No One Welcomes Summer's Fever (5)
Wilhelm Piper von Ahenmetis. The empire's second prince, count of Terempitz, and a young man considered an indispensable figure in the imperial family.
And.
"...You know me because of Baroness Kreuznach, don't you."
"Spot on."
He's said to be close friends with the imperial baron of Kreuznach and planted his wife as a maid for his own little sister.
"She's taken quite an interest in you. Your name popped up a lot in her regular reports."
"...So there are regular reports about Her Highness the Princess going up to Your Highness?"
"That's right."
"Does that mean you've been monitoring Her Highness through her all this time?"
After my sharp retort, he flashed a strange smile and led me further inside.
We were heading somewhere I'd never seen before. It seemed like we were going toward the arena at first, but we took a detour down a secret staircase midway.
At a corner in the passage, he glanced back at me and shrugged.
"Exactly."
"...No excuses, huh."
"Don't be too angry. Every family has its own circumstances."
It was a conversation that really drove home the importance of putting yourself in someone else's shoes.
'Albert must've felt chills when I bluffed about spying on him...'
The difference was, mine was just bravado—his was the real deal.
And against his own little sister, no less.
"Why go that far?"
"Because she's someone to be wary of."
"...She's your little sister."
"Because she's a woman."
He turned his head forward again and continued walking before picking up his words.
"Leaving a dangerous figure who might marry into another house to roam freely in the academy is simply too frightening for her."
I recalled how Princess Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis had described her second brother as an "annoying person."
And from this brief exchange, I could see exactly why.
"Don't make such a face. It's not like I enjoy it."
"Then why tell me all this?"
"Because this ridiculous situation you've created has given me an opportunity."
Soon, he stopped in front of a door.
"Truth be told, I don't want to send Charlotte off to just any great house. Especially not one that could handle her well."
"Because you're afraid of Her Highness, like you just said?"
"Yes."
"For what reason?"
"Because she's a woman with far too much talent. You've spent time with her—you should know."
"I don't think a few months in the Military Research Department reveal everything about her."
"Baroness Kreuznach has been by her side since before she entered the academy. So her time here isn't the only measure of her."
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then turned to me instead of opening the door.
"Someone who seems capable of anything, who can beat anyone no matter who they are, who defies common sense, and who can never be held down by human hands."
"..."
"That's the kind of little sister Charlotte is to me."
It felt like a confession in a way. Some of it I could empathize with; some, not yet.
But at least this much I could tell from his eyes.
"The word 'genius' originally comes from 'genius'—the spirit of a god, right?"
He seemed entranced by something. And I had no desire to know what lay at the end of that sticky gaze.
"So you don't want to send that precious person to someone who can make good use of her?"
"Exactly. That's why I want to actively exploit this absurd stage you've set up to fend off our ambitious Duke of Neustria's proposal. Even if our prime minister considered it positively and arranged this meeting at Sponheim, I have no reason to go along with it."
His words brought me a sense of relief even as they stirred disgust.
A man more terrified of his sister becoming their blade than gaining an alliance for the imperial family through her.
Was this high praise for her, or a cruel treatment? I wasn't sure.
But one thing was clear: her own will had no say in it.
And the weight of having to help such a man settled on me.
"...So who exactly am I fighting in this mock battle, and why?"
"Charlotte proposed a courtship trial, and young Lord Ludwig accepted and lost. This unnatural flow must be your doing, right?"
"Yes."
"So the Duke of Neustria, instead of accepting this absurdity outright, attached a condition: 'We'll have a match in the family name—if we lose again, we'll concede.' Of course, he only proposed that because I wasn't cooperating."
"Wait— the duke himself requested the mock battle?"
"It's like a proxy territorial war. Even if it's for training, it makes a fine duel substitute. No lives lost, no blood spilled, and you still get a clear winner."
What, more like watching the kids fight got his blood pumping? Second Prince Wilhelm muttered it like it was someone else's business.
"...I get the logic, but you can't be serious about having me represent the imperial family."
"Unfortunately, I am. Among the people I brought, no one can beat the champion the Dennis family put forward."
"Who is...?"
"One of the Duke of Neustria's vassals, who else."
Then why not do it yourself? But true to form as a brother, he arbitrarily stepped forward and opened the door.
Thanks to that, I learned the academy had more secret spaces than I'd imagined.
I wondered where this meeting—or whatever it was—would be held, but of all places, it was underground beneath the arena, with both sides facing off across a table.
G greets us were three men to my right by my reckoning, and to the left, Princess Charlotte Laura von Ahenmetis with Baroness Kreuznach standing behind her.
Needless to say, at my appearance, at least those who knew me—Princess Charlotte, her maid, and Lord Ludwig—widened their eyes in shock.
"You're late for the appointed time, Your Highness."
But the first to speak among them was a young man with long black hair, who seemed to be leading the gathering.
I immediately knew he was the "Duke of Neustria." Enlarge Lord Ludwig's stature, make it more masculine and angular, and you'd have the duke.
"Explaining the circumstances took time. Please forgive me, Duke of Neustria."
"Hmph."
His blue eyes turned to me. Perhaps due to his elven blood, he retained his youth longer than most—the duke looked at least twenty years younger than his presumed age.
'He's known for hating wasted time...'
Yet even from his youthful thirties appearance, there was no trace of impatience. He'd clearly waited here a while, but he'd handled it calmly despite every reason to be irritated.
"Then, the one summoned as the imperial representative—tell us about him."
"His name is Werner von Hebel. You two know him, and he's your classmate. His skills are proven by both of you."
"Is that true, son?"
As his father's voice turned to him, Lord Ludwig—uncharacteristically flustered—replied.
It was a far cry from his usual snappish demeanor toward others.
"Y-yes."
"Then no objections. Our champion is, as you know, this man: Hewerin Gruffard!"
"Yes, Your Grace."
At the duke's words, the giant who had been sitting quietly rose.
His frame towered even over Senior Darko, with perfectly sculpted muscles. Like the elves, he had clear eyes and refined features, but his ears were even more pointed, and a short beard concealed his jawline.
'Feels familiar...'
It was just a vague sense of déjà vu, so I couldn't pinpoint who Hewerin was.
But if the Duke of Neustria was fielding him in this matchup, he must be capable.
He didn't seem to know much about me either. At least until some incident happened shortly after he'd stepped away to prepare.
"Your Grace. May I make one request?"
"What is it?"
"Not that I doubt my victory, but since this is a duel between the parties involved, it seems odd to exclude them."
"Lord Ludwig and Her Highness already finished theirs."
"Even so, this decides the main issue. If we're doing it, they should participate too."
"Hmph..."
The duke, pondering, glanced my way—or rather, toward Prince Wilhelm.
He then asked what the man named Hewerin thought of the proposal.
"Of course, that's fine."
Prince Wilhelm predictably didn't object. I and Princess Charlotte alike stared, but he acted like it was no big deal now.
His inscrutable actions were drawing me deeper into this web, but if it stemmed from my own meddling, maybe I had no choice.
"...Somehow we've ended up in the same group again."
"...Yeah?"
And despite my worries, here I was, somehow thrown into this situation.
If so, winning was my only option.
*
This mock battle felt more like a proxy territorial war.
So it couldn't unfold like the free-for-all training simulations.
Their sudden proposal changed our personnel, but the detailed rules stayed the same.
One: Terrain preset in advance.
Two: Troop numbers, armaments, etc., preset.
Three: Time, environment, season, all preset, naturally.
When Prince Wilhelm—not me—assigned us the imperial forces and we saw the underground crystal panel instead of the usual ones,
we spawned in nearly identical positions on the battlefield.
"...I had no idea it'd turn out like this."
I was the one grumbling, of course. Beside me, Her Highness the Princess—slender in gleaming white plate armor, metal helm on, laughing heartily.
"You think I expected it? They said we'd resume after a break, then suddenly big brother drags in Werner. I was shocked. What happened?"
"Too long to explain... Call it karma."
"What'd you do this time... Anyway, fine. Got any ideas?"
"I'm thinking now... Throwing us in like this out of nowhere."
Muttering complaints, I quickly scanned the terrain and spotted the enemy banner's position.
The battlefield was split by a narrow river: plains on our side, forest on theirs.
In other words, they were hiding in the woods, bringing none other than Neustria and his brothers' forces—the archetypal "elf legion."
Western elves, the race second only to mages in magic sensitivity on this continent.
Individuals vary, but trained soldiers generally wield mana to master elf-exclusive weaponry.
Against them: us, exposed on open plains, barely briefed on our own unit types.
No matter how I sliced it, they had the edge there—way more than us sudden draftees. What was the prince thinking...?
"Well, nothing for it. Just win, right?"
"Can't argue with that."
Whether things went as planned or not, Her Highness spoke calmly, shaking off her earlier gloom.
Or maybe she was just thrilled to be mock battling again.
"Anyway, you and me—we're unbeatable except against each other. Even in this setup, losing's impossible! Remember?"
"A promise."
Her bright, upbeat tone didn't fully match my mood, but seeing her shout it out loud felt reassuring.
So.
"Looking forward to working with you again, Your Highness."
I had to win to keep her like this.
We hastily divided roles and headed to our positions.
Of course, first came the reconnaissance phase.