Chapter 3 - Gruyere the Beast King
Phithcha was known as a sprawling harbor town and the capital of Soljest. It served as the foundation and prided symbol of the nation.
Blessed with good trade, it hadn’t always been the capital city. However, once Gruyere had taken over the throne, he relocated it and expanded the port.
Phithcha became the capital both in name and substance.
“I’d heard the stories, but they give Mealtars a run for its money.”
A few days had passed since they left the capital of Marden, Tholituke. Inside the carriage, Wein expressed his admiration as they traveled down the main drag of Phithcha.
“Even though we’re both in the North, the port seems to make a world of difference.”
Ninym couldn’t hide her amazement either.
Natra had no warm-water port. At the northernmost tip of the continent, their oceans were frozen solid for over half the year. This was a death sentence in both military and economic pursuits. They could sail for only six months out of the year, and the cost of maintaining their warships only continued to mount. In Wein’s opinion, they were about as useless as scrap paper, and he wished he could chuck them in a wastebasket. “He shoots, he scooores!” Wein imagined calling out.
Any shipmaster who stopped at this dead end would wonder what he did to deserve this punishment.
“Functional ports are nice… Do you think they’ll switch with us? Well, I guess you can’t technically call our fishing village a ‘port’…”
“I mean, no one is eager to set up shop in a place that’s only functional half the time…”
“And we can’t change anything about the weather… Oh, what are they selling at that food stall? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I heard the ceremony is a time to enjoy culinary offerings of the continent. Based on what I’m seeing, I don’t think they were exaggerating. I suppose their self-proclaimed title as the capital of the culinary world holds up.”
“I’d say. Besides, this place has brine in the air, docked boats, and rows of fresh fish… Though they’re both doing well for themselves, Mealtars is inland. This has a different vibe.” Wein clutched his stomach. “…I gotta admit, this is making me hungry.”
“We’re almost to our destination. I’m sure they’ll have plenty for us to eat.”
“I hope it’s enough to satisfy my empty stomach.”
Their discussion carried on as the carriage made its way to the palace.
To get straight to the point, the palace was enormous.
These royal edifices were known for being large. They served to display one’s authority and function as places of administration. It required an appropriate amount of space to accommodate heavy foot traffic.
But this…was on another level. Compared to the downsized palace in Marden and their humble abode in Natra, it was almost astronomical in size.
“…It seems almost too big to be functional. I think they might have gone overboard,” Ninym commented from within the carriage as it came to a halt in front of the palace.
Wein did not chime in to agree with her.
“Oh right,” he remembered. “You’ve never seen King Gruyere.”
“Hm? Yeah. As a Flahm, I can’t imagine any good would come out of meeting him.”
“Well, now’s your chance. You can come along with me. You’ll see why this place is so huge.”
“…Consider this your warning: Don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”
“Pssh. Don’t worry. I promise to think through my actions when the time comes.”
This did nothing to ease her concerns, but this was her master’s order. She was curious to find out more about the rumored king. The original plan would have left her behind in Natra, but she ended up concealing herself as one of his attendants.
“We’ve been expecting you, Prince Wein.”
As they alighted from the carriage, a row of officials bowed to them.
“We’ll guide you to the audience hall as His Majesty has requested. Right this way.”
Wein nodded and began to follow behind the officials. Ninym blended in with the rest of the attendants, following after him…
Hm? That’s…
In a corner of the palace grounds was a carriage parked far away. She couldn’t be sure because of the distance, but she had a feeling she’d seen it a few days prior—
Ack! Don’t leave without me!
Ninym hurried to catch up with the rest of the crowd.
They stepped into the palace, promptly greeted by a spacious interior. The walls were lined with statues and sculptures. However, there were no paintings, for the salt air would damage them with time.
Wein suddenly felt someone’s gaze. He looked in that direction, spying a girl peeking at him from the shadow of a statue. She looked younger than his sister. He’d never seen her before.
However, he could tell from her clothing that she was of a high rank.
Some kid from a noble family? She must be here to gawk at foreign royalty.
The gears in his mind turned. When he looked in her direction again, she was already gone.
Hmm… Well, whatever.
He was a little curious about her, but his crucial match was waiting just up ahead. He wanted his eyes to stay focused on the prize.
“This is the audience hall.”
They finally stood before the door. As the officials solemnly pushed it open, they were met with a lineup of vassals and guards. A large human shadow sat enshrined in the center.
“Welcome, young prince.”
Gruyere Soljest.
The ruler of the nation flashed an arrogant smile.
—I get it now, Ninym thought to herself upon catching sight of Gruyere.
She stood among the attendants behind Wein.
The palace had to accommodate Gruyere’s impressive girth.
He was very husky. Maybe even dreadfully corpulent. Coupled with his height, he was like a rocky boulder resting on the throne. Jiva would look like a pebble next to him.
The fine chair that sagged under him looked like cheap woodwork that might splinter at any moment.
“I’m delighted to receive an invitation to your ceremony, King Gruyere.”
Gruyere called out heartily, “Of course! I’ve been dying to speak with you again after we joined forces to liberate Mealtars. I’m thrilled we could have this opportunity.”
“Likewise, King Gruyere. I’m certain this meeting will be fruitful for both of us.”
He nodded magnanimously. “I have no doubt. Are you hungry? I prefer to dine while talking with important guests.”
Wein looked a little surprised as he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m embarrassed to admit I might have more of an appetite than you.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Looks like we have a contender!” Gruyere slapped his jelly belly.
It echoed like a drum.
“I hope your stomach can keep up with that mouth of yours,” the king teased. “Our cuisine is first-rate. I imagine you’ll eat two—or even three—of your normal servings.”
Gruyere raised a single hand. Several men came in carrying a palanquin. Wein balked at him as they rolled the king into it and hoisted it up.
“To the reception hall.”
“……”
The men walked with the palanquin as if they were totally used to it. Wein snapped back to his senses and hurried after them.
“What’s wrong? Do you find something odd about this?” Gruyere asked from his perch.
Wein chose his words very carefully. “…I was thinking this is a cultural difference.”
Gruyere smiled congenially. “I believe I mentioned it’s hard to walk around when you look like this. This is my usual mode of transportation.”
I see, Wein thought.
He’d assumed the palace had been built to suit Gruyere’s size, but it was more accurate to say it had been built to allow him enough space to utilize a palanquin.
“A lifetime of seeking indulgence has caused this figure, if I remember correctly.”
“Indeed. Nobility can do what others cannot. Walking on feet is peasant logic. If you are a self-professed person of wealth, you have to get the lower classes to carry you.”
“I understand what you are saying, but…”
“I know. Each person of the nobility has a different calling. Maybe yours is different.”
“My own calling? I cannot imagine what that might be.”
“In youth, we are drawn to many things, lured by temptation. As we repeat failures and successes, we come to face the beast growing inside us and understand what it wants.”
Wein thought to himself, He’s one open-minded king…
When they first met in Cavarin, he’d been overwhelmed by the king’s appearance. There was no time for them to interact in Mealtars. However, this laid-back discussion seemed to support his reputation as a wise ruler.
I knew I could trust my gut…! I need to team up with Gruyere!
He assumed Soljest would be after friendly relations. They wanted to curb Natra from advancing west and to band against Delunio.
I thought I’d ask them to let us have a piece of their economic pie by trading with other nations…but I might be able to get more out of this.
In other words, they might be able to form an alliance against Delunio.
The plan would be for Natra and Soljest to work together to topple the kingdom.
Natra has enough soldiers to mobilize. If we attacked a kingdom in the West, Levetia won’t stay quiet about it. But Gruyere is a Holy Elite. He can do what he wants. We could destroy Delunio, split up the territory, and establish channels to trade with each other… Man, I hate to toot my own horn, but this is too perfect.
If all went well, the value of their kingdom would shoot skyward. Of course, this was all hypothetical, but Gruyere had been the one to invite him over. He clearly wanted to get along. There was value in taking on the challenge, enough for Wein to take a gamble.
I’ve got to seal an alliance with Gruyere if it’s the last thing I do…!
The party arrived at their destination. Centerpieces and silverware were placed along the table in preparation for a feast.
As Wein scanned the room, his eyes stopped on someone—the young girl in the place of honor…Gruyere’s and Wein’s seats.
“That’s…”
He’d seen her when he entered the palace.
Just as Wein wondered what she was doing here, Gruyere provided an answer.
“Hmph… That’s my daughter. Tolcheila.”
“Ah, I see, your daughter… Hold up! Your daughter…?!”
Wein couldn’t help looking back and forth between Gruyere and his daughter. Compared to obesity personified, she was petite and slim and bore virtually no resemblance to him.
“We share the same personality, but she takes after her mother’s looks… Tolcheila, what are you doing there? Didn’t I say to stay away while we have a special guest?”
Gruyere’s tone made it obvious that he had a soft spot for her. He offered a wry smile as if he was happy about this inconvenience.
She knew she had him wrapped around her finger.
Tolcheila puffed out her chest. “I reckon I can’t heed your orders, Father.”
There was something distinct about her speech pattern.
“It would be a darn shame if I couldn’t exchange any words with Prince Wein. I mean, I reckon everyone across this continent knows him. I humbly request to join you.”
“Hmph…” Gruyere thought it over. “Ask the prince. If you can get him to agree, you can stay.”
What? Since when is this my job?
Wein immediately glared at Gruyere as Tolcheila tiptoed over to him and gave him an elegant bow.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Wein. I’m Tolcheila, the daughter of King Gruyere.”
“Thank you, Princess Tolcheila. If my memory serves me right, we had the pleasure of meeting before.”
“Ah, you caught me.” She didn’t seem to express any guilt about spying on him. “They say tact is necessary when making your move… Anyway, I’ve been curious to find out more about the rumored ‘Prince Wein.’ Forgive me for my incivility.”
“Of course. Don’t mention it. Having the attention of a beautiful woman is one of the joys of man.”
“That tickles me pink. If you let me join you, my eyes will be all yours. What say you? I know a few things about our cuisine.”
Wein thought over her proposal. His top priority was to negotiate with Gruyere. Time was of the essence. It wasn’t strategic to spend it on third parties. However, it seemed Gruyere and Tolcheila got along. He was better off winning her over.
And besides…
As someone with a younger sister, how could he turn her down?
“—I could not ask for more,” Wein replied. “We feast with our eyes. Besides, I am interested in learning more about your culinary tastes. Please. By all means.”
“I knew you’d come around. I won’t make you regret this, Prince Wein.”
Tolcheila nodded in satisfaction, and the three of them sat in the seats of honor. The banquet began.
If he was being perfectly honest, his expectations for the feast hadn’t been very high.
After all, he was royalty. For his entire life, he’d had opportunities to enjoy the finest food. As an exchange student in the Empire and during his trip to Mealtars, he’d gotten a taste of elaborate dishes.
Listen. I’m a prince. Obviously, I’ve got a refined palate. Best food on the continent? We’re in the boonies, dude! It can‘t be all that different from Natra. Well, I guess they’ll make up for it in variety, since they’re big traders. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m obviously interested in discovering new flavors.
Wein held tight to his condescending attitude…for stupid reasons. No one seemed to care about food in Natra, and he didn’t want to admit his daily meals kinda sucked.
Food was placed before him.
“For starters, we have a white fish and herb salad.”
It was a dish made up of thin slices of white fish decorated with red, green, and yellow vegetables. Tolcheila began to explain.
“Caught in coastal waters, it is a tricky fish to preserve. But it’s exquisite when fresh. Give it a taste.”
“I will. I mean, freshness is next to godliness,” he said, though he looked down on the food in disdain.
What the heck? This is the blandest dish around. I mean, yeah, it looks good. Maybe even really good. But the best on the continent? They totally raised the bar. I thought it would be fancier. Huh. Total fail. What a letdown!
Wein ventured to take a bite. He chewed, let it sit on his palate, swallowed, and took a breath.
IT’S DELICIOOOOOUS! Wein shrieked. Internally.
How in the world? Wait. That’s impossible! How can it be this good? But it’s just fish! Like regular old sliced-up fish?!
White fish had a subtle taste, but the sauce just seemed to elevate its flavors, and the herbal fragrance tickled his nostrils. They harmonized on the tongue.
“Like it?”
“Y-yes, it’s quite delicious…”
Wein panicked inside as he nodded. At this rate, Natra’s food would be unanimously voted blandest in the land!
Calm yourself! This is just the first dish! It could have been a miracle. We haven’t lost yet…!
Wein devoured the white fish as he rallied himself.
We feast with our eyes! It tastes incredible, but the plating is…meh! The best dishes pay attention to presentation and palate!
“Seems the next course has arrived.”
The plate was placed in front of Wein.
Ngh…Th-this is…?!
“A bowl carved from fruit, filled with a delectable mousse made from fish, shellfish, and eggs. Doesn’t its presentation just draw the eye?”
Tolcheila was correct. The brilliant orange of the fruit and white mousse inside created a delicious contrast. The top half of the cut fruit served as a decorative lid, making it look like an open treasure chest.
Gah…! I have no choice but to give it a perfect ten…! Well, let me taste it first… Damn it! It’s delicious! Make that a twelve!
Unlike the previous dish, the rich taste of seafood almost bloomed in his mouth, and the acidity from the fruit bowl served to cleanse the palate from a greasy aftertaste.
“It appears you’re taken by the dish.”
“I-indeed. It’s perfect down to the details.”
Wein internally clutched his head. Did he have no choice but admit his food left a lot to be desired? Did Soljest have no weaknesses for him to prey upon?!
I-it’s not over yet! Maybe the plating and flavors are fantastic! But it doesn’t make a splash. For a banquet, there needs to be something to make an impact.
“Here’s the roast pig.”
AAAAAAAH?!
He could smell it from across the room as several servants entered the hall with an iron plate that held a whole pig, plump as fruit. Bubbling oil sizzled, and the delicious aroma filled the room. Its presence was undeniable. Why does meat taste so good? it seemed to ask. Because it’s meat, obviously. Even if he closed his eyes, he couldn’t quell his raging appetite.
Even his entourage and the vassals let out sighs of wonder. With all eyes focused on it, the servants began to cut into the pig. Even the fullest stomachs created extra space for it.
As he savored the piece served to him, his stomach spoke of the truth. There was no mincing it. It wasn’t necessary. Its flavor profile was more than enough to satisfy the palate.
…I’ve lost…They have me totally beat…Wein admitted as he ate the roast.
Hauling it in on a steel plate was part of the performance. The first two courses had toned things down, so the roast pig could make such an impact. Their attention to detail spoke volumes of their food culture.
“Delicious, right?”
“Very… It lives up to the rumors. It’s exquisite.”
“We encourage the creation of new and innovative food. We have a designated arena where we can test our skills, and those with potential are granted a reward and title. Talented chefs from across the nation gather in Phithcha to push forward progress. All under my father’s leadership.”
Right? Tolcheila seemed to ask her father. He stopped eating for a moment. He had enough in front of him to feed a family of five.
“It’s no big deal. I was wondering how to devour all the delicious food around the world, and it was too much work to go out there and find it myself. So I conjured up a plan that would incentivize chefs to come here.”
“I admire your pursuit of fine cuisine, King Gruyere. If my memory serves me right, don’t you see food as the means to an end—to achieve your physique?”
“Indeed. And isn’t this the most kingly way to achieve my goal?”
“You’re right.”
Wein and Gruyere smiled at each other.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought their food culture was this advanced.
He was eager to soak up as much knowledge about their cuisine as possible during his stay. He was going to bring it back home and see if he could popularize it. If things worked out, it would make this trip worth it. Wein nodded to himself, and…
…Wait! That’s not what I’m here for! he shrieked internally. I want to team up with Soljest! I mean, their food is awesome! And it’d be great if I could bring it back to Natra! But I don’t have time for that right now!
Wein shuddered. He realized his mind had been overcome with thoughts of food. This cuisine was something to be feared.
“Next course,” Tolcheila announced.
“Gah…!”
His thoughts immediately started to turn back to his plate, but Wein caught himself at the last minute.
Pull it together! Our future depends on whether you can make nice with Gruyere! Quit thinking about the meal, even if it’s the best thing you’ve ever had!
He took a breath.
—I refuse to lose to food!
“Plan failed…”
Stuffed to the brim, Wein collapsed on the bed in the room prepared for him.
“Couldn’t take your mind off the food, huh,” Ninym observed in exasperation.
She was right. Wein had devoured course after course. In the end, not a word of an alliance had been uttered.
“I’m no saint! The food was just so good!”
“I get it…but you ate twice as much as usual. How’s your stomach holding up?”
“It hurts…”
“To be expected.” Ninym let out a long sigh, rubbing his back. “It’ll get better with time. Just lie down… I have to admit I’m surprised. I know you were too focused on the meal, but I didn’t expect King Gruyere to bring up nothing.”
“Huh… You’re right…”
Gruyere had been the one who’d invited Wein on the pretense of a ceremony. It couldn’t be just to eat and chat. He must have had some political motivation in mind.
“Well, we’re planning to stay for three days. I guess he doesn’t feel the need to rush?” Ninym said.
“I don’t think it just slipped his mind… I’ll bring it up tomorrow. I mean, all that’s on our schedule is the simple ritual for the ceremony in the morning, right?”
“Yes. The opening ceremony is tomorrow, and the closing event is two days after that. I’m sure he’ll make time to discuss important matters with us. Try not to lose yourself in the food next time.”
He broke into a smile. “Relax. I’m not the type of man to make the same mistake twice.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve given yourself cramps from overeating.”
“…Um. I won’t make the same mistake twice… Starting now!”
Ninym sighed upon hearing his pathetic attempt at an excuse.
At this point in time, they still had hints of optimism.
Wein was certain Gruyere wanted to talk about political matters.
For good reason, too. Even from an objective standpoint, anyone would expect the countries to deepen their relationship.
Wein had attended the ceremony at the palace, trying to catch Gruyere afterward.
“King Gruyere, might I have a word?”
“Oh, if it isn’t the prince. Perfect timing. They just finished prepping some food.”
“Um… scrambled eggs mixed with minced vegetables. The two flavor profiles complement each other.”
“Exactly. Loved by our commoners. It’s also great with potatoes.”
“Interesting. I’ll be sure to try it once I return home. I would like to talk to you about—”
“Oh, sorry, I’ve got some business. Let’s link up later.”
“Huh? Um…”
Gruyere crawled into his palanquin and was whisked away.
…What? Wein didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to give up.
Having pulled himself together, he tried again at lunchtime.
“Ah, Prince Wein. Thank you for coming,” greeted Tolcheila, in Gruyere’s stead.
In front of him was the largest mountain of sweets that he’d ever seen.
“I’m obsessed with these. I began baking myself, because I can’t get enough. Try this. It’s called chocolate. Help yourself.”
“It melts in your mouth. What a strange sensation. And the aroma is very unique. I understand why you’ve taken a liking to it, Princess Tolcheila.”
“Right? I take seeds picked in the South, crush them into a fine powder, then mix that with milk and butter. I’m having our chefs research other possible uses.”
“I would love to bring some back for my younger sister… By the way, would you happen to know where King Gruyere might be?”
“My father, hm? Weight as heavy as a boulder, heart as light as a feather. Who can say what he’s up to? Well, I’m certain he’ll return soon enough. Here. Try this one.”
Wein stayed behind, chatting with her while he waited for Gruyere, but the king never showed up.
…What?
Even though Wein was eager to form an alliance, he just never seemed to get ahold of Gruyere.
Not that it stopped him from trying.
Huh—?!
Wein didn’t exchange another word with King Gruyere on that day.
“—That’s weird.”
Sitting in a chair in his room, Wein crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling.
“It gave me pause yesterday, but we still haven’t gotten a chance to meet today. Something has to be going on.”
Ninym responded with a troubled look. “Maybe he’s trying to avoid us?”
“……”
That seemed to be a reasonable conclusion. But why?
Their relationship with Delunio was coming apart at the seams. Soljest would win if they fought one-on-one. But if Natra joined hands with their enemy? Who knows what would happen?
That was why they had invited Wein to Soljest—to form ties with Natra. At least, Wein had imagined that was the case.
However, Gruyere was defying all expectations, avoiding any attempt at discussion. He just didn’t seem like someone who wanted to strengthen relations.
Maybe he has no plans to team up with Natra…? You would think pulling us away from Delunio would be high up on their priorities list…
He couldn’t get a read on the situation. Right now, it was the only conclusion he could draw.
Let’s say that’s the case. Why am I here? It can’t just be that he wanted to show off his food and shoot the breeze with me.
Maybe if they were good friends. However, they were officials with limited time on their schedules. It would be a waste to invite Wein to a ceremony and do nothing but eat. They hadn’t even had a single decent conversation.
Why would King Gruyere invite a prince with no interest in forming an alliance?
—Assassination.
That was at the forefront of his mind.
Natra was making strides, which meant Soljest had to be feeling the heat. They could be scheming to assassinate Wein to freeze their progress.
…But would he follow through with that? I mean, he is a Holy Elite, but his reputation will plummet if he murders the prince of a foreign nation.
Wein had killed Ordalasse, the king of Cavarin and another member of the Holy Elite. He had passed the blame onto one of the king’s generals and escaped censure, but he found it hard to believe Gruyere would be able to worm himself out of this one. Even if he made it look like an accident, the scandal would reach the far corners of the continent, giving him no escape.
Plus…he already had his chance to kill me. Why is he dallying…?
It hit Wein instantly.
To extend my stay…and buy time…! How am I disadvantaged by staying here…?
“By being away from Natra…!” Wein sprang up from his chair, startling Ninym.
“Wh-what’s wrong, Wein?”
“That pig! He’s scheming to do something to Natra in my absence… He might have even started to make his move…!”
At this point, it was just a guess, a theory, a hypothesis. However, he couldn’t afford to be careless now.
“Ninym! Prepare to head back! Tell everyone to be on standby for my order!”
“—Understood!” Ninym was ready to dash out of the room, quelling her momentary confusion.
That was when someone knocked on his door.
“Please pardon me. May I come in, Prince Wein?”
Ninym and Wein exchanged a look. He gave the tiniest of nods. She opened the door with a concealed knife, ready to strike at any moment.
“I apologize for stopping by at this hour, Prince Wein.”
Tolcheila stood outside the door, accompanied by an attendant.
“…Princess Tolcheila, what can I do for you this late in the evening? You haven’t come for a secret rendezvous, I imagine.”
She smiled. “Sounds fun, but I’m here for something else. Father has finally finished wrapping up his duties. He would like to know if he can have the pleasure of your company for a glass of wine. I’ll be there, too.” She looked proud.
“I see.” Wein’s mind raced.
Did I jump to the wrong conclusion…? But I should assume the worst. If Gruyere is up to something, I should—
He faced Tolcheila, offering a smile. “I have no reason to decline a direct invitation from King Gruyere. I would be delighted to join him.”
“Wonderful. Let us be on our way.” She triumphantly led them toward where her father was waiting.
He whispered to Ninym, observing Tolcheila from behind. “Tell the others that they might bar us from leaving or there might be war. They need to be prepared.”
Wein had to get in touch with Gruyere first. When the time came, he couldn’t let the king know he was suspicious of his motivations…at least, not until Wein could ask about the alliance and find out his true intentions.
If all worked out, great. But if Gruyere refused—
“We might have to take Tolcheila or Gruyere hostage and flee the city,” he whispered.
“I’ll make sure we’re ready.” Ninym nodded.
Wein followed after Tolcheila, fingers running over the weapon concealed beneath his clothes.
“There you are.”
Gruyere was waiting in the corner of a moonlit balcony.
“Forgive me for my actions this afternoon. I had to attend to other guests.”
“Don’t mention it. As a politician, I’m all too familiar with unexpected events cropping up.”
As Wein sat down across from Gruyere, Tolcheila took a seat next to her father. Wein thought they had positioned themselves at a distance from him.
But if necessary, I can take them on…
Gruyere was the pillar of this nation. And Tolcheila, his darling daughter.
Either one would make an adequate hostage. There was a good chance Gruyere was up to something, so he had to be ready to move at any time.
Gruyere suddenly said something out of the blue.
“We have empty seats. Hey, servant. Yes, you. Come and sit down.”
“Ah… Me?” Ninym answered from behind Wein.
She had already finished relaying Wein’s orders, trailing behind him like a shadow.
This threw her off her game.
“Um. I’m honored you have called upon me…but…”
She was being cagey for obvious reasons.
Although this was not an official setting, it was rare for the king of one nation to call upon the servant of another. As a Flahm, she knew standing before him would only cause problems.
No one would have guessed what he would say next.
“I’ve heard about the prince’s favorite Flahm. It’s fine. I don’t fuss over the petty things.”
All were floored, including his daughter. He’d asked Ninym to join them despite knowing she was a Flahm. It was unimaginable for the king of a Western nation to show such tolerance.
“…Well then, I shall join you.”
He left her no option to refuse. She perched in a seat next to Wein.
“Very good… What’s wrong, Prince? Are you surprised?”
“…Pardon my rudeness, but yes. This may be the first time in history that a follower of Levetia—and Holy Elite—has invited a Flahm to sit with them.”
“Heh. It seems I’ve initiated a historic moment unintentionally.” Gruyere jovially emptied his glass.
“The scriptures state the Flahm are the devil’s messenger. Don’t you think your request is sacrilegious?”
“The scriptures!” Gruyere cried, jiggling his stomach. “You must know, Prince Wein, that those scraps have been rewritten to suit the interests of the few.”
“We’ve experienced that firsthand in Natra.”
Wein was talking about the Circulous Law.
The new interpretation of the text came from conspiring jurists, nixing Natra from the pilgrimage. It had been backed by the Holy Elites during that time.
“The people want scripture. For what? For answers. They want to know the right way to live up to God’s expectations, guarantee peace in the afterlife, and you know the rest. They’re grateful for the model answers provided in the papers, which have been revised by generations of Holy Elites.”
“But without it, the people will fumble around in the darkness.”
“That’s fine,” Gruyere said declaratively. “We must think for ourselves and find our own answers as to whether we’re living up to divine expectations or on the right path. It isn’t an easy path, but there’s no shortcut when it comes to God.”
“Is that how you came to the conclusion that Flahm are humans, too?”
“Indeed. As a king, all my subjects are equal. What does it matter if their hair is white or their eyes red?” Gruyere beamed.
Next to him, Tolcheila chimed in, sounding curious. “Did you dye your hair?”
“Y-yes.”
“Looks good.”
The princess seemed to talk to Ninym like anyone else. Like father, like daughter.
“I understand your point, King Gruyere.” Wein was choosing his words carefully. “But would God approve of your running with this interpretation?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” he countered. “To rest on God’s knee or to burn in the flames of hell. If I can only experience one, I’d say they’re both valuable experiences. God is the only one who can deliver this final judgment. Not scripture. Not sermons.”
“……”
He’s tough, Wein honestly thought, overcome with admiration.
King Gruyere wasn’t even from the East. He was the king of a Western nation and a Holy Elite at that. For him to hold this opinion was considered peculiar, to say the least.
The main takeaway wasn’t his morality or ethics, but the conviction behind his words and actions. Wein knew the king’s heart would not break even on the verge of death.
There was another thing that he noticed in Gruyere.
The pig has no openings…!
He was twice as fat as the average person. A literal mass of blubber. He didn’t have any militancy in him…or he hadn’t had it…until just a while ago.
Now there was something different about him. Sitting in his custom chair, he was like a man-eating bear preparing for battle. His eyes continued to seize Wein and Ninym, threatening to swing his arm down on them if they moved too quickly.
Think about it. We’ve got to be faster than him if we’re lighter…
However, Wein couldn’t make his move. There was instinct holding him back, even though logic was trying to argue otherwise. King Gruyere was a real menace.
Extending an invitation to Ninym hadn’t been on an inebriated whim. It was a calculated move to slow her movements by keeping her seated and within range. Wein and Ninym had planned to take either Gruyere or Tolcheila as a live hostage, but it seemed the king had other plans.
Move, and I’ll kill you or murder your servant, he seemed to imply.
“…King Gruyere, I admire your personhood and individuality. There is no country I would rather join hands with.”
Under the tense air, Wein challenged Gruyere with a glare.
“It seems we’re experiencing problems in Natra. I know the ceremony is only halfway finished, but I’m afraid we must return home immediately. Before that, I wish to form friendly relations between Natra and Soljest to weather through these tumultuous times. What do you say?”
Wein was certain the king would reject the offer.
Gruyere had caught him in a trap. Based on the king’s attitude, he must have known Wein had unraveled his plan. He might have even had the palace surrounded by armed soldiers.
Our only exit strategy is to strike first.
He exchanged a look with Ninym and judged his timing. As the pressure mounted, Gruyere got ready to speak, taking his time.
“Sounds good. I accept.”
“…Excuse me?” Wein blinked.
Ninym followed suit.
The king smiled at Wein. “What’s wrong, Prince? Did I catch you off guard?”
“Um… You’re going to accept?”
“My word is my bond. Of course, we’ll need to iron out the details. We can’t make it official right away, so I hope you’re fine with a verbal agreement. But an alliance sounds splendid. Right, Tolcheila?”
“Agreed. Very auspicious.”
What—?!
This threw Wein off his game.
Are you seriously going to say yes?! And here I was, certain we were heading for war! Not that I’m complaining!
“What’s wrong, Prince? Your expressions are looking…funny.”
“I-it’s nothing. I’m so happy, I do not know what to do with myself.”
“Savor the moment… Oh, I guess you have to hurry back to your homeland, right?”
“Y-yes, well…”
That had been his excuse to strong-arm Gruyere into giving an answer, but he couldn’t just go back on his word: “Actually, I’m thinking of staying, now that we’ve formed an alliance. Your food is delicious, by the way.” Yeah. No chance.
“In that case, I won’t delay you any longer. We can discuss the details of the alliance by communicating through our subordinates. Tolcheila, see that the prince is sent off.”
“Understood.” She stood up.
Gruyere was essentially setting her up to be their hostage. That had to be part of his plan. Maybe it was a sign of his cooperation?
In any case, they had accomplished what they set out to do. Now everything would fall into place…if they could get home safely.
“I’m grateful for your hospitality, King Gruyere. I’ll be sure to repay you one day.”
“I’ll expect a thank-you gift that will astound me. Farewell, Crown Prince.”
Guided by Tolcheila, Wein bowed, leaving the balcony with Ninym in tow.
Gruyere was now all alone.
“I’m interested to see how this performance turns out,” he murmured before looking toward the corner of the balcony.
That figure hadn’t been there moments before.
“—Don’t you agree, Sir Sirgis?”
“Yes, King Gruyere.”
Sirgis. The prime minister of Delunio offered a superficial smile and nodded.
As instructed, their entourage had prepared to return home. Ninym conducted a final check as Wein bowed to Tolcheila.
“Thank you for coming to bid us farewell, Princess Tolcheila. I’m terribly sorry we’re leaving so suddenly. I wish we could have had more time together.”
“Worry not. Our time might have been brief, but I got a good idea of who you are.”
“Yeah? And what would that be?”
“Well…” Tolcheila thought for a moment. “I would say you are an intelligent, courageous, and fascinating liar.”
“A liar, huh? And here I thought my double tongue had lost some function by savoring your food.”
“Hee-hee. You’re in interesting one. Won’t you take me as your wife? In a few years, I’m sure you won’t be able to take your eyes off my body.”
“…I shall take your offer home with me and consider it.”
“What? Do you fancy a certain lass? Well, let’s discuss it when you visit the next time.”
“I’m not sure when there will be a ‘next time.’”
They were both the royalty of other nations, after all. Their opportunities to meet were few and far between.
Tolcheila lowered her voice so no one else could hear. “Sooner than you think.”
“What was that?”
“Ah, nothing. I was talking to myself.” She smiled. “Farewell, Prince Wein. I pray for your safe journey.”
“Thank you. Until next time, Princess Tolcheila.”
Wein climbed into the carriage, and they left the moonlit palace. They remained cautious of assassins while on the road, but the party returned to Natra without incident.
However, respite lasted only a moment. Wein received two pieces of unexpected news.
First, Delunio and Marden were engaging in combat at the border.
Second, in light of these incidents, Soljest had declared war on Natra as part of their treaty with Delunio.
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