Risou no Himo Seikatsu - Volume 9 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 — Audience

It was noon on the third day since Zenjirou had arrived in the Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle. He was currently walking through one of the two royal palaces that the country boasted: the Purple Egg Palace. It was the seat of the Sharou family’s power.

As the name implied, the palace was covered in the emblematic purple of the family, with an exotic air flowing from its every surface. However, Zenjirou didn’t currently have the wherewithal to inspect his surroundings in that way.

I really am a wreck, he thought to himself. I can feel myself shaking just from breathing.

He was currently clad in his unwieldy first uniform and walking down the palace’s corridors with clearly rigid steps.

His destination? The audience chamber.

Zenjirou was to have his first official audience with the king of the Twin Kingdoms. Asking him to not be nervous would be an impossible request.

He was surrounded by General Pujol and his men. Lucretia led the way as they approached the large double doors. The audience chamber lay behind them.

It was his third year since arriving in this world, and he was finally to meet someone other than his wife, who held a higher station than him. He forced himself to swallow what little saliva his dry mouth could muster.

“Your Majesty, may I?” Lucretia asked him.

“You may. Open the doors.” Thanks to that earlier swallowing, his voice was steady and clear as he replied.

“Excuse me, then.” The blonde—Lucretia—spun on her heel, sending her side-tail fluttering to the side. She then touched what must have been a magic tool to the door’s side and let her mana flow into it.

It must have been a signal. The two doors opened slowly from the inside.

“Now announcing His Majesty from the Kingdom of Capua, Zenjirou Capua!”

The countless nobles inside turned their attention to him, drawn by the statement as he walked along the purple carpet.

“Follow etiquette and just walk” might sound like a simple request. In fact, it was extremely simple in terms of technical requirements. Even a moderately mature child could do so if they were given a week to learn what was required of them.

However, there was the added requirement that it take place while under the scrutiny of foreign nobility and royalty, and that there be absolutely no deviation from what manners dictated. With those conditions, the difficulty skyrocketed.

It was akin to needing to sprint a hundred-meter track with a width of two meters, all while not putting a single step out of line.

Doing so on normal terrain would be hard to screw up, but add sheer drops on either side and all but the most strong-willed of people would be unable to run at full speed. At the very least, an athlete managing to set a new personal best would get sports scientists clamoring to investigate them.

That was how significantly a person’s mental state influenced their capabilities. Even in the kindest terms, Zenjirou’s mental state was at its limit.

Keep your steps shorter than usual and look straight ahead. Don’t let your head drop, and don’t let it rise either...

He was repeating his tutor’s instructions—those given by Lady Octavia—like a mantra. He was all too aware of every muscle, trying to keep each of them under control as he walked.

Once he finally arrived before the throne, Zenjirou stopped and looked up at the king.

So this is the king from the Sharou family, he mused to himself. He looks pretty young to be Francesco’s grandad.

Even with all the tension he was under, those were Zenjirou’s impressions. The man in the throne had gray in his hair and beard, but his physique hadn’t deteriorated in the slightest, and he was sitting ramrod straight in the throne.

Zenjirou had been cramming his head full of what information he could about the Twin Kingdoms. If what he’d learned was true, the king was currently over seventy years old. Zenjirou would have pegged him at about sixty at most, though.

He’s pushing seventy and still on the throne; of course he’d look young. If he was doddering, he’d have abdicated for his son.

As the thought passed through his mind, the king began to speak quietly as he looked down at Zenjirou.

“Well met. I am the king of the Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle, Bruno III. I welcome you to our lands on behalf of the country.”

His voice was strong, showing even less sign of his age than his voice. Zenjirou remained standing and nodded slightly back at him.

“My thanks, Your Majesty. I am Queen Aura of Capua’s spouse, Zenjirou. I am honored by the opportunity to meet you.”

Official audiences like this were about ninety percent set phrases.

“Today is an auspicious day, for royalty to personally visit from a friendly nation.”

“I, too, am blessed with fortune to visit the famed Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle.”

It was an exchange of set phrases rather than thought-out statements. He remembered the line and spoke it. It led to the whole affair feeling more like following a script. Put somewhat harshly, you could say he had let his guard down slightly.

“I pray that you will represent your lands long into the future.”

Mentally, he was already prepared to hear of the king’s appreciation for his hopes. That was why...

“I truly appreciate your words, but I am afraid those prayers will be unanswered.”

The only response he could give to the unforeseen response was a noise of confusion. It was a decidedly bad action to take in public, let alone in front of another nation’s king. Fortunately, though, no one there would fault him for it.

“I have reached a good age, and I believe I will soon be abdicating the throne.”

The various generals and lords assembled in the room all raised their voices in shock as the room descended into disarray.

“Your Majesty?!”

“This is news to us!”

“What in the world?”

“What do you intend for the balance with the Gilbelle Papacy?”

Judging by the shocked questions, Bruno’s declaration was a bolt from the blue to more than just Zenjirou. It had shocked the nobles as well.

Zenjirou kept facing forward but surveyed the room as best he could while only moving his eyes. Everyone was in some state of shock, but he noticed that a man near the throne looked oddly calm. He was in the latter half of his forties and was wearing clothes that were a deep purple. This was a royal from the direct line.

Is this Crown Prince Josep? Prince Francesco’s father and King Bruno’s son would make the ages line up.

If the king abdicated, he would be the next on the throne. There was a distinct possibility that he had informed the crown prince—and no one else—ahead of time.

The tumult continued for a while, but the king raised a hand from his throne for silence and silence fell before too long. With their gazes piercing him, the elderly king spoke in a dignified tone.

“Your surprise is warranted. Discussing a change in the throne is somewhat reckless even for the king. However, the years are mounting and the crown is getting rather heavy for my old bones.”

“How could you say that, Your Majesty?! You are still in your prime!” A middle-aged man had interjected against the king’s claim of his age. This man was also close to the throne and wearing purple.

Who is it? Zenjirou thought to himself. I know he’s part of the Sharous because of the outfit, but I’ve not memorized the entire family.

Unlike Capua’s nigh-extinct family from the war, the Twin Kingdoms’s royal families were great in number. Unfortunately, Zenjirou would be unable to memorize all of them.

He turned his attention to this new royal. The man looked around thirty-five and maintained the decorum he needed to in front of the throne, but there was a clearly wild look in his eye. Even Zenjirou could tell at a glance that he was not welcoming of King Bruno’s proclamation.

“Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider. Our country still needs you.”

“No, it does not. Our country has a surfeit of young talent. I hardly believe I am indispensable.”

“But...”

The king wanted to abdicate, and a royal wished to stop him. A simplistic read on the situation would imply that it was simply how much he respected the king. The interpersonal relations between the movers and shakers of a big power like this were hard to confine like that, though.

Just from my rough impressions, King Bruno and Crown Prince Josep have a close relationship, right? Prince Josep was born to the king’s legitimate wife as well. I’ve also heard that he’s shown himself to be accomplished in both enchanting and statecraft. No one has raised any real concerns about his personality. Frankly, I doubt there’d be much of a fight for the throne...

He was the next legitimate offspring in line and had no real issues with either his skills or personality. The crown prince fulfilling those conditions meant that it would be impossible to question his right of succession. With that in mind, the strange reaction was not on the part of the royal urging the king to reconsider, but on the king for suddenly announcing his abdication.

It’d normally go off without a hitch, so why is he purposefully causing waves like this? Does he intend to install someone other than Prince Josep to the throne?

Zenjirou’s thoughts were put to rest by the king’s next statement.

“Josep already carries out over half of the nation’s politics on my behalf. There will be little difference in officially handing him the crown. Or do you mean to say, Largo, that you object to Crown Prince Josep taking the throne?”

The man in his thirties frantically denied the accusation from the glaring king. “Not at all, Your Majesty! Josep is the only choice.”

The conversation at least implied that Josep would indeed be next on the throne. The king calling the other man by name also allowed Zenjirou to place the fellow.

Prince Largo. I’m pretty sure he’s the king’s youngest. He’s Prince Josep’s half brother and thirty-five if I remember right. Prince Josep’s forty-eight or forty-nine, so about thirteen, fourteen years between them?

Zenjirou dragged out the information from his past three days of memorization. That said, it didn’t shed any further light on the situation. Capua was in the west, and the Twin Kingdoms were in the center of the continent, so there was too much distance between them to have solid information.

Zenjirou had only been here for three days. He had gathered information from the soldiers who had preceded him, but it was honestly hard to call it sufficient.

“Agreeing with my brother’s ascension and your own abdication are separate things though, Your Majesty. Why have you announced it so suddenly and in such a setting?”

“Josep will be enthroned either way. Accelerating things to suit my own circumstances causes no issues. You agree with his ascension regardless. I am aware that your words come from a position of respect. Still, continuing to make these claims will give our esteemed guest a mistaken impression.”

The king’s low comment made the prince suddenly look towards Zenjirou. His face flattened into expressionlessness as he gave a polite bow.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” he addressed Zenjirou. “I apologize for my carelessness.”

His manners were perfect, and his expression was an excellent poker face. However, Zenjirou noticed a slight twitch on the man’s cheek. He was probably clenching his teeth to hold his emotions in check.

“Not at all. I can only envy your openness with each other in the Sharou family for the sake of your country,” Zenjirou replied. He had a smile all but saying that he understood nothing of the situation, and his phrasing was somewhat vague.

Of course, it was mostly true that he understood nothing of the situation, so the smile was not necessarily an act. The conversation also allowed him to realize something else.

I don’t know why he’s doing it, but I know why he’s doing it now. He’s taking advantage of me being here!

More precisely, Zenjirou was a living witness. The Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle had the peculiarity of two royal families with two heads of state, but they were still feudalistic. Heads of state in such countries were not as all-powerful as often thought. If the influential nobles of the land united against the king, it was far from uncommon for the king’s desires to be unfulfilled.

If those selfsame nobles conspired to continually press the king to continue, there was a significant possibility the king would need to compromise. Announcing it here, though, turned the situation on its head. Zenjirou was, for all his faults, royalty from a major country that ruled the west of the continent. The king had made his proclamation in front of him in an official capacity.

Despite contesting the king’s power, even the self-professed loyal nobility would maintain that stance publicly. They could not break that facade in front of foreign royalty, and there was no room to both keep that stance and protest the legitimate heir’s ascension.

Therefore, though it had been done high-handedly, the king’s abdication and the crown prince’s coronation were unanimously accepted. From the king’s perspective, it was a vital blow.

Zenjirou understood it rationally. He truly did, but his honest impression on the matter was very different.

That doesn’t mean you need to drag me into it! This is going to be such a pain!

His thoughts were naturally ones of despair over this turn of events.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

While it was not quite “without incident,” Zenjirou had managed to finish his audience with King Bruno and return to his annex. He was joined by the head of his security detail—General Pujol—as they discussed the earlier events.

“I do not know the full circumstances,” the general said, “but the reason for Prince Largo’s reticence is simple. He simply wishes to be king himself.”

Zenjirou shifted in the still unfamiliar foreign seat as he listened to the general’s unconcerned report.

“Hm? I cannot see how. Surely Crown Prince Josep is to be the next king regardless. With the lack of detriment in such a plan, I see no way for his younger brother to become king.”

He then awaited the huge general’s reply from the other sofa. While the general’s political acumen could not be described as exactly stellar, he had spent a month with the soldiers and knights of the Twin Kingdoms. He, therefore, had some insight into the situation in the country.

Whether he was aware of Zenjirou’s internal musings, General Pujol heaved his massive shoulders into a shrug before giving a concise answer. “While there is no detriment in Crown Prince Josep ascending to the throne currently, his age will be in another ten years. King Bruno may already be in his seventies, but he is still hale in his old age. It is by no means impossible for him to last another ten years and still hold the throne in his eighties. The rumors hold that Prince Largo’s hope rests on that.”

“I see, so it is a matter of age.” He could accept the general’s explanation on the whole. For most brothers, succession was determined by seniority. That was the case across the entire Southern Continent, but there were instances where that did not hold true when the older sibling was significantly past their prime.

The current king, Bruno, was currently seventy. The crown prince, Josep, was forty-nine. On the other hand, Prince Largo was thirty-five and had his eyes on the throne.

If the succession happened immediately, then the crown prince would be easily seen as being in the prime of his life. The usual reign of a king was around ten years, and if he followed King Bruno’s example and held the position until he was seventy, then he would be there for twice that time.

If, however, this happened ten years later, he would be fifty-nine while Prince Largo would be forty-five. There would inevitably be unease at a nearly sixty-year-old “new” king. Having the new king then be the younger prince would raise no real eyebrows at that point.

“Could the crown not then skip a generation?” Zenjirou asked.

The crown could pass not from father to son, but from grandfather to grandson. That would entirely miss the one generation. In a situation like the current one, where a single king had remained on the throne until they were elderly, that ought to be possible.

However, the general shook his head. “That would be difficult. Crown Prince Josep has seven children between his wife and concubines. Unfortunately, though, only two are male. As you are aware, Sir Zenjirou, one of them is Prince Francesco. He is twenty-five, so there is no issue with his age, but he has no place in the line of succession due to his character. The other male is Prince Vittore, who is currently seven. Fortunately, he was also born to Crown Princess Tosca, but he will barely be an adult even after another decade. It would be unlikely for the crown to pass directly to him from King Bruno.”

“So the length of his reign is the issue here,” Zenjirou mused. Internally, he was impressed that the crown princess had had children around twenty years apart.

“It is,” the general agreed. “It is rather ironic from our own perspective. Whether the reign is long or short, whether there are many royals or few, there are still endless problems.”

The steady, almost fifty-year reign under a single king, coupled with the excessive number of royals, led to the subordinate members of the Sharou family contending for the crown. In contrast, the Capuan royal family was too small, having had three kings that served for less than a year during the war along with losing much of the family in the same conflict.

Comparing the two situations truly brought home how difficult it was to keep the circumstances stable.

“I understand much of the situation. Yet to think I would become involved with the domestic problems of the Twin Kingdoms...” Zenjirou frowned.

The general raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused as he answered. “I would wager King Bruno has few external assets to hand. The majority of international negotiations are dealt with by the Gilbelle family.”

“So the Sharou family deals with domestic matters and the Gilbelle family with international matters?” Zenjirou mumbled as he considered his basic knowledge of the country.

“Indeed. The Sharou family therefore has few opportunities to officially meet foreign royalty. To say nothing of royalty like yourself, of such a pivotal country. I would say it was quite the windfall for King Bruno.”

While they may all be called “royalty,” there were clear distinctions in status. The small countries around the Twin Kingdoms were financially dependent on the latter, so many of them were effectively satellite nations. Those countries may technically be kingdoms, but even their kings were often of lower effective station than the nobles of the Twin Kingdoms.

Of course, even a larger country’s royalty of some dead-end branch family would add no real pressure. In comparison, Zenjirou was both royalty of a country that stood on the same level as the Twin Kingdoms and was close to its core, being the queen’s spouse. Royalty and nobility of the Twin Kingdoms alike would find it difficult to renege on a statement made in front of him.

“I understand it logically, but that does not make it any more pleasant.” Zenjirou sighed.

The general’s mouth twisted up into a smile. “You are right. However, this could be quite the opportunity. Whichever way he explains it, the fact remains that he will owe you. You could perhaps stress that and gain aid in your own goals?”

Zenjirou couldn’t help but give a reluctant grin at the general’s blunt suggestion. “Quite so, but it has already happened now. He need only feign ignorance.”

The king had already succeeded in his goal, so bringing up any debt would be difficult.

Pujol’s grin took on an audacious gleam as he disagreed. “You perhaps speak too hastily. King Bruno announced that he would abdicate in the near future. What would you see as ‘the near future?’”

Zenjirou inclined his head at the implication-laden words and thought. “Well...I would say within the year. Though succession is a particularly important matter, so longer. In which case, more than a year, but less than two.”

The general gave an exaggerated look of surprise. “Oh, you took it as between a single year and two years? Personally, I thought that succession would take around three years. If the two of us have such different viewpoints, perhaps the royalty and nobility of the Twin Kingdoms may see the near future as within the next five years. Perhaps even within the next ten, depending on the circumstances.”

“Ah. I see.”

Zenjirou let out a deep sigh as he understood the implication. King Bruno had explicitly promised that the throne would pass to Crown Prince Josep in the near future. However, the “near future” needed to be defined in a more concrete fashion.

The general’s claim was that Zenjirou would have the strongest say in what that definition would be, as he had been a large part of the impetus. If Zenjirou asked when it would happen and that he had assumed the king had meant next year, he could push the view that “the near future” meant “within the year.”

The example of a decade, which the general had given—along with inside a month on the other end of the scale—were clearly absurd time limits. If he kept the times to more reasonable time frames, though, he could quite possibly influence what “the near future” became.

Hm? Then surely he could have just given a definite time frame in the first place? Why would he be so vague about it? If he’s as wise and great as they say, surely he’d have seen that...

He thought it over briefly to come to a simple conclusion.

Maybe it was a purposeful concession?

Things generally lined up on that front. It had all felt off in the first place. Zenjirou’s visit was—on his part—to make arrangements for a healer before his and Aura’s second child was born. At the same time, the Sharou family should have been angling to have Zenjirou—or his dual heritage of the Capua and Sharou families—as part of their own country.

Despite that, the first meeting had been a surprise attack taking advantage of him. No one enjoyed being used in such a way. Considering they would want him to take a concubine from their lands and get her pregnant, making him ill-disposed to them would be a bad move.

I just don’t know enough, and thinking about it isn’t going to get me anywhere.

Zenjirou had just given up on theorizing and let out another sigh when there was a knock at the door.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Excuse me, Sir Zenjirou,” the soldier answered. “Lady Lucretia wishes to see you. Would you be willing?”

Lucretia was the name of one of the few people from the Twin Kingdoms Zenjirou could easily bring to mind despite only having been there for three days. She was a daughter of the Broglie family—and also Zenjirou’s mediator during his stay.

“I would. Ines, apologies for the short notice, but prepare the area. General Pujol, you may leave.”

“At once, sir.”

“Excuse me.”

The maid standing ready at his back and the general sitting in front of him both moved briskly in accordance with Zenjirou’s statement.

Around thirty minutes passed after that. The person sitting on the sofa opposite him was now a slight girl with a blonde side-tail rather than the burly general.

While she was seated with all the poise and dignity she should have, her legs were clearly too short to reach the floor, and her feet hung in the air instead. Her innocent smile made her look rather young, but she was still a grown woman.

Of course, calling a fifteen-year-old a “grown woman” wasn’t something Zenjirou could really comprehend with his lingering sensibilities from Earth. Either way, this world’s customs meant that he had to treat her as an adult regardless.

“Apologies for the wait, Lucretia,” Zenjirou said, keeping his expression as smooth as he could.

“Not at all, Your Majesty,” the girl replied, shaking her head along with her tied-up hair. “Conversely, I wish to thank you for accepting my sudden request.”

“It was nothing major,” he answered. “So, what did you wish to discuss?”

As he spoke, Zenjirou’s gaze flickered to the maid standing behind Lucretia. She was holding a sealed bundle of drake parchment. It was likely written invitations.

Now that he had officially met with the king, the Twin Kingdoms’s nobility would have immediately moved towards interacting with him. He couldn’t exactly welcome it, but Zenjirou had been prepared for it.

However, despite noticing his look, Lucretia started with a slightly different topic than he had expected.

“Your Majesty, I wish to offer apologies in King Bruno’s place for the unsightly display during the audience today,” she said with a polite bow of her head.

Zenjirou raised a hand. “Not at all. The matter needs no apology from you, Lucretia. Do not let it concern you,” he said with as cheery a smile as he could.

Of course, the tone he used was soft as well, but it was a clear refusal of her apology. It was hardly a surprise. If he let such treatment go—even from a king—simply due to words from a noble girl, he would be looking down on his own position.

His response seemed to be roughly what she had expected, as her expression remained mostly the same as she continued. “Very well. King Bruno has requested an audience in regard to the matter at a later date. Flora.”

“Here,” her maid answered, taking the top sheet from the sheaf she held and passing it neatly to Lucretia.

She took it and after ensuring that the addressee and such was correct passed it back to the maid. Lucretia’s maid kept a polite pace as she walked over to the sofa Zenjirou was sitting on and offered the invitation to him.

“I will accept this,” Ines answered, taking the invitation from where she waited behind Zenjirou.

She checked the parchment with practiced movements and broke the seal once Zenjirou indicated his permission. She spread it in front of him.

Much of the drake parchment in Capua was a light green, but this sheet was cream in color, perhaps due to differences in the drakes that went into them.

“If you wish, I could read it aloud?” Ines suggested.

“If you would,” Zenjirou agreed.

His practice thus far meant that he could more or less read the words. However, he didn’t believe he could deal with official documents alone if they required absolutely no mistakes in reading.

“Excuse me, then. ‘To honored noble Zenjirou, having traveled great distances to...’”

The contents—beginning with the long preface—were more or less what Zenjirou had understood from his own perusal of the parchment. Essentially, the king wanted a private meeting to offer his explanations and apologies for the incident during the public audience.

Feeling slightly like he was being tricked, Zenjirou softly traced his finger along the words. He then inspected the finger, but no ink had transferred to it.

“I see. Very well. I wish to tell King Bruno that I deeply appreciate his interaction being fast enough that it could turn back time.”

“I understand,” she answered with a smile after inspecting him with her blue eyes for a long moment. “I shall inform him of precisely that.”

She likely understood the implication he was making. The ink used on drake parchment did not normally dry particularly quickly. At the very least, if it had been written immediately after the audience today, it would not have been completely dry.

Zenjirou had just confirmed that this ink was bone dry, though. Inevitably, that meant the invitation had been written before the audience. And yet, it focused on explaining the incident from that day.

While Zenjirou kept a smile on his face, he was sighing mentally. So the whole thing went how he planned. I’ve got a headache thinking about what’s going to happen.

It was only to be expected from a king who had reigned for close to fifty years. Who knew how far things would go if Zenjirou let his guard down.

As he had the realization again, Zenjirou centered himself and brought his attention back to the girl in front of him. “So, can I assume that the rest of your business is similar invitations?”

“You are quite correct. Flora, hand them over.”

“At once, ma’am.”

The invitations followed the same route as the previous one: from Flora to Ines, then from Ines to in front of Zenjirou.

The invitation from the king was one thing, but Zenjirou couldn’t open the rest from the other royals and nobles here. Instead, he just checked the senders of several of the sheets from the top.

Dukes Elehalieucco, Reierfon, Elementaccato, and Animeeum. Man, I knew it was coming, but the four dukes? The dukes here don’t usually leave their own territory, so these are probably from proxies in the capital.

Zenjirou let out yet another mental sigh at the big names he’d been expecting. Despite only having a hasty smattering of knowledge concerning the Twin Kingdoms, even he knew the four dukes’ names.

While The Kingdom of Capua and The Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle were both kingdoms, there were many slight differences. One of them was the relative importance of the title of “duke.”

There were generally two circumstances the title of duke would be used: for a royal and for a noble. Capua only ever used it in the royal sense, while the Twin Kingdoms took the other option. In the royal sense, duke was a title given to a near-direct relation of royalty. In a noble sense, though, it was the highest rank that could be given.

The four dukes who had sent Zenjirou these invitations were dukes in that latter sense. Naturally, their influence was vast. The practical matters of wealth and political capital were, of course, factors. However, even in their official positions, they were beaten only by the Crown Prince of the Sharou Kingdom and the Pope Presumptive of the Gilbelle Papacy.

Outside of the two monarchs and heirs, even the royal families could be called inferior.

When considering the country’s history, it was perhaps to be expected. The four dukes were patriarchs of their tribes and dwelled in the desert in the center of this continent. The tribes were vast in scale, with many a gallant warrior. Unfortunately, they did not possess lineal magics. While it may not have been an issue on the Northern Continent, it was a fatal flaw on the southern.

On the Southern Continent, the succession of royalty was determined by the inheritance of lineal magic. However loud they were, the surrounding nations would never recognize them as royalty. Likewise, their lands were not seen as countries. They were seen as naught but wandering nomads of the desert, without even a country to their name. They were naturally then treated as inferior by a level or two by the surrounding nations.

Then, the refugees had arrived from the Northern Continent, led by the Sharou and Gilbelle families. Having fled the Northern Continent, they inevitably had no place of their own here. It was unavoidable. The Southern Continent’s norm was dark hair and skin, so the fair-skinned and haired group were obtrusive.

Their fleeing didn’t end even after their arrival here, and then they arrived in the great desert that covered the center of the continent. The effective rulers of it—the Four Tribes—had no lineal magics, and it was therefore not seen as a country. The Sharou and Gilbelle families had fled from the Northern Continent and therefore had nowhere safe of their own.

Both camps, after various complications, had taken each others’ hands and formed a new country in the sands. Its name? The Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle.

Considering the circumstances of the country’s founding, it was practically inevitable that the Four Tribes were practically on par with the two families. After all, the land that had formed the foundations of this country was their territory. Even now, their lands were far larger than the Twin Kingdoms’s in both size and population.

Of course, the Sharou and Gilbelle held the unquestionable trump cards of enchantment and healing and so were overwhelmingly wealthier.

Lucretia seemed to realize Zenjirou recognized the dukes’ signatures. “Your visit is a privilege without compare to the Twin Kingdoms, Your Majesty. Naturally, everyone wishes to meet you.”

The exaggerated speech from the blonde girl emphasized the country welcoming him.

“So it would seem,” he answered as he let his eyes drop to the thick pile of parchment. He purposefully allowed a strained smile.

The girl gave a bright smile of her own in response. “Though with that said, there is certainly a difference in fervor. While some will come to visit personally, others will send proxies. I hope you can see it as simply a difference in ardor,” she said in a slightly lighter tone.

“I see...” In contrast, Zenjirou’s voice was lower than normal. He wasn’t acting; he genuinely felt warier.

The dukes were each lords of their own vast territory, practically kings of independent monarchies. That was why they remained in those territories, with only representatives in the capital.

Despite the invitations being to their estates in the capital, it was unlikely any of them would be present.

So is that a sign I can put them off? What on Earth?

He completely lacked the requisite information as each of them contacted him with their own agendas, with his own capacity being already close to overflowing. That aside, it was not something he could think his way through here.

He pulled himself together and looked through the rest of the senders. His cramming meant that he knew the names like Prince Largo’s—the man who had caused much of the uproar in the audience. However, the other nobles’ names were completely alien to him.

There was also a name that he was expecting to see that was instead absent.

Nothing from Crown Prince Josep, then? Maybe he’ll sit in with the king? That’d make it definite collusion between the two. That’s not exactly surprising, though...

There was another name that Zenjirou was expecting to see that he didn’t.

“Lucretia?” he asked.

“Yes, what is it, Your Majesty?”

She seemed to lack timidity in its entirety as she simply smiled innocently.

Zenjirou looked pointedly at the collected invitations before voicing his misgiving. “I do not see an invitation from Marquis Broglie.”

“Indeed. As you can see, there are many from all levels of society who wished to give their own invitations, so our family refrained. Instead, as I am stationed with you for your stay, I will be a proxy for the marquis. If you have business with the family, I would welcome you speaking through me.”

“I see.”

He recalled that even the lowest-ranked signatures were those of counts.

I guess they were pretty carefully selected, even with how many there are.

People of low status, weaker families who went through their superiors, and those like the marquis who already had people close to Zenjirou, had been excluded from this selection of invitations.

“Then please thank the marquis for your assistance during my stay.”

“I certainly will.” She smiled happily.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

It was about an hour later. Zenjirou was in the innermost room of his borrowed annex. He had expelled his guards and was accompanied by only his trusted maids from the inner palace.

“I’m exhausted...”

Ines smiled at the flood of emotion in his short statement before offering him some appreciation. “You did well, Sir Zenjirou. Do you wish to change?”

“If you would,” he replied with a relieved expression.

Ines signaled a younger maid with a look and they stood on either side of him.

Zenjirou was currently wearing the first uniform of the Capuan royal family. Of course, he wasn’t wearing the sword belt and ornamental sword that went with it, but everything else was the same.

Unlike the third uniform he usually wore, it was much harder for someone to take it off alone. He was almost like a dress-up doll as he stood. It was like a magic show as they stripped him of the outfit.

Fortunately, he had no further plans. Now in his underwear, Zenjirou immediately changed into loungewear—a T-shirt and cotton pants he’d brought from Japan—before slumping back into the chair.

As he did, Ines perfectly timed pouring water into a metal chalice to offer him.

“Thanks,” he said, offering his usual reply of appreciation before downing the drink.

They were in the middle of the blazing season. However, the Purple Egg Palace was the stronghold of the Sharou enchanters. It had tools that created mist and wind to both cool and humidify the air, so it barely felt like the hottest season. The soldiers said that it was a different type of difficulty than Capua’s hot and humid climate.

Therefore, Zenjirou’s current sweat and thirst were not due to the physical environment. Instead, it was just how much the earlier discussions had exhausted him.

Unlike in the inner palace he called home, there was no fridge. The water came from deep veins of water in the earth, though, so it was still relatively cold.

“Phew, I needed that.”

The drink had restored his willpower. He sat back properly in the chair before speaking to the middle-aged maid with an air of complaint.

“The internal politics of the country are complicated. Honestly, I’ve not got a clue where to even begin.”

“The Twin Kingdoms do indeed have their idiosyncrasies. Both in terms of two families ruling a single nation and a population of indigenous peoples centering on the four dukes living in the same countries as the migrants from the Northern Continent. I am rather impressed that such a state has continued for centuries while remaining essentially a single country.”

“For sure.” Zenjirou nodded. The more he learned, the stranger it felt that it was a single country.

“There are the migrants who follow the royal families, and the desert natives who follow the four dukes. I’ve heard about the conflict between the families under the surface, and I know the four dukes have power struggles of their own. There is division within the Sharou family itself, with Prince Largo opposing the king and crown prince. I truly doubt that even the Twin Kingdoms’s nobility grasps the full extent of the conflict, let alone a foreigner like yourself,” Ines told him.

“The politics here are inscrutable as anything,” Zenjirou replied, face sour. The conversation brought back part of his earlier discussion with Lucretia and her behavior. “So do you think that Lucretia’s harshness towards the four dukes could have been part of that antagonism between the immigrants and natives?”

She had intimated that while some people would see him personally, others would send proxies and that it was due to a difference in the strength of their feelings. The four dukes were in their own lands and would inevitably send proxies. It was clearly said to lower their importance in his eyes, so it could have been born of that.

While Ines nodded in agreement, she still pointed out other possibilities. “That is certainly likely. However, I have heard that ethnic conflict is a more moderate point of contention amongst those that exist, so it would be best not to assume. The royal families are certainly excepted from this due to explicitly aiming to preserve their lineal magics, but I have also heard that almost all the noble families have intermarried with the tribes at least once or twice during their history.”

“I see. The country’s still been around for centuries, so there’d be a lot of mixing going on.”

“Indeed. Of course, there were also over a hundred times as many natives when the country was formed. Outside of the capital, much of the general population is descended purely from the desert tribes.”

“You’re knowledgeable about this,” Zenjirou remarked, a quizzical look on his face at the far more detailed explanation than he’d expected.

Ines laughed slightly. “I heard it from the knights and soldiers. The soldiers spent a month with those of this country on the way from Capua, after all. There were a fair few men who were more than willing to discuss things,” she said, revealing her sources.

Zenjirou smacked a fist into his open palm. “Oh, right. We arrived instantly with magic, but most of the guards spent a month marching with the soldiers from the Twin Kingdoms.”

The path between the two kingdoms was known to be a harsh one. It was inevitable that such a journey would lead to friendliness across the borders. The unconscious information exchange between the subordinates was nothing to be ignored. In a certain light, it was the most accurate view of the internal politics of the nation.

“Can you keep up with the information gathering from the soldiers, then? I’ll cover meals between them as an expense. Oh, make sure they don’t realize it’s information gathering, though. I doubt our men could hide it from the Twin Kingdoms if they knew.”

The maid gave a soft smile and indicated her understanding as Zenjirou emphasized that it was—at least publicly—solely to build relations between their soldiers.

“In which case, would you be willing to appoint Sir Natalio to collect the information from the knights? Kate can keep contact with him and it would not appear suspicious from observation.”

Zenjirou’s sole personal knight, Natalio Maldonado, and Kate Maldonado of the maids were, as their names implied, siblings. The brother and sister taking the opportunity to meet frequently after the years Kate had spent in the inner palace would seem entirely natural.

“Mm, you can deal with the specifics. I need more information before I can do anything anyway. Ideally, I’d just get the contract in place and race off back to Capua,” Zenjirou said with a sigh.

“That would be impossible currently,” Ines said with a pitying smile.

“Yeah, I know,” Zenjirou answered, slumping.

He’d been well and truly tied up in the succession race in a very public manner. It’d be best to assume that he wouldn’t be able to leave until there was at least a rough road map for how the succession would take place.

“Whatever else, the private discussion with King Bruno comes first. I need to see how he acts there or I won’t be able to find any compromise with him.”

“Indeed. I shall be there and aid you to the best of my ability.”

“Yeah, please do.”

Zenjirou felt nothing wrong with assigning what was essentially a secretary’s role to a mere maid. He simply smiled back at her.