Chapter 43

Stories of the Sand Kingdom’s temple piled up to the skies, the brilliance of the obelisk stretching toward the sun, the luxurious decorations of the sun palace covered in gold, tales of the king’s bedroom adorned with all sorts of jewels…

Arkin raised his eyes and looked at Nephitia. Under the shade of the hazel tree, Nephitia’s black hair, as she spoke in her clear and ringing voice, swayed gently in the blowing wind.

He hadn’t been getting enough sleep, so his mind must have truly snapped. He had vaguely thought it yesterday too, but strangely enough, Nephitia looked like a small squirrel.

With big golden eyes, and black and brown fur… a pretty squirrel.

Right now, that squirrel was chewing her lips and chattering away about something or another, but her words shattered into pieces and scattered to the winds at the edge of Arkin’s ears.

So… let’s think about this step by step again.

Calmly, Arkin began to ruminate on the already past information of the Kepet dynasty. Nephitia didn’t have a partner, yet she was keeping as many as sixteen consorts? Six was a lot already, what? Sixteen?

To carry on the line, sixteen men took turns entering her bedchamber? That child…

Arkin repeatedly swept over his reddened face. It seemed like everyone had lost their minds. They heard something like that and just let it slide?

Is that really okay? Am I the only one who thinks this is a problem? Does this make any sense? Is this okay?

With a flushed face, Arkin looked around. He couldn’t possibly be the only one who heard that serious detail. Everyone else seemed to be resting their chins on their hands and brushing Nephitia’s words off without showing any particular shock.

No, why are you all just sitting there? You pick fights to your heart’s content when other people are talking, don’t you?

Arkin suddenly spotted Seneca, who was dozing off with his eyes closed and nodding away, and Elio as well. Even Draconis, instead of picking a fight, was quietly dozing off as his head bobbed up and down.

Tsk, weak bastards, you’re falling asleep right now?

Clicking his tongue, Arkin turned his gaze back to Nephitia. Managing his turbulent insides and forcing himself to listen attentively, he found that she was now calmly talking about the absolute position of the Kepet monarch.

“The King of Kepet is not a mere ruler. The king is also a mediator connecting the heavens and the people, and there is not a single error in what we do.”

“Wow.”

As if dumbfounded, Petra clicked her tongue. Right now, the only ones awake were Petra, Arkin, Serena, and Princess Amalfi, who continued to stare down at her own fingernails.

Unfazed by that reaction, Nephitia continued speaking.

“The women of our royal family are special. The men merely play a role in assisting us. Among them, the most noble person of all is none other than me, Nephitia Himedin.”

No matter what anyone said, her face was full of pure pride. Nephitia stubbornly pressed on.

“The most important thing is that when I was born, I received a special oracle. I was born having received a prophecy that I ‘shall become a great king and write a new history.’ That is why everyone unanimously tells me I will become the most powerful ruler in Kepet’s history.”

Pausing to catch her breath, Nephitia continued with that characteristic proud voice of hers.

“In particular, our Great Temple was built with magma stone, a special stone that captures the light of the Sun God. This mystical material is a sacred resource that only Kepet can handle, and it was offered to us as a gift of goodwill by the Stoneguard Kingdom long ago.”

Nephitia smiled faintly and looked at Petra. It was a soft and generous smile, like looking upon a loyal retainer.

“In return for Stoneguard’s loyalty and devotion, our Kepet…”

“A gift of goodwill? Loyalty and devotion?”

Petra’s voice cut right through the space. Springing up from her seat, the Stoneguard princess glared intently at Nephitia with a huff.

“What…?”

“What’s wrong?”

At the sudden commotion, everyone’s faces shook off their drowsiness in an instant.

“Hey, Nephitia. What on earth are you talking about out of ignorance?”

Nephitia, who had stopped her presentation, looked at Petra with a puzzled expression. Whoosh. A wind blew past between them. A tight tension flowed.

“What do you mean?”

“Magma stone is by no means a gift of goodwill. You shouldn’t call it that when Kepet pressed us with absurd conditions and extorted it from us. Right?”

Petra pulled on the strap hanging around her neck and displayed it. A smooth pebble hanging from a thin leather cord flickered with a reddish light.

“Look, this is magma stone. It’s a rare mineral resource found exclusively in our territory, Stoneguard. The ancestors of Kepet forced a humiliating treaty upon us just to acquire this.”

“I don’t know about…”

As Nephitia’s face flushed with embarrassment, Petra sneered while glaring at her.

“You don’t know about it? Do you think there’s any way that’s true?”

“……”

“King Mahati, your mother, ought to know this all too well. You do nothing but blabber on about how the princess is protected by the Sun God, yet you don’t seem to know a single thing about reality.”

Petra poured on the attacks without a moment to breathe. At the very least, it was clear that the feelings she held toward Kepet were long-standing, deep-seated hatred.

“Nephitia, since you seem to have no idea about the situation back in your homeland, I’ll kindly fill you in. The King of Kepet, your mother Mahati, has been scrambling to recruit mercenaries from everywhere lately to reinforce the defense of the southern border. But nobody is helping Kepet. Why do you suppose that is?”

“The Stoneguard princess will refrain from making rude remarks.”

Her voice trembled, but Nephitia tried her utmost to maintain her dignity.

“My remarks are rude? Well now, is telling the truth considered rude?”

Petra sneered.

“It seems King Mahati raised her daughter by wrapping her excessively in cotton. To the point where she can’t face reality.”

“Since I have not yet succeeded to the throne…”

“Our pretty princess seems to have zero grasp of how the world works, but politics is something you’re supposed to learn and master before you ever sit on a throne.”

Petra snapped coldly at Nephitia.

“You lot, the Kepet Kingdom, are always like that. Living under the belief that only you are right and only you are blessed, so you can’t find a shred of manners anywhere. You act like it’s totally fine to inconvenience others or behave rudely.”

The tension between the two princesses became extremely taut, as if they might grab each other’s collars at any second.

“You learn how to philander with sixteen consorts so fast and get taught all about that, but you aren’t taught how the world actually turns—which is the most important thing of all—so it’s no wonder Kepet is getting increasingly isolated. I suppose it also explains why the princess has such filthy hands.”

“What did you say about my hands?”

Nephitia’s eyes wavered.

“Well, would you call that clean? Ever since we arrived on Credo Island, touching this man and that man all over the place so shamelessly… Isn’t that right, Arkin?”

Abruptly, Petra tossed the ball to him.

Arkin hardened his face. It was true that he had been troubled, but that didn’t mean he had the slightest desire to side with Petra at this very moment.

“I’m… fine, Petra.”

Was saying he was fine enough to settle it?

Arkin watched this scene with a complicated heart. The sight of Nephitia—who had seemed to boast absolute authority—being challenged for the first time felt unfamiliar yet somehow pitiful.

“Stop!”

Seneca’s resolute voice rang through the auditorium. The chief administrator stepped right in between the two princesses.

“The trainees’ presentation time is a place to introduce your respective kingdoms. It is not an arena for arguments and accusations.”

Seneca looked back and forth between Petra and Nephitia with cold eyes.

“Both of you, take your seats. And if this sort of thing is repeated going forward, I will impose sanctions in accordance with the training rules.”

Seneca tried to resume proceedings as if nothing had happened, but the atmosphere was already chillingly frozen.

“Today’s display by you lot was, how should I put it, truly a sight to behold in all its pathetic “glory.”

Stroking his scraggly beard with an indifferent face, Seneca evaluated today’s class.

“Before dinner, we will issue punishments for Princess Nephitia and Prince Zafiri’s tardiness from last time.”

“Oh, man… What kind of punishment? Can’t you just let it slide, you lack any flexibility at all.”

Zafiri grumbled, but Seneca cut him off firmly.

“During tomorrow’s ‘Meal of Humility’, you will be cleaning out the elephant pens.”