Chapter 35

A knight is much like an actor standing on a stage.

While they are cheered and idolized as the stars of the show, their actual roles and lines are dictated by a playwright who never sets foot on the stage themselves. True rulers are always found standing quietly in the shadows, inconspicuous, sometimes even dressed in a way that invites the scorn of others.

Every time Lucas looked at his brother, he couldn’t help but think exactly that.

“My, my, what is this? The dashing heartthrob and valiant knight of Luden—the Prince Brother who is rumored to be more fit for the throne than the King himself—why such a weary face?”

“…You don’t mean a word of that.”

The cunning playwright was this very man. It had been about a month since his coronation. In the first week, he had purged the “inconvenient” old retainers, starting with Rottner, and effortlessly established a comfortable power base for himself. Now, King Felix von Ludendorff spent his days in a state of lethargy, like a sleeping lion.

He had disguised the brilliant purge he executed at his coronation as a story of “all thanks to my capable brother and his subordinates,” and since then, he continued to wear his mask of a fool-king.

In Felix’s private chambers, where Lucas had been frequently summoned since the coronation, Lucas sat down with a scowl.

“So? What is your business this time, summoning me so early in the morning? Let me be clear: investigating tax-delinquent territories and mediating noble feuds are well outside a knight’s jurisdiction. I’m done being worked to the bone under the excuse of ‘You’re a knight, so help your inexperienced King-brother.’”

“Ehh, don’t say such sad things. The people would much rather have their problems solved by a handsome man like you than by someone like me. And I’d be happy to relax—I mean, I’d be happy to see proper resource allocation. It’s a win-win for everyone, isn’t it?”

“Where exactly is my win?”

Lucas muttered under his breath, but Felix ignored him with practiced grace.

“Indeed, I’m truly blessed to be surrounded by such capable people. Most problems are solved instantly the moment I hand them to you. It’s truly wonderful.”

“…It’s one thing to involve me, but could you please stop dragging that girl into this?”

Lucas’s sharp features darkened with displeasure, and his voice dropped.

Indeed, ever since Felix realized the utility of a certain maid during the turmoil on the eve of the coronation, he had tried to exploit her—Elma—at every opportunity. When Felix had tried to talk her into performing a pseudo-honeytrap by telling her, “It’s ‘normal’ to follow the King’s direct orders with everything you’ve got,” Lucas had sensed the danger, turned pale, and put a stop to it.

If he tried to set a honeytrap to get leverage over a neighboring country’s minister, there was no doubt—with her “quality,” the entire nation would collapse. It had been about two months since Elma was released into the world via pardon. Lucas, who knew her abnormality better than anyone, could not allow Elma to be used as a seductress—partly as a man, but mostly out of a sense of guardian responsibility.

As a result, the work intended for Elma often bounced back to Lucas with a “Well, then you get the leverage instead,” leaving him with no time to sleep lately.

“Ehh, but after you and the Head Maid gave her new orders, she went back to hiding that beautiful face behind those boorish glasses, didn’t she? I was hoping that if I did this, I might get another glimpse of that lovely face.”

“Please do not court a national crisis for such a reason. Besides, you work us too hard. …The loose-lipped and the restless have even started approaching me instead of you, Brother.”

“Ahaha, well, that’s exactly the goal.”

A move to incite division so soon after the coronation. Lucas had intended to speak with caution, but Felix dismissed it easily. He likely intended to finish draining the pus left over from the previous King’s reign.

“It’s fine. If there are second or third traitors like Rottner, I want to identify and deal with them early. Hehe, but well, ambitious vassals are often quite capable, so I have to be careful not to ‘thin the herd’ too much.”

“…”

Lucas shrugged in silence. This brother was cunning, ruthless, and unscrupulous, but the governing philosophy at his core was far more sound and noble than any of the previous Kings. And that was exactly why Lucas couldn’t bring himself to fully oppose Felix. The most he could do was distance himself from the center of power—though even that was being forcibly undone by his brother.

“—Pardon the intrusion.”

At that moment, a polite call came from beyond the door, and Lucas turned his head. With permission, a small maid with impressive thick-lensed glasses and tightly pulled-back hair entered the room alongside her senior, Irene.

Elma. The other member of the “Felix Victims Association.”

Currently disguised in such a plain fashion, it was almost impossible to believe she was the key player in the former Marquis’s capture and Felix’s most capable pawn.

‘Honestly, I wonder every time: where in that small frame is the physical strength to take down a bear in a single blow hidden?’

Watching Elma stand petite at the entrance of the spacious royal chambers, Lucas’s mind wandered. No, it wasn’t just a bear she had taken down. Just the other day, she had captured a hawk soaring high above by flicking a bean at it, and she had paralyzed a giant serpent monster released in the knights’ training ground with a single whistle.

Come to think of it, when he happened to pass near the maids’ dormitory late the other night, he had spotted her surreptitiously building a bonfire to roast something. She had destroyed the evidence in an instant, and she only averted her eyes, saying, “I just missed the taste of summer,” but if his eyes hadn’t deceived him, wasn’t the thing skewered in her hand a Kraken’s tentacle—?

‘…No, let’s stop.’

Lucas forcibly cut off his train of thought. It was dangerous to interact with this girl while holding onto values like “common sense” or “normal.” It would only lead to exhaustion.

“—Maid Irene. As per your orders, I have brought Maid Elma.”

Irene, who had been bowing beside Elma, made as if to quietly leave the room, her duty finished. But Felix’s lighthearted voice stopped her.

“Ah, wait a moment. I’d like your help with this as well, Irene.”

“…My help, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.”

While Felix maintained his “foolish” persona throughout the castle, he didn’t bother pretending around Irene and the others, whose true natures had been exposed during Rottner’s arrest. He wore a smile that was the definition of cunning and spoke with a suspicious air, causing Irene to pull back her chin warily.

“I fear that, unlike Elma, I do not possess the ability to respond to Your Majesty’s… ‘special’ requests.”

“Hahaha, you just put the meaning of ‘insane’ into that ‘special,’ didn’t you? You’re quite bold toward the King of a nation. Don’t worry, it’s exactly because of that boldness—and your reasonably pretty face—that I have something to ask of you.”

“…”

Truly, there was no man better at irritating others. Irene’s face twitched, and a chill even began to emanate from her, but Felix didn’t care. He turned back to the three of them and spread his arms.

“Good news, you three. This time, it’s a perfectly sound and peaceful request. I want you to go and inspect the territory of the Margrave of Frenzel.”

“The Frenzel Territory?”

Lucas knit his brows, quickly summoning his knowledge of the area.

The Frenzel Territory. Located in the northwest of Luden, it was a land famous for its wine. The soil was fertile, but it was plagued by frequent interference from magical beasts and insects. Since ancient times, the residents had carved out the land by fighting them, building a unique culture in the process. Consequently, it had functioned almost as an independent small state until the King of Luden, eyeing their high-quality wine, forcibly conquered and annexed it nearly a hundred years ago.

Because of that history, the Frenzel Territory was hostile toward the Royal Capital. The Capital, in turn, found them difficult to handle and provided almost no subsidies to the region. Normally, a “Margrave” would be a count among counts, possessing power rivaling a Marquis, but in the case of Frenzel, it literally meant “a noble of the frontier.”

“Is there finally a scent of rebellion?”

“Who knows? The current head of the Frenzel family is known for his brilliance; as a child, he drove the Demon Moths out of the territory with his ingenuity. I find it hard to believe such a gentleman would recklessly bare his fangs at the Kingdom… but then again, there’s always the possibility that he’s defying us precisely because he’s confident.”

Felix pulled a bottle of wine from a nearby sideboard, poured it carelessly into a glass, and swirled it around.

“The discord within the Frenzel family is famous, and the hearts of the people have already begun to drift away from the head of the house. Even if a rebellion were staged in such a state, it would be doomed to fail. So, I’m not particularly worried about that… but rumors say the current head occasionally slips out of the manor in the middle of the night to conduct strange experiments.”

“Experiments, you say?”

“Yes. Apparently, he’s pouring sludge into marshes and summoning the Demon Race—or something to that effect?”

“The Demon Race…”

The Demon Race was a species that was supposed to have long since gone extinct; they were creatures that now existed only in novels. To summon such things…

Lucas took on a skeptical expression, but at the same time, it made sense. Because of its history of battling monsters, the Frenzel Territory was predisposed to loathe anything associated with the demonic.

“If there’s even a hint of suspicious behavior, the people surely can’t help but find fault with it—even if it’s their own Lord.”

“Was the accuser a local citizen?”

“Quite. When people gather from all over the country, rumors gather accordingly. At the recent ball, when the Margrave’s family arrived for the procession, didn’t you notice the servants from the Frenzel Territory grimacing and whispering to one another in distaste?”

“…”

Lucas found his eyes widening in spite of himself.

So, this brother of mine made that ridiculous statement about ‘wanting to invite citizens from across the nation to the coronation ball’ just to gather intelligence from the entire country?

As expected, this man was not to be underestimated—

“Indeed. When facing the Margrave of Frenzel and his family, it was very striking to see the servants from that region refer to them by the code names ‘The Gloomy Lord,’ ‘The Ugly Daughter,’ and ‘The Sickly Son,’ while simultaneously flashing micro-expressions of uniform contempt and loathing.”

“…How many times do I have to tell you to stop reading micro-expressions like you’re breathing?”

Lucas reflexively retorted, though he corrected himself internally. No, the one who truly shouldn’t be underestimated is this girl. She had been dancing so intensely; when on earth did she have the spare capacity to observe all of that?

“Um…”

At that moment, Irene, who had been listening solemnly, spoke up hesitantly.

“How does that involve me as well?”

It was a reasonable question. Facing the maid whose wariness was plain to see, Felix gave a charming tilt of his head.

“Ah, well, you see. It would be a bit embarrassing for the Royal Family to send the Knights in with an attitude of ‘We suspect you immensely.’ So, I’m thinking of having Lucas enter the territory this time not as a Company Commander or the King’s brother, but simply on a leisurely vacation trip. In his case, it would look more natural if he were accompanied by, say, a pretty daughter of a lower-ranking noble.”

“…”

Lucas, who had in fact visited the estates of familiar nobles in the company of low-ranking noble widows before, could find no words to strike back.

“Pretending to be lovers…? Oh! In that case, you should certainly use Elma—”

“No. Her true face stands out too much, and in her glasses, there would be a disconnect with the cover story. I have high expectations for her as a combat asset, but she’s a ‘no’ as Lucas’s partner.”

“As for myself, I would like to respectfully decline the role of a playboy’s lover.”

Irene, seemingly excited by a situation straight out of a romance novel, raised her voice suddenly, but she was cut off from both sides—by Felix and Elma themselves. The latter’s rebuttal stung Lucas’s heart in a subtle way.

“Well, that’s the gist of it. To ensure your reputation as an unmarried woman doesn’t suffer, I’ll handle the information control at the castle, and I’ll pay you handsomely. Do your best. I’ll be busy keeping the throne warm.”

“With all due respect, every citizen in the nation is busy this time of year. I thought I’d finally be able to go home during the long Harvest Festival break… you will be adding a special allowance, won’t you?”

Irene filed her grievance with a dissatisfied look as Felix tried to force a conclusion. Hearing this, Elma tilted her head curiously.

“The Harvest Festival? …What is that?”

The term “Harvest Festival” itself seemed entirely unfamiliar to her. Irene whipped around toward Elma, questioning her as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Elma! You mean to tell me you don’t know about the Harvest Festival!?”

“Well, judging by the name, I assume it’s a festive occasion, but in prison, we generally didn’t celebrate anything.”

“You say that, but it’s a festival to give thanks for the year’s bounty. You can’t really mark the end of the harvest year without some kind of celebration. Surely there was a vegetable garden or a farm in the prison to provide food?”

When Lucas pointed this out skeptically, Elma blinked in confusion.

“You speak of marking the year, but it seems strange to define a year by the harvest, doesn’t it?”

“…What was that?”

“Eh? I mean, isn’t it ‘normal’ to be able to harvest vegetables and grains all year round? At least, that’s how it was in the prison.”

In Walzer Prison, where the mad scientist Horst performed genetic modifications and mobilized all prisoners to maintain strict greenhouse cultivation, seasonal vegetables were available for harvest year-round.

Unaware of this, Lucas and the others unconsciously knit their brows.

“…What did you say?”

“…Excuse me?”

Irene also asked again, looking bewildered.

“E-Even if the prison garden was an incredibly fertile environment… but it’s the Harvest Festival! It’s the biggest event of the year! Surely you did something?”

“What kind of ‘something’?”

“Well… families gather to reflect on the year, people dance, new wine barrels are opened, and people introduce their lovers or close friends—well, maybe that last part is impossible in prison, but something like that! Or buying small gifts for each other at the market… there are all sorts of things, all sorts!”

Elma listened to this information with great interest, thought for a moment, and then clapped her hands together.

“Ah. Now that I think about it, once a year there was a gathering where all prisoners were summoned. We would reflect on who had been the most rebellious prisoner that year, and then have them dance on the rooftop railings or submerge them in a wine barrel. Perhaps that was it.”

“That is absolutely NOT it!!”

Terrified by the brutal environment of the prison that lived up to its rumors, Irene screamed out.

“What a horrifying place! The guards’ wickedness is beyond demonic. They completely trample upon the dignity of the prisoners!”

“…”

Elma found herself unable to mention that the ones doing the trampling were also the prisoners.

Irene took on a solemn expression, gripped Elma’s sleeve tightly, and spoke in a serious voice.

“Listen, Elma. You really shouldn’t go back to a prison like that; you should stay here forever. Let’s complete this order together. I want to spend more time with you and teach you all about what is ‘normal’ in this world.”

“…Uh, well.”

Elma pulled back her chin, looking a bit flustered. She was a woman of superior insight who could read micro-expressions and identify a mastermind in an instant, but for that very reason, she was actually quite weak against such straight-forward talk.

“I suppose so…”

“What is it? What are you dissatisfied with?”

“It’s not so much dissatisfaction as it is that I find this entire development—where a mere maid receives a direct order from the King—utterly mysterious and inescapable.”

“If you’re going to say that, it’s the same for me. We’re together, right? See, it’s ‘normal’.”

Irene forcefully shut down Elma’s mumbled protest. At that point, Felix clapped his hands.

“Alright, how about this?”

He wore a bright smile as he gazed at Elma.

“You’re quite obsessed with being ‘normal,’ aren’t you? If I recall, your mother told you to become a normal girl. In that case—if this matter concludes smoothly, I’ll give you a written certificate to prove it.”

“Eh…?”

“Think about it. Working exactly as the King commands is a perfectly normal thing. The King is the employer of everyone in the castle. If you fulfill your mission perfectly, I’ll write a letter regarding your work ethic, stating: ‘The young lady of your house who is working for us is an exceedingly normal person.’ You can take that with you whenever you go home.”

It was an outrageous reward.

However, Elma, who possessed a thought process even more outrageous than Felix’s, lit up instantly. —Well, physically, it was just her glasses flashing brilliantly.

“…Yes. I shall certainly do so, even at the cost of my life.”

“You’re getting that leaned into it!?”

Lucas couldn’t help but retort at Elma’s unexpected display of motivation.

Irene pouted a little at her friend, who still seemed obsessed with going home despite her best efforts at persuasion, but she consciously shifted her mood since they would at least be spending the Harvest Festival period together.

“Then, it’s settled,” Felix declared cheerfully.

“Lucas, the man who is loose with women; Irene, the reasonably beautiful Baron’s daughter; you two will be temporary lovers. Elma, the plain maid dragged along because it would be too obvious if there were only two of you. Please go and thoroughly inspect what is happening at the Margrave of Frenzel’s manor and within the territory.”

“Loose with women…”

“Reasonably beautiful…”

“Plain maid…”

In response, the three of them muttered under their breaths, unable to hide their conflicted expressions.

And so, their plans for the Harvest Festival season were decided.