Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 13 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 — Meeting in Person

Capua’s prince consort, Zenjirou Bilbo Capua, was currently in the country of Uppasala, in the capital city of the same name.

Naturally, he was also with Freya and various other passengers from the Glasir’s Leaf. The ship itself, though, was still in Logfort. Therefore calling them passengers of the Glasir’s Leaf was perhaps somewhat disingenuous.

They had transferred to another ship in Logfort before progressing down the waterway into Lake Mater. They had then headed northwest through the lake and safely reached Uppasala’s capital.

It went without saying, but the lake had no waves in comparison to the open sea. However, the new ship they were on was also much smaller. Being a sailing vessel inevitably meant that it changed direction somewhat with the wind, pitching each time it did.

Fortunately, Zenjirou had no problem, but his subordinates, who were less comfortable, periodically offered the lake fish some particularly acidic nutrition.

Once they had docked in the capital, they switched to a carriage and headed for the palace, Ijomiheim. They had already sent word to the palace, so everything went extremely smoothly.

Zenjirou’s group—or perhaps it would be more suitable to call it Freya’s—safely arrived at the palace.

“Princess Freya,” Zenjirou said. He had stepped from the carriage first and offered her his hand as manners dictated.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied, taking it.

“Shall we go?” he asked after a pause.

“Yes, let’s,” she agreed.

The two of them mustered their motivation and headed for the audience chamber.

Waiting for them was the current king of Uppasala, King Gustav V. This was Freya’s father. Of course, he was not the only one awaiting them. There would be her mother—the Queen Consort—along with her brothers—various princes—and other influential nobles and famed warriors.

A tall female warrior—Skaji—approached Zenjirou as he walked and spoke quietly.

“Your Majesty, this may be impertinent, but please allow me to state this again. The palace is still home to much influence from warriors. Their thoughts, values, and opinions reign within it. Firmness triumphs over meekness, and insistence triumphs over compromise. Bear that in mind. Mutual understanding with them is not out of reach, even after clashing.”

“Right. Thank you for the advice,” he replied briefly.

Zenjirou had used calm periods of the voyage to learn as much about the customs and values of the country as he could from both Freya and Skaji. He had also been told the names, ages, and general appearances of the most important figures—starting with royalty, of course—but wasn’t entirely confident on that front. He had, naturally, made sure to memorize all of the royals, though.

He frankly had myriad feelings of unease, but he couldn’t turn back now. He let out a shallow breath, as if to exhale all the timidity from himself before firmly stepping onto the carpet as he kept walking.

The official audience was almost an anticlimax, passing without any incident. Zenjirou didn’t have the leading role in the meeting, though. It was meant to pay homage to the heroes of the Glasir’s Leaf who had successfully arranged an intercontinental trade deal, so Freya took center stage.

After a long period of being ignored while others extolled their people’s deeds and courage, Zenjirou and his group were swiftly recognized as “guests from the Southern Continent.”

Thereafter, they were shown to a room. The fact that Natalio and the others weren’t asked to disarm even here in the royal palace meant he could assume they were being—at least publicly—treated as royalty and the guards that such a royal would have. Or else a noble playing the same role.

“If you have any requests then we are at your disposal,” said the aging man who had guided them here. Once he and the maids had left, the only people in the room were those he knew from the Southern Continent.

They had been wearing formal outfits for the audience but now changed into more comfortable clothes in a predetermined order.

Quickly shucking the third uniform for a more pleasant outfit, Zenjirou used his left hand to massage his right shoulder.

“The atmosphere in there was not as bad as I’d expected,” he said, a little louder than he would if talking to himself.

Ines nodded in response—having assisted him in changing.

“It was. The true test is yet to come, although we cannot yet tell when that true test will be,” she said, warning him against relaxing too soon.

“Right, I know. Still, we’re on our own for now.”

“We can trust in Princess Freya’s skill,” Ines replied.

“Right,” Zenjirou nodded, almost as if trying to convince himself.

Speaking of Freya, she had changed from her captain’s garb into a formal dress a princess would wear and answered her father’s summons. She was currently presenting what she had risked her life for.

She had used her own hair, which she had cut short when taking on the captaincy, to give herself a more princess-like appearance, with her hair now reaching down to her mid-back. The very fact that she had done so showed that she was willing to do absolutely everything she could to improve her father’s mood and have her request accepted.

However, having heard everything she had to say, the king’s response was certainly not what she wanted to hear.

“I see,” the man said eventually. “I have a good idea of the situation now. Rather than trading with the northern countries on the Southern Continent, you went to Capua. True, if they are as strong as you say, then us taking the initiative to establish trade will bring us much benefit. An exchange of royal blood or two would certainly be on the table.”

Her father’s logical words were all but agreeing with her suggestion. However, the sour expression on his face put paid to the wholehearted positivity in what he was saying.

Freya braced herself and the king continued with exactly what she was expecting.

“There is a matter of honor, though. Foolish though it may sound, honor can at times be more important to a country than simple profit. You are our first princess, Freya. A king would be one thing, but this man is nothing more than the queen’s spouse, even if he is a royal. Sending you to be his concubine will see us looked down upon by our peers.”

It was a rebuttal that Freya had been expecting. The various countries of the Northern Continent generally saw the Southern Continent as lesser. Zenjirou was the prince consort—not even the king—of one of those countries they saw as lesser, and she would not even be his legal wife, but a concubine.

With all those factors in place, they could not ignore the loss to their prestige, no matter how much benefit it brought them.

Still, with that in mind, Freya straightened and offered a rebuttal of her own. “I understand your concerns. However, I believe it will be a small matter as things stand currently. We will have a valid trade route with the Southern Continent. I believe that ill repute would be acceptable in this case.”

“Intercontinental trade is accelerating as ships advance. We indeed cannot afford to miss the boat, so to speak. I do not dispute that a country of Capua’s stature, which our peers have yet to get their claws into, is a particularly pleasant prospect. Assuming that is enough to send you to His Majesty as a concubine is too hasty, though.”

“The war Capua was part of has greatly curtailed their number of royals. The only two males are His Majesty and the first prince, Prince Carlos. His Highness is not even two years old yet, so with speed being of the essence, he is out of the question. There is no other suitable candidate.”

“Now, Freya, do not play the fool. I am well aware that the only candidate they have is His Majesty Zenjirou. It is not necessary for you to be his partner. If you were to be queen consort it would be a different matter, but a prince consort’s concubine? It need not be you. A girl from any of the high nobility who is related to us would be enough, would it not?”

Freya made a slight noise as she was lost for words. She had tried to combat his reluctance towards a political marriage with the Southern Continent by stressing the current situation and how it was progressing, but he had shown approval for marriage itself. Just not between Zenjirou and Freya.

What made it worse was that if Aura heard the proposal, she would likely be entirely on board. Freya had just started to see a life of freedom and adventure on ships—even after marriage—as a realistic possibility, and she didn’t want to surrender it here.

She thought frantically and came up with a counterargument. “I-It would not be. While it is still unofficial, I have gained Her Majesty Queen Aura’s approval for my proposal. The agreement was for me to become a concubine, not just someone from Uppasala.”

“That was also a rash decision...” he said, glaring heavily at her.

Pitting herself against his insight, she told him the conditions she and Aura had established for the marriage. If she was to marry, she would be granted a ducal rank and a duchy to go with it, with the tacit understanding that said duchy would be a coastal area. She would then be able to use the port in that duchy as an exclusive trade port with Uppasala.

There was also a plan for a shipyard capable of building large ships for intercontinental trade. Half of the first eight ships would be granted to Uppasala, while the costs for them all would be paid by Capua.

The harshness gradually faded from his face as he heard the conditions, replaced by a look of intrigue.

“Hmm...not bad.”

All of the conditions Freya had spoken of were of benefit to Uppasala. There was the hidden facet that Capua didn’t have the techniques to build such ships, so the engineers would need to be provided by Uppasala. Inevitably, the advanced technology would pass from Uppasala to Capua. In addition to the skills to build the ships, they would also gain knowledge of how to navigate them between the continents, and also the better blacksmithing of the Northern Continent. There were therefore still advantages for Capua as well.

Essentially, Capua would provide the money and location, while Uppasala would provide the expertise and personnel. Indeed, such a plan could not be spearheaded by a noble girl with no place in the line of succession. No country would give such a girl a ducal title and territory.

Looking at things neutrally, Capua was offering enough that there would be no position for them if they could not marry someone into the royal family.

“Hmm, what to do?” the king mused, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

While he had to scold his daughter for his recklessness, there was a charm to the suggestion she had brought with her. Uppasala was not a particularly affluent nation. It had historically been a warlike country, a country of pirates. Much of the land was covered in ice, so their agriculture lagged behind, supplemented by rearing goats and reindeer—both animals that could survive on relatively little. They had a thriving fishing industry but not a position that allowed them to take the lead in trade by land or sea.

Initially, they would not have even counted as a middling country. They had pulled themselves to such a position with their warrior spirit, shipbuilding, and blacksmithing.

With the way things are developing now, though, that is nothing but the distant past, Gustav thought to himself.

Manufacturing was becoming more efficient and trending towards mass production. Trade was advancing as the size of ships increased. Economic blocs inevitably increased in turn, giving rise to countries on levels never before seen and hegemonic states. Relying solely on their ethnic temperament and individual skill would make it hard to keep up.

After thinking for a while, his conclusion was to defer matters.

“First, I need to know what kind of person His Majesty is.”

“You mean?!”

Gustav quickly rained on Freya’s parade as she stepped forward in joy.

“I will have a private audience with him for that purpose. You will also be present, but you are not to interject. I will use that meeting to evaluate whether he is a suitable person to give you to.”

A meeting to “determine what kind of person someone is” would—with Uppasala’s militaristic nature—be somewhat akin to a stress interview. Freya understood that, but she also understood that there was no avoiding it.

“Of course, other than determining the nature of His Majesty, I will also investigate whether Capua is a trustworthy partner in trade and treaty. We will not confuse the two matters.”

“I understand,” she answered after a moment, offering Zenjirou a silent apology.

Capua’s queen was truly seeking the Northern Continent’s technology, in addition to a trade treaty. Uppasala’s king was certainly prepared to accept that. Adding in the first princess of his nation trying to become a prince consort’s concubine made things more complicated. It could be said that to fulfill Freya’s selfishness, Zenjirou would have to undergo more hardship than he otherwise would.

“I shall inform His Majesty of that,” she added eventually.

I shall have to personally make it up to him in some way, she thought.

“I shall take my leave, then,” she said, rising from her seat.

Gustav glared even more strongly than he had thus far and made a wide motion, stopping her.

“Wait. We are not yet done. Well, we are done with that topic, true. Still, there are several other things I need to ask you. Firstly, with regard to the dispute between the commonwealth and the Knights. I would have you explain in detail why there are rumors that we are their allies in this.”

“Of course...”

She nodded slightly and let herself sit back into the chair again.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

The next day, Zenjirou and his entourage were summoned to a room deep within the palace. Freya had told him yesterday what to expect from the meeting between him, the king, and her.

Doing his best to hide his nerves, he sat. There was a long table in the room. Zenjirou was sitting on one of the shorter sides and Gustav was opposite him. To Zenjirou’s left on the longer side were Freya and other people from the Glasir’s Leaf. On the right were other members of the Uppasalan royal family, highly ranked nobles, and named warriors. Zenjirou’s subordinates were standing behind him.

The white marble table was fairly large, and its size meant that it seated a good number of people, but Zenjirou was actually grateful for that. Having some distance between him and the king opposite him was more important to him than how many people were in attendance.

Once the initial formalities were out of the way, Gustav spoke. “So, Your Majesty, I have heard you have a request to make?”

With that immediate opening, Zenjirou was up. He swallowed once to make absolutely sure his voice wouldn’t crack, then spoke measuredly.

“I do. To cut straight to the point, the Kingdom of Capua is prepared to accept the offer of direct trade that the Kingdom of Uppasala has offered.”

The nobles to his right stirred at that, clearly somewhat interested.

Very aware of the sweat that seemed to pool in his palms, Zenjirou immediately focused on parsing the reaction of the king opposite him.

Gustav gave no words of either affirmation or refutation. He had wanted some form of commitment, but if he let the matter hang for any longer, anyone with some insight would be able to infer that as well.

With it being worded as “the offer of direct trade that the Kingdom of Uppasala has offered,” it would mean that it was not a trade both sides desired. He needed to satisfy himself with the fact that none of the royals gainsaid him, giving at least an air of agreement.

He continued before anyone else could speak. “To ensure the success of such a trade deal, and to act as a symbol of our countries’ friendship, I wish to take Princess Freya Uppasala as my spouse.”

The reactions from the royals were varied. One of them outright yelled that he was mocking them. Another simply gave an ambiguous statement that still showed their disagreement. Yet another called it an “unfunny joke,” while not hiding the scorn from their expression.

The reactions were much as he had expected. There was a fundamental trend among those of the Northern Continent towards seeing their southern neighbors as inferior. Additionally, Zenjirou’s position as Queen Aura’s spouse had been made clear here. Zenjirou was effectively saying, “Give me Princess Freya as a second wife—a concubine.”

Their first princess would be a concubine of another nation’s prince consort. Even if both countries were on equal footing, there would be a visceral reaction to it.

That made the apparently happy smile of a silver-haired boy, once he had gotten over his surprise, all the stranger. The boy also had icy-blue eyes and was wearing blue clothing, marking him as Uppasalan royalty.

Zenjirou had gotten Freya to tell him the names and appearances of the adult royals and general leadership. He was only meeting the majority of them now, so he couldn’t tell who was who.

This one boy, though, he could recognize at a glance. He was the second prince of the country, Yngvi, Freya’s twin brother.

He was shockingly similar in appearance to Freya, taller than Zenjirou, with features that were relatively mature, so there was no mistaking it. They were so similar looking that you might even mistake one for another at a glance.

The deepening of his smile as Zenjirou met his eyes could not be his imagination. He was the one member of the royal family who had actively supported Freya’s attempts to captain the Glasir’s Leaf, and it seemed like he would support her here as well.

While Zenjirou was considering that, the man at the prince’s side stood with a clatter. “Out of the question! Are you mocking us?!”

He seemed to be in his early twenties, with blond hair and clear green eyes. He was a large man. Given his appearance, position, and blue clothing marking him as a royal, Zenjirou could remember his name. This was the first prince of the kingdom, Eric. The lack of any similarity in looks or hair color to Freya or Yngvi was due to them having different mothers.

The prince was clearly mocking him. While he was aware of that, Zenjirou pointedly ignored him, not letting his gaze drift in that direction as he continued speaking to the king.

“What are your thoughts, Your Majesty? Naturally, I understand that this is not such a simple matter as to ask for a decision here and now. I would appreciate your consideration of it, though.”

“How dare you?!” Eric roared at Zenjirou, blatantly ignoring him.

Zenjirou intentionally kept calm, still not looking in that direction. Whether it was intentional or not, Eric was the one breaking etiquette here.

Zenjirou had introduced himself during the audience yesterday, but the only person here who had responded in kind was the king. That meant that Eric was currently not even offering the courtesy of an introduction before interrupting a conversation with a foreign royal.

What was more, while the position of prince consort was a somewhat peculiar one, it was at the very least equal—or even superior, depending on how you looked at it—to the position of first prince. The prince was thereby pushing himself into a conversation with his king and a person of similar stature.

Ignoring him and pretending he couldn’t hear his yells was the mildest response Zenjirou could take here. If he acted as if he could hear Eric, then he would first have to scold the man and demand he introduce himself.

From what he had heard before, Prince Eric loved his younger sister without question. He could therefore understand the emotional reaction to him demanding her hand in marriage. Both psychologically and more pragmatically in wanting the negotiations to go well, Zenjirou wanted to avoid censuring the other man, so he kept ignoring him and spoke to Gustav.

“I am aware that this is a significantly difficult matter. Accepting this request would mean Princess Freya leaving her homeland. I would also like to hear others’ opinions on this as well.”

Towards the end of his statement, he let his eyes dart to the side. The king picked up on the signal and heaved a large, pointed sigh.

“I appreciate your consideration, Your Majesty. I am aware that someone has been speaking rather loudly to themselves for a while. Any of you with opinions on His Majesty’s suggestion, raise your hand. Once you officially introduce yourself, you may express them.”

He glared harshly at his son, who was still standing. Eric was not foolish enough to miss that his father was saying that he wouldn’t accept his words as official remarks unless he followed procedure. Reluctantly, he sat back down.

“Your Majesty,” he said, “I wish to speak.”

“You may.”

Eric stood again, even more intimidation in his green eyes now as he glared at Zenjirou. “We have not met before, Your Majesty. I am the first prince of Uppasala, Eric. Though our mothers are different, Freya is my sister. Therefore, I cannot overlook your statement.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I have heard much about you. While I may be older than you, I hope one day for you to call me brother-in-law, so I hope we can be on good terms.”

“I object completely. I wish for my sister’s happiness, so I am entirely against her marrying you.”

As his tone got rougher, Zenjirou objected to the statement. “I have no doubt whatsoever that you do wish for her happiness. However, considering your own words, I find myself doubtful that you truly understand that happiness.”

There was a moment’s pause.

“That is quite the claim. It sounds like you wish to imply that, after only a year, you understand Freya better than I, her brother who has grown up alongside her.”

“I am glad my meaning is clear,” Zenjirou said plainly, remembering Skaji’s warnings to not be afraid of conflict. He could say without a doubt that Eric didn’t understand her happiness. That was due to Freya having rather abnormal values for a noblewoman, so it wasn’t entirely the prince’s fault. Still, one look at her face made it clear that Zenjirou’s request was not “ignoring her wishes.”

Knowing that and still saying it was out of the question was effectively saying that Freya didn’t know what would make her happy and that he would make that decision for her. Having at least some form of feelings for her meant that Zenjirou was opposed to that.

The provocative words prompted a smile from the prince. It lacked any sense of friendliness, however. “Oh? Quite the claim once more. In that case, I shall not refrain and speak plainly as well. I see absolutely no warrior’s soul in you. Your looks, your stance, your words, and actions—each of them shows me nothing but a coward. I cannot believe such a person would be able to protect Freya.”

Not being a warrior, but a coward, would be the greatest insult one could level against an Uppasalan man. Zenjirou, though, privately agreed with him and wasn’t at all offended. Indeed, he let a grin of his own make its way to his lips.

“My apologies, Prince Eric. It would appear we are talking at cross purposes. I am here asking to marry Princess Freya. Your sister appears to be a completely different person, so you need not worry.”

Despite intentionally saying things snidely, the meaning seemed not to have gotten through to the prince. Instead of flying into a rage, he looked awkwardly confused. Explaining your own mockery was roughly as embarrassing as needing to explain your own joke. He had to do so, however, or things wouldn’t go anywhere.

“Pardon me. I had thought we were discussing Princess Freya’s happiness. So when you brought up a man who could protect her, which is entirely unrelated, I was somewhat taken aback. I doubt you would believe something so patently incorrect as Princess Freya—after shaking off her ties to the country to captain a voyage for your kingdom’s first instance of intercontinental trade—desiring someone to protect her.”

“Why you!”

Understanding what Zenjirou was implying, Eric sent his chair skittering back. If he had been angry earlier, he was practically murderous now. Even Natalio at Zenjirou’s back had readied himself, so that was likely no overstatement.

While internally resigned to being unable to entirely hide his worry, Zenjirou did his best to project confidence as he spoke to the king.

“As you have heard, Your Majesty, Prince Eric’s objections are not relevant to Princess Freya.”

While watching the prince reach for his sword out of the corner of his eye, Zenjirou waited for the king’s response.

Gustav let out another sigh before speaking. “There is logic to your words. Freya is certainly not a normal woman who would feel happy about being protected. Regardless, I am sure you can see how her father and brother would be uneasy about entrusting someone they love to someone who was incapable of doing so, no? However overjoyed one may feel, they must be alive to feel it,” he admonished him.

Gustav had dealt with the situation as a good king should, admitting his son’s mistake in showing such emotion while also strengthening his legitimacy to refute Zenjirou. Moreover, as if to accent said weakness, he moved his neck so that it was obvious he was looking at Zenjirou’s shoulders. Shoulders that were currently shaking from Eric’s threatening presence.

While Zenjirou’s physical weakness was evident simply in his stance, this fear likely showed mental weakness to the king.

“You are quite right. I grew somewhat heated and my words went too far,” Zenjirou replied.

While Skaji had told him to not cede ground, he did so here. It was something of a gamble, considering both men’s personalities, but if Zenjirou didn’t deviate too much from their impression of him, he was sure he could get things moving in the direction he wished.

“Indeed! We cannot turn a woman of the Uppasala family over to a man who has not even taken the Rite of Age! Anything else should come after that!” Eric cried.

Zenjirou looked back to Gustav, asking with his eyes whether he was going to let the comment pass and if Zenjirou could respond to it. The lack of reaction was an agreement on its own.

With Eric showing the reaction he’d expected, and Gustav making no move to censure him, Zenjirou shifted with triumph.

“I see. That sounds intriguing. Being so far north on the Northern Continent, Uppasala has some characteristic customs. However, as someone from the Southern Continent’s Kingdom of Capua, I would appreciate you understanding the difference in our cultures.”

Eric took the lowered tone and legitimate request for understanding as weakness. He laughed scornfully and practically spat. “Impossible. The Rite of Age is an absolute minimum requirement here. Taking a royal woman has me wanting to demand the Rite of the Warrior, even.”

Zenjirou had heard of both of them from Skaji before, what with the high possibility of either event coming up in response to his request for marriage. However, he played dumb.

“Inferring from your words, the former would be proof that you were of age and the latter that you were a warrior. However, with regard to the former, I am considered as such in Capua, and as for the latter, I am not a warrior to begin with.”

He spoke firmly, intentionally speaking faster as if trying to keep himself out of danger, depending on one’s viewpoint.

“Hmph, so you are frightened.”

Zenjirou answered the absolute derision of the prince with silence. Not reacting here was effectively agreeing. Despite understanding that, he purposefully said nothing.

“Hah, I see what you are. The Rite of Age is—as the name implies—something children must face to be considered adults. We cannot confer any of the rights a person of age would have if they cannot even muster the courage to take it. It goes without saying that marriage is one of those rights.”

Zenjirou then answered with slight anger, as if angry that his pride had been slighted. “Oh? So you mean to say that there is no cowardly man within this country?”

He raked his gaze over everyone present, addressing his question not just to Eric, but to every man present.

Not one of the men looked away from him. Young or old, the image of a warrior or more slender officials—though the latter were much fewer in number—all of them nodded firmly.

Things were going how he’d hoped. He made sure not to hide his nerves, fear, or even inferiority as he responded.

“I see. That is where our cultures differ. My own lands see warriors as distinguished. However, not every man is a warrior, and even those who aren’t are still respected.”

To the Uppasalans, it sounded like pitiful excuses.

“Then you should marry a woman who can respect such a culture. You should make at least this concession if you wish to marry a woman—particularly a royal—from our lands.”

Eric had stopped hiding any of his derision. While the other men present didn’t speak, they still showed agreement. The only exceptions were Yngvi at his side, and the king. Conversely, you could also say that they were the only two whose thoughts and emotions weren’t following Zenjirou’s guidance.

Those two needed extra attention, he warned himself. Still, with the majority thinking as he wished, he gave his prepared statement. “Concessions in both directions are important, yes. Particularly considering that our two nations have yet to interact at all. Either side pushing entirely unilaterally will lead to failure.”

“While I agree with that view, this is not something I am willing to concede.”

“Any unilateral decisions of that ilk are out of the question. I see. Then I would like to invite you to my country. I am sure that if you are able to experience our culture and customs, our nations will be able to take a large step towards understanding.”

The conversation thus far had closed off any avenues of escape to the suggestion. Anyone important would have worked, but the first prince was either extremely fortunate or perhaps too fortunate. However, his lack of this kind of knowledge meant that he couldn’t change his plans now.

“How foolish. Unlike Freya, I am not in a position to leave the country for years at a time.” While taken aback, he spat his objection afterwards.

Zenjirou knew that this would be the clincher and pressed further. “You need not concern yourself. I can cast teleportation. While it has its limits, I can send things and people to places that I have visited before in an instant. I can use that to send you to Capua. Although I cannot use it countless times in a single day, of course, I would happily use it for you,” he said, grinning.

At his claims, the room stirred in a completely different way than earlier. The Uppasalan royal family had no lineal magic, but there were royal families on the continent that did, so his claim wasn’t taken as a falsehood.

“Ridiculous. Why would I do such a thing?” the prince said, discarding it out of hand. He wouldn’t let the other man force the issue here.

“I see. I thought it was a good suggestion, but I will not force the matter. But crossing the sea like Princess Freya requires an extreme amount of courage. It is hardly surprising that you would show fear under such circumstances. I suppose it was too much to ask. My apologies.”

The very clear way in which Zenjirou bowed his head made Eric surpass anger and completely freeze. Zenjirou took the opportunity and continued.

“I suppose under those circumstances, there would be no need for me to undertake the Rite of Age. After all, despite the claim of there being no cowardly man in the country, that does not seem to be the case. The problem is solved, then, and I would like to reiterate my desire to wed Princess Freya.”

“Take that back!” the prince demanded, sword half-drawn.

Zenjirou gave him a smile tinged with tension and fear. “Surely you realize how impossible that is? All I did was remark upon reality. It is not something that can be ‘taken back’ by another’s words, only the person in question’s actions. Or if I was to ask you to take back your comments and say that I was a suitable man to marry Princess Freya even without the Rite of Age, would you be willing?”

“Your nonsense is not the same as my speaking the truth,” Eric growled lowly. Zenjirou could feel the man was on the verge of making good on his implied threats.

“It is unquestionable that you rejected my suggestion. While I am sure you would say that it was not out of cowardice, it is not you who gets to make that determination.”

Zenjirou looked over the others again. Lured in by that action, Eric looked at the leaders and warriors of his country. Suddenly, his anger vanished, like he had been doused in ice-cold water.

It was not everyone. Indeed, it was a minority, but there were certainly people looking critically at him. It almost felt like they were accusing him of talking a good game but making an excuse and running when things got dangerous.

The warriors of Uppasala had an almost ingrained tendency to consider running from a trial as cowardice without question. It was a problem that Gustav had been wrestling with and it was now undermining the prince. An even greater problem was that Eric’s own views as a warrior meant he could not just discard their opinions as ridiculous.

As Eric opened his mouth to speak, Zenjirou forestalled him. “There are times when cowardice is preferable to courage. I have always thought so. However, if courage is required here, then so be it. Aware of my cowardice as I am, I will gather what courage I have. In order to ask for Princess Freya’s hand in marriage, I will follow Uppasala’s customs and undertake the Rite of Age.”

Just as he implied, his voice shook with nerves, but it was still firm. The warriors present viewed him with some small measure of interest for the first time.

“But as I said, for both of our nations, I have no intention of agreeing to a one-sided compromise. This is assuming that you accept my suggestion and show your own courage and come to my own lands.”

There was silence as Zenjirou’s gaze seemed to bore physically into Eric. Still, the prince released his sword and sat back in his chair, understanding that an outburst of anger would do nothing here.

Before he had fully recovered his cool and managed to speak, the king stepped in. “Your Majesty, I wish to confirm that your taking the Rite of Age is to ask for her hand, no? You do not assume that simply undertaking the rite will allow your marriage?”

“Indeed so, Your Majesty,” Zenjirou agreed, frankly relieved that he had pointed it out. Taking and succeeding in this test would only allow him the right to ask. It would take things from being “out of the question” to a “reasonable idea.”

“There you have it, Eric.”

With the conversation falling back to him, Eric remembered—albeit too late—that while Freya had forced her way to its captaincy, the construction of the Glasir’s Leaf and its voyage were at the king’s behest.

While Zenjirou was nothing more than royalty from the Southern Continent and someone they hesitated to hand a princess over to, he was also the key to intercontinental trade that Gustav was entrusting his country’s future to. At the very least, he was willing to accept the country as an equal and negotiate. With that understanding, Eric also realized that there was nothing he could say here.

“I understand, Your Majesty. I will see Capua with my own eyes,” he proclaimed loudly.

The other warriors in the room murmured approvingly at his show of courage.

“Thank you, Prince Eric,” Zenjirou responded. “I will send a maid to inform them that a guest of your stature is coming. Then, once I have sent you, I shall undertake the Rite of Age.”

While his voice was much quieter than Eric’s, it also garnered murmurs of praise for his courage. There was no anger or disdain for his mocking their prince or calling him a coward. That was the first time Zenjirou truly understood the advice Skaji had given him.

So, this is how they are as warriors. Despite the insults and such, when you show courage, they’ll congratulate it. 

In that case, clashing directly certainly made things quicker than immediately compromising or currying favor by hiding what you really wanted to say. The fact that not giving in also meant putting your life on the line was somewhat of an issue, though.

Even the prince—while not entirely free of distaste for the man—had nodded several times with a harsh expression when Zenjirou had made his declaration. The looks of welcome on the few officials’ faces was possibly less to do with courage and more to do with the profit such trade would bring to the country.

The two exceptions were the king and the silver-haired youth sitting at Eric’s side—the second prince, Yngvi. Gustav wasn’t hiding his rueful smile, and the younger male was clearly holding back joyous laughter. It seemed the two of them had seen through him. His declaration was the exact opposite of courage. It was simply calculating self-preservation.

“Your Majesty,” Gustav said, interrupting his regret and making him straighten.

“Yes?”

The king gave a gentle smile. “I cannot prioritize one child over another due to affection, but as king, I must do precisely that for my princes and princesses. In that respect, Eric will one day become king, so I want him safely returned,” he said meaningfully.

Zenjirou firmly met his eyes. “Of course, I swear it,” he answered, ducking his head slightly to avoid the full strength of the king’s gaze.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Once the meeting was over, Eric was summoned by his father. He sat down in front of the king in his office and awaited his comments with dignity.

“While it was somewhat unexpected, you will be putting in great efforts now.”

Eric snorted at his father’s words before answering. “While I am less than happy about the specifics, the result itself is the best I could ask for. I will see the Southern Continent for myself and then pass judgment.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Leave it to me.”

The king, in one way, trusted the strength in his son’s eyes deeply. It was the prototypical warrior’s gaze. While seeing the country’s strength as its military strength alone was problematic, there was certainty in his eyes. If Eric was seen as strong, then the country would be too. And vice versa if he was seen as weak. He was a bit overzealous sometimes and had a tendency to allow his emotions to get the best of him and lead him into outbursts. Still, he did not allow that to stop him from listening, and his personality had won him the support of the warriors.

He was still young, but Gustav was sure that Eric would be an even better king once he gained experience. The problem was whether he would have the time to do so. That much was beyond the king’s control, so all he could do was pray.

Due to the conversation about cowardice and the lack of such, Eric would be going to Capua. However, Gustav took the optimistic view that there was little danger in it. Capua was on-board enough with the intercontinental trade agreement that they had sent one of their very few royals on a perilous crossing. Capua would be making the arrangements, so as long as Eric didn’t do anything excessive, he would be treated as an honored guest.

There was a single point of failure that would spell his end, though. Gustav’s expression grew tighter as he put the dilemma into words.

“Still, the issue will be His Majesty’s rite happening at the same time. We will have to choose his companions prudently.”

The northern countries—including Uppasala—carried out the Rite of Age. It consisted of fewer than ten people heading out into the mountains or out to sea and bringing something down over a certain size.

For the mountains, it would need to be something like a deer, reindeer, wolf, boar, bear, and so on. At sea, it could be a seal, sea lion, walrus, or so on.

The custom had originated due to the slow development of agriculture because of the constant snow blocking off many areas. To support a family, a man needed to be able to serve as either a hunter or fisherman. Of course, not many people earned their livings as hunters and fishermen now, but the custom was still deeply rooted. A blacksmith, someone inheriting a shop from their parents, even someone working as a lecturer at a university—each and every one of them would have taken the rite while they were young.

“Indeed, we cannot just throw him in with a group of young men actually taking the rite. He would drag them down with him,” Eric said with a darkly amused laugh.

The king just rested his head in his hand. “I should have known you would not understand.”

The custom was to take the rite with a group of people who were also doing the same—in other words, a group of minors. However, as time progressed, it became acceptable to be accompanied by others who had already passed the rite.

Nowadays, there was no shortage of youths coddled by full hunters, whose families had enough money that actually being able to fight was meaningless. Of course, anyone who wanted to genuinely become a hunter or fisherman—or take the Rite of the Warrior—would never take such a shortcut.

Generally, the closer one was to the top levels of the palace, the more traditionally they took the rite due to the warrior-like nature they practiced. However, the king knew it would be impossible to impose that upon Zenjirou.

“That is not why. His Majesty must complete the rite as quickly as possible. At the very least, even if he fails, he must return unharmed.”

Unable to understand the reasoning behind that, Eric snorted. “I can understand granting foreign nobles concessions to develop relationships with their countries, but is such an extent necessary? If he were to be injured or even die during his rite, then that would be either a lack of skill or fortune.”

“That is not the problem. The issue is that we cannot lose you.”

“What? Me?”

The king gritted his teeth as he explained the situation to his son. “Were you not listening to His Majesty’s declaration? He said, ‘once I have sent you, I shall undertake the Rite of Age.’ In other words, you will be on the Southern Continent while he is undertaking the rite. If the worst should happen, how will you return?”

“Huh?”

Eric finally noticed the exact wording of the statement. Until Zenjirou returned safely, Eric would be completely unable to return from the Southern Continent.

“But in terms of lineal magic, there must be other people who can cast it. Queen Aura at least should be able to.”

“Have you forgotten? His Majesty called it magic that allowed him to send people and things to places that he has visited. I do not know how many people in Capua can cast the spell, but the only one who has ever visited Uppasala—or the Northern Continent as a whole, in fact—is His Majesty.”

Eric’s face went blank as he understood the situation as a whole. An expression—that of anger—had started to return to his face when Gustav waved him down.

“Calm yourself. You are to be the next king; you cannot throw your life away to your emotions.”

“Of course...” Eric replied eventually, face bitter. If he was willing to surrender any chance of return, he could get his revenge on Zenjirou. However, all he would gain was the satisfaction of doing so. When Capua lost Zenjirou, they would have no reason not to take the prince’s life.

The only result would be both countries losing precious royals and neither side gaining from it. Gustav was not so light on his son to let that happen.

“Allowing him to die is out of the question. However, we do not want the rite to take too long either. While he is doing it, you will be staying in Capua.”

The issue there was that the Rite of Age had no time limit. If one could not find suitable prey, it could take days or even months. If Zenjirou did that, it would lead to Eric being stranded in Capua for longer. It was not a situation they wanted to be in.

“Add to that the war between the knights and the commonwealth. It will be a war on a scale yet to be seen.”

“You are sure?” Eric asked, reacting dramatically to the mention of war. It was close to a reaction of joy. The king found it heartening that he didn’t balk at the possibility, but that was also not the kind of disposition that would be appreciated in the next king.

“I am. While they are across the sea and mountains, they are our neighbors. There is also the matter of Freya’s presence being capitalized on by Princess Anna. I doubt things will reach us, but we need to be ready. That is precisely why I do not want you away from the country for too long.”

“Understood,” Eric replied firmly, almost eagerly. In truth, he would be a dependable commander on the battlefield. So much so that having him away from the country if something occurred would be an issue.

“Therefore, I want His Majesty to complete the rite as quickly as possible. That makes choosing his companions a matter of utmost importance. Eric, who would you recommend?”

Eric fell into thought at the question.

“I can think of many skilled warriors and hunters. Many of them would—if I ordered it—even give their lives to see those orders fulfilled, if I may be so bold. Having them accompany him would mean he would certainly not be injured. However, the finishing blow must be made by the man himself. However skilled the people with him are, I have my doubts that he will be able to do it.”

The curt statement was not uttered out of hostility towards Zenjirou; it was merely Eric’s view of the man’s abilities. A warrior of Eric’s caliber could look at someone’s physique, stance, and gait to determine whether they were an amateur or veteran of combat. Thus, his declaration that Zenjirou was a rank amateur on the level of women and children.

However skilled the people around him might be, the one undergoing the rite would find it difficult to complete if they were a complete amateur. He would be allowed help, but he had to strike the final blow.

Traps were likewise allowed, but he would have to be the one to lay them. If his escorts laid a trap and he used a spear to strike from a distance, that would not fulfill the requirements, even today.

It was still spring. Much of the mountains were covered in snow. He would have to carry his weapons, traps—and if he went for the mountains, his camping gear—on his own. Eric frankly didn’t think Zenjirou stood a chance.

“True. Personally, I wish for him to succeed, but we need to prepare for the possibility he does not.”

“Father, you approve of giving Freya to that man?”

The king couldn’t resist a smile at the almost refreshingly to-the-point question. “I am not against it, at least. If it keeps our honor, it is an entirely reasonable deal. While I do love Freya, she is not irreplaceable as a royal. They are still young, but we have both Gerda and Hilda. The only one we cannot replace is you.”

Although there was fatherly affection in his tone, the conversation itself was that of a merciless statesman. The king had three wives, and as many sons and daughters each between them, six children in total. Being born into the royal family made it unavoidable that their marriages would be intertwined with—and judged by—their political return.

“I understand how important this trade is,” Eric said. “However, allowing our first princess to be a concubine of the consort of the Southern Continent’s royalty is far too detrimental to our reputation. Besides, there must be something that would make her happier.”

The statement would have caused more issues if Zenjirou had heard it, but Eric was serious. He truly believed that if Freya married someone who would be accepted, she would be happy.

“Well, true.” The king agreed as well. The difference was that he knew her happiness was tilted more towards becoming Zenjirou’s concubine than a normal marriage.

Even understanding that, though, it was hard for him to respect the decision. It was akin to her wanting to marry a self-proclaimed musician or comedian. No parent would truly welcome such a union. Even if she wanted it deeply, norms dictated that very few relatives would truly be happy with it.

However, Gustav was a king before he was a father. “Let me tell you now. You should consider the trade deal with Capua to be a certainty. While I do not mind you objecting to their union, I expect you to not allow it to influence that.”

The prince remained silent for a moment before mastering his emotions and saying, “I understand.”

“Still, your statement that it is bad for our reputation is quite correct. We will need to take measures to deal with that. His Majesty taking the Rite of Age is one of those. That alone will not be enough.”

“Prince Consort Zenjirou taking First Princess Freya as a concubine” would on its own make the marriage biased in Capua’s favor. That therefore needed to be ameliorated by Zenjirou’s efforts, which would make things more accepted on the whole.

In that respect, the Rite of Age was an easy option. Normally, if a royal was marrying internationally, they would not require the northern customs to be followed. By accepting this, Zenjirou was able to show that he was willing to physically work for the marriage.

“In that case, we shall have that weakling say he has had enough and take back his words, though he will not be injured at all.”

The king sighed as he answered his combative son. “Do not go too far.”

Once Eric had left the room, Gustav’s next visitor arrived.

“You called, father?”

The guest was Yngvi, the country’s second prince. He was similar enough in looks to Freya that it would make you wonder if someone had simply changed her gender with magic. He was Freya’s twin and shared the same silver hair and icy-blue eyes. Much to the king’s concern, there was a lot of his personality that showed similarities to hers as well. On this occasion, though, that similarity was exactly what he wanted.

“I want to hear your judgments. Have you spoken with Freya since her return?”

The prince shook his head. “Unfortunately not. I spoke briefly with the sailors, but not with her yet.”

That was the truth. The two of them were particularly close royals, but both of them were adults. Even princes and princesses who had grown up together could not meet so easily once they were of age. Things were different now than when they used to swap clothes and trick people.

While that was not what he had hoped for, Gustav continued the conversation. “I see. Do so as soon as you can. If needed, I will arrange it.”

“I understand, father.”

The king was slightly envious of the easy smile on his son’s face. Speaking with Freya was nothing but a good thing for the younger male. While Gustav doubtlessly loved her as his daughter, every time there was a request for a meeting with her, he felt a heavy weight settle in his stomach. However, that made the prince invaluable as an interpreter for her.

“Give me your honest views. What do you think of Freya becoming a concubine?”

“It’s a good thing, isn’t it? A political marriage where three sides gain to such an extent is rather rare to my knowledge,” the prince answered surely.

The three sides in this case would be the Capuan royal family, the Uppasalan royal family, and Freya herself. The one person being ignored was Zenjirou, but Yngvi had no knowledge on that front. National benefit aside, he had no way of knowing how an individual he had not lived and eaten with would feel personally.

“So it is a marriage she would want. Are you sure it is not just a flight of fancy?” Gustav’s question was due to understanding all too well how a spur-of-the-moment decision could lead to a life of regret.

“I cannot say for certain. However, what I can say is that her values have not wavered in the slightest since we were children. Looking at it from the perspective of those values, this seems to be an unexpected blessing. What you and my brother consider a happy marriage would be nothing but a duty for Freya to fulfill as a royal.”

The king felt like he was constantly racking his brains to see her happy, and he let out a sigh at his son’s stinging evaluation. “A duty rather than a blessing...” With such a disparity in their views, it made him want to just give up on understanding her, for all that they were related by blood. “Still, there is the problem of our country’s honor. What are your thoughts on the harm that allowing our first princess to become a consort’s concubine would do?”

Yngvi didn’t take any notice of that issue. “I do not think it is a concern. We animistic countries are already looked down on by those the church influences. The exception would be Złota Wolność, I suppose.”

While he was correct, it was also true that he was speaking hastily and from a lack of understanding that came with youth.

“Precisely, Yngvi. Precisely. That is why we cannot afford to be viewed as even lowlier. If we lose trade with them, the country will not survive.”

Strictly speaking, the country would still survive. Even if they were limited only to trading with other animistic countries in the north, they could maintain their position for a while. But the continent was in the midst of a technological and economic boom. Simply maintaining the status quo while their neighbors made leaps and bounds would lead to a relative reduction in their strength.

However, Yngvi denied his father’s words. “That is precisely why, father. We should take this opportunity to get out from under the thumb of the church. Unfettered trade with the Southern Continent makes that a possibility. New large ships and establishing sea routes will potentially also make it possible to reach Capua without an intermediary stop. Additionally, the Capuan royal family can use teleportation. While that alone will not support trade, it will allow rapid and safe passage for people and documents. Moreover, the country already has the port of Valentia, which is capable of supporting ships of that size. Despite that, they are not currently trading directly with the Northern Continent and are still one of the leading countries on their continent. It would be foolish to allow such a country to slip through our fingers.”

He had gotten more and more heated as he spoke, eventually rising from his chair as he reached the end of his diatribe.

With all those circumstances combined, Capua was clearly an ideal trading partner. In some ways, it was a harbinger of a potential new age, and the silver-haired prince was perhaps more sensitive to that than anyone.

“So you believe a temporary stain on our honor would be acceptable? I understand what you want to say. However, that is a judgment I cannot make.”

“Then you should hand the throne over to me soon. I think when I turn twenty would be the best?”

His face was similar to Freya’s, as was the smile on it. However, his icy-blue eyes were looking towards a completely different future. While Freya sought freedom and the unknown, Yngvi was eyeing the throne.

“You are ten years too early. I fear handing the throne to you. If things go smoothly, I am sure you can become the next king, but it is not certain. If you want the throne, you need to improve yourself.”

“I understand, father,” he replied with an innocent grin.

Once Gustav had seen his second son leave, he heaved a sigh. “Both of my adult sons have promise. It would be ludicrous to ask for more.”

While he understood that, as a father, he could not help his eyes being drawn to their flaws. Eric was caught in a combative mindset and had a narrow outlook on things. Yngvi was too ambitious and would try and speed the country’s progression along excessively.

Gustav himself was still in his forties. He knew he must be at the country’s helm for at least another decade. That meant that establishing trade between Capua and Uppasala would fall to him.

Making his decision, Gustav rang a bell to summon an aide.

“You called?”

“Contact His Majesty. Tell him I wish to talk with just the two of us tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

The king closed his eyes and considered the man called Zenjirou. From a warrior’s perspective, he was easily summed up as pathetic and unreliable. However, he had successfully trapped Eric and managed to negotiate.

Considering Eric’s reaction during their latest conversation, while the prince was angry with Zenjirou, he also felt competitive with him. From a certain perspective, you could say that he recognized Zenjirou as an equal. Gustav considered it a change for the better.

“I want another. I could do with the warriors around Eric taking the blow rather than only him,” he murmured as he watched his aide leave.