The Plan.

The Plan.

《Round about this season, even the floor of the woods turns dry and firm, does it not.》

《In the woods…》

《Yes — in the woods, the mood became, well, rather a fine one. We happened upon a nice flat patch of ground, and we sat there side by side, leaning back, and there…》

《Ohh.》

《There… I told my wife that I adore her.》

《….》

《….》

《And then?》

《Well, and then…》

Gus rubbed at the back of his neck as if to ask whether he really had to spell it all out, and answered.

《My wife… my wife also said that she adored me.》

Ugli waited for the castle lord to spin out a little more of the tale. But the man only smiled, smug and satisfied, finished tidying the room, and walked out.

The meeting wrapped up entirely with that. Ugli set out to deliver the translated copy of the cleaned-up minutes to Aspara.

“…and so, the tunnel matter passed unanimously. Construction will begin as soon as the budget allocation is in place.”

“It went through more easily than I would have thought.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Whether or not you bewitched the castle lord, mind you, — Ugli barely managed to swallow the rest of that thought.

“Hmm….”

It was hard to tell whether she was pleased or not. After a long pause, Aspara at last opened her mouth.

“…I am always grateful to you.”

“For what?”

“I know that the castle lord gives me special treatment. From the position of one of his close confidants, that cannot be a happy thing for you.”

So she does know, Ugli thought, and instinctively flinched a little back.

“Not particularly… no, not at all. And anyhow, what is there to be grateful for in that?”

“There are many people in this place who dislike me and are a little unkind to me on that account. I know that, too. At the same time, there have been those who have been fond of me and shown me kindness.”

The lady gently took his right hand in both of her own and spoke.

“But you are not the only one who dislikes me yet shows me kindness all the same.”

“Wha— what are you saying!”

He started, and snatched his hand back.

“I am not kind.”

“And the dislike — that, you do not deny?”

“That is… no. Not particularly.”

Ugli was thrown. What on earth, all of a sudden — was she sounding him out? — even his sharp wits could not quite turn over properly under the shock.

“It is easy to be kind to those one likes. But to keep kindness and courtesy even toward those one dislikes — that is the mark of a good person. You are a good child.”

“I am not at the age to be called such things.”

“Hoho — being a good child has nothing to do with age.”

Ugli felt — well, he felt rather pleased. No — not pleased. Not pleased at all. He shook his head the way a horse shakes its mane and thought to himself. Yes — no, not at all pleased. To have his efforts acknowledged by this woman was not in the least pleasing. He felt no pride, no shyness, none of it.

“Even if what you say is true, it is strange to be grateful to someone who dislikes you, is it not.”

“To dislike a person comes upon one as helplessly as to like a person. It cannot be helped. What matters is not letting that helpless feeling take hold of one’s bearing.”

Aspara, smiling softly, drew her hands back.

“I am rather poor at it, myself.”

“It seems to me that you do it quite well.”

“Hoho, do you think so?”

“Even with the castle lord, you—”

Knock, knock. The sound of a heavy hand at the door cut into their conversation.

“Come in.”

“My lady, well — there’s a visitor.”

The knight Jack had opened the door and stepped inside. He looked flustered, or perhaps anxious, worrying at his lower lip.

“A visitor?”

“A guest has come.”

“Pretend to be busy. Go and fetch Volmo—”

“No, an interpreter won’t be needed.”

He swallowed hard and went on.

“The visitor is an envoy party from the south.”

“From the south, you mean….”

He blew out a deep breath that filled both his cheeks, then said:

“Folk from our home country have come.”

“…what in the world is the meaning of this?”

“It— it— it is just— just as I s— said, my lady.”

So spoke the head of the envoy party from the south.

They were swaddled in the very thickest clothing one could buy in the southern markets.

Which was to say, they were dressed in the very thinnest clothing one could buy in the northern markets.

Watching the envoys shudder and shiver, Aspara thought to herself.

Jack was the same when he first came.

She did not bother to have extra fires lit or to fetch them outerwear. Aspara only wished for these people to leave as quickly as possible.

“So… one moment. Could you put it in order for me? I am having trouble understanding. Just how many elder siblings do I have….”

“Most of your brothers and sisters have, in recent years, abruptly — well, met their ends in sudden accidents.”

Sudden accidents indeed. Without question, the second brother had handled it. Just as he had shoved Aspara herself into this backwater, he had simply tidied away anyone in the family who stood the slightest chance of inheriting the throne.

“All except my second brother.”

“Just so, my lady, but — but, well, the second-eldest has recently…”

The head of the envoy party spoke with cautious deference.

“…fallen from his horse.”

A fall from horseback. For a man who had murdered his way through his own kin to monopolize power, that was a remarkably shabby cause of death.

“And so, the conclusion is…”

“Yes, the conclusion….”

He sighed, as though he himself did not wish to say it.

“The first heir of the royal house is now you, Lady Aspara.”

“Hah.”

What in the world is going on.

The second brother, who had fought so very hard for his place — had karma at last slapped him across the face? He had grown too cold, now, to sit upon a throne.

Had he still been alive, he would have torn up the law itself to make certain that even his corpse could be crowned king. Regrettably, he was no longer in any condition to propose new legislation.

“Hah… truly….”

Even the reason Aspara had become first heir was absurd. Every one of the other formidable claimants had been thoroughly throttled and buried three feet beneath the earth by the second brother.

The only one whose fate had ended at mere banishment was Aspara, the one with absolutely no will to enter the contest for the throne.

‘I survived because they thought me beneath notice. Lucky me.’

Aspara looked out the window. No, she gazed at her own glittering reflection in the glass. A woman with an utterly unmoved expression looked back at her.

‘Let the homeland burn, for all I care.’

Aspara flinched, startled by the thought that had risen unbidden in her own mind.

But it could not be helped. To her, the homeland had been a place she felt no particular attachment to, no particular love for. The only friend she had ever made there was now, with her, in the north.

What became of the homeland soil mattered nothing to her. Even less did she wish to go back and live there.

The lady paused for a moment, drew a deep breath, and tried to compose her feelings.

She had to do something, somehow. But not a single thought came to her. She did not even feel the urgency that should have come from having to decide quickly.

Aspara only sat there clicking her nails together, tidying up a hangnail.

‘Even going down only as far as the central kingdom feels suffocating — and the homeland, of all places.’

“Erm, Princess.”

“By when would you like me to give my answer?”

“The owner of the throne must descend before the moon has fully waned, my lady.”

“Understood. I will be in touch, so please return for now. You should not so casually visit another nation’s capital.”

Aspara waved her hand back and forth in a flutter, gesturing for them to withdraw.

“If you would rather not freeze to death on the way home, you might buy yourselves some coats from the market just outside. They do not take central currency, but they will take gold coin! Safe travels.”

At Aspara’s gesture, Jack and Volmo, who had been guarding the parlor door, pressed their hands to the guests’ backs and ushered them out.

The party of six or seven was shooed outside in a blink. The moment the heavy parlor door slammed shut with a bang, Aspara let the tension drain from her body and slumped down deep into her chair.

“Well — that was something else.”

“You can say that again. To think the second-eldest’s reach went that far… so that was why Flower was trying to get back together.”

Aspara at last felt the puzzle beginning to fit together.

‘Well of course — there was no chance he was suddenly fond of me. So that’s how it lines up. Yes — that makes sense.’

“What will you do, my lady?”

Aspara, who had been still for a while, answered as if muttering to herself.

“…I sell.”

“Sell?”

“Yes.”

“Sell what? The throne?”

Volmo, who had been listening from the side, cried out in shock.

“You sell something like that?”

“It is not so rare a thing. The south is an archipelago, you know. There must be at least fifty thrones there, all told. The weight of the crown is rather light.”

“Right, royals are dead common. Why d’you think every other neighboring country in those novels has a princess turning up by the dozen, and any prince wanderin’ by saves the lot of them. That’s because royals are everywhere.”

“Eh….”

The half-blood youth stood frozen and dazed, his face the picture of someone whose illusions had been smashed to pieces.

“To rule one of the southern islands as king is to be worth less than even a moderately well-off rich man of the central kingdom. That is exactly why marrying a southern princess became all the rage among the wealthy of the central kingdom — that was how little it amounted to.”

“There was a fashion for that?”

“I was just such a case myself.”

Aspara stretched out both arms in a long yawn.

“All the same, when sold it brings in a fair sum. Ah — yes. That ought to cover the cost of this tunnel construction as well.”

As though it were a very fine idea indeed, Aspara smiled brightly and gestured to Volmo.

“Hurry and pass the word to the castle lord — he will be very pleased.”