Chapter 1

I was reborn as the child of a high-ranking noble.

What’s more, I’m attractive and wildly popular with the opposite sex.

But I’m not happy about it. Not at all.

Why, you ask?

Because I lost my penis.

That’s right—I, Roselia El Budoudarl (formerly an ordinary Japanese man), have been reincarnated as a noble daughter in a world steeped in twisted values and rampant male supremacy.

In this world, noble women are expected to enter political marriages, have sex, and bear children.

Which means I have to sleep with a man and have kids.

It’s incredibly depressing.

But in this world, a woman who doesn’t bear children—who can’t bear children—has no rights.

Women have almost no rights to begin with, and that just makes it worse. (Not that the concept of "rights" even exists here.)

I don’t want to spend my long life walking on a bed of nails.

On top of that, I’m from excellent stock and set to inherit vast lands from my parents.

If I don’t marry and have children, it could throw the whole region into chaos.

That would be extremely irresponsible of me.

So, as much as I hate the idea, I’ve decided to accept marriage and childbirth.

I really, really hate it, though.

Still, I don’t want to do it a bunch of times or have a ton of kids.

So I’ve set my sights on a “marriage of convenience.”

Once I’ve fulfilled the bare minimum requirement of producing children, I’ll just play the role of the loving wife.

No more sex beyond that.

...Well, in this world, the “bare minimum” seems to be around five or six children.

Only one in three children born actually make it to adulthood.

So if I don’t have at least that many, the family line could die out.

...Is it okay if I cry?

After the seventh kid or so, he can take a mistress instead.

If I’m allowed a personal wish, I’d prefer someone clean and not smelly.

People in this world are lucky if they bathe once every three days…

Let’s just say the body odor situation is rough.

Anyway, several months after I turned twelve, I was scheduled to travel to the royal capital for a social gathering.

To meet my potential marriage candidate.

“It’s been a while, Duke Larknoll. I imagine your feats on the battlefield have echoed far and wide, even beyond my own lands and across the major kingdoms.”

“Ah... Duke Budoudarl. I too have long awaited the day we would meet. You hardly ever show your face, after all.”

My father—the Duke of Budoudarl—was greeting Duke Larknoll, who stood before him.

The very same Duke Larknoll whose forces are currently at war with my family’s.

That said, this isn’t a war of annihilation. A temporary ceasefire was called for the sake of diplomacy.

“Savage!” “Coward!” The two of them were already trading insults.

The atmosphere was tense, and it looked like a fistfight could break out at any moment.

Is this... okay?

Apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking that.

Standing beside Duke Larknoll was a boy—likely his son—who looked equally anxious and uncomfortable.

...Oh, our eyes met.

When I smiled at him, he quickly looked away. What a shy one.

After about a minute of verbal sparring, the two dukes urged their children—that is, us—to greet each other.

“...A pleasure to meet you. I am Thor El Larknoll, firstborn of Duke Larknoll and heir to his lands. I hope we may become better acquainted.”

The blond-haired, blue-eyed handsome boy—Thor—gave a polite bow to my father and me.

He’s one of my prospective marriage partners.

Though he’s the heir of our enemy nation, a marriage alliance would bring peace to both sides.

“I am honored to meet you. I am Roselia El Budoudarl, first daughter of Duke Budoudarl and heir to his lands. I look forward to your acquaintance.”

I pinched the hem of my skirt and gave a textbook-perfect noble greeting.

Then, taking just one small step forward, I locked eyes with Thor.

“I’ve long heard of your valor on the battlefield. ...I’ve been hoping for the chance to speak with you myself!”

I’m interested in you! I conveyed with all the charm I could muster. Of course, I wasn’t actually interested.

This was an order from my father.

My mission today is to get him to fall for me.

Ideally, I’ll have him completely head over heels.

Make him want to marry me—then use that to negotiate a peace treaty.

In short, it’s a marriage scam.

“Now, now, Roselia... My apologies for my daughter.”

“Ha ha... Think nothing of it. Thor, escort Lady Roselia, won’t you?”

“Y-yes... Right this way.”

“It’s a pleasure, Lord Thor.”

Adults went with adults. Children went with children.

As planned, I ended up alone with Thor and used the chance to draw out all kinds of stories about his exploits on the battlefield.

And at every opportunity, I showered him with, “Amazing!” and “As expected of you!”

“My! So that’s the background to it!! Then, everything went just as Lord Thor predicted?”

“I-It’s really not a big deal… The one who came up with the strategy and gave the orders was the vice-captain…”

I already know that. He’s twelve, after all.

There’s no way a twelve-year-old boy could command troops on the battlefield. No one would even allow it.

“Even recognizing and acting on a subordinate’s advice is part of a commander’s skill, is it not?”

“Well, that might be true, but…”

“And after that, wasn’t it your own martial prowess that brought down the enemy commander?”

The one he brought down was the Marshal of our duchy.

Our soldiers testified: “He was taken down by the heir of House Larknoll.”

It seems he surrendered, so he’s still alive, but… I heard he lost an arm.

He’s our nation’s most capable general when it comes to warfare, so we need him returned soon.

And for that, I must win over Thor.

“To think you’re the same age as me and already so accomplished… I really must learn from your example.”

Our nation is currently facing difficult diplomatic circumstances.

Not only are we at odds with the northern Duchy of Larknoll, but we’re also entangled in a territorial dispute with the Empire to the east.

The Empire has been dangling the idea of a marriage between me and the Crown Prince as a condition for peace…

But that’s something I absolutely cannot accept.

That’s why, if we are to face off against the Empire, I want at least a non-aggression pact with the House of Larknoll—even if not a full alliance.

For that to happen, I must build a good relationship with Thor.

But… he’s proving a little difficult to deal with.

Most men in this world, if praised this much, would ramble on endlessly about their valor—real or exaggerated.

But Thor hasn’t reacted much. He won’t even meet my eyes.

Still, I don’t think he’s uninterested in me.

After all, every now and then, I catch his gaze drifting to my exposed neckline or shoulders.

Maybe he’s just not used to women.

He has been acting rather embarrassed for a while now.

Alright, let’s try a safer, more relaxed topic.

“Oh! Would you mind telling me a bit about the Duchy of Larknoll?”

“…My homeland?”

“Yes. I’ve heard your culture differs quite a bit from ours. I believe there’s a custom of steam baths?”

“Yes… that’s true.”

Good, changing the subject worked—Thor became a little more talkative.

And to be honest, I found this topic more enjoyable to listen to as well.

“That was all so fascinating… I’d love to experience it for myself someday.”

“Then… when peace returns, I shall personally guide you.”

“I look forward to it. May this connection between us become a bridge of peace between our nations.”

“Eh? Th-That’s…”

Thor’s face turned bright red.

That kind of lip service isn’t unusual in diplomacy, though…

He really isn’t used to girls.

Perhaps he’s been so absorbed in warfare that he hasn’t had many chances to attend social events.

Will he be okay in the future, I wonder? He might get tricked by a bad girl. Someone like… me.

As I was thinking that, beautiful music began to flow.

The social dance had begun.

Father had instructed me to dance one song with Thor.

I turned my gaze toward him, waiting for him to offer his hand.

But he quickly looked away and fell silent.

…This was bad.

After chatting for so long, if we don’t dance, people might assume: “So they got close for politics, but ended up not getting along.”

That would be the opposite of what Father intended.

If this keeps up, I’ll definitely get scolded.

“…Won’t you ask me to dance?”

Unseemly, perhaps.

But I asked anyway, prepared for people to think so.

If he turns me down, I’ll just have to explain to Father: “I did what I could, but he rejected me. Maybe he’s into plain girls, or maybe he swings the other way.”

“…I’m not very good at dancing. And I’ve never danced at such a formal occasion before…”

Thor answered with an apologetic look on his face.

Apparently, he didn’t want to embarrass himself with clumsy dancing.

…Honestly, I felt a little relieved.

There are plenty of noble boys like that—ones who don’t want to mess up in front of a girl.

He’s probably thinking, What if I step on her foot? What if this cute girl ends up hating me?

Which means his feelings are coming from a place completely opposite of dislike.

And if that’s the case… then I know how to handle this.

“Oh my! So that’s how it was!”

I smiled from the bottom of my heart and brought my hands together in a small clap.

Just because he said he’d never danced before, just because he said he wasn’t good at it, didn’t mean I’d laugh at him.

I made sure that feeling showed through my entire demeanor as I closed the distance between us in one swift move.

Then I leaned in and whispered softly near his ear.

“Then… might I have your first time, Lord Thor?”

I looked straight into his eyes and smiled.

After a moment of hesitation, Thor met my gaze.

“I might step on your feet, you know?”

“Everyone starts that way. Besides, I… happen to be quite confident in my dancing.”

I won’t let you make a fool of yourself.

I made that perfectly clear, and Thor gave a small nod before offering me his hand.

“Would you grant me this dance… Princess Roselia?”

“Yes, with pleasure.”

I took Thor’s hand.

The moment I did, his body jolted slightly.

At twelve years old, it wouldn’t be strange if he had already written a few letters of interest to a girl or two, but this reaction—there was no mistaking it. This was the reaction of a boy who was still completely pure.

For some reason, I felt an odd sense of familiarity as I began to dance with Thor.

But… this type of social dance really does involve quite a lot of skin contact.

Considering how revealing the dresses are, I can’t help but wonder—was the whole point of this custom just to stir desire in men?

As I pressed my chest against Thor, that thought crossed my mind.

They’re still small—I am twelve, after all—but I think they’re bigger than average for my age.

Thor, with my chest pressed against him, had turned bright red, and his body had gone stiff as a board.

Still, this was well within expectations.

I took the lead, firmly guiding Thor by pulling on his arm, leaning into him, and occasionally whispering the rhythm near his ear to help him stay on beat.

For someone who cut off our Marshal’s arm, his coordination wasn’t bad at all.

With my help, we made it through the dance without issue.

“Thank you very much. You danced quite well.”

“Ah, uh… y-yeah… you think so?”

Thor still looked unsure, even in the face of my compliment.

It seems he realized I had been guiding him. Still, I really did think he had good instincts.

“Until next time, don’t forget to practice.”

Let’s dance again.

That’s what I meant, and I whispered it directly into his ear.

“Y-Yes! I’ll be ready… next time, for sure!”

Thor nodded enthusiastically, his face flushed with happiness.

Fufu. Got him.

Honestly, I’m starting to scare myself. I might be too good at this.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

After finishing the dance with Thor, I stepped away from the dance floor.

“I’ll be taking a short break.”

“Yes, Princess.”

I told my handmaid and made my way toward the table lined with food.

Formal banquets have all sorts of customs, but when the gathering is as large as tonight’s, it turns into more of a standing buffet.

I scanned the table for a drink and something light to snack on, when—

“Seems tonight brought you quite a fortunate encounter, Princess Roselia.”

“Oh…”

The one who addressed me was a young man with blue hair and blue eyes.

He looked kind, but not soft—his features struck a perfect balance, the kind you’d expect from a prince in a fairy tale.

In his hand, he held two glasses of wine, like he’d prepared for this moment.

Behind him stood his attendant, carrying a small tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“Prince Bartona. A pleasure, as always.”

Bartona, the second prince.

Twenty years old, eight years my senior.

He’s Father’s favorite, the top contender, the leading candidate for my fiancé.