Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 13 - Chapter 2.5

Intermission — Prince Eric’s Visit to Capua

While Zenjirou was struggling with his rite, the first prince of Uppasala was dripping with sweat in a training area.

“Phew!”

Standing in front of him, wearing flexible leather armor and with a rounded-off wooden spear in his hands, was Marshal Pujol. He was even bigger than Eric and was calmly facing the prince, who held the same weapon. His broad smile spoke louder than any words. “Come at me however you like,” it said.

Eric understood the expression and let out a yell as he attacked.

“Hah!”

He thrust with the spear. A quick, short thrust meant that even a blunted spear could kill and injure. Still, as soon as it touched Pujol’s spear, its trajectory warped like magic, being diverted down.

“I think not!”

Eric pulled his spear back in an arc from under Pujol’s. He then swung again, in an arch towards the marshal’s right flank.

That was well within the man’s expectations, though. He simply pulled back his hands and sent the prince’s spear into the air instead.

“Hah! Hahhh! Hahhhhh!”

Eric had thrown away all composure and attacked with abandon. Their bout lasted for a long time, and his expression changed as it continued. It started at irritation, then progressed to anger before eventually warping to joy.

The irritation was simply explained. The prince was confident in his strength and was irritated that his attacks were having no effect. Eventually, that became anger as he realized that Pujol was better than him and simply “playing” with him by merely defending. His anger had finally become joy when he realized that Pujol was even stronger than he had imagined.

The marshal wasn’t playing with him; he was giving him guidance. The proof was that whenever Eric tried to attack with poor timing, his opponent wouldn’t let him attack at all, whereas if his attempt was well timed, Pujol would defend against it. Additionally, whenever the prince put too much strength behind his attack and ruined his balance, the marshal would strike just harshly enough that it wouldn’t injure him.

This wasn’t a duel, it was instruction. While Eric was part of the royal family, he was also one of the best warriors in the country. There were several people who could beat him in a bout with spears, but not one of them could teach him like this while he was going all out. His tendency to show almost unconditional respect to any skilled warrior could at times be a detriment.

“Hah! Hrah! Hmph!”

Even his strongest attacks were being warded off and used as teaching aids. He had forgotten what that felt like and found himself just concentrating solely on his spearwork, his mind blank.

“Let us leave things there,” Pujol said. While he was drenched in sweat, he was breathing evenly.

Eric, on the other hand, barely managed an agreement through gasps of breath. The prince was visibly exhausted to anyone who cared to look—so much so that the very fact that he was still on his feet could be attributed to pride more than anything else.

Still, he was not breathing heavily for long. It was part of his training to master his breath quickly.

When he had recovered, the prince smiled broadly at Pujol. “That was magnificent! The skill you have is phenomenal. I am sure that were you born in our lands, you would have been given the name of Thor.”

“I thank you for the compliment, Your Highness. Am I to assume that this met your expectations, then?”

The question was due to the fact that the bout had only happened because of a request from Eric. “I wish to have a bout with a warrior of this country in order to understand it. I could not do so with His Majesty,” he had said.

Aura had accepted that and allowed him to fight with Pujol as the representative of their country.

“I can tell you are well trained. There are not even many of our knights who would measure up,” Pujol said.

“It is gladdening to hear that from one of your caliber. Still, ‘knights?’ I had heard there were no horses on the Southern Continent, yet you have knights?”

“Horses are the creatures used in the north as mounts, no?” Pujol responded. “I have heard of them and seen drawings, at least. We use dash drakes on the Southern Continent. They are herbivorous drakes.”

“Dash drakes? So you ride drakes?”

It was hardly a surprise that his eyes started to sparkle. Drakes—particularly land drakes—were practically myths on the Northern Continent. As far north as Uppasala was, the closest they got were rumors from hunters about seeing them, but nothing substantiated. They were viewed on the same level as rumors of Japanese wolves or otters in modern Japan—both species being extinct now.

The only location where there were concrete examples of the drakes still living was in the untouched forests of Złota Wolność. Those who followed the church would revere them, but Uppasala was an animistic country. They simply admired them and saw them as fearsome potential prey.

“Would you like to ride one?” the marshal offered.

“I would,” the prince answered quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the marshal couldn’t help a smile of amusement.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

That night, Pujol was summoned to the royal palace. When he arrived, the others were already there: Aura, the Head Court Mage Espiridion, and Fabio, the royal secretary.

“You are here. Sit,” Aura said.

“Thank you,” Pujol answered, taking a seat with her permission.

Night had fallen, and while the room was lit with many oil lamps, it was still dim. Reflexively, the warrior’s instincts from living through the war had him looking to the shadows to make sure no one was hiding there.

“I do not have much time, so I shall get right to it. What is your opinion of Prince Eric?”

The man smiled widely. “He seemed to enjoy himself. It was only a light bout, but I rather enjoyed it as well.”

“I see,” the queen answered shortly.

The upper echelons of the country had been in disarray in the few days since Eric’s arrival—or more accurately, since the tall maid carrying a letter informing them of his arrival had shown up.

Aura wanted to demand answers, but the person to demand them of was currently on the Northern Continent out of contact, so she had just had to prepare as he asked. For both the concubine agreement and the intercontinental trade, Eric needed to be treated as an honored guest.

They had rushed around ensuring they were ready to receive a foreign royal, and the efforts required had made Aura sour towards her husband for the first time. That said, while it was an exceptionally irregular and unofficial visit, there had been no issues as of yet. Although Eric was against the marriage, he wouldn’t bandy those views about inside their palace. As far as public perception went, he was grateful for the welcome for his sudden visit, and Aura was wholly welcoming to him.

Aura put her chin in her hand at his answer. “Well, it would seem my first impression of him was correct.”

Her first impression of him was—it went without saying—that of a simple warrior. It seemed like she was correct in allowing Pujol to deal with him despite his lack of diplomatic experience.

“Indeed. After our bout, he was able to ride a dash drake, but he was like a child with his enjoyment. I even heard him wondering whether he could import one.”

Even after the breeders had told him how difficult they would be to rear in the cold weather of the Northern Continent, he still hadn’t given up. Considering how they were over twice as strong as even warhorses, it was no surprise that a fighter like Eric would be partial to them.

“I see.”

Internally, Aura was considering things. The maid’s letter from Zenjirou—written by Ines—had implied there was quite the uneasy relationship between the prince and her husband. While it was a good thing that their visitor had gotten on so well with the marshal, it was something to be wary of.

“Very well. I shall speak with him privately tomorrow.”

The letter and Eric’s behavior so far had shown that he was not particularly well-disposed to Capua, so while he had been officially welcomed, Aura had not met privately with him yet. Likewise, there had been no talk of either the trade agreement or the marriage that went with it.

That could not remain the case. If talks did not progress, then what was the point of exposing Zenjirou to the danger of the voyage on the Glasir’s Leaf?

“If Princess Freya’s words are to be believed, then Uppasala is one of the leading countries in smithing and ship construction on the Northern Continent. Pujol, take a look at this and give me your honest thoughts.”

As she spoke, Aura offered a sword to him unconcernedly. Someone so close to her having a sword certainly wasn’t safe, but now wasn’t the time for that. If Pujol wished, he was capable of killing the queen bare-handed.

“Very well.”

He took the sword and removed the clasp, slipping it from its sheath. This was the treasure sword Eric had presented as “a token of friendship” between their countries. The sheath was a deep blue and inlaid with glittering stones. The cross guard on the sword was made of gold, and the pommel itself had a large gem embedded in it. It was a magnificent specimen, certainly worthy of being called “treasure.”

That was as far as that went, though. The grip was—as could be seen at a glance—covered in rough leather to stop it from slipping. The bared blade was too thick to be a decorative piece. It was long and straight, with both edges sharpened enough that one hesitated to even rest their finger on the blade.

Contrary to its sharpness, though, the blade was excessively thick, so it wouldn’t cut as well. In exchange, it was harder to break and its weight made strikes more powerful. Even if the blade was nicked, it would not lose its lethality.

Looking further, the sheath was bigger than the sword would warrant. The clasps on either side of the guard would hold it in place, but it was so loose that the sword would fall from the sheath without them. This was another thing that demonstrated it had been made to be used.

When a sword was used in combat, its blade could be warped and bent, so a sheath that fit it perfectly wouldn’t work again until it had been repaired. That made it harder to carry. Therefore sheaths for the battlefield were made bigger than their swords so that even if the blade was no longer straight, it would fit.

This was made in precisely that way. The sword on Eric’s waist—while less ornate—was made in much the same way. It would appear that in Uppasala, swords that were both ornate and practical were the norm.

“So, your honest opinions?” Aura asked.

“I want this sword,” Pujol said, purposefully missing the point as he gazed at the sword in the light from the flames.

“While I asked for your honest opinion, that was not what I meant,” Aura returned with reluctant amusement.

Handing over a sword like this—which had been offered as proof of friendship between two nations—to someone else was out of the question, even if it was to Capua’s own marshal. Still, the very fact that Pujol would make such a statement in earnest showed his feelings about the blade.

“It is that impressive?”

“I am honestly in love. I would willingly exchange the spear my uncle gave me for it.”

The marshal had no real aesthetic taste for jewelry, so his evaluation of it was strictly as a weapon.

“Hmm. Since they chose it as a gift, it is likely among their best. Still, with that taken into account, it is impressive enough for you to say as much.”

It would seem that Freya may not have been exaggerating about her country’s relative skill with smithing.

“I shall do whatever I can to ensure the trade deal succeeds.” Pujol grinned.

“I look forward to it,” Aura responded, offering him a nod, although she would not make any firm declarations to Pujol, given his position as the head of one of the most influential families in the country.

The best result for Aura would be trade between the two royal families. Of course, they could not be too concerned with “the best” outcome, so involving the other noble families would be a consideration. Still, there was no need just yet.

“Good work. You may leave.”

“Ma’am!” he replied, rising from the sofa. “Excuse me.”

The longing gaze he directed towards the blade on the table before he left was very telling.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

The next day, Eric Estridsen Uppasala and Aura Capua met in a room of the royal palace. They started with simple greetings and transitioned into Eric thanking her for the accommodations over the past few days. Once Aura had told him of Pujol’s praise for the sword he had given him, they moved to the main topic.

“This may be an odd thing to bring up now, but your visit here means you must have become acquainted with my husband.”

There was no questioning tone to her words; they were solely to act as a preface to their conversation. Eric was not the most skilled actor, so he did not hide his displeasure as he nodded.

“I have. He seems a particularly wise individual. I could not do the same, though, I must admit, nor would I want to,” he said, exercising all of his self-control to not blatantly bad-mouth the other man.

Aura could tell that carelessly trying to keep up appearances would not be any help with Eric, so she didn’t hide the rueful tinge to her expression as she answered.

“He is the man I love most,” she replied.

“Pardon me,” Eric apologized, realizing he had gone too far with his statement, but he still didn’t retract it.

“Well, no matter. Everyone has their own affinities. Fortunately, he and Princess Freya seem to have relatively good compatibility.”

With the main topic now opened for discussion, Eric’s gaze sharpened. “As her older brother, and wishing for her happiness, it is not something I can wholeheartedly approve of.”

“I shall remember your individual feelings. Has King Gustav said anything?” Aura asked, brushing aside his clear disapproval.

First prince he might be, but he was not the king, and he had no say in the final decision. Eric was somewhat put off by her treatment and responded with an answer slightly off the main point.

“My king has high hopes for trade with your nation.”

“I see. It is an honor to hear it,” she replied with an easy grin.

Her thoughts were decidedly less placid, though. In response to her tackling the matter of Freya’s marriage, Eric had brought up the trade agreement. While it was a fact that the two topics were inextricably linked, it was still answering the implied question of “What does King Gustav think of the marriage?” with “He is eager for trade.”

Assuming Eric wasn’t a fool who could not read a room, he was all but saying that the king was willing to permit the marriage for the trade agreement.

That did not, however, mean there was no need to convince him. Eric was the first prince and—should things proceed as normal—would be the next king of Uppasala. Pushing past his objections to force a marriage would effectively be setting a time bomb for when the crown passed to him.

“And what are your thoughts on trade between our nations?” Aura asked, going for a topic that would suit him as well.

“I believe it will be a great benefit to both of our lands if it comes to pass. Of course, I am not accomplished in increasing wealth or in its use, so I would delegate that to specialists.”

His tone spoke more of his lack of interest than his words did. If he had to come down on one side or the other, then he was for the deal, but he was not eager for it. His actions over the past few days left Aura sure it was not an act, which meant that it would be difficult to garner his approval of the trade deal.

“I see. Then would the same be true of the marriage? Would it be something to delegate to those familiar with such matters?” Aura asked after considering her other options.

“No. While Freya has her problems, she is still my precious younger sister, and I would like to take that responsibility.”

“So it is for her. A worthy goal.”

Her statement was not necessarily entirely sarcastic. His expression and tone revealed an obvious—albeit somewhat awkward—affection for her.

“Any brother would wish the best for his sister,” Eric said, straightening in his seat. He didn’t seem to see any sarcasm at all.

“Then that makes me hope for your approval of their match all the more. It will make her happy, and I am certain that our nation can best do that.”

Eric nodded with a firm expression. “I certainly have revised my assumptions since I arrived. While I cannot say that I have grasped everything, I have no doubt as to the country’s strength.”

While Eric was a warrior at heart and had a tendency to view everything through that lens, he was still a highly educated royal. The welcome he had received, the palace itself, and experiencing the dash drakes with Pujol let him see that the country was certainly a large, powerful one.

While the Northern Continent tended to look down on the Southern Continent, that tendency was less prevalent in Uppasala, as they were also animistic. Therefore, having seen their nation for himself, he was willing to treat them as equals. Then again, one could say that assuming the decision was his to make meant that he saw them as inferior to begin with, whether he realized it or not.

Either way, now that he knew what the country was like, he was not against Freya marrying someone from there. His issue was Zenjirou’s personality and position. His initial low impression of him as someone he could kill one-handed had been somewhat revised after how he was played, but there was nothing making up for the man’s position of prince consort.

Taking the first princess of one country and marrying her off to a prince consort of another was by no means an equal partnership. If anything, it was putting Capua decidedly higher. Aura could understand the concern and nodded several times in understanding.

“I recognize your worries in that regard. While I can only offer verbal assurances as of now, I can say that both my husband and I will do our absolute utmost to ensure she is treated well. She will not just be a member of the royal family, but a duchess of her own land.”

“I do not doubt your consideration. However, as her brother, I wish for more happiness for my sister as a woman.”

“I can understand that, but there is a lack of certainty in such things. What kind of marriage specifically do you wish for her to have?”

“A marriage to a country worthy of the first princess of Uppasala, to a man suitable for her, who will shelter her, which will bring about benefit to both countries,” he answered firmly.

While that answer was itself somewhat ambiguous, it gave Aura a bargaining point.

“A man who will shelter her. I see. While the majority of women would wish for a man on equal footing, would you not say that Princess Freya does not fall under the majority?”

Oddly enough, that was exactly what Zenjirou had pointed out in Uppasala. Eric seemed displeased, frowning and retorting with a question of his own.

“You would call her abnormal? What basis do you have for saying so?”

Aura was slightly taken aback by the question. “Basis or not, it is the simple truth. We had a ceremony for Marshal Pujol recently. My husband attended as my representative, as I could not leave the capital, but Princess Freya volunteered herself as his partner. Is it not clear that a woman requesting to accompany a man to a wedding would find happiness in that man taking her under his wing?”

There was a long pause, Eric’s expression freezing.

“Pardon?”

The question was not purposeful, but soft and almost unconscious, like it had simply slipped out as his mouth dropped open. That was just how shocking the information was to him.

Freya asking to act as Zenjirou’s partner, in public no less. It was—to him—an unthinkably shameless act. And yet, Aura had just told him that Freya had done exactly that.

Unskilled with subterfuge to begin with, Eric asked plainly, “Ah, you mentioned it being in public. Were you present as well, Your Majesty?”

“Of course I was. It was the banquet to welcome her. It would have been decidedly rude for me to be absent.” She smiled.

Eric wanted nothing more than to hold his head in his hands and yell.

Freyaaaa!

He was going to lecture her until she cried when he got back. As his anger towards her reached its peak, the shame and integrity of his own values prompted guilt and shame that eclipsed that.

She had asked, at a party that was to welcome her, for Zenjirou to take her to a wedding—in front of his wife, Queen Aura. That went past the point of mere eccentricity. In fact, from his perspective, he found it hard to believe that either Aura or Zenjirou had accepted it.

“Was there anyone other than Freya from our country present as well?”

“The only other guest from Uppasala would have been Lady Skaji, although I imagine the others would at least have heard about it.”

“Is that so?” Eric asked, his voice dead as his final hope was dashed.

Skaji had been present, and while the sailors hadn’t witnessed it personally, they all knew of the circumstances. That meant there was no way of hiding that these marriage talks had begun with Freya going off the rails. It would be but days before rumors were spreading through the entirety of Uppasala.

Damn it! There’s no choice now!

It had all been decided from the beginning. That was the only conclusion his values would allow him to reach.

Eric loved his sister. He also had very little understanding of her odd way of thinking and held old-fashioned values of his own. He had wanted her to have a happy marriage based on those values.

Had wanted, past tense. That wish had just been crushed. She had effectively proposed to a foreign royal—and an already married one, at that—in public, asking for him to escort her to a wedding. No one would seriously ask for her hand after such an event. Eric was well aware of that.

In truth, though, he was being overly pessimistic. Given her title as the first princess of a kingdom, there was still a significant probability of someone wanting her for—what he saw as—a “proper” marriage.

Still, Uppasala owed Capua a lot for this. Freya had broken etiquette to ask for a marriage. Zenjirou accepting it and Aura allowing it made it “a slight disturbance.” If Zenjirou had rejected her then, and Aura had cut it all down as rudeness, things would have ended much worse.

They could have said that what happened in Capua would stay in Capua if they were willing to never set foot on the Southern Continent again, but with the possibility of trade on the horizon, he now had to show visible gratitude to the queen and her husband. It would not have been an exaggeration to call Freya’s life over then and there.

He considered it all. The mistake she had made, the difficulty of hiding it, and the best future she could be offered...

“I would like to offer my heartfelt gratitude for accepting my sister to both you and His Majesty.” Eric finally broke, not being able to think of anything better than allowing her to marry Zenjirou as she wished.