Chapter 15

The fifth day of the hunting tournament, early morning.

As he tended to his favorite spear, Thor El Larknoll muttered to himself.

"Was Princess Roselia with Prince Bartona?"

"Young Master."

At the sound of someone calling him, Thor quickly looked up, startled.

The voice belonged to a man wearing a stern expression.

"Your anger is leaking through. You should be careful."

"…Knight Courtrail."

Knight Courtrail.

The man addressed by that name appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was a knight entrusted with protecting, assisting, and educating Thor.

"The lady you admire, Young Master, is like a calm lake. I hope you’ll become a man worthy of her."

Thor slightly raised an eyebrow at Courtrail’s sincere advice.

At the same time, his mana rippled faintly.

But it settled almost immediately.

"…I appreciate the counsel."

"Haha!"

At Thor’s words, Knight Courtrail bowed respectfully.

For nobles, emotional control—especially anger management—is of critical importance.

After all, magic can be influenced by emotion.

If someone senses, Ah, this person is angry, it can become a major diplomatic disadvantage.

It's essentially the same as leaking your most vital information during negotiations.

Even if the anger isn’t directed at the other party, the emotion alone can create discomfort.

It’s like constantly honking a car horn—vulgar and unpleasant.

Moreover, the older and more prestigious a noble house is, the better they tend to be at concealing their emotions and magical fluctuations.

That’s because mastering such control requires rigorous training from early childhood.

The more history a noble house has, the more educational techniques they’ve accumulated—and the more capable tutors they can afford to hire into their courts.

In short, your breeding shows through.

Letting anger leak out implies your upbringing is lacking.

Of course, emotional and magical control also depends on individual disposition, so being a high-ranking noble doesn’t guarantee mastery.

However, Roselia was the kind of noble who never brought shame upon her house—perfect in every sense.

Any noble who faced her would be awed by how flawlessly she contained her mana, not even a ripple betraying her feelings.

They would sense in her the authority of one of the greatest noble houses of the Western Continent—the House of Duke Budoudarl.

And behind that gentle smile, they would imagine all manner of hidden schemes and conspiracies—and tremble in fear.

As for Thor, while his mana control wasn’t exactly praiseworthy, it wasn’t bad enough to draw criticism either.

Given his age, most would say, Well, he’s doing okay, or He’s trying his best.

That is, except when it comes to matters involving Roselia—then things tend to get a little sloppy.

"…So, is it safe to say Princess Roselia is set to marry Prince Bartna after all?"

"He's likely the leading candidate."

"Ugh…"

"But it depends on the political climate. Princess Roselia has been carefully avoiding any clear statements. At the last social gathering, she danced with Prince Karvenil as well."

Indeed, while Roselia seemed receptive to a marriage with Bartna, her behavior always maintained an escape route.

She left herself room to say, I'm sorry, that’s not what I meant.

At the same time, she hinted at the possibility of marriage with other great nobles—Thor included.

"She fully understands that her marriage will influence the balance of power across the continent. She recognizes that the stability and equilibrium of the continent ultimately benefit her house, and she’s acting to maximize that benefit."

At Courtrail’s words, Thor furrowed his brows.

"You don’t need to tell me. The interests of House Larknoll come first. …There’s nothing wrong with not hiding my feelings, is there?"

Thor was in love with Roselia.

And he made no attempt to hide it. But that didn’t mean his feelings were purely emotional.

It was, in part, a form of diplomacy.

You said you’d marry me, didn’t you? That’s why I called a truce. What? That wasn’t your intention? Well, it was mine. You saw how I acted, didn’t you? Are you saying you deceived me? Wow… I’m hurt. I’m breaking the truce. Let’s go to war.

If you want forgiveness, pay reparations.

Or marry me.

It was, in essence, the setup for making such a claim.

Precisely because everyone involved understood it as a diplomatic strategy, the nobles and knights aligned with House Larknoll did not reprimand Thor for his courtship of Roselia.

In fact, the situation had reached a point where both Roselia and Duke Budoudarl had to handle Thor’s affections with extreme care—meaning it was producing tangible diplomatic effects.

…Though, if anything, the “diplomatic strategy” had become more of a pretense at this point.

"Yes… please continue applying diplomatic pressure and extract the greatest possible benefit."

"Of course."

And that greatest possible benefit was marriage to Roselia.

Marrying Roselia meant acquiring vast lands.

For a noble, aiming for that was the rational course of action. …Although in Thor’s case, what he truly wanted wasn’t the territory—it was Roselia herself.

"For that purpose, may I offer a suggestion?"

"Go on."

"Please build a stronger relationship with Prince Karvenil."

On the fifth day, Thor was scheduled to be paired with Prince Karvenil.

The royal family's intentions were clear: for the future head of House Larknoll and the future king to foster goodwill between them.

Thor had no desire to antagonize the royal house, so he was approaching the match with a positive attitude.

It wasn’t something he needed to be advised on.

"…Explain your reasoning."

"It will help obstruct the marriage between Princess Roselia and Prince Bartona."

"…I don’t believe we should be swayed by rumors."

Thor considered the alleged animosity between Prince Karvenil and Prince Bartona to be nothing more than hearsay.

From the outside, the two seemed to get along well.

Just yesterday, they had teamed up to bring down a massive magical bear.

A feat that would be difficult to pull off without excellent coordination.

"It’s not a rumor."

Courtrail offered a quiet smile.

"It’s my prediction."

“There doesn’t seem to be much game around.”

“Indeed. We may have better luck a little deeper in. …This area was already thoroughly hunted by Bartona and myself, you see.”

Prince Karvenil El Parteria, First Prince of the Western Royal Kingdom, said this with a lighthearted smile.

Thor also returned the smile and nodded along, while inwardly grumbling.

(…So they really do get along, huh.)

Thor, too, had half-brothers.

Unlike Karvenil and Bartona, who were both born of the legitimate queen, Thor's relationship was more like that of Roselia and Delawear—between a legitimate and an illegitimate child. Because of that, there were often rumors that they didn’t get along.

Thor’s mother, in particular, suspected that those brothers were scheming to steal the ducal title that rightfully belonged to Thor.

Thor himself didn’t believe that was the case, but his mother’s suspicions ran deep.

Ordinarily, there was a hard wall between legitimate and illegitimate children.

Even if acknowledged by their father, illegitimate children were never treated as official heirs.

Which meant they couldn’t inherit territory—because they had no legal right of succession in the first place.

…That said, such customs varied slightly depending on the region and culture.

Among the Garzaarth people, the status of illegitimate children was relatively high.

They could publicly call themselves the siblings of legitimate heirs.

And most importantly, Thor’s father—the Duke of Larknoll—had already set a “bad precedent.”

Given all that, Thor’s mother had every reason to be wary.

Conversely, Thor’s older brothers suspected his mother.

To them, Thor’s mother and her family were outsiders—maternal relatives.

They feared that she was manipulating the still-young and inexperienced Thor from behind the scenes, trying to snatch the family estate for herself.

On top of this familial discord, the Duchy of Larknoll was rife with internal strife: Garzaarth nobles vs. native nobles, veteran retainers vs. new ones, provincial knights vs. urban knights, and military officers vs. civil officials—all of them clashing over vested interests.

Thor found himself caught in the middle of these domestic power struggles and was suffering constant stress.

That was why he felt a sense of sympathy for Karvenil.

Being painted as at odds with his own brother and used as a pawn in internal factional battles—Thor knew that pain all too well.

“Still… you’re taking us quite deep into the forest.”

“There’s a rather good spot, you see.”

Guided by Karvenil, Thor and the others continued deeper into the woods.

For a moment, Thor wondered if it was truly safe to venture this far. But he brushed the thought aside—The attending knights are with us. It should be fine.

Showing fear and stopping now would only make him look weak—and more importantly, it would be rude to Karvenil.

Besides… Thor had confidence in his own combat ability.

He was certain that, before an assassin’s blade could even pierce his body, his own fist would have already shattered Karvenil’s skull.

“Well? Lord Thor. Isn’t it quite the sight?”

“Oh… this is truly spectacular.”

The place Karvenil led them to was a great waterfall.

It was the source of the river that ran through this forest.

The two of them dismounted and took in the majestic view.

“This waterfall is the mana fountainhead of the forest. That’s why many large beasts gather here. …Most nobles aren’t as brave as you, Lord Thor. They wouldn’t come this far.”

“…I had hoped to show it to Bartona as well, but alas.”

Karvenil spoke those words in a murmur, with a smile that showed no trace of regret.

“Oh? I see. …True, the mana here is so dense it makes detection difficult.”

“And the sound, too. …Voices don’t carry well.”

After saying that, Karvenil chuckled quietly to himself.

Then he casually raised one hand.

That motion served as a signal, and the knights attending Karvenil began to withdraw from the area.

Now left in that place were Thor, his own attending knight, and Karvenil alone.

“I’d like to ask for some privacy.”

“Very well. …You heard him. Step back.”

“…Heh.”

At Thor’s command, his attendant knights, starting with Courtreil, withdrew from the area.

They kept a distance of about a hundred meters, hands resting on their sword hilts.

Thor and Karvenil were now alone.

“You are truly courageous, Lord Thor.”

“So—what is this really about?”

“…Have you ever tasted Roselia Wine?”

“I had some during the truce, yes.”

It wasn’t uncommon for nobles to have tasted Roselia Wine.

After all, it had been served multiple times during the current social gathering.

All nobles who had visited the tent of the Duke of Budouddar as guests had taken at least a sip or two.

That said, the only ones gifted bottles to take home were the royal family and the House of Larknoll.

In that sense, Roselia Wine was a fitting diplomatic token when the royal house and the House of Larknoll sat down to discuss their policies toward the House of Budouddar.

“Oh? Is that so. It’s a fine drink. Beautiful in both color and aroma… a wine worthy of its name.”

“…Indeed.”

“But I was misled by its appearance and paid the price. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but the first time I drank it, I choked. …A bit too strong for me. Diluting it with hot water makes it easier to enjoy the bouquet, I’ve found.”

Roselia herself was completely unaware, but many nobles saw her as a “strong-willed woman.”

That was because she always talked back.

Roselia’s looks, demeanor, and first impressions gave the appearance of a refined and sheltered noble lady, so many men were caught off guard by her true strength of character.

That said, in noble society—especially among the men—this was generally seen as a good thing.

Male nobles didn’t look for romantic allure in a wife; they sought someone reliable as a political ally and business partner.

In times of crisis, a woman crying out “My prince, save me!!” with a Cinderella complex was far from ideal.

Of course, as a love interest, being fragile and delicate had its appeal.

“…She recommended drinking it straight, saying that was the best way to enjoy the aroma.”

Unable to read Karvenil’s intentions, Thor assumed the topic remained on the wine, not Roselia herself, and replied accordingly.

In response, Karvenil nodded deeply, with a theatrical air of admiration.

“Truly bold. As expected of Lord Thor. My father and younger brother also tried to act tough and drank it straight, but it was clear they were forcing themselves.”

“…What exactly are you trying to say?”

Thor, beginning to lose his patience, asked the question directly.

Karvenil showed no irritation at his bluntness; in fact, his expression even hinted at approval.

“I believe you are the one most suited to her.”

“…!”

Thor’s eyes widened at Karvenil’s words.

The unexpected statement caused a ripple of mana to stir faintly around him.

“You and I both face the same kind of problem. It’s entirely possible for us to share in the benefits.”

“…And what benefit do you gain?”

“You’ll serve as a shield to protect the kingdom—and support me from behind.”

“…”

While Thor was still weighing his reply, Karvenil gave a relaxed smile.

“No need to decide right away. Take your time and think carefully. However…”

Karvenil leaned in and whispered by Thor’s ear:

“I can wait. But whether she will wait… I cannot say. Do not forget that.”

“…”

Thor’s mana surged violently.

Unable to hide the storm of emotions within him, the young boy stood exposed—at whom Karvenil smiled gently.

“Shall we resume the hunt? …We can’t very well let Bartona win, can we?”