Hitting It Off with the Margrave's Daughter
Marien? Uh, what do I do? A barbarian from outside had made some precious lord's daughter cry. It was the perfect setup for a misunderstanding.
I glanced around frantically. Luckily, no one was nearby.
First, I need to smooth this over. I had to avoid the worst-case scenario. Priority one: destroy the evidence. Figure out what to do with this crying girl.
"D-don't cry."
"Ughhh…."
She tried desperately to hold it back, but the tears kept flowing despite her will. My bear paw must've hit too hard.
Lips pressed tight, eyes wide open, tears just dripping down—it was a pitiful sight.
"Here, wipe your tears with this."
I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and rubbed her face with it. It was more like a rag than a proper handkerchief, so her face actually got dirtier. It felt like I'd tried to cure one ailment and caused another, but aside from the bit of soot smudged on her cheeks, it worked. Her tears started to slow.
She hiccuped, catching her breath.
"Sorry for hitting you. You suddenly called me a barbarian, and I just snapped."
"Sniff… N-no, it's fine. I just assumed based on your clothes. I'm the one who should apologize…."
She was surprisingly polite. Well, her round, innocent face didn't scream "high-strung" type anyway.
If I play this right, I can smooth it over.
"Um… may I ask which territory you're from, my lady? I hadn't heard about any guests arriving… I was rude."
My lady? She must've mistaken me for a noble daughter. I could roll with the noble act, but it'd be a lie that'd unravel fast. Still, admitting the truth felt unfair somehow. Fine, time to seize the initiative.
"A lady doesn't make someone introduce themselves first without even giving her own name, you know?"
"Ah!"
Her face turned beet red.
"S-sorry…! Ahem… That was rude of me. Allow me to introduce myself properly."
She took a deep breath, stepped back, and straightened her posture. The teary remnants from moments ago were gone.
She lightly pinched her skirt hems and bowed her head. The angle, the motion—flawless noble etiquette.
"I'm Marien."
Her voice was clear and refined, clearly practiced a thousand times.
"Eldest daughter of the Arzenhardt Margrave family, shield of the Cardia Empire and guardians of the western borders."
So she was the margrave's daughter. Pretty young for the eldest, though. Marien placed her right hand over her chest and bowed once more. Her eyes, gazing straight at me, were crystal clear.
"Marien Arzenhardt. I hope you enjoy your time in our territory."
Marien smiled brightly after her introduction. Then she hunched her shoulders shyly and asked,
"Hehe. That was my first time introducing myself like that to someone else. Was it okay?"
"Yeah. Full of grace."
"Thank you…. Um, so…?"
She'd introduced herself, so now it was my turn. What should I say? …Screw it, go big.
"I'm the daughter of the Great Plains, the Western Mystery—the little bear of the beastkin tribes, Ursa. Nice to meet you, Lady Marien."
I matched her level with my own introduction. Not a single false word—a perfect self-intro.
Or so I thought, but Marien's expression grew weirder by the second. She was slowly parsing my words in her head.
And then—
"Y-you are a barbarian!!"
"Tch. Calling me a barbarian again?"
I raised my fist, and "Eek!" Marien clutched her head and scrambled back.
Whoops. Can't hit her again. Her skull might actually crack this time. Her harmless vibe made me treat her too casually. But she was the margrave's daughter. I needed to build some goodwill.
"Um, Miss Ursa. How did you get in here…?"
Only asking that now? Normally, she'd have called the guards ages ago. Was she just that unguarded? Or plain naive?
"One of our tribe elders is allies with your lord."
"Ah! The big beastkin who visited recently? The butler mentioned it. Said he talked with Father."
"Yep. I'm here for that again. Just tagging along."
"I-I see…."
"…."
"…."
Sudden awkward silence. Marien just stared at me, and I found myself fixating on whether a bump was forming on her forehead.
Neither of us were big talkers, it seemed.
Then, footsteps from the castle gate. The Bear Elder emerged, conversation with the margrave done, calling for me. Perfect timing.
"Ah. Gotta go now. Friend, sorry about the hit earlier? Don't get mad over something like that, okay?"
"Huh? Fr-friend—no, I mean, yeah! It's fine, don't worry! I'll keep today's secret!"
Okay. Risk of tattling minimized.
"Um… M-Miss Ursa?"
"Just Ursa is fine. What?"
"N-nothing. Just… when might you come again…?"
"Hm… Who knows? Probably not like this."
"Oh…."
Marien's face fell a bit. Was she actually disappointed? By the girl who knuckle-rapped her?
Lady Marien might be the affectionate type. Time to test the waters.
"Well, maybe some other way. I live up on that plateau village. Might come down if I have time?"
"R-right!"
Her face lit up again. Guess she likes me.
The Bear Elder called my name louder. Time to really bounce.
"See ya, friend. Let's hang out next time!"
"Ah…! Y-yeah! I'll wait, Ursa! Be safe!"
I waved goodbye to Marien and ran to the Bear Elder. She didn't follow, good.
"Were you well-behaved?"
"O-of course! Just toured the garden."
"Hmmm…."
Suspicious side-eye from the Bear Elder.
"Actually, I met a girl named Marien in the garden."
"Marien?"
"Know her?"
He nodded.
"Ludwig's only daughter. He bragged about her endlessly."
Dad bragging? Didn't fit the margrave's stern image.
"He dotes on her fiercely. Even teaches her the sword himself—probably stronger than you, Ursa."
Sword? That soft-faced girl? I pictured Marien—she seemed more knitting type than swordswoman. Maybe she hated it but was forced to learn. Explained why she warmed up to me so quick.
Overbearing parental expectations, isolation disguised as protection. Locked in a castle, swinging a sword that didn't suit her. Then a mysterious, free-spirited peer girl appears out of nowhere.
Kya~ this plot's gold.
If I play it right, we'd be fast friends.
"Don't get any funny ideas."
His eyes narrowed. Sharp as ever. Well, couldn't do much without him anyway. Getting here solo would've taken forever. At least until the village was built—and we'd only settled a week ago. Priorities first. Adapt to the mountains now.
….
The beastkin had left the margrave's castle. In the training grounds behind it, a girl swung her sword.
Whoosh—whoosh.
A massive greatsword as big as she was. Her movements had impossible grace for the weight.
"Marien. Training again?"
A man approached from behind. The castle's lord, Margrave Ludwig.
"Ah! Father!"
Marien set down her greatsword. Thud. It hit with a heavy echo, matching its size.
"You look cheerful. Take it easy, why don't you."
"Hehe. That obvious?"
"Plain as day."
Marien had always loved the sword. Started with training blades, now wielded greatswords freely. His men gossiped about her mana talent or genius, but he dismissed such superstitions. One thing mattered: his precious daughter was in high spirits today.
"Something good happen?"
"Ah… Kinda."
Marien grinned sheepishly, mumbling.
"Not sharing with your old man, huh."
"S-sorry! But it's a secret!"
A secret, already? He'd worried about her pure, open nature, but maybe that was just his paranoia. His proud daughter had grown enough to keep her own secrets.
"Fair enough. Everyone has their secrets. I respect that—won't pry. …Something about ladies being more beautiful with many secrets?"
"Ahaha…."
He'd probably meant secrets make a lady beautiful. But Marien didn't correct him. Father avoided high society; he couldn't know better.
"I'll head in then. Don't overdo it."
"Yes, Father. See you at dinner."
The margrave left, leaving Marien alone in the training grounds. She gripped her greatsword again.
Whoosh—whoosh.
Fresher after the break, her swings sharper, fiercer. Listening to the air whistle, she recalled the afternoon.
The girl who appeared out of nowhere: Ursa. At first, she'd mistaken her outfit for a barbarian's—no one in the territory dressed like that.
Only after the knuckle-rap did she notice her face. Glossy black hair like rippling night. Ruby-red eyes like gems. Pale skin that still radiated health. She could've passed for a noble lady.
So she'd apologized profusely. Felt she deserved it.
But turns out—she was a barbarian?
No, wait. Ursa said not to call her that. Beastkin tribe, right?
But something off. Ursa didn't look beastkin. The big guy with her had obvious bear ears.
I'll ask next time. That should be fine, right? After all, we're—
"Fr-friends!"
Whoosh—!
The greatsword tore through the air with a sonic boom. Undeterred, Marien kept thinking.
Friend. Ursa had called her that. A new kind of closeness.
She exchanged with nearby ladies' daughters, but they all kept distance—most barons or viscounts, lower than margraves. Few families outranked them. Five at most.
They got along fine, but no deeper. No one she'd call close. Interests differed too. She loved swords and martial arts; they didn't.
But Ursa would. Home wasn't the empire, but the wilds. They'd click for sure.
Bam!
The greatsword slammed down, cratering the ground. Done training, Marien caught her breath, stretched.
Since awakening mana, weight never bothered her, but sweat still beaded from the workout. She wiped her forehead with a handkerchief.
Ursa's—the one she'd used to wipe her tears.
"Oh yeah… gotta return it."
But first, meet again. When? Not tomorrow. Next week maybe? Wait—no need to just wait. I can go greet her.
She might get lost alone.
"Can't wait to see her. Hehe."
Leaving her greatsword stuck in the ground, Marien smiled and headed back inside the castle.