Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 13 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 — A Second Marriage

Today in Uppasala, Zenjirou Bilbo Capua—prince consort of Capua—would be wed to the country’s first princess.

About a month had passed since he had completed the Rite of Age—an incredibly short time. However, Zenjirou had no concerns on that front. Then again, there was no doubt that he had been the absolute busiest person during the past month.

Zenjirou was one of the only two people in this world who could move under his own power between the Northern and Southern Continents via teleportation. Therefore, he had traveled between the two countries over and over.

Retrieving Eric from Capua was the first of it. Then he had sent a diplomat to Uppasala and brought another back from Uppasala to Capua. Of course, that was far from the last of it. He had been back and forth several more times to enable each diplomat to understand their own countries’ positions.

The rapid transitions between the two nations so different in climate had interfered with his body’s temperature regulation and made him somewhat ill, even. His fever wouldn’t abate even at night, and he found himself unable to sleep despite his exhaustion. Conversely, he was having to focus all of his energy on resisting huge yawns during his daytime work. It was likely some flaw in the switching of his sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. Despite that—and his occasional complaints—he had fulfilled his role, fortunately enough. It was a role that could literally only have been accomplished by him. There was no substitute who could take over.

As far as the trade deal was concerned, it had been established to be solely between the Capua and Uppasala families, but the diplomats would decide the specifics at a later date. The same was not true of the marriage to Freya. The acceleration of the agreement had shifted the burden onto the only person capable of traveling between the two countries.

All that meant that while Zenjirou was going to be a full participant in the ceremony itself, he had been unable to truly understand how the ceremony would progress until the day came. The sole thing he already knew about was his outfit. That had needed to be fitted to him, so he had been required to attend in person. Freya’s clothing and fitting had all been carried out in a separate room, so today would be the first time he saw her in her bridal outfit. The bride and groom were seeing each other for the first time in the antechamber today.

“Your Majesty Zenjirou.”

“Princess Freya?”

Zenjirou’s response to the girl calling his name was an unsure question. There was no one else she could be, and she had sounded exactly like he remembered when she called his name, and her features themselves were the now-familiar sight he was used to. But she was wearing a wedding dress that was mainly white, along with a lace veil patterned after falcon feathers. The belt around her waist had decorations on it made of gold, and the several necklaces around her neck were made of the same.

Falcons and gold were considered charms for marriage in the northern countries of the continent. All of that combined meant that this was definitely his bride, and Freya. However, his lack of confidence was due to her hairstyle.

She seemed to notice his gaze on her hair because she offered a mischievous laugh. “Oh, this? It is a wig. It was made from the hair I had cut when I became captain of the Glasir’s Leaf.”

As she spoke, she spun around, showing the entire ensemble.

Indeed, she did not have the short-cut hair that Zenjirou was used to. If it was loose, the long silver hair would likely have reached the middle of her back. It had been carefully braided up into a bun, though. It was a perfect hairstyle for the big moment of marriage and was clearly the product of much effort.

“It suits you well, Your Highness. Just as well as your usual hairstyle, I would say.”

The praise was honest, but he remembered that her normal hairstyle was the one she had chosen along with her way of life, so he hurriedly added the extra sentence.

Freya giggled at his clumsy praise and pitched her voice somewhat teasingly. “Thank you; you seem stronger than usual in that outfit as well.”

“That is hardly praise,” he retorted with an exaggerated frown.

Freya poked her tongue out slightly before laughing. His outfit as a groom was—succinctly put—highly decorated armor. It was metal at its base, with fur and gold adorning it. This was the traditional wedding garb for Uppasalan royalty and high nobility. There were two swords of differing sizes hanging from his waist. Both were gorgeous ceremonial swords, but as with most blades in Uppasala, they would stand up to actual use as well.

The outfit as a whole was almost normal for a groom in Uppasala. However, the second sword was something he had put quite an effort into having.

As Freya’s teasing implied, the outfit could not be said to suit him in the slightest. So much so that any compliment was more of a lie than anything. The armor and swords hanging on his frame were too heavy, so a duck would probably have beaten him in a footrace. He would have been far more likely to escape something wearing just his T-shirt and jeans than an outfit this heavy. Wearing all this just strengthened the respect he had for the warriors who would be able to wear it while running around the battlefield.

As the conversation progressed, there came a knock at the door.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness. The preparations are in order. Please enter.”

The two of them exchanged looks without even intending to.

“Your hand, Your Majesty?”

“Of course.” Freya softly took his hand in her own.

He escorted his new bride quietly out of the antechamber. The wedding was taking place in a courtyard.

While it was not the case in Capua, it was fairly common in animistic countries for weddings to be held outside. The spirits governed nature, so out in the open air where that nature was present was considered perfect for the holy unions of families.

Of course, “outside” or not, this was the royal palace and the wedding was between two royals. The tables set up atop the lawn were covered in pure white tablecloths, and the chairs for the guests were all polished to a sheen, without a single sign of dirt.

It was early summer, early in the afternoon. The cool breeze made Zenjirou feel a slight chill on his skin due to being used to the intense heat of Capua. He escorted Freya past the applauding guests. He felt himself nearly falling into the same pace he had used when marrying Aura, but consciously sped up so he was in the lead.

During that first wedding, he had been so nervous that he could barely remember how to put one foot in front of the other. In comparison, he was doing far better this time and was able to not only act as Freya’s escort, but cast his gaze over the assembly of people.

While part of it was due to this being the second time, which meant he was more used to it, his nerves had been eased by managing to get through the life-risking voyage to this country and passing the Rite of Age.

Considering that, he focused himself again. Forgetting his cowardice despite his lack of strength and acting more boldly would cause more harm than good.

Eventually, the two of them reached the seating for the bride and groom on the stage at the front. As they stood next to each other, the area fell silent. The arrangements made meant that Zenjirou would be the next one to act.

He glanced at Freya to his side, and she gave him the slightest nod of agreement. Now knowing that his memory wasn’t incorrect, he used his left hand to hold the sword’s sheath tightly and his right to carefully draw the blade. He held it high into the sky, where it gleamed in the sunlight.

He then took a deep breath and proclaimed as loudly as possible, “My name is Zenjirou. I, Zenjirou Bilbo Capua, will be bound in marriage to Freya Uppasala and pledge to bring her joy and love throughout our partnership. In the name of the spirits of wind, earth, water, and fire.”

Following that, Freya’s left hand rested atop Zenjirou’s right as he held the sword aloft. “My name is Freya. I, Freya Uppasala will be bound in marriage to Zenjirou Bilbo Capua as Freya Alcott Capua and pledge to respect and love him throughout our partnership. In the name of the spirits of wind, earth, water, and fire.”

Freya Alcott Capua would be her new name. Alcott was the name of an uninhabited coastal region farther south than Valentia. The past month of negotiations had resulted in an agreement that she would be afforded the territory and the title of duchess with which to rule it. There would eventually be a port and shipyard there, but the timescale and budget still had yet to be settled. For the time being, the initial shipbuilding for intercontinental travel would be done in Valentia. When and what scale the port and shipyard in Alcott would be would depend on future negotiations.

With the vows exchanged, the guests began to applaud and stamp their feet to celebrate the union. There was no one priestly looking to preside over the ceremony as a whole. Uppasala had shamans who led ceremonies, but the normal method for a wedding in Uppasala was for the newlyweds to make their vows directly to the spirits. Therefore, if taken to the extreme, their wedding could be said to be complete. However, long tradition added more to any ceremony.

The two sat down in their chairs on the stage, and a man from the bride’s family stood. He was a young, impressively built man clad in gleaming armor. This was the first prince of the country, Eric Estridsen Uppasala.

Zenjirou glanced at his new wife in surprise at the change of plans to see the same surprise mirrored in her own blue orbs. Apparently, this was a shock to both of them. Normally, it would have been Gustav who stood here, not Eric. The small golden hammer that the king would usually have held was in Eric’s hand, so it would appear that he was to carry out the role that his father would ordinarily have done.

Freya offered a resigned smile. While Zenjirou knew there was nothing to be done now, he still felt unease at having Eric carry out the role. He had not thought the strife between them had been fully solved.

There would be no resisting it now, though. Zenjirou centered himself and watched Eric make his way up to the stage with the metal hammer in hand. The prince stopped first in front of Freya and softly brought the hammer down towards her dainty shoulders.

“May misfortune vanish from her path,” he said as the metal tapped her shoulder.

The golden hammer was a weapon of myth in Uppasalan tradition. It was tiny, sticking out of its wielder’s hand, about the same size as his fist. The legends said that despite its size, it was terrifyingly powerful. It was also supposed to have the ability to destroy evil and misfortune. Therefore, there was a custom for a man of the bride’s family to strike both bride and groom with it to ward off calamity from their married life.

It went without saying that this particular piece was a replica, although replica or not, it was made of gold and very real in that sense. Of course, it was also extremely heavy.

Eric then stood in front of Zenjirou and swung it down again. The twist of a smile Zenjirou saw on his face was most certainly not a trick of the light. Indeed, the hammer made a completely different noise when it struck him, and there was a dull pain in his collarbone.

“May misfortune vanish from his path.”

Despite the pain, it was not enough to cause an injury, so it was a small piece of revenge from the prince.

“Look after Freya, brother-in-law,” he said with a fierce grin. Immediately afterwards, his expression took on a hint of chagrin. “It would seem I did indeed eventually call you brother like you initially said. Your insight is a sight to behold,” he added before lifting his massive shoulders in a shrug.

“The understanding of the Uppasalan royal family is an honor to have. Of course, I am rather proud of the effort I put in to receive it.” Zenjirou straightened and threw his shoulders back as he spoke, speaking of his own achievements himself. He had gotten somewhat more used to this way of doing things and his gaze slipped down to where Eric had just been sitting.

The table he was sitting at was home to various members of the royal family. They included Gustav, Eric, and Yngvi, all of whom Zenjirou had been introduced to. There was also a woman who looked to be in her forties and another about a decade younger, as well as two girls who were not yet of age and another boy. There was also an elderly woman.

In order, they were Second Queen Felicia, Third Queen Matilda, Second Princess Gerda, Third Princess Hilda, Third Prince Carl, and Queen Mother Gunnel. The underage princesses and princes—along with the already retired queen mother—not being part of official functions was only natural. However, the lack of participation by Felicia and Matilda was due to the late first queen.

Felicia and Matilda were influential nobles in Uppasala, but the late queen was a former princess of Ofus. Her only child, Eric, with circumstances being what they were, had held a place in Ofus’s succession rather than just Uppasala’s.

To avoid any implication to Ofus that Eric was being slighted now that he had lost the shield of his birth mother, Gustav had not raised either Felicia or Matilda to be first queen. Therefore, there were significant restrictions on both of them when they were in public.

Of course, there were no problems with unofficial meetings, so Zenjirou had actually met with Freya’s mother repeatedly. Enough so that she had made him promise to address her as his mother-in-law during the marriage. However, this was the first time he was seeing Matilda.

While Zenjirou was looking at the table of royals, Eric had finished his ceremony and was moving back to the table. The next part of the ceremony would be the meal.

Waiters ferried roast boar and goat to the tables one after another. The wind carried the juicy scent of meat up to Zenjirou, and he felt his mouth begin to water as he stood.

“Your Highness.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Freya followed suit, standing and allowing him to take her arm to lead her down from the stage.

Cutting the main dish—the meat—was the groom’s duty. That was why the groom had to have a usable sword for a wedding ceremony. Naturally, commoners’ weddings with few attendees were one thing, but for a royal wedding, the groom would never manage to cut portions for everyone. Therefore it was custom for the groom to only cut the royal guests’. All of the rest would just be nicked with the sword before being taken to the others.

The first to receive a portion would usually be the groom’s family. Unfortunately, he had no relatives here. You could perhaps argue the Capuan guests would count, but they were simple diplomats and guards, along with the maids who were sitting to rest up. They were there because it would be an issue to have no one to fill the role of family at a royal wedding, but prioritizing them was another matter.

It was therefore Freya’s parents who they headed for first. In other words, the royal seats.

“We shall begin with the serving, then,” he said once they arrived. He drew the smaller sword at his waist, and then passed it to Freya.

The king let out a chuckle—already aware of the plan—while Eric just remained silent and aghast. Yngvi practically cackled, but quietly enough that it wouldn’t be heard.

“He really did it.”

The other guests, who had not known, could not hide their shock as they stirred. The particularly observant had noticed that Zenjirou was carrying two blades, but no one had even dreamed that one was for his wife.

He ignored the murmurings as he drew the other sword for himself.

This was the actual reason for carrying two swords. While it was fundamentally a role for the groom, it was now something they were doing as a couple. Serving meat to guests was a male’s right in general. The exception was for female warriors who hunted the meat themselves. By going out of his way to split the role with Freya, he was announcing to the country that their marriage would not be a normal one as Uppasala knew it. Part of it was also the rather pathetic reasoning of not thinking he’d be able to cut the meat for everyone with a sword. He had more or less been considered minimally competent in the past month.

His smile remained in place, but his clumsy movements were enough to earn titters from the other guests as he sliced the meat before moving on to the rest.

While Zenjirou was dealing with the meat on the guest plates, Freya approached the roast boar and sliced some off. It was—even being as polite as possible—the difference between night and day. Freya had suggested that she could purposefully take more time than him during the rehearsal, but Zenjirou had refused. Splitting the role was telling the assembled people that Freya was not a normal princess, and this was not a normal marriage. Using it to prop the groom up was very much undermining that.

That said, they could not be entirely equal, so the meat Zenjirou cut went to the more highly ranked guests. The first plate went to his new father-in-law.

“I had never expected the chance to eat food provided by my son-in-law here,” he said.

“It is an honor, father-in-law,” Zenjirou replied with a small smile.

It was slightly unclear, but the king was thanking Zenjirou. “Son-in-law” didn’t refer specifically to him, but to any man marrying one of his daughters. “Here” referred to Valaskjálf.

Unlike the Southern Continent, Uppasala had many marriages abroad for royalty, so very few of their princesses would be married in their own country. The norm was for the wedding to take place in the country the woman was marrying into, which in turn meant that it would be difficult for Gustav to leave to attend, given his position as king.

Despite that, thanks to Zenjirou, he had been able to attend his daughter’s wedding and he was thanking the man for it.

“The Southern Continent is distant. All I can do is sit on my distant throne and pray for her happiness.”

There was an unspoken request to look after Freya on its way to actually being spoken, so Zenjirou took the initiative before the king could finish.

“I know that you have given us leave to use one of the annexes as an embassy. With a strong position, I can promise to ensure that Princess Freya can temporarily return twice a year.”

He had already used the camera there, so the distance between Capua and Uppasala was nothing to Zenjirou. Sending Freya to the country wouldn’t require him to travel, but retrieving her would. Still, if needed, he could ensure Freya could return to Uppasala once a month.

Realizing the reality of the matter, Gustav pressed his finger and thumb to his brow and sighed. “Capua is so nearby.” Physical distance aside, the king’s words were completely true in terms of travel time.

Zenjirou then followed by placing meat on Eric’s plate. The prince thanked him and speared the meat with his fork to hold it up.

“I have attended many weddings, but never before have I seen the groom so cack-handed with a sword.”

The meat had taken several attempts, so there were lines of ragged meat along the cut, and spots where juice had oozed out as he crushed the meat’s fibers. Zenjirou was well aware of that even without Eric pointing it out. Therefore, all he could do was offer a rueful smile.

“My apologies for the poor showing,” he said.

“I had the honor of receiving some instruction from Marshal Pujol while I was in Capua. It was truly worthwhile, and if he had been born in our lands, I have little doubt he would now be called Thor. Do you truly have no intention of taking advantage of such a person’s presence in your lands?” His tone was more envious than critical. The prince seemed to have truly taken a liking to the marshal.

“Indeed.” Zenjirou’s answer was almost unbelievably dismissive in the prince’s estimation. “Even if I spent the year getting some smattering of swordplay, that is all it would be. The extra hesitation it could cause would possibly even be more of a detriment.”

Even if he put in the effort to learn how to use a weapon and increase his stamina, his abilities would not amount to much. If he gained some combat ability, he would now have the “fight” option as well as “flight” and be slower to make the decision, which he saw as a disadvantage. After all, Zenjirou was the prince consort of Capua. Expecting him to be skilled enough against anyone who would be coming for his life was too much to ask for.

“That is a waste. I cannot understand it,” Eric said honestly.

All Zenjirou could do was laugh it off. While he was serving the men, Freya had been dealing with Gunnel, Felicia, and Matilda. From her perspective, Gunnel would be her grandmother, while Felicia was her actual mother. They seemed very close, and with the older views they both had, they were currently scolding her for acting like a man and serving guests.

Of course, it was an occasion of celebration, so neither of them could be too harsh here, but both were still lecturing her to the extent they could. Even so, Freya didn’t stop using the sword to slice the meat, and her face was still in an open smile. She must have been feeling both overjoyed and accomplished at being able to fulfill a role allowed only to men in the palace she had grown up in, in front of the royals she had spent her life with.

Seeing that, Zenjirou let out a soft breath of relief that his insight had not been wrong. He had constantly been worried that he might be overstepping the mark.

Yngvi laughed as he watched the thoughts shifting under his expression.

“My apologies,” Zenjirou said as the younger prince looked his way, only noticing now that he had paused. He placed a slice of the boar on Yngvi’s plate as well.

“Thank you. This and mead is what definitely makes a wedding.” The young prince picked up a metal cup of mead as he spoke. Despite his dainty appearance, he was quite the drinker.

Mead made in the traditional way was a must for all auspicious occasions. Not just in Uppasala, but in all the northern countries of the continent. It still had the sweet scent of the honey, but wasn’t at all bad tasting. It had a similar taste to beer, but beer meant Japan to Zenjirou. Beer here didn’t include hops, so it was less bitter and easier to drink, but not quite enough for him. The mead here was similar to this world’s beer.

“I must say that you certainly are a diligent individual, Your Highness. You have learned and used our country’s manners in such a short space of time. I shall have to learn from your example,” the prince said with a meaningful look up at him.

Zenjirou had already heard about the younger prince’s desire to take a concubine from Capua to strengthen their ties.

“That is quite the praise. My thanks. If you get such an opportunity, I would be delighted to help.”

“Right, I’ll look forward to your assistance should the time come.”

While Zenjirou didn’t know if it would really happen, it seemed evident that the prince, at least, was serious about it. However, the Northern Continent had a tendency to look down on the Southern Continent, so it would depend on to what extent the prince could protect any concubine, and on that concubine having the constitution to live in another country. Until they knew that, it would be impossible to make any promises.

“Of course, if the time comes,” Zenjirou repeated, brushing the topic aside.

Afterwards, he put meat on Carl’s plate while Freya did the same for Gerda and Hilda. Their role at that table was now complete.

This was Zenjirou’s first meeting with the children. Carl had soft brown hair that grabbed attention, with a well-balanced face. He didn’t seem to even be ten years old, yet, but Zenjirou saw him looking perhaps like one of the higher-year students in an elementary school. The difference in race made him seem older to Zenjirou, but the bigger reason was his height. He was already just as tall as Freya, a hundred and sixty centimeters tall. Then again, his half brother was over a hundred and ninety centimeters, and his father was in the latter half of the one eighties. Taking into account that he would likely grow to a similar height, it was no real surprise he was so tall. In fact, Yngvi—who was just slightly taller than Zenjirou—and Freya—who was about average for a Japanese woman—were probably far more unusual.

Either way, with the first table being dealt with, the two headed to the others. The next one they went for was another of the royal tables. It was home to those of a slightly lower rank: the king’s cousins and second cousins, along with their children.

Zenjirou remembered many of them from the audiences in the palace. He put a slice of meat on the table, and Freya put another over the top of it, forming a cross.

This was all they would be doing for the rest of the tables. However, it would be far too rude to leave immediately, so the two of them received their blessings from the branch royals at the table. Freya—naturally—seemed to recognize all of them. There were the usual comments about not expecting it to happen so soon, her outfit suiting her, and particularly the blade in her hand suiting her.

It was the first time Zenjirou was meeting most of them. There were no real topics of conversation for them. Therefore, most of them said something along the lines of a generic congratulations or asking him to take care of Freya.

The exception was a middle-aged man who grinned. “Your assistance with my son was appreciated. He has a somewhat wider outlook now.”

Zenjirou tilted his head in question slightly, whereupon Freya whispered that this was the father of the youngest of the warriors who had been with him for his rite. Considering he had been the source of most of the mockery, Zenjirou remembered him well.

The father was a middle-aged man who was barely royalty, while his son was just a noble with no place in succession. Zenjirou panicked internally at the knowledge that the young man had been a higher noble than he had expected. He worried for a second that this gratefulness for his “assistance” was more of a snide remark, but the man’s expression only implied a genuineness to his words.

“I am honored that I could assist in any small way with his growth,” Zenjirou answered, knowing there was no way he would be able to read into an accomplished noble’s expression. All he could do was take the words in the way they had been said.

After the royal and branch royal table, the tables of visiting nobles were next.

Uppasala’s status as one of the minority countries practicing animism meant that they had limited diplomatic ties, but there were still a reasonable number of countries that would send guests to royal weddings.

Ofus, Tuurukku, Berggen, and Utgard were—along with Uppasala—known as the Northern Five. Each of them was part of that same religious minority; they had the same kind of culture, so there were, of course, seats for each of them. The three countries other than Utgard had royals or similarly high-level nobility present. Utgard’s place alone remained empty, but that was par for the course.

There were others as well: the Red and White Dragon Kingdoms—which had churches of their own and so were a step removed from “the church.” There was also a table for the Kingdom of Graz, a country that maintained diplomatic ties regardless of religious beliefs. Additionally, there was a table for Złota Wolność, which had religious freedom in state policy. Those four countries were somewhat removed from Uppasala, so they had not sent particularly high-ranking nobles.

While Zenjirou and Freya went between those tables to give their greetings, Zenjirou had the surprise of seeing a familiar set of faces. They were among the guests from Złota Wolność.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, congratulations on your wedding.”

“Congratulations.”

The words came from a young couple—one of the Husaria of Złota Wolność, Eugeniusz Horszowski, and his wife Teresa.

Zenjirou replied, showing his surprise at meeting the two again after Pomorskie. “My, Lord Eugeniusz, Lady Teresa. I never would have expected the commonwealth to send you as emissaries.”

“It has been a while, though perhaps not that long,” Freya commented. “It is good to see you both again.”

While the two of them had only met the couple once during the victory party, they had left a good impression, so they easily slipped into conversation.

“I must say, I was surprised by your marriage,” Teresa said. “Though the marriage itself certainly seemed like a matter of time, the time it took was shockingly short.”

“Ah...did we really seem like that?” Freya asked, oddly embarrassed for once and letting her gaze drift away.

With the conversation flowing, Zenjirou offered his own congratulations due to some news that he’d heard recently. “That reminds me, Tannenwald is worth celebrating as well. Allow me to offer my congratulations for the commonwealth’s victory.”

It being overseas meant that they were unaware of the details, but there seemed to be no doubt that the battle between the commonwealth and the knights had ended in victory for the former. In which case, it would be less polite not to mention it.

Indeed, Eugeniusz straightened proudly at his words.

“Of course! Your assistance and Princess Anna’s command saw us safely through their attack. I was able to gain some measure of success personally as well, so I was rather relieved to uphold the honor of the Husaria.”

“Oh? You participated personally? Considering you contributed to your country’s success, I feel the need to do more than just offer a word of congratulations. I would like to host you for a meal at some point; what say you?” Zenjirou was honestly surprised by the man’s claim and quickly suggested a meal. He was not going to let the chance to speak with someone who had just participated in a major conflict on the continent slip through his fingers.

However, the event currently taking place was one of celebrating a marriage—his marriage, in fact. He was the guest of honor, so he had a limited amount of time to spend with a single guest.

“Well, I shall be staying within the palace for a while, so I would be happy to take you up on your offer if it is before I leave.”

“Very well. I shall arrange it.”

With the agreement in place, they left the commonwealth’s table.

The next while was spent visiting the other tables. The conversations at each were mostly inoffensive—or, depending on how rude you wished to be, a waste of time. There was food laid out on the empty table for Utgard as well, so the two cut small crosses into the reindeer meat.

The whole thing had become routine by the time they reached Ofus’s table, but that was where things changed. The delegation from Ofus was the largest present. So much so that their representative was a fully-fledged royal with a place in succession.

The man in question was in his thirties, and his attention was more on the table where Eric sat than on the newlyweds, even as the conversation took place. Despite his lack of insight into this kind of thing, it was obvious even to Zenjirou.

The man started out offering his congratulations to them but rather forcefully shifted the topic to Eric. It was nothing to hide, and in fact, seemed something worth sharing, as Freya considered the future relationship between their countries, so she obliged him.

“Indeed, my brother...” she began, discussing things with the man.

“Oh? I see, so Prince Eric said such a thing?”

“He did. You will have to ask him personally for any specific details. Fortunately, he is present here.”

“I shall do so. However, it is still worth discussing such things with others around the person in question.”

Eric was only a short distance away while the conversation was taking place. Although he might have been the grandson of their current king, the royalty of Ofus perhaps held themselves back. They were simultaneously welcoming of his presence and wary. The stance they were taking seemed almost familiar, in fact. The others at the table seemed to hold that simultaneous respect and hostility as well as welcome and wariness—albeit to different extents for each of them.

One of them held himself differently, though. He was an aging noble with gray hair—both on top of his head and on his face. His build was still that of a powerful warrior. His attention was focused not on Eric but in another direction, and he seemed to have been trying to broach a conversation with Zenjirou for a while.

“Is something bothering you?” Zenjirou asked, noticing his behavior.

The man focused himself before speaking. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty. I am Kevin, a warrior of Ofus. First, allow me to congratulate you on your marriage.”

“Thank you, Sir Kevin.”

Zenjirou’s response and general demeanor made it obvious to the warrior that he was not about to drop the topic, so he continued.

“I beg your pardon for the rather abrupt question, but am I correct in thinking that the people at that table are from your homeland of Capua?” he asked, gesturing.

“They are?” Zenjirou replied, keeping his tone questioning to see where the man was going.

“Well, if you will excuse me for saying so, there is someone rather dissimilar in appearance to yourself with that taken into account. That blonde woman.”

The man’s tone was deadly serious, but the question he asked seemed almost jarringly simple. Zenjirou had tensed up over the course of the conversation but found himself relaxing.

“Ah, she is not actually from Capua. She is from another country on the Southern Continent, the Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle.”

He followed that up with an explanation of how the country was descended from migrants from the Northern Continent, which in turn had led to their appearance remaining similar to those from the north. The other man slumped at that.

“I see. So the two of them are from this ‘Twin Kingdoms.’”

“Two of them?”

Zenjirou turned to look at that comment and then noticed. There were actually two blondes at the Capuan table. One of them was Lucretia Broglie from the Twin Kingdoms, while the other was Zenjirou’s maid, Margarette. She was there to fill out the numbers, so she was not wearing her maid uniform but a dress Zenjirou had brought via teleportation, and she blended in with Lucretia and her maid at a glance.

“No, Margarette is not. She is from Capua.”

As far as Zenjirou was concerned, he was simply correcting a slight misunderstanding. The other man’s reaction was far more dramatic, however.

“Margarette? That is her real name? I-Is that a common name in your homeland? Are there many people with her hair and eye color? Are her parents well? If they are, are they her parents by birth?”

“Sir Kevin?”

The barrage of questions had pulled Zenjirou’s wariness back to its highest point and he was almost glaring back at the warrior. Naturally, the others in the area had noticed the interaction.

“Lord Kevin.”

“Sir Kevin, this is a celebration.”

“Are you truly losing yourself here of all places?”

“You had calmed significantly until now.”

It seemed the general chiding from the other people at the table made the man realize how rude he was being, so he calmed himself down.

“Begging your pardon for my rudeness, Your Majesty. I truly apologize.”

The warrior practically prostrated himself in apology, actually making himself appear much smaller. Zenjirou was somewhat taken aback, but simply dismissing it all as a misunderstanding would not truly be managing the crisis.

“We are enjoying an event with some drinks. A little rudeness is part of the entertainment. However, this sounds rather intriguing. If you wish to apologize, perhaps you would discuss this with me at a later date?”

The man’s eyes gleamed at the suggestion, while his compatriots had somewhat sour looks.

“W-Would that Lady Margarette be present too?”

“She will have work,” Zenjirou refuted him curtly as the man seized the opportunity. His main goal was to ensure that no harm would befall her, so he wouldn’t have her present.

“Very well. Perhaps we could even meet tomorrow.”

“Indeed.”

With the agreement in place, Zenjirou took Freya’s hand and left the table.

“Kevin, do ensure you keep your manners,” he heard as they moved on.

“I will.”

There were no major problems after that, and they finished visiting each of the rest of the tables. With the slicing of the meat completed, there was nothing in particular he now had to do.

The guests moved around freely. Some took refills of drinks while others reached out for food. Someone started playing an instrument that they had brought while others sang and danced. Still others began crossing blades.

It was awfully unfortunate, but it was an unwritten rule that the groom must participate in this last custom. Unsurprisingly, as soon as he had fulfilled the bare minimum of his duties as the groom, Zenjirou turned tail and left.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Several days had passed since the wedding had taken place. Those days were just as busy for Zenjirou as the initial run-up to the event. He had the meetings he had arranged during the wedding with both Eugeniusz and Kevin. Once he had the information from them, he swiftly returned to Capua via teleportation.

None of the information Kevin had given him was particularly worthwhile. It was utterly useless and without a shred of credibility. However, it was all but impossible to completely refute it. Considering the influence it could hold, they would need to take precautions. That was how much of a bother it could be.

He also had information from Eugeniusz about the battle of Tannenwald. Zenjirou’s opinions on how important maintaining information would be led to Aura now standing in a building on the Northern Continent—the new Capuan Embassy in Uppasala.

“Welcome, Your Majesty,” Ines greeted her with a placid expression, followed by the others who had departed from Capua on the Glasir’s Leaf. The only person missing was Zenjirou.

That was hardly a surprise, though. Zenjirou had just sent her here through teleportation, after all.

“Thank you. I will be returning soon, so refreshments will be unnecessary.”

“Of course.” The maid nodded slightly.

“So this is the Northern Continent,” Aura mused, peering around in interest before shivering. “It certainly is cold.”

A native of the area would think they had misheard. They were in the middle of summer, after all. However, “summer” on the Northern Continent took place at the same time as the Blazing Season on the Southern Continent. It was therefore almost inevitable that she would feel that the northern summer was cold, having just left the Southern Continent moments ago.

“No one from Uppasala enters this room?” Aura asked meaningfully.

Ines’s soft tone didn’t change as she agreed. “Indeed. Sir Zenjirou negotiated with King Gustav that no one from outside of Capua would enter the building without permission.”

“Good.”

Satisfied with the answer, Aura spent a while silently changing her position and intensely surveying the room, as if burning it into her mind. Once she was confident, she spoke again.

“I will be leaving again now. It should go without saying, but this visit is classified.”

“We understand.”

Aura nodded in satisfaction. “I will be sending my husband back later. He will be in your care then.”

With her piece said, the queen cast the teleportation spell—with considerably greater familiarity than Zenjirou—and vanished into thin air.

Zenjirou had been waiting on a sofa in the inner palace when he looked to the side. His wife had suddenly appeared there, having been completely absent until that point.

“Welcome home, Aura,” he said.

“It is good to be back again.”

He stood from his seat to greet his wife on her return from the Northern Continent. It had been perhaps a dozen or so minutes since he had sent her there. Zenjirou had agreed due to knowing that there wasn’t even a one-in-a-million chance that something would go wrong, but he still let out a sigh of relief when he saw her safely returned.

They sat down on opposite sofas and he asked the first question. “You seem like everything went fine, but you didn’t bump into anyone from Uppasala, did you?”

“I did not. Outside of our people, no one saw me throughout the entire journey,” she replied.

Indeed, as their conversation implied, the visit Aura had made was not something that Uppasala was aware of and was effectively illegal entry into the country. They might have been given an area for an embassy, but they had still entered a foreign royal palace without its king’s permission. It would be quite the piece of leverage if discovered. However, it was worth the risk.

“Now I can send people to the palace as well.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big thing if it comes to it.”

Currently, there was an unthinkable amount of both people and things moving between the two countries for Freya’s relocation and the information that went along with it. Zenjirou had taken on the entire burden thus far, but now—at least for one leg of the journey—Aura could help. Fundamentally, they were sending Capuans to the embassy, so if they insisted on silence, the Uppasalans wouldn’t find out.

“It’s not something we can really sneak around with, though,” Zenjirou added. “We should get permission for a visit for you at some point so you can be more proactive about sending people.”

The queen nodded in agreement. “Indeed. We should eventually, yes. The way we are doing things now is effectively illegal. However, it will have to be after the situation has calmed.”

Zenjirou knew she was correct. Even an unofficial visit from a monarch to another country would require preparations on the destination’s side. Considering how busy things were now, it would just invite further displeasure.

Unlike Aura, Zenjirou could only use teleportation twice a day. Magic tool or not, using up both of them was not something they wanted. During the Rite of Age, there had been no real choice, but most of the time, he would be keeping enough mana for at least one cast whenever he was away from the palace. Therefore, Zenjirou had always stayed at least the night every time he had come back to Capua.

But things would be different now. Zenjirou could teleport himself to Capua, and Aura could send him back. Doing that meant that even if both legs of the trip were in the same day, he would still have his emergency teleport. He could come home and go back within a day without that restriction.

“Well then, I need to head back today, so let’s get to the discussion. The marriage is done with now. Freya is officially my concubine. We don’t need to have a ceremony here as well, do we?”

“No,” Aura answered with a smile. “Congratulations. Also, thank you, Zenjirou. We now have a long-awaited intercontinental trade route of our own. We will not have a ceremony here as well since you had one there. We will have a banquet to announce it or something similar. My attending would be unbelievably crass, so only you and Princess Freya will be there.”

“Ugh, that sounds annoying. All right, though, I’ll do my best. That’s everything to do with the wedding, then. I’ll be sending people from tomorrow, will that work?”

She nodded confidently in response.

“It will. The inner palace already has an annex prepared for her use.”

“Princess Freya, Skaji, and any additional maids aside, what else? We have others as a priority as well, the shipwrights and shipyard leaders, as well as the smith Völundr.”

“‘Völundr’ was the same as ‘Skaji,’ no? A name given with meaning?” Aura asked, her eyes gleaming.

“Yeah. It’s the name given to the greatest smith in the country. Well, not quite. There was a longer period without someone holding the name than the opposite, so it means even more than that.”

“So a person who is a national asset. I suppose the old man would be the same.”

“The old man” referred to none other than the head of the imperial mages, Espiridion. In fact, when he was young, Tucale had offered a literal fortune to try and poach him. A mage and a smith were not the same thing, but they were doubtless both the kinds of people you would not carelessly send to another land.

“Why is a person of his ilk coming here?”

“It’s apparently his own desire. He’s of a fair age and has served his country well so far. He says he wants to use what he has left of his time smithing for his own ambitions.”

“His ambitions?”

“He wants to create a dragon-slaying weapon.”

“I see.” She could accept the official reason, but she was not so foolish as to take it as gospel. “There is more to this,” she commented.

“There is?” Zenjirou asked, already having assumed as much himself.

“Yes. I have no proof, but I am certain.”

Zenjirou tried his best to fulfill his role as her husband, putting his efforts into trying to peer through the schemes in place even though it wasn’t a real skill of his.

“Maybe espionage?” he suggested.

“Does he seem like the kind of person capable of it?”

Zenjirou shook his head. “He looked far from it to me. He seemed more like a real dyed-in-the-wool craftsman.”

“Then likely not. However much talent he has, he has dedicated his life to his craft. It is hard to presume such people also learn subterfuge in that way.”

“Right. Then what do you think it is?”

“I do not know.”

She briefly raised her hands to the side of her head in apparent surrender. Indeed, it was almost impossible to see what lay underneath the king’s decisions with the information they had.

Current smithing techniques were becoming a thing of the past on the Northern Continent, being overtaken by waterwheel-powered blast furnaces. A smith of Völundr’s renown would be an impediment to that switch. It was therefore better to follow his wishes and offer him as a gift to a precious trade partner overseas. Making those leaps from the information they had would make things too easy.

“Well, no matter. We are desperate for smiths, so we should gratefully accept him. The craftsmen are under the palace’s authority for now.”

“Okay. Oh, by the way, Völundr is a picky craftsman, so he makes his furnaces entirely by himself, right down to the stone and bricks.”

“Oh? Which means he may be able to help with glass production. Perhaps he will even be able to give us furnaces that do not break down at the temperatures required.”

“Is that still going the same way? We’ve managed to make the marbles at least, right?”

“We have, but we are still needing to rebuild the furnaces as we burn them out. That limits our numbers.”

Which meant that the next breakthrough would be furnaces that could stand up to high temperatures. Things were gradually progressing. Once the process was in place, they could start negotiating in truth with the Sharou family.

“Once you have had time to recuperate on your return, I will need you to go to the Twin Kingdoms and bring back the former king.”

The former king was Bruno III, the man who had been on the throne when Zenjirou had met him. There was a blatant scowl on his face at the reminder of the man who had tried to drag his young son into politics.

“Very well,” he responded after a moment, his logic preventing a refusal.

With the topic mostly finished, they carried on with the discussion.

“There are also two other pieces of information I think you should know about,” he said. “From two people, even. They are Lord Eugeniusz of Złota Wolność and Sir Kevin of Ofus. The information they gave me was...”

He then launched into an explanation of everything he had heard from each of them. As he spoke, Aura’s face was the most serious it had been through the entire meeting.

She first replied with her impressions of the information from Eugeniusz, the more relatively useful one. “I see, so the commonwealth has won the war for now. The mercenary Yan has gained the most fame from it, followed by Princess Anna, who hired him and has overall command of those men. That princess has announced she will usurp the throne.”

As Zenjirou had been concerned, she hadn’t fully understood the events, so he continued his expression with a worried look.

“It’s not an usurpation; she’s officially announced her candidacy for the next election. The country works on an electoral system, so anyone with a place in succession can put their name forward.”

“Hmm?”

She might have been far wiser than Zenjirou, but the basis of her knowledge was too widely different to truly understand an elected monarch. Zenjirou was returning to Uppasala within the day, so he didn’t have too long to really explain.

“For now, let’s just say that she has a legitimate right to become the queen of the country and she’s announced that is her goal. The country hasn’t had a reigning queen before, so it’s unprecedented in that respect. Her victory at Tannenwald has drastically increased her popularity, so a lot of people are for it. However, she won’t necessarily be able to push past her brother with ease and that alone, so she might do something else big.”

“And is that last remark your own opinion?”

He nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

“You have met with her several times and spoken as well. Is your prediction based upon that?”

“It is. She seems likely to do that kind of thing. She definitely has the ability to take the initiative.”

“I see...” The queen fell into silent thought.

The biggest, strongest country in that region of the Northern Continent had won a war with its neighbor and times were changing. She had only seen the photos of the port from the maid on the computer, but it was clearly both bigger and more refined than Valentia. Additionally, the information from Freya had been that the country had at least five ships on a similar scale to the Glasir’s Leaf.

“Perhaps she will come here?” she mused.

Zenjirou jolted. He had seen the country’s size in person. While Pomorskie was only a small part of the whole, he felt like he understood their power and the threat they could pose.

“Do you mean joining in with the trade? Or...”

He hesitated to say what exactly the alternative was. It wasn’t like he actually believed in what the Japanese called kotodama, or ‘the soul of language.’ He knew that just saying something wasn’t enough to make it happen, but it still felt like it might be.

Fortunately, he didn’t actually have to say what he thought for Aura to understand.

“I am unsure. We should prepare for the worst, though.”

“Right,” he replied, the whole thing still not feeling real.

“So, what of the other person?”

“Ah, right. This one’s pretty ridiculous, but I wanted to check to be sure. Aura, how much do you know about Margarette’s origins?”

“Hm? Why would you bring her up? Were we not talking about the warrior from Ofus?”

“We are, but it involves her. Even if it does sound absurd...”

He then relayed the information from the other man, and the conversation dragged on to an almost painful length.