A Clumsy Start

Aspara had decided, as of yesterday, to shelve her worries about the castle lord for the time being. Right now, she was busy enjoying northern life to the fullest.

The furniture and food here were incomparably worse than in the south, but when it came to fun, there was far more to be had.

At Fang Castle, there were no power struggles between family members at the dinner table, no tedious paperwork, no pointless social gatherings.

“I never knew it could be this delightful to have no one around who speaks my language. If this is how it’s going to be, I’d be happy if the new interpreter didn’t arrive for another year.”

“Yes, yes. Is that so.”

“How about you? Getting along with Ugli?”

Aspara brought up the name of the person she had, until recently, suspected of being her husband’s mistress.

“Ah, please don’t bring that name up, honestly!”

“Have you kissed yet?”

“My lady, I am currently holding the reins of the horse you are riding!”

Aspara laughed merrily as she teased her cheeky escort knight.

“…Ahh, I should head inside soon. My body’s gotten quite cold.”

“Let’s do that.”

The two had been riding through the rear courtyard under Star’s watchful eye. Star was the girl who had helped Aspara dress the morning after her arrival, and at some point had become her personal maid.

But when they turned the horse around, standing beside the girl was something large and pitch-black that had definitely not been there a moment ago.

It was the castle lord of Fang Castle.

“What is that man doing over there? I wonder how long he’s been standing there.”

“Beats me.”

Clip-clop, clip-clop. Jack rode back through the castle’s rear gate and brought the horse to a stop.

Jack, who had been sitting at the front of the saddle, was just about to take Aspara’s hand to help her down.

Before he could, Gus dropped to one knee on the ground and propped up the other.

“Hmm?”

“— — —…”

“Ah, is he telling me to step on his knee to get down? Is that what this is?”

The gesture certainly suggested as much, but watching how stiffly his brows were drawn together, as though he were marching off to war, Aspara wasn’t entirely sure.

Jack hesitated too.

It did seem like that was what he meant, but if it wasn’t, the look on the man’s face said he’d lop Jack’s hands clean off.

“Uh… that’s… probably what it is.”

Aspara used the castle lord’s knee as a stepping stool and dismounted from the saddle.

Gus offered his knee but not his hand, and Aspara wobbled briefly as she came down.

“My husband appears to be about two steps short on manners. Still, Jackie — how do you say ‘thank you’ in the northern tongue?”

“Uh, — — —… I think?”

“— — —.”

The moment he received the thanks, Gus spun on his heel and walked away.

“— — —.”

“What did he say?”

“…I’m not sure. Honestly, that man’s voice is so low that I especially can’t tell.”

“Do study up, won’t you? You’ve even got yourself a lover here now. They say romance is the fastest way to learn a language…”

“Ah, I told you, we’re breaking up!”

Aspara laughed loudly as she watched her husband’s retreating figure disappear into the distance.

His silhouette, with the crown of his head conspicuously tall, lingered on the horizon for a very long time before finally vanishing.

After riding had left her body cold, the young lady returned to her room to warm up.

In Aspara’s room, which had originally been intended as the marital bedchamber, hung a portrait as large and dark as the room itself.

Against the dreary backdrop of the room, Gus glared out from the canvas with a sword at his hip, the right half of the painting gaping empty beside him.

It seemed they had been planning to fill in the other half once Aspara arrived.

“Empty.”

She didn’t mean just the vacant spot where a spouse should be.

It was the sort of composition typically used for a family portrait, yet the man stood there alone, and the effect was strikingly desolate. Jack’s words came back to her: the King of Barbarians was an orphan, without a single sibling, brother or sister.

“Having fewer is better than having too many. I would know that better than anyone.”

Aspara’s homeland, befitting a warm region, tended toward rather large families per household.

The nobility and royalty were the same or worse. Her own family was a case in point.

There were certainly more bastard children living somewhere out there, and in the main household alone there had been six. Once, seven.

“With that many, one disappearing hardly makes a difference.”

Aspara in particular, whose status as an illegitimate daughter was an open secret, had essentially been a neglected child. That was precisely why she’d been able to live like a deadbeat until the mining business affair.

But the bolt had been on the inside of the door.

“You mustn’t go out into the corridor. Even if you play in your room, keep the door shut and don’t set foot on the floor. You must not run around. You must not look out the window. Be careful of every step you take, every glance you give.”

“How should I walk? How should I look at things?”

“I don’t know either—”

The prematurely aged woman had shrugged and said:

“That’s why it’s easier to just keep the door closed.”

She did not resent the mother who had made her a neglected child. Because her mother had not been wrong.

The royal court’s officials and their inner circle would praise the second prince’s walk as brimming with energy and admirably spirited, yet when they saw the youngest princess walking, they would say her needlessly energetic stride made her look like a common foot soldier.

“But don’t let it get you down just because those people hate you. They don’t hate you because you’re a bad child, and they don’t love those others because they’re good children. They love because the circumstances call for love, and they hate because the circumstances call for hate.”

Aspara recalled the hazy image of her mother. Her hair had always been a little disheveled, because the inner court’s attendants used their time serving her mother to slack off without fear of a scolding.

Even so, her mother never fixed her own hair. Whether that was her last remaining pride or simply resignation, by now there was no way to know.

Looking back now, more than the other wives who had side-eyed her and her mother, it was her irresponsible father who disgusted her most: the man who had set his wives against each other in a contest of affection, then chided them for their jealousy while watching her mother deteriorate.

Even now, banished to the north, Aspara believed that her mother and her father’s wives could have been friends, had they met under different circumstances.

“So really, if he has someone else, I wish he’d just introduce them.”

Aspara revisited the thought that still hadn’t fully left her mind: the matter of her husband’s hidden lover.

There was no jealousy or resentment in her heart. There was no reason to be jealous over a man she didn’t love.

[To my dearest eldest Big Sis, from Jack.

Big Sis, how are you doin?

Your adorable little bro is not doin so well.

I mean, I TOLD you we should write resumes honestly. What even IS this, Big Sis, seriously.

Thanks to that one little lie in the language skills section, I am now getting my fill of snow, something that was never in the cards for me.

Boo hoo, it’s cold.

Please use your own money to send me some warm clothes, if you have any conscience at all.

And some tasty food too please. The people here, get this, they eat potatoes topped with potatoes alongside a side of potatoes.

And on top of everything, would you believe that a little while ago, I somehow ended up with a lover who doesn’t even speak my language? Something that was absolutely never in the cards.

I mean, sure, I used to go on and on about wanting a sweetheart, but this isn’t what I meant, Big Sis.

This barbarian who’s got nothing going for him except ginkgo-colored eyes somehow went and stole my first kiss too.

Now I’ve got no choice but to marry the wretch and give you grandchildren.

The truth is, on the way here, I ended up cutting off the interpreter’s head and…]

Jack’s hand stopped mid-letter on the balcony.

The lady was forging fake letters to send back to the main house, imitating the handwriting of the traitor whose head they had lopped off on the way north. The plan was to string along the second prince for as long as possible.

Upon hearing that plan, Jack had thought: Oh, good idea. In that case, maybe I’ll send a letter to Big Sis back home while I’m at it.

But I really shouldn’t let this information get out.

The interpreter, who had served as their strategist, had been beheaded on the journey here, leaving only a princess and a low-ranking knight stranded in exile with no one else. That truth would come to light eventually.

But that day had to be delayed as long as possible. With Aspara having no allies whatsoever, there was no telling what stance the other side might take.

“Well, from their perspective, it might actually be good news. Since we’re essentially under house arrest now, they might just leave us alone… but I want to delay anything that makes those bastards happy for as long as I can.”

That was what the lady had declared, before adding: “For now, the plan is to hold out until we’ve established some kind of footing here.”

Then I definitely shouldn’t write about that…

Jack scribbled furiously over the ink until the words were unreadable.

So what should he write about, then? After thinking hard, he wrapped up the letter by asking his Big Sis to send the next volumes of the romance novel series he’d been devouring back home, if they’d been released.

“…Your Big Sis’s adorable little brother, Jack, signing off. In haste… Jack Fruits.”

Jack looked at the finished letter with a satisfied smile.

Among the commoners of the south, where illiteracy was common, he was surely the only one who could write this well, or so he thought.

“All done.”

“— —?”

“Gah!”

Spinning around reflexively, Jack locked eyes with the very person he had just decided not to write about in his letter.

Standing on the other side of the balcony railing was Fang Castle’s attendant, Ugli.

“Oh, wh-what, it’s you.”

“— — — — —?”

He had both hands pressed tightly together, clasping something hidden inside.

“What’s that?”

When Ugli just grinned and refused to reveal what was inside, Jack wedged his fingers between his clasped hands and tried to pry them open.