Chapter 1 - Hey, How About a Political Marriage?
The continent of Varno was split right down the middle by a mountain range called the Giant’s Backbone. The lands to its East and West were home to a crowded mess of countries big and small. Among them was a tiny nation that carved out a place for itself in a valley near the northernmost tip of the mountains.
It was known as the Kingdom of Natra.
The citizens of Natra became dispirited when the first signs of autumn began to creep up on their kingdom.
The wind gave them a gentle warning that the brief summer was over and that a long winter season was about to take its place. When the chilly breeze passed by them, it was customary for the townspeople to shiver and click their tongues in annoyance as they started preparing for the cold days ahead.
But this year was different.
The rays of the summer sun were waning. Autumn was just around the corner. And despite that, the people were filled with a cheerful vitality. In fact, the nation thrummed with heated enthusiasm.
The reason for their jubilation was the invasion by the neighboring nation of Marden and the subsequent war that had erupted right before the summer.
With the current king bedridden, command had fallen to Crown Prince Wein Salema Arbalest, who led the troops into battle, pushing back their enemy. But he didn’t stop there. He went on to invade Marden in turn and even captured their precious gold mine.
And when Marden raised an army of thirty thousand to retake it, Wein had managed to stand his ground with only a few thousand men of his own. This historic achievement was more than enough fuel for the people to heap praise on their crown prince. As the military fervor refused to die down in the Kingdom of Natra, the townspeople forgot all about the oncoming chill.
The same could be said about the royal capital of Codebell.
“Just as you’d expect from His Highness.”
“When I heard the king had fallen ill, I wondered what was going to happen to us for a while, but…”
“The prince is merciful and mighty. Our nation is safe as long as he’s here.”
This kind of discussion could be heard all over. There was no need to strain to pick it out from the crowd. The recent war had left a strong impression on the people.
I imagine they’ll continue to be on cloud nine for a while… thought a young girl, as she slipped through the main street with a burlap sack.
With her near-translucent white hair and flaming red eyes, she had the appearance of a doll. But she was a flesh-and-blood human, Ninym Ralei, the one who served as aide to the subject of many a rumor—Prince Wein.
And so what if we won against a neighboring nation? It was just this once. It doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly stronger as a nation or that other countries don’t pose a threat to us anymore.
It’d be inaccurate to call her pessimistic. After all, she found the victory favorable, and she was pleased that her master had earned the respect of his subjects as a result. But as someone engaged in national politics, Ninym concerned herself more with future danger than past accomplishments.
It worries me that Wein’s reputation is skewed to one side.
Through the grapevine, the general populace knew many sides of Wein, but all agreed that he was a benevolent ruler. Everyone had heard about how he remembered every last one of his soldiers’ names and rooted for them as individuals. Or how he personally liberated the residents of the captured mine from oppressive rule. There were truths and lies, but overall, Wein was seen as kind and compassionate in the eyes of the public.
This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Certainly not, but Ninym was well aware that a skewed reputation could cause issues down the line.
I wonder how Wein feels about that. She decided to ask him about it later.
With her mind made up, Ninym hastened toward the palace, where she imagined the crown prince would be waiting for her arrival.
Constructed by King Salema, the very first ruler of the Kingdom of Natra, Willeron Palace was a structure with a long, rich history.
That said, it was just shy of two hundred years old. With repeated repairs, the kingdom had managed to keep it in a functional state and restore its exterior, but the palace was overdue to be demolished and rebuilt… At least, the idea had been brought up in meetings for a few dozen years running.
But there were no signs it would be happening anytime soon. It wasn’t out of respect for the palace’s history or the sentimental attachment of its occupants. It came down to the cold hard math: There was no wiggle room in the budget to accommodate this project.
Down that dilapidated, “historic” hallway, a young boy sauntered forward, trailed by a gaggle of government officials. His name was Wein Salema Arbalest. Carrying the legacy of the kingdom’s birth in his middle name, he was rumored to be the founding king reborn.
“Your Highness, the channel along the Torito River has been completed without incident.”
“How are the water levels of the main river and its tributaries?”
“It’s estimated that both fit in the range of our expectations. We’ve calculated that the possibility of a flood has dropped significantly. All according to plan.”
“Don’t get too optimistic. Start to believe you control creation, and it’ll come back to bite you. Keep a close eye on it.”
“Yes, of course.”
When one official bowed his head and took a step back, another filled his place.
“About the Torito River. We’ve had reports of disputes with local tribes as our people travel down the tributaries.”
“That should have been left to the dispatched magistrates. Are you telling me they couldn’t strike a deal with the local communities?”
“I regret to inform you that words and appeals to authority have failed to sway them.”
“I guess there’s no helping it. Tell Raklum to head down there with his troops and shush them. Do whatever it takes to avoid bloodshed. Gather as much information on the area as you can, and submit a detailed report.”
“Understood!”
Wein’s orders were swift and precise, exacting political measures with elegance and magnanimity. The officials with tender hearts considered him an ideal prince and one worth serving.
“Your Highness, we have a report from General Hagal, who is defending our borders from the Kingdom of Cavarin. He wishes to receive your approval on a few things.”
“I’ll take a look before I send a reply. Are Cavarin and the remnants of the Marden army still engaged in a skirmish?”
“Yes. The remaining soldiers are united under the banner of the surviving members of the royal family.”
“We don’t know how the situation’s going to play out. Form diplomatic relations with both camps. Don’t forget to tighten surveillance and send more spies.”
“Understood. We’ll take care of it immediately.”
Wein continued with his vassals until his office door came into view and he’d reached his destination.
“Your Highness, I apologize for the delay. I have the financial report for the war and the budget for each of the restructured departments. Here.”
Wein took the report and stared at it for a beat. “You’re sure this is correct?”
“Absolutely.”
“…I see. I’ll be looking over it in my office. Come in if you need anything,” he announced.
The officials halted in place and bowed once as Wein entered the office.
“…Phew.”
When he was finally alone, he placed the report on his desk, stretched out his limbs, and drew in a long breath.
“I JUST WANNA SELL THIS COUNTRY OFF AND GET THE HELL OUTTA HEEEEEERE!” Wein wailed. “Oh boy. The treasury is running on empty… What in the world? …Like, yeah, so maybe we went overboard with the war against Marden, but I didn’t think it’d be this bad…”
He stared at the report on the desk with trepidation. The merciless figures written there would make any politician shudder.
Wein had a new idea. “…Hold on. Calm down. I could have misread the whole thing. Yeah, that’s gotta be it. If I check the report again, I bet the coffers will turn out to be bigger by at least two or three figures…!”
Wein gingerly placed his hands on the documents that he’d dropped, keeping them as far away from him as his outstretched arms would allow. He peeled up a corner and snuck a quick peek.
There was no mistaking it this time.
Wein face-planted onto the desk as Ninym slipped in through the doors with her burlap sack.
“…Don’t tell me you’re just fooling around, Wein,” she lamented in a voice coated in exasperation when she spotted him.
What she didn’t expect was for him to reply with a bold laugh. “Heh-heh-heh, I wonder if you can keep your cool after seeing this…!”
“This is… Oh, it’s the cost of our war.” Ninym thumbed through the pages. “…Seems about right. Just as we’d estimated. It’s as awful to see the first time as the last.”
They hadn’t gone into the war lightly, but war is an expensive endeavor. And since Natra wasn’t wealthy to begin with, it took a huge bite of their budget. They may have annexed a sliver of Marden territory and seized their mine, but it’d take years before they got their money’s worth.
“Well then, I’m guessing these new departmental budgets are based on this report… Hey, Ninym, so you know about the money we have to cover expenses of the royal family?”
“Yes, the budget for private use.”
In other words, an allowance for royalty that far surpassed what an average commoner could hope to ever see. They were the representatives of the entire nation, after all.
Well, in theory.
“This is my current allowance.”
Wein fished out a small cloth sack from his breast pocket and flipped it inside out. A single gold coin bounced off the table.
“…That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Wein moaned. “Argh! To think I protected us against Marden, swiped their mine, all while keeping the war budget at a minimum! And my reward? One measly gold coin? What a serious downer…” He deflated, slumping against the desk.
Ninym checked the reports as she kept him in her periphery. “Couldn’t you have cut some other spending? Like, the military.”
“They already can’t make ends meet. We gotta compensate for lost manpower and equipment, and if I cut it down any more, the troops will plan a coup and kill me.”
“Then raise taxes. Simple.”
“The people will revolt and kill me.”
Ninym gave him a spirited nod. “Then let’s give up.”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Wein writhed around in agony—the sight of which pulled on her heart strings.
She suddenly had an idea appear in the back of her mind. “…I know! Wein, why don’t you think of it from another perspective?”
“Like what?”
“Think of it this way: You went to war at the head of a destitute country and came back with enough to afford yourself one gold coin.”
“……” Wein folded his arms. “You’ve got a point.”
“Right? If it were anyone else, we would have been in the red, for sure,” Ninym sincerely assured him.
No one else could have led them into battle and pulled off the same feat.
As if in higher spirits, Wein started to slowly puff out his chest and heaved an exaggerated sigh. Ninym could feel his ego inflating, just a little bit.
“Well, you’re right. Like, there’s no one in this country with more power, popularity, and wisdom than me. This is the only logical outcome when I show even a fraction of my potential. Now, isn’t that right?”
With an overconfident swagger, Wein started to toy with the coin. He was being a bit of an ass, but it was more annoying to deal with him when he was morose.
Ninym pressed on. “Exactly, Wein. You could say that coin is proof of your skills.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It carries the weight of a nation that no one else can hold!”
“You’re right!”
“It may be a single coin to others, but it’s priceless!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Miss Ninym. You’re giving me too much credit! I may get overly confident, you know?!”
“But I’m just telling the truth.”
“And who am I to stop you? Man, it’s so hard being right all the time! It’s so freakin’ hard being a genius!”
Ninym smiled. “That aside, now you can pay me back the money I lent you when you were an exchange student.”
“WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?!” Wein yowled as the coin was snatched from his fingers. “Are you a demon?!”
“I have every right to it.”
“Hello? There’s a little thing called ‘timing’!”
“You want me to add interest?”
“It’s all yours, Lady Ninym…! Oh, please let me massage your shoulders…!”
Wein bid a heartbroken farewell to his gold coin, but mitigating accrued interest came before his pride.
“I’ll give you this in exchange. Enjoy.” She opened the bag and took out some food wrapped in paper. “It’s rabbit pie from The Polar Bear.”
“Woah, this takes me way back. I had no idea they were still open.”
The Polar Bear was a restaurant tucked away in a corner of the city surrounding the castle. Wein and Ninym used to sneak off into town as kids.
“Aw yeah! This thick slab of pie crust, the overpowering taste of herbs, the dryness of the rabbit meat… Mmm, just like the old days.”
“You can be honest and say it tastes bad.”
“We all become poets when we reminisce.” Wein slowly turned to gaze out the window as he chewed on it. “You know, I haven’t been able to survey the town lately.”
“Which makes sense. Time is of the essence when you’re acting on behalf of the king, and for your safety you have to behave in accordance with your new position.”
“Meaning there’s no way you and I could run off on our own like old times.”
“I suppose we could. If you feel like getting assassinated.”
“Never mind, I’m good.”
The Kingdom of Natra considered Wein the man of the hour, but there were more than a few who considered this development a nuisance. That included vassals who were giving Wein the cold shoulder, aristocrats who’d been hoping for a gullible and foolish king rather than a sagacious one, and a number of nations begrudging Natra’s rapid development.
Of course, there were more people grateful for Wein’s existence, but some lurked in the shadows for a chance to wring his neck.
“How were things in town?”
“I’m guessing this celebratory mood is going to continue. We don’t get good news often. I can’t say I blame the people, but I’m concerned that your name is becoming synonymous with compassion and benevolence.”
Wein’s expression turned grim as if to say, Ah, right.
“It’s fine to be popular with the masses, but it’ll be a problem if they don’t take me seriously.”
That was exactly what worried Ninym. No politician is ever displeased by the people’s favor. Popularity means support. A higher rate of approval means it’s easier to move a nation to meet proposed goals.
But even if a ruler is loved by the people, that isn’t the same as immunity from being looked down upon. Earning the disrespect of the masses even once could lead the populace to start flouting laws and political authority, indulging in crime as the country falls to pieces.
To prevent that, politicians have to strike a delicate balance: to be loved and feared by the people.
Well, easier said than done. Too many nations had fallen for failing to maintain this equilibrium.
“It’ll be fine if I can rule without earning their disdain. But if they get full of themselves…”
“You’ll do what?”
“…I’ll become a dictator!”
“Um, hold on.”
“Dictatorship! Tyranny! Despotism! Totalitarianism… Oh, how the corpses will pile up! We can achieve peace by sending the masses into a perpetual state of grief and resentment!”
“If that happened, they’ll squash you—literally. That’s not the sort of joke someone in politics should make, Wein.”
“Yesh, ma’am.”
Just because Wein had one accomplishment under his belt, it didn’t mean his position was secure. They needed to avoid anything that would throw cold water on his hard-won favor.
“Well, let’s wait and see how things go. Keep an eye out and ears open for the word on the street.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Great. With that settled, I’m off to have some fun!”
“Wait.”
Ninym yanked the collar of Wein’s shirt as he attempted to clamber out of his chair.
“Are you dreaming? There’s still work to be done.”
“…Heh, I thought you’d say that. But think about it for a second, Ninym. It’s weird for me to be this busy.”
She flashed him a look. What the hell are you on?
He continued. “First of all, in my opinion, a nation is made up of a hundred vassal specialists and one monarch generalist.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Within the nation are a variety of industries, like farming, animal husbandry, construction, transportation, and the military. But none require the leadership or input of the monarch to function. It’s enough to have vassals specializing in those fields.”
“I see. Go on.”
“It’s the job of a monarch to decide on industry policies and oversee them. We determine what to research, allocate necessary funds according to set budgets, keep a lookout for corruption, and check if industries are progressing according to plan. To do that, we need to know our countries inside and out. But the ultimate goal is to be vigilant for corruption and errors, not meddle with the industries themselves.”
“There’s some truth to that.”
“Right? It’d be weird for me to bother with progress and research! My only job should be to check the reports from each department and dole out the cash money! And I already did that today! In other words, I’m free! How’s that for a flawless argument?!”
“Are you done dreaming?”
“NIIIIIIIIIIIIINYM!” Wein cried. “What the hell? How could you possibly take issue with my reasoning?!”
“First, a question: How many of those ‘specialists’ are in Natra?”
“………” He slyly averted her gaze.
Ninym sandwiched that face between her hands and forced him to look at her head-on.
“There’s, uh…enough to count on one hand… At least, I hope…”
“In that case, you’ll have to find others to fill in the gaps, Mr. Generalist.”
“Yeah…but—”
“And you intentionally failed to mention diplomatic relations. That’s a part of your princely duties. It isn’t uncommon to lose a seat at the negotiating table if you can’t stand shoulder to shoulder with the bigwigs.”
“Yeah… There’s that, too.”
“Plus, you’re scheduled to talk with the newly appointed Imperial ambassador of Earthworld after this. And I think you know who’s the only person who can claim to be on equal footing.”
“Fine, I get it! Message received! I’ll do it. Are you happy now?!” Wein ranted despairingly. “Agh, why’d the big-booby lady have to go home, anyway?!”
“Because you beat her down.”
“Damn it, that’s right!”
The Earthworld Empire was positioned in the eastern half of the divided continent of Varno and was a major power that had been aggressively expanding its territory in recent years. That was until its figurehead—the Emperor—fell ill some months prior, and now the nation was experiencing a major upheaval.
Until a short while ago, a woman named Fyshe Blundell had been stationed in Natra as the Imperial ambassador of the Empire, but she returned home after losing her duty and position in a game of diplomacy against Wein. A replacement had finally just been dispatched, and this day would mark their first official meeting.
“About this new ambassador…”
“Ambassador Teord Talum. A middle-aged man.”
“Boring.”
“In terms of career, he’s primarily accompanied the ambassador to a host of nations abroad. Thanks to that, he has a vast network of connections in foreign states and provinces but not in his homeland.”
“And any pretty lady friends?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Booooring.”
“This is his first time serving as ambassador, but apparently he’s been complaining that he’s too old for this and wishes to return to the Empire… Wein, pay attention.”
“Yeah, I’m listening.” Wein waved his hand lazily. “Sigh. When will I ever be able to retire?”
His assignments ruthlessly continued to pile up with no end in sight.
“The Jilaat mine is one of the top gold deposits on the entire continent, but its yields have been primarily circulated only in the West until now. I’m certain you’re aware of this, Your Highness.”
Teord dove right in at the start of the meeting.
“To think that an ally is currently in possession of the mine. It can be nothing but an act of divine aid. The demand for gold is extremely high in our Empire. I strongly urge that you sell us your supply,” he continued forcefully.
It was as if his speech was the embodiment of enthusiasm and fervor.
And that observation was correct. For Teord Talum, the Imperial ambassador currently stationed in Natra, this meeting with the crown prince was of utmost importance. He had served as a foreign diplomat for the Empire for over fifteen years and, to be frank, an unremarkable one at that.
After all, he’d been born a commoner, and even Teord himself couldn’t exactly claim that he was particularly competent. That’s why he’d filled in at short-staffed national embassies, performing routine duties and accompanying the regional ambassador on this or that trip. And when Teord was done with his tasks, he’d be switched over to another embassy and repeat the process all over again.
All the while, there were scores of people both younger and smarter than him who’d been promoted through the ranks in the Empire, which prided itself on its meritocracy. Teord had felt ashamed about it more than once or twice.
But an unexpected chance had befallen him. After his predecessor lost her position, he had been selected to fill in for Ambassador Fyshe Blundell.
Of course, the biggest reason for his deployment was that the Empire could hardly afford to lose its most competent workers to positions overseas, considering the instability of their current state of affairs. His superiors had ordered him not to say anything more than was strictly necessary.
—But I can’t just follow their instructions this time!
Once the storm of internal conflict passed through the Empire, Teord was destined to be dismissed from his duties, and another would take his place. If he couldn’t leave behind his mark, he’d be plopped right back into his fixed position as a stand-in.
Teord was already in his forties, and he was reaching the age when it was starting to get more difficult to travel the world constantly. Plus, he had a family back in his home country. He was lucky if he could see them once a year.
I’ve gotta show them what I can do and secure a position based back in the homeland. For my family…!
Teord had been spurred on by his personal circumstances as he proceeded to the royal palace in the Kingdom of Natra to meet Wein. There’s nothing wrong with being motivated, whatever the reason for it.
The problem, however, was that his work was in realm of international diplomacy.
Now, now. Don’t get yourself all riled up.
Wein could read his opponent’s thoughts all too well—not that it required much effort on his part, since it was obvious from Teord’s eyes boring into his jugular.
You’re asking for it if you’re gonna show your hand that quickly.
International diplomacy was about haggling for the profit of one’s country. And considering how the effects of a success or failure could ripple across thousands—or tens of thousands of people—even the most inconsequential information had to be handled with the utmost care.
But Teord had already revealed his demands. Which meant the other party could dig into the circumstances and background that steered these requests, as well as the future actions to follow. Basically, it gave Wein more than enough information to strategize.
And the Empire didn’t need to make any demands about affairs concerning the mine if they took the situation in Natra into account. Natra had weak relations with the West, and they shared their eastern border with the Empire. As long as the Empire didn’t lowball them, Natra would have eventually approached them about making a deal as a matter of course.
But he wants me to hurry up and seal the deal. I’ve heard rumors that he wants to return to his country. Seems he needs to make his mark. And fast, Wein calmly analyzed.
“I appreciate your proposal, Ambassador. Gold may captivate us with its glitter and glitz, but it isn’t enough to illuminate our dark winters or offer us respite. I’d much rather turn it into something that can help my people directly.”
“In that case—”
“However.”
Teord looked as if he was ready to bite, but Wein stopped him.
“I think you’ve heard about our difficult battle against Marden. In terms of damages, we suffered more than casualties. The truth is, since the Jilaat mine was our primary battlefield, it has lost most of its functionality.”
This wasn’t a lie. They really had collapsed a number of tunnels in order to win. The transportation roads and miners’ houses had also been destroyed, and restoration was still ongoing.
“Thanks to that, the mining conditions are less than ideal, and all operations have come to a halt… It’s hard to say how much we’ll excavate once everything is up and running. Which means it’s hard for me to make a deal right now.”
“N-nghhh…”
Okay, this may have contained a white lie. They had restarted mining operations alongside the repairs. And they’d already estimated the expected output and income of the mine, which meant Wein had more than enough information to hammer out the initial outline of a deal, even if he couldn’t close it right away.
If that were the case, why did he lie? Well, Wein knew that securing this deal would be considered a huge win for the ambassador. It was important to hold out for someone with the potential to establish a favorable, long-term connection with Natra instead.
An appointed ambassador acted as a direct channel to other nations. Plus, there was no guarantee that there would ever be as great an opportunity to strengthen their bond with the Empire in the future. That made Wein hesitant to agree to a deal with a worthless ambassador who could be let go at a moment’s notice.
If Ambassador Blundell were here, I would have talked about handing it over—with some bonuses in exchange for us, of course—but I’m not so sure about this guy.
Teord would have exploded into a fit of rage if he could have heard Wein’s thoughts. But at the negotiating table, the substantial years Teord had on Wein wouldn’t level the playing field. It all came down to talent.
“Well then, Your Highness. When will you have a better idea about when you’ll resume operations at the mine?”
“Hard to say. It’s a critical asset to our nation, and we’re planning to construct a flawless system, which takes time.”
“But that’s…”
“Hey, no need to worry. I know it’s important for us to maintain ties. Once the mine is up and running, I plan on bringing up our deal again right away.”
Wein dodged Teord’s attempt to hound him and offered a small smile.
The meeting continued to proceed with the ambassador trying to find an “in” and Wein remaining evasive while promising nothing. At last, Teord slumped his shoulders dejectedly.
…He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer. I’ll just let this conversation die out.
The last hand marked an end to the game. There was nothing left here for either of them even if the conversation dragged on.
“Could it be you’re not feeling well? I know it’s earlier than planned, but we can wrap up…?”
“N-no, I’m perfectly fine!” Teord adjusted his posture, realizing his despondency was showing. “It’s just that…I’m impressed by your insight, especially considering your young age.”
Wein chuckled. “I’m embarrassed to hear that coming from a talented official of the Empire. I’m still learning the ropes, but I do try and put on a bold front.”
“‘Learning the ropes,’ huh… I’ve encountered any number of royals throughout my career, but I sense a clarity in you that’s no less than the ruler of any other nation.”
“Isn’t that an awful lot of praise to be laying on an unmarried youngster, Ambassador Talum?” Wein responded casually, flashing him a wry smile.
Teord’s eyes suddenly widened. “Come to think of it, are you betrothed, Your Highness…?”
“Hmm? Ah, well… The vassals are apparently searching for candidates, but I don’t have a ring set aside for anyone yet.” Wein’s shoulders shrugged. “If I became smitten with a commoner, I’d go down in history, but when I close my eyes, all I see are mountains of paperwork.”
“…I see.” Teord nodded and flashed a sliver of a smile, his face marked with deliberation. “Marriage is a fine thing, Your Highness. It makes life all the richer.”
“But they say there can be no fortune without misfortune, don’t they?”
“A spouse will stick with you, even in those hard times.”
“…I see. When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound bad at all.”
Wein and Teord talked for a while longer until it was time for their first meeting to draw to a close. No new ties had been formed between the two nations. It was nothing more than the young crown prince and the new ambassador introducing themselves to each other. Based on the outcome, that was all anyone would assume had happened.
But something unexpected had transpired. Despite the undesirable outcome, Teord’s face was not marred by disappointment but instead lit up by a shining beacon of hope.
…The gold mine may not have worked out, but there’s potential here.
As he formulated a plan in his mind, the ambassador briskly exited the palace.
Wein stared out the window as he watched Teord leave.
Ninym piped up beside him. “…And? Is it okay to just leave that be?”
“Huh?”
“Ambassador Talum. Didn’t you notice?” Ninym spoke with slight distaste. “He…plans on finding a bride for you in the Empire.”
“Seems that way.”
That was Teord’s last-minute plan. From the perspective of an outsider, Wein was a young, mild-mannered crown prince overflowing with wisdom—and most importantly, he was single. For the girls and women of the world, he was a rare find. If Teord introduced him to the woman who would become his princess, the ambassador would stand tall in the eyes of his superiors.
“It may have been a last-ditch effort, but that was pretty gutsy.” Wein gave a wry smile.
There were none more terrifying than Wein and Ninym. The duo had not only seen through Teord’s plans but already took his next moves into account as well.
“Well, it won’t exactly be easy for him to pull off. Right, Ninym?”
“…Yes. If he’s going to introduce a girl to foreign royalty, commoners are out of the question. The daughter of a baron or viscount wouldn’t be proper, either. He’d want a daughter of an earl at the very least, but I don’t think the ambassador has any appropriate connections for that.”
“Plus, even though the Empire’s laws allow left-hand marriages, the nobility would need the approval of the Emperor to join a royal family in another country. With their country’s throne empty, there’s not much they can do.”
It wasn’t rare for marriages among noble families to come laden with restrictions, especially when it came to unions with influential foreigners. These had the potential to throw off the internal power balance or invite other nations to meddle with their affairs, which meant most nations remained vigilant against these marriages. However, the Empire was on the lenient side in making allowances. There were some kingdoms in the West with strict social hierarchies that entirely forbade marriage to foreigners and between people of unequal social rank, like those between commoners and nobles. Only unions equal to one’s bloodline were acceptable.
“It may be extremely unlikely, but it’s still possible. The ambassador may know people with enough political clout to push it past the empty throne.”
“Yeah, but would someone with that amount of power go out of their way to pester the royal family? Especially when the Empire is in shambles. If they’ve got a girl of marrying age, my guess is that the family will want to prioritize domestic relationships first.”
“Hmm… Maybe they’re ready to call it quits with the Empire.”
“Not a chance. It would be a possibility if they were on the verge of dissolving. The Empire might split up, but it’s far from completely sinking. It’s too soon to say they’re closing up shop.” Wein paused and grinned. “In other words, I’m not going to marry anyone from the Empire. So, cheer up.”
“…I’m not upset.”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire! You’re totally pissed at me! Aw, Ninym, you’re so cute when you’re blushiOWOWOWOWOW?!”
“I’ve been thinking for a while now that I could probably add a few more joints to your arm…”
“No! Please! I only need one! Capped at my elbow!”
Ninym let go of Wein’s arm indignantly. “I wasn’t blushing.”
“I know. Forgive me. You weren’t blushing and you weren’t in a sour mood. You’re the same standout cutie and super-beautiful chick as always. Are we good now?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously…?”
After shuddering slightly as Ninym gave a satisfied nod, Wein pulled himself together.
“In any case, it’ll be impossible for the ambassador to find someone worthy of my station, and even if he does, I’m not planning to accept any proposals. Including nobles in Natra.”
Ninym’s eyes slightly widened at this. It would make sense to avoid getting tangled up in the current tumultuous state of the Empire. But what could possibly motivate him to refuse getting betrothed to one of his own people?
It hit Ninym hard.
“Wein, could it be…” she asked with a trembling voice, “…that you’re interested in men?”
“I’m going to squeeze your boobs.”
“Each squeeze will cost one finger.”
“Miss Standout Cutie, don’t you think that’s a hefty price to pay?!”
“Tell me your reason, and I’ll give you a discount.”
What a bad business practice. Wein answered. “It’s really not that complicated, y’know? I mean, basically—I’m gonna sell out the country the minute I get the chance anyway.”
“………” Ninym put her hand over her eyes.
“From the perspective of a hopeful bride, they’ll be coming here with the expectation of becoming the queen to a future king. But those dreams would be totally obliterated. I’d feel bad.”
“…If you’re able to have any sympathy at all, I’d say you should put a hard stop at committing treason.”
“Nope, it’s definitely happening. My heart is set on tossing away duty and responsibility and enjoying a life of leisure!”
“…I see.”
“I’ve answered your question. And? How much do your boobs cost now?”
“Two fingers.”
“Are you seriously jacking up the price?!”
Ninym gave an exaggerated sigh. “Honestly… I think I’d rather pray the ambassador brings along someone you can’t refuse.”
“Good luck finding her. Wanna bet on it?”
“All right. If I win, I’ll shove a boiled potato up your nose.”
“Oh, now we’re talkin’. You haven’t got a chance.”
With the challenge on, Wein let out a laugh.
“I’ve done it.”
“Huh?”
A few weeks had passed since their first meeting. At the very start of their second interaction, that was the first thing out of Teord’s mouth.
“Done what…?” Wein asked nervously.
Teord replied with some hesitation. “It may have been presumptuous of me. Upon hearing that you were a bachelor, I searched far and wide in the Empire for a suitable prospect to strengthen the bond between our nations.”
“I see, yes, that… I would have appreciated a warning.”
“My apologies. I couldn’t say for certain whether I would be able to find a suitable girl, you see…”
Teord had a point. If he’d failed to deliver, he would have lost face. And he really couldn’t have taken that risk during their last meeting. Because Wein understood this, he didn’t press the issue. Besides, he had other problems.
“I understand. Let’s just move on… You’re saying you’ve found her?”
“I did.”
“……”
Wein indirectly looked at Ninym, who was standing by him as his aide. She was smiling brightly. It was a grin of someone totally prepared to shove a potato up his nose.
I’ll shut this thing down if it’s the last thing I do, he thought.
“First of all, Ambassador Talum, allow me to offer my thanks. After all, you did go to great pains for my benefit. But I am a member of the royal family. I don’t know who you’ve found, but the criteria for choosing the future queen are strict,” Wein warned.
Teord nodded with zero hesitation. “I am aware of this, of course. And there are…no problems in that regard.”
“Hmph…”
Wein considered Teord’s behavior. The ambassador must have been confident that Wein and this girl he found would fall in love at first sight if he was insisting that there would be no problems. But something was off. If Teord had been acting as he had in the last meeting, it wouldn’t have seemed strange for him to be worked up. But why was he so fidgety this time?
I’m guessing she checks all the boxes…but comes with a complication. Maybe? he speculated as he spoke up.
“Ambassador Talum, you seem restless. Could it be there’s something about this candidate that I should be concerned about?”
“N-no! Absolutely nothing of the sort!” Teord’s voice rose in a panic. “Her features are perfectly elegant, and you could not ask for a disposition more befitting of a lady. She is sharp enough even I can tell. I believe she’ll strike a chord with you, Your Highness. But…”
He trailed off.
Beautiful, mild-mannered, and intelligent. In the face of all this, Teord’s reaction could only mean—
“What about her pedigree?”
“ ” Teord’s shoulders shook slightly.
Bull’s-eye, Wein thought.
Just as Ninym assumed, the ambassador didn’t have any connections to influential nobles. Which meant he must have sniffed out some low-ranking aristocrat on the verge of ruin.
In that case, it’d be easy to refuse her. Wein adopted a cool tone.
“I know that I’m repeating myself, but I am a member of the royal family. I don’t know this girl, but I can’t accept anyone whose family lacks similar standing.”
Wein laid out a justifiable reason for refusal—social barriers. At this rate, his opponent would have no choice but withdraw. He felt confident in his victory, but Teord spoke up just as Wein was watching the mental potato fade away from his mind.
“Um, there’s no problem with that, either.”
“Huh?” Wein blinked back.
“Well, I should say that there is something about her status you should keep in mind…”
“…Hmm? What? If you’re saying there’s no problem, it’s unlikely she’s the daughter of a baron or viscount. Did you find a lady from the house of some famous earl?”
“……” Teord remained silent.
But Wein could tell it wasn’t because he’d hit the nail on the head. Why won’t he speak up?
Wein finally realized something: Teord wasn’t uneasy from anxiety or impatience but from not fulfilling the parameters assigned to him.
It was the panic of a humble man who had reaped a harvest far larger than he could handle.
“Ambassador Talum. Could she have a ranking…higher than the daughter of an earl?”
“…Yes.”
“…A marquis?”
“…Higher.”
“…A duke?”
“…One more above that.”
“…Wait, that would leave us with…”
Wein’s cheek twitched, and Teord nodded. His voice was a mixture of nerves and trepidation.
“Your Highness, the one interested in becoming your betrothed is our Earthworld Empire’s Second Imperial Princess…Her Royal Highness Lowellmina Earthworld—”
From this sudden marriage proposal that had appeared out of the blue, a new sweltering wind arose in Natra, where the cold winter days loomed ahead. In time, this era would be known as the Great War of Kings.
The curtains for the second act were about to rise on one key player: Wein Salema Arbalest.
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