Chapter 5 - Upset in the Merchant City
“…I see. I think I get the gist.”
It was the morning after Wein arrived in Mealtars. Ninym had brought Wein up to speed.
He crossed his arms. “I’m not surprised she was done in during the ceremony. And I knew you would turn down a deal with Lowa. But I never would have guessed there would be an attack and a marriage proposal.”
“I’m sorry. If we had returned home right after the attack, we could have avoided the proposal.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ninym. If I had been here, we would have stayed. Think of it as a good thing. Now we know to watch out for Demetrio… Yawn.”
“Are you okay, Wein?”
“I guess I went overboard. I’m pooped.”
I’m gonna sleep for three days straight when we get back, Wein silently schemed.
“The real problems start now. The biggest two issues are how to peacefully turn down Demetrio’s marriage proposal and get everyone home in one piece. If possible, I’d also like to sit down with Prince Bardloche and Prince Manfred.”
“I get why we want to prioritize the first two, but why Prince Bardloche and Prince Manfred?”
“For starters, I want to get a good measure of their characters. And I want to establish some sort of ties with them for the future. Plus, it’ll get me some insight into the summit, and I can dispel the impression that Natra is siding with Lowellmina’s faction.”
“Makes sense.” Ninym saw where he was coming from.
On the first day of the ceremony, anyone could tell that Falanya and Lowellmina were on good terms—which was a sign that the Imperial princess was friendly with Natra.
But if the crown prince took out time to speak with the Imperial princes, it would color the public opinion about the relationship between Falanya and Lowellmina—from political to strictly personal.
“Well, in exchange, it will lower Falanya’s political credibility. But I think it’s worth the effort.”
“How will you get in touch with them? Will you have Lowa set it up?”
“That would be the proper way, but I don’t really want her to lord it over me…”
That was the Lowellmina way. It wouldn’t surprise him if she did him this favor and tried to make him repay it two-hundred-fold.
“But you don’t have another choice, right? Especially since we don’t have much time.”
“True. I imagine Levetia won’t stay silent for long. I’d better finish up everything before that happens…” Wein tried to think of an alternative plan.
Someone knocked at the door. It was a lady-in-waiting.
“Please pardon me. Prince Wein, two messengers have come to see you.”
“Messengers? From where?”
“One is from Prince Bardloche and the other is from Prince Manfred. They have both extended invitations to meet with you, Your Highness.”
Wein and Ninym automatically looked at each other.
“…Okay, I’ll be right there. Have them hang around.”
“Understood.”
The lady-in-waiting left, and Wein chuckled softly.
“Looks like I wasn’t the only one waiting for an opportunity.”
“It seems that way. But which one will you choose, Wein?”
“Hmm…” Wein thought for a moment. “Well, you did say you hit it off with the mayor.”
“What? Yes, he invited Princess Falanya for a guided tour around the city.”
“In that case, we’ll capitalize on that.” Wein grinned as he stood up.
As the mayor, Cosimo hosted many visitors in his manor—for politics, budget meetings, and sometimes darker subjects.
Inevitably, the reception rooms were constantly ready to receive guests. Cosimo especially appreciated the aesthetic details and furnishings of the room where he welcomed members of noble families. It was his prided room, befitting of anyone.
But on this day, his bloated confidence had shrunk down to a little speck that could be carried off by the slightest breeze.
“I’m terribly sorry that this is all I could prepare.”
Three people and Cosimo were seated together in the room.
“It’s perfectly serviceable. We did come on such short notice, after all,” said Wein, one of the three people. “I heard you really helped out my sister, and I wanted to express my gratitude, Mayor Cosimo.”
“You’re too kind, Prince Wein.” Cosimo bowed deeply before turning to look at someone else. “Imperial Princes, should you feel inconvenienced by anything, please do not hesitate to inform me.”
“Should be fine. Tea basically tastes the same everywhere.”
“You have no class, Bardloche. But I have nothing to complain about.”
The other two people in the room: Prince Bardloche and Prince Manfred.
It was a three-man meeting between the royal families of Natra and the Earthworld Empire. Even Cosimo had reason to be tense.
“I never would have guessed you would send an envoy at the same time as me, Bardloche. You seem to have taken an interest in Prince Wein.”
“Right back at ya. As calculating as ever.”
“I’m not like you, Bardloche. I don’t have your physical strength, so I have to depend on this brain.” Manfred shrugged dramatically. “Nonetheless, I was shocked that Prince Wein would choose this place.”
It was Wein who had chosen Cosimo’s manor as their meeting spot.
Since their invitations had come to him at the same time, Wein normally would have had to choose one to postpone to a later date. However, that would not send the right message. Because he wanted to be on good terms with both of the princes, it would be in his best interest to avoid stirring up any negative emotions. Hence, this plan to meet them both at the same time.
He had strategically chosen Cosimo’s manor as their meeting spot: The Imperial princes wanted to win over Mealtars, and Cosimo wanted to size up Wein and the princes for himself.
Which brought them all here.
“Looks like you got a good head on your shoulders, too, Prince Wein.”
“Oh, not at all.” Wein shook his head humbly. “You already know I’ve been in wars with both Marden and Cavarin since becoming regent. If I had been able to see through their motives, I could have avoided it. I’m amazed by my own foolishness.”
“Yeah, but you beat them,” Bardloche replied. “I hear your army was inferior to Marden’s and Cavarin’s soldiers. I want to know how you still won.”
“Oh, I concur. I would love to hear about how you led your army, Prince Wein. You’re rumored to be the greatest war strategist of our time,” added Manfred.
“That’s an exaggeration. But I suppose I can share if you’re interested.”
Wein began to recount his time on the battlefield, and the meeting had a great start.
It expanded into a discussion on martial arts with Bardloche, followed by Manfred talking about the journal where he chronicled his trips in the Empire. The conversation seemed to take off on its own.
Of course, it was all superficial. Beneath the surface, they were all engrossed in their own convoluted thoughts.
Okay, let’s map out the situation, Wein thought. I’m here to convince them that I’m not a part of Lowellmina’s faction and hint at my interest in supporting both of the princes…all without declaring anything openly or siding with anyone. I want them to leave this meeting thinking they can talk to me, even though they didn’t get me to officially join their faction.
That would be the best outcome for Wein. But Bardloche and Manfred had different goals. Wein had to find common ground with them.
When should I bring it up…?
Wein tried to find an opportunity as the meeting continued.
“By the way,” Manfred started, “I hear that Demetrio showed up uninvited at your residence yesterday. If he did something shameless, I apologize on his behalf as a member of the Imperial family.”
“It was no big deal. Princess Lowellmina happened to be with us and acted as a mediator.”
The air grew still.
Wein had brought up Lowellmina. This would trigger all participants to discuss the heart of the matter.
“…You seem friendly with Lowellmina. From what I’ve heard, you were often seen together at the military academy,” Manfred noted.
“It’s strange that we get along well. She’s an irreplaceable friend.”
“A friend? Didn’t you talk about marrying each other?”
“That’s a matter of politics. We’re definitely friends, but that’s separate from national affairs. Those discussions have been put on hold for political reasons.” Wein smiled dryly.
If they didn’t have peas for brains, the princes would realize the true meaning of his statement.
He wasn’t infatuated with Lowellmina. He’d be willing to jump ship for the right circumstances.
It was blasphemous to compare and pit members of the Imperial family up against one another. Demetrio would have grown indignant by now, but Bardloche and Manfred weren’t fazed. They had come into this meeting expecting something along these lines.
But they still might have a tough time deciding if they want to take these motives at face value.
He had gotten the ball rolling. How would they interpret this situation? Would they toss the ball back or drop it?
Wein sipped his tea and waited for their response.
It would be best for them to approach this topic in a cautious and roundabout way. Every word in this foreign negotiation had a potential to have a huge impact on national politics. They needed to carefully lay down the foundation, begin to understand the other side, and finally—
“Then join my faction,” said Bardloche.
“B-blergh?!” Wein spat out his tea.
H-hold up! There are steps to this! You know there’s an order to these things, right?!
Wein gaped at Bardloche for jumping ahead of the program, but Bardloche didn’t seem to care.
“Lowellmina is a woman. I know her faction of patriots are gaining steam, but what’s there to gain from a group that simply wrings their hands about the future? You’ll contribute nothing to the world by supporting them.”
“Ah, no, erm—”
“If I remember correctly, the Flahm are essential to your kingdom. Don’t worry. I couldn’t care less about race or region. I believe in meritocracy, which my subordinates know.”
“That’s fantastic, but, well, erm…”
“You were granted the right to team up with me when you beat Marden and Cavarin. Join me. I’m gonna need all the help I can get if I plan on unifying the continent.”
“R-right…”
Wein’s mind raced. He couldn’t get through to Bardloche—for a different reason than when he was trying to reason with Demetrio.
And since Bardloche had addressed him in this direct manner, Wein couldn’t respond with a noncommittal answer. It would look bad on him, and that wouldn’t be optimal for future developments. Wein was trying to figure out his options when he heard a low chuckle, mocking Bardloche.
“A meritocracy? I never thought I’d hear that from you, Bardloche.”
“What are you trying to say, Manfred?”
“Look at your subordinates. There isn’t one person who isn’t a brawny tactician. Are you sure you didn’t mean muscle-ocracy?”
The princes glared at each other. Bardloche had the larger frame, and Manfred couldn’t match the intimidating steel look in his brother’s eye, but he didn’t avert his gaze even once.
“Power is what the Empire needs right now. A strong country, an almighty emperor, a powerful army. Don’t you understand that’s the very foundation of this nation?”
“Neglecting internal affairs will run the Empire ragged. And we’ll keep searching for the next place to invade to hoist our national debt on them. Like a swarm of locusts. I wonder when the Empire became a hive?”
“Says the one who’s waited on hand and foot by a bunch of disloyal fools. You put together a ragtag group with empty promises. Do you think that will get you through these rough times?”
“You don’t get it. It all depends on how you use those people. Idiots think it’s better to gather the strongest fighters, but that’s basically a declaration that their stupid brains can’t think of a way to utilize the weak. It shows you’re narrow-minded. Aren’t you embarrassed?”
There was a creak…from the bones in Bardloche’s angry, clenched fist.
It was a volatile environment, but Manfred bravely turned away from his brother. “Hey, Prince Wein. Don’t you think so, too?”
What—?! You’re asking me—?! Wein screamed inside. Are you playing with me? Don’t toss me into the fire after you’ve doused it in oil! I’ll beat the crap out of you!
It was too late for Wein to subject Manfred to a storm of scathing criticism. Bardloche’s eyes turned to him, and Cosimo held his breath, unmoving in his seat the whole time, anticipating Wein’s answer.
“…This is my personal opinion, but…”
Wein found it hard to get behind either. And he really didn’t want to flatter one of them.
That left him with only one option.
“…I have to say, you fight over the smallest stuff.”
“What…?!”
“Hmm…?”
Wein could see his bold statement had lit a fire in their eyes and chuckled arrogantly, wishing he could just go home.
“Your respective arguments are sound. But they’re nothing more than pipe dreams when you actually look at the situation. Your silver tongues won’t help you out. Do us all a favor and bring the summit to some sort of resolution.”
Crap! Wein immediately regretted. I went too far.
He had just wanted to say they were talking big, even though they couldn’t even pressure their own brother out of the race for the throne. But he’d accidentally chosen fighting words. He readied his hidden weapon, waiting to see what they would do.
“—Ha-ha-ha!” Manfred suddenly let out a hearty laugh. “You’re right, Prince Wein! Even though we’ve been bragging, we haven’t managed to give Demetrio the boot!” He rose from his seat. “I enjoyed our time today, Prince Wein. Once we’ve settled things with the summit, I would love to chat with you again.”
As Manfred left the room, Bardloche stood up as well.
“…Frustrating as it is, I have to admit what you say makes sense. I said you had all the makings of a subordinate, but I might be the one who needs to step up and prove myself as a leader,” Bardloche said. “We’ll meet again when I do.”
He exited the room, leaving only Wein and Cosimo behind.
Cosimo wasn’t trying to butter him up as he spoke to Wein with heartfelt sympathy.
“…Good work today, Prince.”
“…Yeah, thanks,” he replied with a tired smile.
“Ah… I’m exhausted,” Wein moaned when he returned from Cosimo’s manor.
Ninym came to greet him.
“How’s Falanya?” he asked.
“She’s back at the assembly hall today. But we’ve increased the guards as you requested. And Nanaki is with her.”
“Good.” Wein nodded.
Ninym continued. “And how did your meeting with the princes go?”
She hadn’t accompanied him, since she had her hands full setting up the new staff and goods that came with Wein.
“About that… It looks like ordinary methods won’t work on Bardloche or Manfred.
“However,” Wein continued, “I accomplished the bare minimum. They see we have the potential to discuss things further… I think!”
“The last bit has me anxious…”
“Well, it’ll probably…definitely…work out… Anyway, anything happen on your end, Ninym?”
“Nothing at all. Except this.” Ninym held out a single letter.
“What’s that?”
“An invitation from Lowa to a secret meeting.”
It was evening when Wein and Ninym stood in front of the designated location. It was the tower that Cosimo had explained to Falanya earlier. The entrance was normally locked and only accessible during emergencies, but it had been open. The two stealthily entered, greeted by dusty air, and climbed the wooden stairs that led to the top.
“Geez, Lowa has a thing for these kinds of places.”
“Well, she enjoys coming up with schemes that would require her to secretly meet friends in weird locations. Like the top of this bell tower apparently.”
They reached their destination. Waiting for them was a huge bell that looked as if it had seen many years, the townscape of Mealtars bathed in twilight, and…
“You made it.”
The Imperial princess of the Empire, Lowellmina, her profile red from the sunset. She turned toward them with a smile.
But this time, she wasn’t alone.
There were two more people with her. Their shadows were perfectly still beside the bell.
“Wein! Ninym! Long time no see.”
“It’s been a while.”
Glen Markham.
Strang Nanos.
Wein had spent so much time with them at the academy.
At first, it had just been Wein and Ninym.
After a while, Strang came into the picture.
“How do you manage to act like that?”
For someone from the provinces, the military academy was basically a cramped camp to Strang. He admired Wein for going down his own path, even when he was facing the nobles.
Then came Glen.
“If I’m gonna beat you, I’ve got to get to know you.”
Glen saw Wein as a worthy opponent, since Wein succeeded in everything he did. Glen had always had pride and purpose as a future soldier of the Empire.
And finally, there was Lowellmina.
“I’m curious about you all. Will you let me observe you?”
Her life as a caged bird, as the daughter of the Emperor, had suffocated her. She was beguiled by Wein’s way of living.
The five had spent many of their days together. Even though their paths had separated, those golden days never faded—
“I never thought the gang would get together again.” Wein laughed, leaning against the rooftop edge. “You’re both looking good, Glen, Strang.”
“You too,” Glen replied with his arms folded. “You disappeared right before graduation. I never thought I’d see you here.”
Strang smiled wryly. “I was surprised…not just because Wein is here.”
“You’ve got that right, Strang… Wein.” Glen gave a harrumph that seemed very intentional. “Don’t you have something to say to us?”
“Hmm…” Wein thought it over for a moment. “Oh yeah. Glen, I was the one who made sure your fiancée got that letter you never sent.”
“That was you—?!” Glen tried to grab Wein.
“I touched up your writing, so it read more flowery and antiquated. You should be thanking me.”
“How could you! She totally expected me to be an expert in classic literature when I went to see her. Do you know how hard it was to keep my cover from being blown?!”
“Let it go, Glen. You only failed because you bit off more than you could chew!”
“That was all your fault—!”
Wein and Glen started going at it.
Strang gave them a sidelong glance. “Well, we already knew neither of you are commoners.”
“Because my regal air can’t be contained!” Wein boasted.
“Yeah, right!”
Strang’s shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s true. You weren’t the least bit regal. But no commoner just understands the etiquette in both sides of the continent or deciphers the Church’s holy texts.”
In this era, it was difficult to learn anything beyond general knowledge. On top of that, those versed in specialized languages and skills were few and far between. It required significant time and money to find these people, offer them proper compensation, and seek their instruction.
The same thing applied to teaching materials. There were no texts that increased in difficulty to match the reading level and abilities of the student. The channels of communication were still primitive, meaning information and experiences were rooted in their immediate surroundings. The works by authors tended to fade into obscurity.
“I thought you were the illegitimate child from some important noble family…not the prince of a foreign nation.”
Ninym interjected. “Just so you know, I’m a normal commoner.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re the prince’s aide.” Strange shrugged.
Lowellmina cut in. “Anyway, let’s toast.” She took out glasses for everyone. “And guess what? I brought snacks!”
“You came prepared,” Ninym commented.
“I was looking forward to it. When Princess Falanya came in Wein’s stead, I thought we would have to cancel, so I’m happy we could all hang out.”
As Lowellmina cheerfully held out glasses for them, Wein and Glen ceased their fighting. Ninym poured wine for everyone.
“What are we making a toast to?” Wein asked.
Lowellmina already had an answer in mind.
“It should be obvious. All right! Three, two, one!”
“To never-ending work.”
“To the future of the kingdom.”
“To the prosperity of the Empire.”
“To the liberation of the provinces.”
“Hold on!” Lowellmina shouted. “Why’re you all saying different things?!”
“Wein, are you sure you want to toast to a mountain of work?” Ninym confirmed.
“If I’m going to get wine out of it, then why not?”
“Man, you’re still on the whole ‘free the provinces’ thing?” Glen asked Strang.
“I’ll do anything to make it happen.”
“Hmph…!” Lowellmina’s cheeks puffed out in irritation.
Wein lifted his glass. “Just kidding.” He laughed.
“Let’s do it for real this time—to our reunion.”
The four echoed, ““To our reunion.””
Their clear voices bounced across the sunset rooftop.
“Glen. Strang. How’ve you been?” Wein asked after their toast and exchanging pleasantries.
“After graduating from the academy, I entered the military as planned. I serve under Prince Bardloche right now.” Glen sighed. “To be honest, I don’t care about all this factional fighting. Anyone can be the next emperor. I’d still be in the military, fighting for the Empire. But my family and my fiancée’s family side with the middle prince…”
“Hmm, even Glen the Great can’t go against family, huh,” Wein mocked.
Glen snorted. “Hmph, laugh all you want.”
“Pffft! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! How sad! Glen, you’re totally uncool—!”
“—GRAAAGH!”
“Whoa?! Weren’t you the one who gave me permission to laugh?!”
“Dammit! Don’t you know what it means to cross a line?”
“Hmm… What could that mean? Who came up with that?”
Strang smiled as the two started going at it once again and returned to the topic. “I’m with Prince Manfred, and I’m currently serving as the acting governor-general in my hometown of Burnoch.”
Ninym cocked her head. “The acting governor-general, huh. You’ve done well for yourself.”
“Remember that rebellion? The top leaders in our town were a part of it. Their heads went flying after the political purge. Even though I was low on the ladder, I’ve found myself in this position.” Strang shrugged. “And since we participated in the rebellion, Burnoch was going to suffer major consequences. Prince Manfred somehow mediated and smoothed things over.”
“So you’re indebted to him.”
“That’s right. Besides, Prince Demetrio is indifferent about the provinces, and Prince Bardloche wants to rule with an iron fist. For that reason, Manfred has appeal to the weak and disenfranchised. He’s dangled independence in front of the provinces, and we want it so bad.”
“Do you really think you’ll obtain it?”
“Not at all. But more people cling to that dream than you can possibly imagine, Ninym. I want to help my homeland’s dreams become reality.”
It must be difficult, Ninym thought. It was an admirable act of devotion to serve others over yourself. She would have given him a round of applause…if this hadn’t been a conversation between friends.
“It pains me that I can’t just invite you to join my faction,” Lowellmina grumbled.
Glen and Strang had obligations greater than her own will. To abandon their duties would be the same as throwing half their lives away.
“Looks like the three of you have discussed this already,” Ninym noted.
“Yeah. We decided to focus our attention on each of our factions,” Strang replied. His eyes narrowed sharply. “Which is why I’m concerned about your nation’s policies, Wein. What does Natra plan on doing?”
Wein and Glen stopped their fighting, and the prince straightened up.
“There’s only one thing that an honest and virtuous prince of a tiny nation can do.”
“Honest and virtuous…?” Strang questioned.
“He isn’t either of those.”
“You mustn’t lie, Wein,” Lowellmina said.
“…Presiding Judge Ninym! Isn’t this slander?!” Wein wailed.
“What? Hmm…”
Lowellmina quietly took out a wooden box. “By the way, Ninym, this is a present for you. There is incense wood inside.”
“Oh, I have something for you, too. It’s an anthology of Burnoch folktales.”
“I brought a self-defense sword made by a friend, a blacksmith. Look at the craftsmanship.”
“All parties are not guilty.”
“You’re accepting bribes right in front of me, Judge!” Wein whined as Ninym expressed her gratitude to each of the offerings.
“Back to the subject at hand,” Wein said. “I don’t plan on getting chummy with any one prince…for now. Gotta take each horse out for a ride before betting on a winner, right?”
“Won’t the one chosen by the rumored crown prince of Natra automatically be the winner?”
“That’s a bit generous. We’re making some headlines, but Natra is a small nation in the north. We don’t have the power to interfere with politics in the Empire.”
“Hmm… Fair point. If you had sided with Lowa, you would have had no reason to speak with the princes.”
It seemed they had learned of his meeting with the two princes.
“By the way, any presents for me?” Wein asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nada.”
“I’m so hurt!”
The boys continued to talk.
Lowellmina secretly whispered, “Ninym, I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Could you give me some time to speak with Wein alone?”
“…Fine. But don’t try anything strange.”
It seemed like a good time to wrap up the boys’ conversation.
“Let’s call it a day. The sun is already setting,” Ninym called out.
“Hmm… You got a point. That’s too bad. But I guess I’ve said everything I needed to say,” Glen replied.
Strang nodded. “We’ve decided to fulfill our duties in our current positions. I guess that’s what I’d expected from us.”
Anyone else would have had a hard time understanding. But there was no way amiability and animosity would coexist between them. These five people all felt that way.
“Anyway, Wein, Ninym, it was nice seeing you. Let’s talk more next time,” Strang said.
“Yeah. I don’t know when that will be, but I’ll bring some good wine,” Glen added.
The two headed down the stairs first. Wein went to follow them, but Ninym gave him a look that held him back. He stopped in his tracks. Ninym followed after the men instead.
Wein and Lowellmina were alone on the rooftop. He was the first to speak.
“What’d you wanna talk to me about?”
“Hmm, ‘talk’…? Try ‘consult’ or ‘complain,’” she replied vaguely.
“Okay…” Wein responded. “Finally realize that running a faction sucks?”
“Mmm… Yes…” Lowellmina said, nodding quietly. “I didn’t think it would be this taxing… Everyone acts in their own self-interest, and I have to go to great lengths just to convince them to back a common policy…” Lowellmina sighed. “But I imagine you have to do something more difficult on a daily basis.”
“It’d take three days and nights for me to tell you about my grievances.”
“I’m starting to think I should have a bit more respect for you.”
“A lot more respect.”
“Now that you say that, I’m not sure I can respect you at all…” Lowellmina muttered.
Wein continued on. “I’m guessing there’s something else?”
“……”
“Well, I’ve got a pretty good idea what it is.”
Lowellmina remained silent.
“You wanted your brothers to choose the next emperor.”
Her shoulders trembled slightly. But she feigned ignorance as if it weren’t the least bit true.
“Why would you think that?” she asked. “Everyone knows we won’t choose the next emperor during the summit and the true purpose of this event: to establish our dominance and strengthen our own factions by gathering powerful allies in one place. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“That’s true. Even Bardloche, Manfred, or Demetrio don’t believe they’ll reach a decision. But you still had faith. It would be strange if you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“You still haven’t declared you’re aiming for the throne, Lowa. You’re not even up in the running. What did you think this summit would do? Even if everything worked out and you all came to a decision, the odds of you becoming empress are slim to none.”
“……”
“Time has always been on your side, Lowa. The people of the Empire will denounce the three princes without you having to do anything. They will rally behind their princess, for the future of the Empire. You don’t need to host the summit or speed up the process of deciding the Emperor…because the opposition among the princes means the discussion will come up empty and sway public opinion further in your favor.”
Lowellmina had nothing to say as she leaned against the edge of the tower wall. She slid to the ground and hung her head.
“…I’m so uncool.”
She wanted to be empress. She wanted to change things. But there were people who were frightened without a leader. Lowellmina had been unsure whether she should pursue her ambitions if that meant casting her eyes from them.
After worrying and pondering, she’d called the Summit of the Imperial Children to order. She had pretended it was all for superficial reasons—for signaling that the Empire still had it, for strengthening their individual factions. But under it all, she had hoped they would actually decide on an emperor.
“…Wein, give me some words of encouragement.”
“Uh, sorry, fresh out.”
“Fine. Now that you’ve heard what I have to say, what’s your honest opinion?”
“That you’re pretty dumb.”
“Damn you…” She glared at him.
Wein smiled. “But hey, it’s all good. Aiming for the throne is an emotional journey. It’s not rare to be taken off course by your feelings.”
He continued. “And don’t get down in the dumps. You’ve got something to think about. What’s actually going on with the summit?”
“…I can’t give any details, but the prospects are grim. Demetrio has a one-track mind to be the Emperor, making conversations impossible. Meanwhile, Bardloche and Manfred never intended to come to a final decision during the summit.”
“Okay. And what are you going to do? Bet on a slim chance? Cast aside the people’s desires and throw your hat in the ring?” Wein grinned. It was a smile that was ready to stir the pot. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t mind helping out.”
“……”
Lowa did not reply. After a long silence, she stood up resolutely.
“It’s time that we head back as well. We’ve tarried here too long.”
Lowellmina passed by Wein and headed for the stairs. Just before she exited, she stopped and turned around.
“Wein.”
“What?”
“I’ll definitely get you mixed up in my business—I won’t lose.” Lowellmina looked at him fondly, and she appeared resolute.
Wein responded with a wry smile and followed her down the stairs.
Wein and Ninym returned to their manor after parting with their three friends.
“Welcome back, Wein.”
“Hey, Falanya. Back already?”
She had arrived before them, excitedly sharing what she had observed during the assembly. Wein interjected on occasion as they ate dinner together.
Afterward, Wein and Ninym went over their next course of action in his room.
“Our biggest problem is Demetrio.”
Ninym nodded in agreement. “We were able to establish a relationship with Prince Bardloche and Prince Manfred during our meeting. And we showed them that we’re not as close to Lowa as they previously thought. If we can become friendly with Prince Demetrio, we will have successfully set ourselves at an equal distance from all of them.”
Except they knew forming a relationship with Demetrio to be difficult. After all, Wein had verbally beat him at their first meeting. Demetrio must have cooled off by now and realized he’d been completely cajoled with sweet words. It’d be no surprise if he was furious.
“Wouldn’t it be better to give up on Demetrio? From what I can see, he’s the farthest from the throne,” Ninym suggested.
“No. If Bardloche and Manfred go down together, there’s a chance he’ll rise to be the Emperor. It would be a different story if there was no chance of that happening. But it’s too early to say.”
“How can we befriend him? You plan on refusing his proposal to Falanya, right?”
“Obviously. Why would I ever entrust my little sister to him?”
“You have a serious sister complex.”
“I’ve got the good kind.”
What’s the bad kind? Ninym wondered but kept her mouth shut.
“I’ve got a few ideas to get on Demetrio’s good side. Of course, everything needs to go just right, but let’s cross that bridge when we get there.”
“In that case, I’ll prepare a messenger… Though I imagine he won’t reply.”
“…Again, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Wein and Ninym gave each other meek nods.
Meanwhile, Prince Bardloche was summarizing his day with a subordinate.
“How was your meeting with Prince Wein?”
“Can’t let your guard down,” he said frankly. “We weren’t together all that long, but he didn’t show off his position or accomplishments. I could sense him trying to get the upper hand while observing us the entire time.”
“Someone with a level head, it seems.”
“I wouldn’t say that. He must be the type who can switch between calculating and passionate at the drop of a hat. Nothing like those guys who think they can get by on logic alone.”
As the superior martial artist, Bardloche noticed Wein hadn’t let his guard down once during the meeting. Even if something unexpected had happened, he would have acted without hesitation.
“I don’t think it was a stroke of good fortune that he managed to beat Marden and Cavarin. The rapid ascent of Natra in recent years has to be attributed to the prince.”
“If you are praising him, then…?”
“Yeah. We’ve gotta be careful around him, but I’ll manage. Once he’s under my command, he’ll become a major asset to my military rule.”
Bardloche continued on with conviction. “Just you watch, Demetrio, Manfred. I’m going to be the next emperor…!”
“—What’s Bardloche thinking?” Manfred sneered.
The subordinate tilted his head. “Prince Manfred, are you saying Prince Wein isn’t worthy of your time?”
“I can tell he’s excellent. I mean, his grades at the military academy were so unprecedented that all record of it got totally wiped. He’s leading Natra as a capable regent, a remarkable figure.”
“And…”
“That’s why we’ll kill him.”
The subordinate’s eyes grew wide.
Manfred continued. “I confirmed that during our meeting today. He’ll never be satisfied living on his knees under another’s rule. If you try to rein him in, he won’t just bite off your hand—he’ll go for your throat. But he’ll only keep getting better with time. If we let him live, he’ll become a real threat.”
“That’s…” The subordinate was surprised but gave no retort.
If that was what Manfred decided, then it would be done.
“We have spies keeping an eye on Demetrio, right?”
“Yes, we managed to infiltrate them successfully. It seems Demetrio has recently lost a few of his pawns, though the specifics are unknown to us. We should be able to move freely now.”
Manfred nodded. “Since Demetrio had caused an uproar, I’m guessing Prince Wein will attempt to repair the relationship and pay him a visit. Order our men to kill Wein there.”
“Understood… If the prince of an ally nation dies during the meeting, everyone will find Prince Demetrio suspicious.”
Manfred smirked. “We’ll do away with Prince Wein and destroy Demetrio’s reputation. Two birds with one stone. The people of Natra will be enraged, but without Prince Wein, they’ll be no threat.”
“Understood. I shall make the appropriate preparations…”
The subordinate bowed reverently.
It was almost surprising that it was so easy to meet with Demetrio again.
The messenger had set out first thing the next morning and returned at noon with a letter accepting Wein’s invitation.
“What do you think he could be up to?” Wein asked.
Demetrio was obviously hostile toward Wein. If the Imperial prince was eager to meet up, that gave Wein cause for concern.
“Good question… What if he realized our value as an ally nation and hopes to repair the relationship?”
Wein nodded. It was plausible. Demetrio might not feel this way personally, but there had to be at least a few of his vassals who were worried about damaging relations. They must have pressured him to respond, which he probably did reluctantly.
She continued. “There’s a chance that he’s prepared something to force you to accept his marriage proposal to Falanya.”
This was also true. Demetrio might have talked about the union with Falanya with his vassals. If they had concocted a plan to stop the marriage between Wein and Lowellmina, it would make sense why Demetrio would be eager to meet up.
“There’s no doubt he’s after something,” she said. “But since we made the request, we can’t go back on it. Let’s proceed carefully.”
Ninym was trying to inspire him, but Wein’s response was rather muted.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a little sleepy.” Wein yawned.
His trip to Mealtars had been rushed, and he hadn’t been getting enough sleep after his arrival. Wein had too much to do and too much to think about.
“Wein, if you’re that tired…” Ninym touched Wein’s face, but he offered her a small smile.
“Hey, this is nothing. It’s like climbing a mountain. When I’m done with this meeting, I’ll have a lot more time to sleep.”
“If you say so…” Ninym reluctantly nodded, stretching out his cheeks.
“We better hurry and get ready. This is Demetrio we’re talking about. If we’re late, he might faint from rage.”
The two nodded to each other and prepared to head out.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Prince Wein.”
When Demetrio greeted Wein as he arrived to his manor, the Imperial prince seemed in a good mood.
Guess I should assume he’s got something up his sleeve.
Wein remained cautious as he took a seat in the reception room. Ninym stood as an attendant behind him, and Demetrio was directly across from them.
“Here we are. I imagine you invited me to have a constructive conversation?”
“Of course. Prince Demetrio, I do not think you will be disappointed if you have high expectations.”
Their meeting began with traces of tension in the air between them.
“Come to think of it, I hear you met with my foolish brothers yesterday.”
“I was honored by the opportunity. My trip to Mealtars has been worthwhile since I have been blessed to meet all the Imperial princes.”
“Hmph… I doubt talking with them will gain you anything.” Demetrio snorted derisively.
The meeting continued in this way. Demetrio would bring up subjects as if to test him, and Wein would evade the topics while keeping the conversation going. The Imperial prince wanted to have command of the conversation by the time they got to the main discussion. But Wein saw through his act. He chose his words carefully and waited for his opponent to make his move.
Wein waited and waited and waited.
—Why hasn’t he come at me yet?
They were ten minutes into the meeting. And the conversation was going nowhere.
Wein groaned inside. If his opponent was still calm, he would think everything was somehow going according to his enemy’s plan. However, across from him, Demetrio was visibly agitated. In other words, things weren’t going well for him.
What is he doing…?
It couldn’t possibly be that Demetrio hadn’t come up with anything at all.
Wein continued to scrutinize Demetrio.
On the other side of the conversation, Demetrio was thinking to himself.
—Why hasn’t he proposed anything?!
He was fuming.
Wein and Ninym hadn’t guessed his intentions correctly.
They had thought Demetrio had responded quickly because he had something up his sleeve. But the Imperial prince had nothing of the sort. After all, his vassals were busy with the summit and negotiating with the nobles of his faction. Plus, Demetrio never believed Wein had pulled one over on him. He thought it was only a matter of time before Wein made demands, which was why Demetrio let him direct the meeting.
He had accepted this discussion because he thought Wein was ready to talk about his union with Falanya.
However, Wein was making no attempt to get to the heart of the matter. And Demetrio was becoming more and more agitated.
Does he plan on taking it easy? Has his meeting with Bardloche and Manfred gotten to his head? He has it all wrong if he thinks that’ll get him anywhere. In the end, he’s nothing more than the prince of some backwoods nation.
Both parties remained on guard against a nonexistent trump card as they continued to dance around the topic.
The server took away the cold tea, pouring fresh cups and placing one in front of each of them, and tried to leave the room as the two sat wordlessly…
“ Don’t move,” Wein barked to the server.
“Ngh…”
The server’s shoulders trembled, and he turned around.
“Wh-what can I help you with?” The server blinked in surprise.
Demetrio was no different. His eyes darted between them as he wondered what was going on.
“Did you brew this tea?”
“…Yes, but…” The server timidly nodded, seemingly puzzled by this sudden turn of events.
Wein pressed him mercilessly. “Drink it.”
“What…? This tea?”
“That’s right.”
The server looked around the room, but the others said nothing, agape at Wein’s strange behavior. Realizing that no help was forthcoming, the server bowed as low as possible.
“With all due respect, that tea has been hand-selected for hosting and entertaining nobles. Someone such as I must not—”
“I said drink it,” Wein ordered forcefully. It sent chills down the servant’s spine. “You should be able to consume it—if there’s nothing extra in it.”
The attendants in the room finally understood the situation. Wein was implying the tea had been laced with poison.
All eyes turned on the server. With head still bowed, the server gnashed in frustration.
How did he find out…?!
The server was one of Manfred’s spies. He had infiltrated Demetrio’s domain a few years prior, providing information on his faction. Just the day before, he’d been ordered to kill Wein when he arrived at the meeting.
Wein would naturally be heavily guarded since he was in what was essentially enemy territory. The server chose poison as his method of assassination, and he never thought he’d be found out right before he could finish the job.
Shit! How do I get out of this…?!
He had no way to know that Wein had heightened senses that took note of his tense hand as he served the tea, his shifty eyes, his gait as he made his leave… After dedicating himself to observing the people in his palace, Wein was quick to notice suspicious behavior.
Wein’s eyes honed in on the server’s every move.
The prince’s mind raced.
Was it Demetrio? No. I don’t think he would invite the leader of an ally nation to his residence only to poison him. Would it make more sense if the culprit was either Bardloche or Manfred? They might have perceived me as a threat and tried to get rid of me in Demetrio’s manor to place the blame on him…
Wein quietly signaled Ninym with his hand: If the server tries to escape or attack, capture him.
Ninym nodded and subtly readied herself for action.
Neither Wein nor the server made the slightest movement, and the tension mounted—until something happened that no one would have expected.
“—Ha-ha-ha!”
Demetrio suddenly roared with laughter. “I was wondering what was going on. Tea brewed with poison? Ridiculous! You’re under the roof of Demetrio, the next emperor! I would never resort to that!”
His spirits seemed to lift as he scorned Wein.
Because this was what he’d wanted to see—proof of Wein’s weakness.
“I can’t believe you’d lack the courage to drink tea and make false accusations to cover your ass! Hilarious! I don’t understand what people see in a coward like you!”
Demetrio was more talkative than usual.
This is bad, Wein thought. From the server’s reaction, it was obvious the tea was poisoned. If Demetrio kept this up, he was going to be humiliated.
This was karma. But all signs pointed to Demetrio taking his embarrassment out on Wein. If that happened, their plans to reestablish relations would fail.
“Um, Prince Demetrio? I stand by what I said.” Wein tried to quiet Demetrio somehow.
“Hmph. This?”
“Whoa? Ah—”
Demetrio took the cup placed in front of Wein.
“It’s totally fine!”
And he downed it in one gulp.
Wein gaped at him. The server and Ninym were caught off guard.
“How about that, Prince Wein? Did you see that? There’s no poison in this…”
…tea.
He would have said.
“—Urp.”
But Demetrio collapsed.
“Prince—?!” Wein shouted, when the server started to sprint.
Ninym reacted instantly, but she was a beat late, preoccupied with Demetrio.
The server used that second to weave his way through the attendants and crash through a window to the outside. Ninym clicked her tongue and went to follow him, but Wein held her back.
“Ninym! We need a doctor! Now!”
“Ngh… Understood!”
Ninym raced out of the room.
Wein raised his voice. “Why are you all zoned out?! Split into two teams! One will go after the criminal! The other half needs to help me out! We have to hurry and make him throw up the poison!”
“R-right!” The attendants finally moved into action.
But could they really save Demetrio? What would happen if they couldn’t?
Wein kept frantically working to save the prince’s life, imagining the chaos that was to come.
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