A World Tinged with Pink
What is this feeling? The landscapes that, when I walked alone, I'd dismiss with a mere "Hmm, gray as ever" or "Oh, looks like a good rain—ground's all muddy" now all looked utterly different. I'd smile at the birds perched on the ramparts or laugh together while walking a dry path thanks to days of clear weather.
Is this really the world I've known and seen all this time? Something, something was different. I couldn't quite put my finger on it until Guinevere left for Londinium again, when it finally hit me clear as day.
"Caius, perhaps the world might actually be beautiful."
"Y-yes?"
"Heh, maybe that's a bit early for you."
"Whaaat?"
I gave the poor lad's shoulder—who's never known love—a hearty pat, then headed to the round table in the garden and sat down. For some reason, I've always liked these round things. Not just at my home in Avalonia, but in my Londinium house, and even the estates here in Deva Victrix or Isca Dumnoniorum—I always made sure to place a round table in the garden. I have no idea why I have this preference, but come to think of it, Guinevere's eyes are round, the tip of her nose is a bit round, her cheeks too—
"S-sir Dominus."
"Hm? What's up, you unfortunate youth who knows not love, Caius?"
"...Please stop, Dominus. More importantly, do you trust those southern barbarians we met this time, the Frankish lot?"
Aha. So that's what this fine Roman barbarian-hater wanted to ask me.
"As if, Caius."
"I figured as much."
"We'll use each other while we're useful, and when we're not, we'll part ways amicably. Something's brewing across the sea, but..."
To be frank, we know full well the Empire has neither the power nor the will to project any force to Britannia right now. So for the foreseeable future, I won't have to worry about troubles from the imperial heartland across that southern sea. I have no clue what the Frankish king is after, but the more blades we can wield, the better. The mercenary contract feels a bit sloppy for a full deal, but it's more than just a face-saving acquaintance—several Frankish mercenaries have already signed on to join my command down the line. Both sides are probably watching how things unfold before deciding our next moves: renew the contract or end it.
"Speaking of, you, Caius! No sweetheart?"
Thinking of pretty Guinevere then shifting to those drab, gloomy barbarians made my head throb. So naturally, I tossed out a festive greeting of a question to tease him, but then Caius rolls his eyes and answers cautiously?
"W-well, actually, there is someone, Dominus."
"Haha—fine, you're young, so going forward—no, what?"
What did he say?
"You're seeing someone?"
"Y-yeah."
Eeeh? I genuinely had no idea.
"When? How? No way, you—"
I look down at him steadily and suddenly realize: the tiny kid who was shivering and near death without even water to drink has grown up quite a bit. Not just grown—he's now one of the top fighters under my command, showing off his military talent without restraint. Even Beduerus, who judges people as ruthlessly as appraising meat cuts, has taken note of Caius's gifts. And above all, with the title of a core figure in Artorius's army and a promising young man, it's no wonder various noble houses have set their sights on him.
"Y-you sly fox."
"H-haha..."
"Who is she? Held hands yet? No, wait—have you made any promises for the future—"
"N-no, not that far yet! We're just taking it slow, exchanging letters—"
"Hey now! Exchanging letters means you've already gone all the way! He who trifles with a lady's heart is no honorable Roman!"
"...Y-you think? Got it!"
In truth, Roman or barbarian, across all eras, capable and charming men have always had colorful romantic lives. Even Merlinus, who seems so prim, secretly enjoys free love disguised as bachelorhood. But no need to inject this dark worldly truth into this pure youth just yet. From the looks of it, he's already heard all the filthy, sordid tales from the worldly veteran soldiers, so I don't need to pile on.
I was shocked at first, but ultimately pleased and about to congratulate him when this cheeky Caius drops another bomb, as if he can't die alone.
"A-and I think Beduerus has someone too!"
"...! What? Beduerus?"
What the hell? That sword-obsessed ghost Beduerus is seeing a woman?? It was as shocking as hearing the meek cat Caius climbed the stove first. The one-armed swordsman who'd seemed to devote his life solely to the blade... was seeing someone!
"Now I see—everyone but me..."
[Knock knock-]
["Dominus! Are you inside? It's Galbaginus!"]
No way, him too?
"Come in!"
[ "Ah, yes." ]
[ Creeeak- ]
The door connecting the front gate and garden opens slowly, and Galbaginus enters with a wary expression, stepping cautiously. He must have caught my stiff tone and is trying to read the mood, the sharp noble lad. Before he could prepare any defense, I fired off a preemptive strike.
"Galbaginus."
"Yes, Dominus."
"Speak honestly, and I swear no harm to your person. Are you seeing someone?"
"...Pardon?"
Galbaginus glances sideways at frozen-stiff Caius beside me, irritation slowly creeping onto his face. That clear shift in emotion was plain to see, but it actually relieved me.
"What woman? With all I have to do, you think I'd chase skirts like leisurely Caius over there?"
"Phew—"
Good. This cold-blooded rich boy—who'd be 100% T on an MBTI test in my past life—clearly isn't into secret romances. Wait, but is that something to celebrate?
"..."
"? Why are you looking at me with such pity?"
"No, Galbaginus. Just... keep at it. The world isn't as dark and barren as you think. I'll always have your back."
"Good grief. Everyone's been struck by Cupid's arrows. Like Publius Ovidius Naso's works, drowning in Amores..."
Muttering a sigh in some obscure aristocratic tongue, Galbaginus approaches the round table and slouches into the chair opposite me. He pulls a letter tube from his bosom and hands it over; meanwhile, Caius in the middle rolls his eyes frantically, wiping cold sweat. Raised practically by Brother Hector in my Avalonia home, Caius probably sees Galbaginus as the talented, strict big brother figure. He fears him more than Beduerus sometimes.
"Love matters, but something more important has happened."
"Tsk tsk, what good's all that learning if you don't grasp the essence of the world? Nothing's more important than love, Galbaginus. That sort of thing—"
I untie the letter tube and pull out the parchment scrap to read. What I thought would be nothing much instantly shut my mouth.
"As you see. Looks like something big went down across the sea. Hard not to, right? Not just one or two dead—their handpicked elite warriors vanished in one go."
Galbaginus explains softly; I fix my eyes on the letter, unmoving; Caius's face hardens like Beduerus's at the hunch of major trouble.
"Connal Coch. Proper name this time. The tail-end's a nickname—asked someone who knows their tongue, means 'red.' Turns out he's from a somewhat notable lineage among them, but barbarians gonna barbarian. Anyway, more useful than expected. Pulled his weight in Londinium too..."
"Sending the king of Muwa?"
"Yes, Dominus."
From pink love talk to cold reality like facing a blade. Even fragmented barbarian tribes—but capturing a petty kingdom's king and sending him... means our mystery ally is more capable than I thought.
"Didn't kill him. Thought they would."
"Well, they calculated. More gain from handing us the king than killing him. Sly barbarian."
Sorry to Isut and Drustanus, but I figured Isut's father—Aril, Vortigern's ally and my foe, king of Muwa—would die. After sending his scraped-together elites across the sea to slaughter, losing his daughter to boot; in absolute monarchy maybe, but in their weak tribal confederation, his position was untenable. Yet they spared King Aril and sent him to me—means Muwa's new power sorted internals and signaled their stance. At least those Muwa barbarians have no intent to oppose me. So they risk unrest to ship the deposed king as tribute. In short, Isut's father is bribe fodder for me.
"Can't mull this alone. Caius, send word to Isca Dumnoniorum too. Call Beduerus, Comes Eturnus, Wolfmaer, Drustanus—no, call everyone."
"Yes sir! I'll tell them to come at once!"
Watching Caius dash off, I try sorting my thoughts when Galbaginus pours a cup of wine from the table and asks,
"They'll betray us at the first chance."
"Probably."
"But it's opportunity, Dominus. Hard to infiltrate unknown lands, but with an inside man? Different story."
I eye this emotionless machine—wondering what pitch he's making—when he leans in eagerly.
"No need for us to go personally. But we can expand that... venture on Manavia Island. Like hitting stashes of reserve raider barbarians."
"How's that different from war?"
"We have the Frankish foederati from the contract. No way they don't know raiding. Promise profit, they'll move. Plus the new auxilia we're conscripting nonstop."
"You suggesting scattered raids?"
Like what those barbarians did to our Rome?
"You've gripped the western sea, Dominus. Smashed the pirates these past days—even late spring into summer, their sailings dropped. Means less income."
"..."
"And our Romans kidnapped last year are plentiful there. Good cause, good profit, plenty of blades to fight for us. Miss this, we lose out. Plundering barbarians? Profitable, Dominus."
Madman. Stared into the abyss too long, gone native, Galbaginus.
"..."
But why is my poor, innocent heart pounding like this...! Fine, if someone's gotta play villain...! For Romano-Britannia's peace...!
"Draft a simple plan."
"Leave it to me. I'll make 'em fight each other forever. Ha ha."
Come to think, Rome's used to being the villain anyway. The world can't spin on pink alone. The familiar grayscale world stepped boldly toward me.