failing to notice your condition. Please take care of yourself.”
Falanya did as much as she could for now, but she still had a duty to fulfill. Only God knew whether her actions here would end in pointless self-satisfaction or sow seeds for the future.
“How was your audience with the king?”
“Uneventful overall.”
Soon after returning to the manor, Falanya met with Sirgis to discuss what transpired.
“However, two things do concern me.”
“What might those be?”
“First, there’s no question Delunio’s higher-ups are aware that you’re my vassal. It’s likely they know you’re here, too.
Sirgis gave a slight nod. “Mullein is no fool. He’s definitely gathered enough intel to know that much.”
“King Lawrence tried to ask about you, but Mullein cut him off. Maybe the prime minister wants to avoid damaging Delunio’s relationship with Natra?”
“His Majesty did? Ah, yes. Indeed. If the nation discovered my presence, Mullein would have no choice but to investigate.”
Sirgis closed his eyes as if imagining the scene. Falanya gave him a sidelong glance before continuing.
“There is also the matter of Princess Tolcheila.”
“You met with Soljest’s princess?”
“Yes, it looks like she came to Delunio as a substitute, too. I talked with her before the audience, but something seemed…off.”
Falanya’s expression tensed. “She wasn’t herself… At least as far as I could tell. It’s not like I know Princess Tolcheila particularly well, but I sensed something odd about her. Even Zenovia warned me to be wary.”
“I cannot claim to know her deeply myself, but Princess Tolcheila is undeniably ambitious. Enough so that I believe she doesn’t intend to attend the ceremony as a mere proxy. Regarding how she’ll proceed for the time being…”
“I suppose we don’t know enough to determine that yet.” Falanya groaned flatly. “There’s still time, and we won’t learn anything else today. You’re free to leave, Sirgis.”
“Understood. Please excuse me.”
Sirgis left at her request. His mind raced as he walked down the corridor.
So, they know I’m here.
Depending on the situation, Delunio’s agents might contact Sirgis in secret. He could even reach out to them himself. Regardless of his banishment, Sirgis was a former prime minister. He still had a few domestic ties.
Mullein aside… How does His Majesty feel about me now?
When Sirgis was exiled, Lawrence vilified him to no end. Of all his vassals, losing the one who held true authority must have felt like a betrayal and blessed release from puppethood. Sirgis thought his relationship with the king was over. And yet…
From what Princess Falanya said, something related to me is apparently weighing on His Majesty’s mind. However…
It was a risky subject that required the utmost caution.
As he contemplated this…
“Hey.”
“ ?!”
Sirgis jumped at the voice behind him. He spun around to find a boy blending into the hallway shadows. It was Nanaki.
“S-Sir Nanaki.”
“A warning.” Nanaki’s indifference matched Sirgis’s alarm. “If Falanya tells me to ignore an enemy, I ignore them. If Falanya tells me to protect an ally, I protect them. But nothing she says will convince me to forgive a traitor.”
Nanaki’s crimson eyes shot through Sirgis. Their intensity confirmed this threat was no bluff.
“Don’t forget. I’ll be watching you.”
Before Sirgis could respond, Nanaki vanished into the dark.
Sirgis stood there frozen and alone for some time. After calming down, he whispered as if to himself, “You don’t need to tell me that. I know… I know…”
Tolcheila sat in the dim room and pored over the letter in her hand.
“…Your Highness,” her servant said. “It’s growing late. Perhaps you should retire for the night.”
“Hm? Ah.” Tolcheila looked up from the missive. “It’s already that late? I must have lost track of time.” She stretched with an adorable Nghhh! “How odd that I don’t feel the least bit weary. I intended to go to bed at the usual hour, but my enthusiasm seems to be working against me. He-he.”
“…Your Highness.”
There was concern in the servant’s expression and tone. After all, she knew what her young charge schemed after.
“Fret not. Everything is going according to plan. I’d hoped to flaunt it before Prince Wein, but alas… I suppose there’s no helping that now.” Tolcheila smiled fearlessly. “All shall know I am a political player who will shake this entire continent…”
The ceremony was underway at last. Perhaps because it was primarily a celebration, the atmosphere was more casual than Falanya expected.
King Lawrence delivered his opening statement first, then Falanya and Tolcheila offered their congratulations on behalf of Natra and Soljest, respectively. Later, the three made a joint declaration in front of an audience of influential leaders and signed their names.
This concluded the ceremony proper, but it was immediately followed by a social meet-and-greet.
In truth, this was the real highlight for most attendees. Falanya symbolized Natra’s unstoppable progress, and Tolcheila, princess of the mighty Soljest Kingdom, had recently started making a name for herself. Guests lined up in droves to exchange even a few words with them.
A turbulent wave of greetings struck the girls. Every spare corner of their minds was bombarded with facts about nobles and their business ventures, and each guest lavished them with tidings and gifts.
There were more greetings everywhere Falanya turned.
Greetings, greetings, greetings, greetings, greetings…
“Fwaaah…”
By the time the queue died down, Falanya was all but panting.
“You were marvelous today, Princess.” Zenovia smiled. The Marquess of Natra naturally had quite a few introductions herself, but those numbers were paltry compared to Falanya’s.
“I never expected so many people…” the princess quietly lamented.
The venue was still packed. Falanya took this opportunity to hide in a corner, but it wouldn’t be long before a crowd formed around her again.
“I was curious how Delunio would fare as host since it’s on the decline… But as one might expect, the attendance of Natra’s and Soljest’s royalty ensured an impressive turnout,” Zenovia mused. “However, I am concerned by the disproportionate number of merchants.”
Falanya cocked her head at this unexpected remark. “Were there really so many?”
“Yes. I mostly spoke with vendors. Surely you met some as well, Princess Falanya.”
“Hmm. Now that you mention it…”
The never-ending onslaught of callers made it difficult to pay attention to anyone, but upon reflection, more than a few people introduced themselves as merchants.
“I wonder why that is?”
Were this the merchant city of Mealtars, no one would have suspected anything unusual. However, this was the Delunio Kingdom. Although a large gathering of merchants was possible on occasion, it was more natural to assume there were hidden motives at play where politics were involved. Regardless, Falanya couldn’t begin to imagine the purpose and cocked her head.
“Please excuse me for interrupting your private discussion.”
The girls turned around to find Prime Minister Mullein standing before them, accompanied by an unfamiliar young man.
“Hello, Sir Mullein. What may I do for you?” Zenovia took a casual yet defensive step in front of Falanya.
Mullein smiled in an apparent effort to put them at ease.
“You are both our guests of honor. What sort of host would I be if I kept you in the shadows? There is someone I wish to introduce, so I thought I might ask for a moment of your time.”
Mullein looked next to him. Taking his cue, the man stepped forward and offered a deep bow.
“It is an honor to make your acquaintances, Princess Falanya, Marquess of Marden. I am Yuan, an active missionary in this land.”
“A missionary?”
This young man with the gentle expression had an unexpected occupation. Falanya blinked in surprise, and Zenovia was visibly bewildered.
“You serve Levetia, correct? To think there is still mission work in Delunio…” Tacit questions hung heavy in Zenovia’s tone. After all, missionaries normally evangelized to the people of unconverted nations. The Teachings of Levetia were already deeply ingrained in Delunio’s society, so Zenovia assumed there was no need to spread teachings here. And yet…
“Ah, my apologies. It seems my choice of words has invited misunderstanding,” the missionary Yuan said. “I am a member of Eastern Levetia.”
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