Chapter 13

You often see it in manga—a powerful character makes their entrance, and the sound effect “GOGOGOGOGO...” is drawn in the background.

That’s fiction. In modern-day Japan, no one walks around radiating sound effects like that. It’d be obnoxious.

But in this world, the nobles wear something equivalent to that sound effect.

Magic power.

Sheer magical energy, just by existing, exerts pressure.

This phenomenon is called riding pressure.

It’s not lethal, but it can intimidate anyone whose pressure is lower than your own.

As long as you have magic power, you can release riding pressure. You don’t need some kind of “kingly” disposition.

It’s basically a generic knockoff of Conqueror’s Haki.

Which means all nobles, myself included, live our lives with a constant “GOGOGOGOGO...” rumbling around us.

So when a bunch of nobles gather in one place…

It’s not exactly a pleasant experience.

It’s the kind of discomfort and suffocating dread you get when a stranger’s shoulder or hand brushes against yours on a packed train.

At social dances, the floor is spacious enough that you don’t really feel that kind of unease, but…

That’s one of the reasons why nobles tend to stick with familiar faces or members of their own faction.

It’s easier to be around people you know than total strangers.

I’m the same.

Still, if I keep hiding away like this, I might be branded a coward.

Maybe I should go make the rounds…

Just as that thought crossed my mind, I felt an intense pressure from behind.

The surrounding riding pressure shifted, and I could tell the nobles in my faction had tensed up.

“Princess Roselia. …How are you feeling?”

“Well if it isn’t Lord Thor.”

It was Thor-kun.

Compared to when I saw him last night, his magical power was surging.

Though rather than nerves or fear, it felt more like excitement.

The hunting event starts tomorrow—he must be getting hyped up.

Unlike dancing, hunting is an explicit act of violence, so it's only natural that it stirs aggression.

Which, of course, means the riding pressure intensifies.

…And that’s exactly why I’m no good at these hunting socials.

I’m a pacifist, after all.

“I’ll win the tournament—just as I vowed.”

Thor-kun placed his fist over his chest and made a firm vow to me.

My honest reaction was: Okay, but why are you making that promise to me?

Even if you win the hunting tournament, it doesn’t exactly make you more attractive. Or is that just me?

Would the noble girls of this world be like, “So dreamy, take me now!”?

…Maybe.

In this world, strength and courage are considered virtues.

It’s basically long live machoism!

“Oh? Then I suppose Lord Thor is my rival.”

A suspiciously smooth voice cut in.

It belonged to the second prince—Prince Bartona.

He’s currently the leading candidate to be my fiancé.

In fact, it’s practically a done deal at this point.

“I too aim to claim the honor of victory.”

He’s talking about the hunting tournament.

At least, that’s what he wants to sound like. But what he’s really saying is, “I won’t let you have Princess Roselia (of the Principality of Budoudarl).”

You’ve already practically won. No need to act so petty toward a child.

“…Very well. Let’s have a fair fight.”

For just a split second, I felt Thor-kun’s magical power bristle.

Just for an instant. Probably only I, being the closest to him, noticed.

S-Scary…

Still, being this close, I can tell—Thor-kun’s magic is pretty substantial.

He’s only twelve, but he’s almost on par with Prince Bartona.

I’m considered above average for my age too, but I’d still lose to Thor-kun.

He must have consumed quite a lot of magic barrier stones.

Those things cause excruciating pain when ingested (like getting a cavity treated without anesthesia), so it takes serious guts and determination to go through with it.

“Hey now, don’t go making plans without me.”

The one who spoke stood just behind Prince Bartona—a large-built man.

Compared to the slender Prince Bartona, his frame was solid and broad.

Where Bartona gave off a soft, reserved impression, this man radiated confidence and vitality.

His bearing came off as dignified—or maybe just arrogant.

He was the complete opposite of the mild-mannered Prince Bartona.

Still, something about his face looked vaguely familiar.

With a joking tone, he pointed to himself.

“I’m the one who’s going to win.”

That was the First Prince, Karvenil.

He’s twenty-four years old.

Technically, he’s also one of my potential fiancés. The king wants to marry me off to him.

However, my father is opposed to our marriage, so the chances of it actually happening are slim.

The reason being—he’s a promising heir to the throne.

Of course, that’s just the current reputation. There’s always a chance he could screw things up once he actually becomes king, but as of now, there are no bad rumors about him.

He’s been managing the territory entrusted to him by the king without incident.

The latest story I heard that speaks to his competence was about how he helped a knight who couldn’t afford a bride price—he supposedly pawned his own cloak to raise the money.

And indeed, he’s not wearing otter fur today, but sable.

That tale is likely not fiction—it’s probably true.

In short, he’s generous and openhanded.

That’s an essential quality for rulers in this world.

At the very least, it’s much better than being seen as a cheapskate.

No knight wants to fight under someone who looks like they’d be stingy with rewards.

Of course, just throwing money around doesn’t guarantee loyalty…

But if someone’s not willing to give even a coin, you don’t want to hear anything they have to say.

Other traits expected of royalty are sociability and courage…

At the very least, he’s not some gloomy introvert or a spineless coward.

So, with no major flaws, a surprisingly easygoing attitude, and a reputation for generosity, he enjoys strong support from the lords.

If we did get married, I’m sure he’d protect me and my domain with everything he’s got.

And then he’d end up more popular than I am, despite me being the woman.

The entire Principality of Budoudarl could get swallowed up under his control.

He’d dominate me in bed, and I’d become nothing more than a baby-making machine and his personal ATM.

I want no part of that future, thank you very much.

That said, I have danced with him a few times.

He’s my backup plan—Candidate No. 2.

Candidate No. 3 is Thor-kun, by the way.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten. But... before anything else, brother, we’re comrades in the hunt.”

“Oh, right. So we are.”

Prince Karvenil and Prince Bartona exchanged a cheerful laugh.

There are actually rumors that those two don’t get along.

There’s not much evidence to support that, but most of the kingdom’s nobles believe it.

Because, well, noble siblings are generally not known for getting along.

The family head’s wealth and power are massive, so succession battles tend to be fierce.

Even if the siblings themselves aren’t on bad terms, the surrounding nobles and knights will often stir up conflict.

It’s honestly harder not to fight.

To make things worse, Prince Karvenil and Prince Bartona have different mothers.

Karvenil’s mother passed away, and Bartona was born later to the king and his second wife.

With all these red flags, it’s no wonder the nobles start fantasizing: “The brothers must be bitter rivals, and the court is locked in a brutal succession war!”

In reality, there are quite a few nobles who support Bartona as the next king.

So whether they want to or not, the two of them are caught in a battle over the throne.

Of course, all of this is probably nothing more than baseless rumor.

They’re likely walking around together like this to crush those rumors.

The fact that I find it a little too deliberate might just mean I’ve been steeped in noble society too long.

That said, I personally don’t think their relationship is all that bad.

And I have a solid reason for thinking that.

Still… “comrades in the hunt,” huh?

Was he talking about magical beasts? The throne? …Or me?

It’s a suspicious turn of phrase, but I bet he meant it that way on purpose.

The very fact they can joke like that tells me they’re on good terms.

At the very least, I’d never talk like that with my stepmother.

Apparently, Thor-kun had interpreted “the prey we hunt together” as referring to me—Princess Roselia.

His magical pressure flared.

It seemed both Prince Bartona and Prince Karvenil noticed it too.

They each took a small step back.

…They probably hadn’t expected him to get that angry.

It wasn’t quite at the level of an all-out clash, but the mood had definitely grown tense.

…Should I try to smooth things over?

Say something like “Don’t fight over me!”

No, that would just make things even worse. So what is the right thing to say here…?

“Oh my, oh my. You’re all just going on and on without a care in the world—without including me!”

With a theatrical tone, a man strolled toward us.

Graceful, if you wanted to be generous; flashy and flippant, if not. Unbothered by the attention he drew, he made a dramatic declaration with exaggerated gestures.

“I shall be the one to win the tournament! Last year I came close with a runner-up finish, but this year—I am resolved to seize the champion’s cup.”

The young head of House Korkmool.

Deram el Korkmool.

Though he’s married, he lost his wife some time ago, and the position of duchess is currently vacant.

He too is one of my fiancé candidates.

The Korkmool Ducal House, along with Budoudarl, is one of the Three Great Houses that helped found the kingdom.

They command vast lands in the western region and lead the Korkmool faction.

In terms of family name and individual merit, he’s flawless.

Marrying him would come with the strategic benefit of flanking the royal family from both the east and west.

That alone would give our voice far more weight within the kingdom.

Our territories are far apart, which is also ideal.

It minimizes the risk of interfering in each other’s domestic affairs.

The only real downside is that it would take time for reinforcements to arrive if something happened.

Also, physical distance has a negative effect on... married life and sex.

When the engagement with the Second Prince was looking shaky, my father had me dance with Duke Korkmool a few times, either to line up a backup or to pressure the Second Prince into acting.

He’s my Backup Candidate No. 1.

Apparently, he also sees the political benefit in forming ties with House Budoudarl, and his response hasn’t been bad.

Though I doubt he’s seriously invested. It’s probably just for show.

“I’ll take down a magical beast larger than anyone else’s! Hahahaha!!”

Duke Korkmool let out a loud, deliberately silly laugh.

At first glance, it looked like he was completely ignoring the atmosphere, but in reality, he was reading it very well.

He must have sensed the rising tension and jumped in to redirect everyone’s attention onto himself.

And by clearly stating “magical beast,” he also succeeded in narrowing down what the “prey” the princes mentioned could mean—subtly steering it away from implications about the throne or myself.

As expected of a man shouldering a ducal house at just twenty-seven.

…His fashion sense is awful, though.

“Wasn’t it a giant serpent that you hunted last time?”

Playing along with his maneuver, I nudged the conversation in a lighter direction.

He gave a dramatic nod and launched into a boastful retelling of how he’d taken the snake down last year.

Then Thor-kun, unable to resist the competitive urge, jumped in: “I once defeated a whale-class magical beast!”

Adorable.

That said, it seemed the whole “Whale Beast” thing had stirred something in the hearts of the men.

The princes and even Duke Korkmool were all listening to Thor's story with great interest.

As for me… I’d already heard it before, so I kept my responses minimal, just nodding occasionally.

“Oh dear, it seems I’ve kept you all too long. Well then, everyone, I bid you good day.”

With an exaggerated gesture, Duke Korkmool bowed and took his leave.

After seeing him off, Prince Bartona turned back toward us.

“Then, I shall take my leave as well… Princess Roselia.”

“Yes.”

“I look forward to the fifth day.”

Prince Bartona smiled graciously, his gaze shifting to both me and… Thor, before elegantly walking away.

Thor scowled, glaring daggers at him, clearly displeased.

He really went out of his way to taunt us right at the end…

“Honestly, that man… Well then, I shall also be off. Sir Thor, I look forward to the fifth day. Let us put them to shame together.”

With that parting line, Prince Karvenil addressed Thor and strode off confidently with long strides, no doubt intent on catching up to Prince Bartona.

Looks like they’re planning to keep flaunting their friendship for a while longer.

“…Princess Roselia.”

“…Yes?”

“Even if you can’t see the stars, it doesn’t mean they’re gone.”

In other words, I won’t give up.

Declaring that, Thor let his cloak flare as he too walked away.

“…Haa.”

Apparently, I’d been more tense than I realized.

Maybe it was from being exposed to Thor’s aggressive magical energy, but my heart was pounding.

I took a discreet deep breath to steady it.

…It’s kind of hot.

By the way, some people might question whether it’s okay for me to have so many “backup suitors,” but really, there’s nothing wrong with it.

No one’s going to think I’m some kind of harlot over something like this.

It’s the same as when people take multiple university or job applications—who only applies to their first choice?

Prince Karvenil and the others also have their own “backup girls.”

Even if our marriage falls through, they’ll have no trouble getting married elsewhere.

Thor, though… I’ve never heard of him having a “backup girl.”

Apparently, he’s completely devoted to me.

Which kind of makes me feel guilty.

That said, the Larknoll ducal house is still seen by the nobles as “upstart savages,” so maybe he’s simply struggling to find a bride.

It’s possible he has someone back home.

Given their foreign origins, it’s probably smarter for them to secure their foundation through marriage with a vassal than by linking with outside nobility.

Thor probably doesn’t seriously believe he’ll end up marrying me anyway.

More like… he’s just taking a shot in the dark, like someone applying to a school they know they won’t get into.

Besides, at his age, it’s about time he had his first woman…

There’s no way he’s really that devoted to just me.

Still… I don’t know.

This weird, foggy feeling won’t go away.

It’s not like I’m thinking, I want to lose my virginity too! or anything…