Epilogue
“—All right.”
Wein stood in front of the door to a room, one fit for a noble.
One person was occupying it—their prisoner, Gruyere.
Though security was tight, he had been provided his basic necessities. After all, he was the king of a nation, so it wasn’t as if they could toss him in the dungeon.
“Pardon me, King Gruyere.”
When he stepped into the room, Wein was greeted by a single man.
“…Hmm?”
The prince scrunched up his face in confusion—and it wasn’t because the man was voraciously devouring an array of food before him.
“…U-um, you’re King Gruyere…right?”
“Hm? Oh, it’s you. Long time no see.”
He must have finally noticed Wein’s presence. The man lifted his head, breaking into a composed smile. He sounded like Gruyere, but Wein wasn’t completely sold. After all, there was no sign of his signature corpulence. Instead, he had the strapping physique of a hearty man.
“Um, you look like a whole new person…”
“Oh. Yeah, I’m skin and bones.” Gruyere looked down at his own body.
His “gaunt” limbs and torso were sturdy. Even his face seemed more masculine.
“Because of my body type, I get reverted back to this state when I get injured or engage in strenuous activity. I find it irritating.”
“……”
Hadn’t there been a wound on his shoulder? Shouldn’t there have been a gash on his arm? Gruyere was eating as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe fat had miraculous healing properties.
“How can I help you? Have you decided the date of my execution?” he asked while gnawing on a bone. “Are you going to decapitate or hang me or put me on the breaking wheel? You’ll need some horsepower for the last one. Otherwise, I might come out in one piece.”
“Oh, okay, I guess we can nix the last option then…Wait, I mean, we have no plans to take your head.”
“Oh?” He seemed surprised. “If you get rid of me, Soljest will be yours. My son back home is no fool, but he is no match for you. Is Natra going to pass up an opportunity to rise up in power?”
“Nonsense. We had our reasons for crossing swords, but I’ve been hoping to forge a friendly relationship with you, King Gruyere, since the very beginning.”
“Hmm…” Gruyere thought this over for a moment before grinning. “I see. You’re afraid of causing trouble with Levetia.”
“……”
Obviously, Wein thought.
Gruyere was one of the Holy Elite, the leaders of Levetia. If he was executed, they could expect backlash at the very least. In the worse-case scenario, it would spark all-out war. Wein wanted to avoid that if possible.
If we’d killed him with our surprise attack, we might have had a leg up in the grand scheme of things, but things wouldn’t look pretty for us if we murdered him after a grueling war.
That had been why Wein had given orders to capture Gruyere alive if possible. Of course, anything could happen on the battlefield, which was why he had prepared himself for the worst.
“What would Delunio think if there’s no execution?”
King Gruyere was their sworn enemy. Delunio had broken their alliance with Soljest to side with Natra. If Gruyere wasn’t executed and Soljest remained intact, Delunio would have to sleep with one eye open, anticipating revenge.
“They’d think nothing of it. Delunio agreed the three nations should meet to discuss the future, even without your execution.”
“That’s surprising. I imagined Sirgis would have something to say about it.”
“He was overthrown,” Wein casually admitted.
The king blinked back at him.
“He had to give up his political career after crossing the line. After all, he acted in his personal interests to form an alliance with Soljest and break ties to join us.”
“…I see.” Gruyere snorted. “Two nations, two goals: Natra wishes to remain neutral to Levetia, and Soljest wishes for me to live. We’ve formed an involuntary team to drag Sirgis from his post.”
Wein smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, the new prime minister appears to be open to reconciling. He’s advocating an alliance between the three nations. I expected this to happen, since new leaders tend to reject the ideas of their predecessors to form their own political platform.”
He took out some documents, handing them to Gruyere.
“Sign this. Then we can prepare someone from Soljest to come get you. I imagine you’re sick of living here. Feel free to return home.”
Gruyere took the pen from Wein. He twirled it with his fingers—then snapped it in two.
“I think I’ll die here after all.”
“What?” The prince’s eyes almost bugged out.
“I live as I please. I don’t want my life to be dictated by the whim of others.”
“P-please! Wait! That means…”
“It means Levetia might wage war. Ha-ha-ha! Oh boy! You have it in for you! And it won’t affect me, ’cause I’ll be six feet under!”
“Y-you little…!”
Gruyere was trying to land the final blow by memorializing his death as martyrdom.
He plays dirty, Wein thought.
“If you want me to return to my kingdom in one piece, I have a few conditions.”
“…Which are?” Wein asked, feeling sick to his stomach.
Gruyere brought his face close to Wein’s.
“Young prince, what is the true form of the beast you carry inside you?”
“…What beast?”
“Everyone has one. Call it ‘desire’ if you like. Yours is enormous, but I can’t put my finger on it, which makes me very curious.”
Gruyere went on. “Let it out. Say it. Show me the beast inside you. What is it after? Then I’ll cooperate with your little meeting between the three nations.”
“…”
Silence hung over them as they locked eyes.
It wasn’t a display of animosity or malice. They were sizing each other up.
At long last, Wein started to give in. He let out a little sigh and told the king without hesitation.
“ .”
His voice was strained, but Gruyere hung on to every word.
“…Is it true, Prince?”
Sweat trickled down Gruyere’s cheek. He lay waste to every threat on the battlefield, but this one statement made him crawl with apprehension.
“Believe me or not. It’s up to you. I will say one thing: If you die here, you will never know the truth.”
That threw the king off guard. He was quick to recover, hooting with laughter.
“Ha-ha-ha-ha! You’ve got me in checkmate! Very well! I admit defeat! I can’t rot away here, now that I’ve heard about your goals!”
Gruyere flashed him a savage look. “I’ll be waiting, Prince…Wein Salema Arbalest! Entertain me by wreaking havoc on the continent and coming out on the other side!”
“I don’t know if I can provide much entertainment, but I think your people will be overjoyed that you aren’t going to kill yourself. I certainly am. Here’s another pen.”
“Yes!” Gruyere took the new one, ready to sign the documents. “…Wait. What’s with this ransom amount?”
“Tch. Didn’t think you’d notice,” Wein mumbled.
The king scanned over the documents again. They listed outrageous demands, including a ridiculous ransom fee and war reparations and the condition to hand over Soljest’s harbor.
“You’re ripping me off, Prince. Objectively speaking.”
“What are you talking about? Asking for any less would be disrespectful to your name.”
“Oh please. We’re friends, right?”
“Which is why we need to bury any lingering resentment. With cash.”
“No—”
Until his people came to pick him up, Wein and Gruyere hemmed and hawed over the price.
“…Phew. That wraps up all loose ends concerning the war.”
Zenovia put down her pen and sighed, having wrestled through the paperwork on her desk.
“I’m exhausted…”
She collapsed onto the desk.
Jiva collected the papers. “There was a point where I worried things would go south, but I’m happy they all worked out.”
“Thanks to the vassals.”
Zenovia had almost paid with her life for her oversight, which gave an advantage to Delunio. After further negotiations and the successful capture of Gruyere, they managed to settle things and escape censure. It offered the vassals some respite.
She continued. “Besides, we were able to buy back the land. Our losses were far less than expected.”
Marden had ceded part of their territory to the other side, though it didn’t take long for Delunio to propose selling it back for a reasonable price.
It was all the doing of their new prime minister. The loaned land had never had many natural resources. Even though it was on the pilgrimage route, it had only thrived under the rule of Natra, which allowed its residents to trade with the Empire. In other words, Delunio didn’t have reason to stay fixated on it.
Besides, Delunio had to repair their relationship with Natra and Soljest as soon as possible. After all, they’d schemed to trick Wein’s kingdom before betraying their coconspirators. By making enemies of two countries, their demise would be just around the corner if they did nothing.
To pacify Natra, they relinquished the land for an affordable price. They must have proposed something similar to Soljest, too.
“Prince Wein must have foreseen all of this.”
Delunio should have been able to steal land from Natra with no effort, and yet they had come out of the battle empty-handed. Zenovia reflected on the dangers of diplomacy and Wein’s natural aptitude for it.
But…I don’t just want to accept I’m no match for him.
To Zenovia, Wein was a hero. This incident hadn’t changed that. It only cemented the fact that they were worlds apart.
However, watching Wein’s profile at the negotiation table, Zenovia realized something.
She wanted to catch up to him. She wanted to be recognized by him. She wanted her hero to accept her into his inner circle.
“By the way, Lady Zenovia, I’ve received some more marriage proposals for you. Your suitors must be taking this opportunity after hearing that your union with Prince Wein has fallen through.”
“Refuse them all.”
“Understood…Wait. Ah, I mean, that will be no issue, but…”
He never expected her to turn them down so quickly. Jiva observed her.
“…Lady Zenovia, did something about you change?”
Maybe it was the air about her. Or the way she carried herself. There was something about her, as if she had grown a spine.
“I don’t think I’ve changed…” Zenovia smiled. “But I think I understand what I need to do.”
The road ahead would be a tough one, but it was worth the effort.
If things went well… If he deemed her worthy… If that time ever came, she herself might propose to become his wife.
Zenovia ballooned with enthusiasm.
“—So.”
Wein looked decidedly gloomy in his office. “I’ll get straight to the point: Is our budget coming out net positive?”
“We’re on thin ice.”
“GAAAAAAH!” Wein let out a bloodcurdling shriek when Ninym handed down her verdict.
“The reparations covered the cost of war. Our partial rights to the harbor in Soljest are still an unknown variable. We didn’t blow our budget out of the water by paying under the table to unseat Sirgis or buy back the land. I guess our biggest issue is King Gruyere. The followers of Levetia are keeping us at arm’s length, which means fewer pilgrims are stopping in Marden.”
These followers were the main source of their good fortune. By doing business with the pilgrims, it made others interested in Marden, creating a positive feedback loop and stimulating the economy. A decrease in their activity shared a direct correlation with an economic recession.
“That has slowed the boom in Marden. At least it’s buying us time to deal with the economic gap between us.”
“Except that means nothing if we’re losing business!”
“Get over it. We can only wait for our reputation to recover with time.”
“NOOOOO!” He clutched his head.
Ninym looked at him from the corner of her eye. “There is one more thing. We did gain something. Depending on your value system, you might say this is a net positive.”
“Could it be…?”
Someone barreled through the doors.
“Are you done with your work, Prince Wein?!”
Before them was the princess of Soljest, Tolcheila.
“You must realize doors can be opened with a gentle push, Princess Tolcheila.”
“Oh, but we have a custom of making an entrance. Guess I’m not accustomed to your culture. Forgive me.”
She certainly didn’t appear sorry as she flashed them a smile.
Why was Tolcheila here in Natra?
The answer was simple. She was an “exchange student”—basically, their hostage.
“It seems Tolcheila has taken a liking to you. I believe I will have her stay with you for a while as a hostage until the treaty is settled,” Gruyere had proposed.
The story didn’t end there.
“No hostage necessary. I trust you, King Gruyere.”
“No need to hold back. Take her.”
“…You’re forcing her on me.”
“…Our personalities are basically the same. I think it’ll be hard to find her a husband when she’s of age. But would you look at that! You’re royalty, too! And a bachelor. I mean, I’ll let Tolcheila’s wiles guide you, of course.”
“Please let me refuse your offer.”
“Ha-ha-ha. I feel like dying for some reason. In fact, I’m going to slit my throat right now.”
“Fine! I understand…!”
That was the gist of their conversation.
“And your answer to my question?” Tolcheila pressed.
Wein seemed reluctant. “Well, yes, I’m finished, but…”
“Would you like to enjoy a cup of tea outside? I just finished baking. I was very surprised by your customs. Your staff were shell-shocked to see a princess step into a kitchen!”
Tolcheila was a pushy one. It had been like this every day since she arrived. Wein felt like a small animal had grown attached to him. He didn’t mind, but…
“Wein, may I come…in?!” someone yelped.
His sister, Falanya, froze as soon as she stepped in the room.
“Princess Tolcheila, again…?!”
“Oh, Princess Falanya, what a coincidence. We’re just about to have a tea party. Could you save any business with him for later?”
“What, W-Wein?! You said you would spend time with me…!”
“Uh, well, that’s…”
Though they were the same age, Falanya and Tolcheila couldn’t seem to get along. They never missed a chance to pick a fight, especially his little sister.
Wein couldn’t exactly disrespect his guest of honor. But it pained him to see his sister hurt. He looked at Ninym to save him from the situation…
You brought this on yourself. Deal with it.
Her face was blank as she stuck her nose in the air.
…Sigh.
Caught between the two girls, Wein immersed himself in his thoughts.
Please let me sell off this stupid kingdom and skip town forever!
His internal shriek rang in his ears for a long time, never reaching anyone’s ears.
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