The Deal (2)
If it was rumors about Countess Freyja Evergarden, Rachel had heard a few of them herself.
Once a mere serf, she had earned glory in the continental conquest wars and been granted a countship the moment the empire was founded—a war hero of the Evergarden family.
But the rumors currently circulating among the nobility about House Evergarden were far from flattering. The territory was poor and drowning in debt; the lord himself was a complete wastrel; and his children spent their days causing havoc at the academy. The stories were enough to make anyone frown.
Among them, of course, were plenty of tales about Countess Freyja Evergarden. They varied, but boiled down to a single sentence:
An empty-headed show-off with flowers for brains.
Lacking both knowledge and refinement, she threw tea parties every other day just to flaunt jewels and dresses she had bought beyond her means. Her need for attention was so strong that every conversation turned into self-praise, and if the spotlight at a tea party drifted to someone else she threw tantrums like a child.
She was also hopelessly gullible and naive; a little flattery produced generous rewards, so a few people deliberately clung to her with empty compliments. Most, however, simply ignored her despite her high rank as a countess.
The one thing people grudgingly admitted was her beauty—and a figure so striking that even those who disliked her had to nod in reluctant agreement. In short, a pretty empty shell of a woman.
Who could possibly think that while sitting across from her?
Yet Rachel, facing Freyja Evergarden in person and speaking with her, nearly let out a hollow laugh.
A gentle, kindly smile. Soft speech and cascading white hair that made her look like a wingless angel. Her elegance was so overflowing that even the simple act of sipping tea radiated nobility.
And yet—
Not a single opening. She’s smiling, but my flesh is crawling.
Posture, the way she set down her teacup, the smile itself—every detail was flawless. Sweat beaded on Rachel’s forehead.
She had no choice but to admit it. The countess sitting before her possessed a far more overwhelming presence than she herself, the Fifth Princess.
Rachel began to doubt the malicious rumors. Even if envy and spite had mixed lies into the gossip, how could anyone who had seen this woman still slander her?
So the rumors were spread on purpose? For what reason? Or has she been acting that way all this time…? One thing is certain—she is not someone to underestimate.
“I have given the Fifth Princess’s proposal some thought,” Freyja said, breaking the silence first.
“I take it your eldest son already informed you.”
“Yes. He is an exceptionally clever child.”
“To be perfectly frank, our house has little reason to join hands with Your Highness.”
“…I see.”
The blunt refusal nearly cracked the gentle expression Rachel had carefully maintained.
Don’t panic. You expected this answer. You can’t fall apart here.
“As Your Highness knows, this is a prototype of the potion our house developed independently.”
Freyja placed a glass vial on the table. Inside, a pale green liquid shimmered—clear, free of any residue.
“Physical recovery and mana restoration. A faint but permanent enhancement of both stamina and mana. Normalization of bodily condition, plus accelerated healing for bruises, lacerations, burns—any wound that can mend naturally.”
“In short, a lesser version of the legendary elixir.”
“Word of the prototype’s effects has already begun spreading from the academy. Once we start selling the finished product within our territory… I believe Your Highness can imagine the repercussions.”
Of course. That’s exactly why I came here.
Working name: Evergarden Potion. Its effects were exactly as the countess described—essentially a downgraded elixir that could raise the dead. It could not restore severed limbs (how they had tested that, she had never told even her family), but it was highly effective against ordinary wounds and fevers, and its mana recovery was unmatched—all without side effects.
Such overwhelming performance would naturally draw countless eyes. Before long, House Evergarden would become a power capable of shaking the entire Obina Empire. That was why Rosaria had suffered so much harassment at the academy, and why so many families were already scrambling to attach themselves to the Evergardens.
“And it seems Your Highness is not the only one who knows this.”
“!?”
Having displayed the potion and made clear how high her house was about to rise, Freyja played another strong card. In her hand were four sealed envelopes.
Even while Rosaria was still at the academy, noble heirs and professors had lined up to approach her. How many more letters must have reached the main house itself?
“Before we developed this potion, we never received so many letters… Everyone seems remarkably interested.”
Long before Rosaria returned home, hundreds of letters praising House Evergarden and requesting private audiences had already piled up. Not only nobles—mages from the Magic Tower, guild masters of merchant associations—so many that the office fireplace could not keep up.
From that mountain of correspondence, Freyja had selected exactly four envelopes and now held them out.
“Th-that… surely not…!?”
“Yes. I believe Your Highness already knows.”
Rachel’s pupils trembled as she looked at the envelopes Freyja offered with a smile. Each seal bore the white dragon of the imperial family—the same wax mark Rachel herself had used when writing to Felix.
“The First Prince… the Second Princess… the Fourth Princess and the Sixth Prince. These four have kindly written to express their desire for closer ties with our house.”
“……”
“The Second Princess in particular is widely praised as a strong candidate for the next throne despite being a woman and having the First Prince—the crown prince—directly above her.”
She’s right… Sister Reina is far more capable than someone like me…
“Fifth Princess?”
“…Yes?”
“I have heard that Your Highness has no particular interest in the succession. Is that correct?”
“…It is. I have never thought that I must become the master of the empire—”
“In that case, if Your Highness and I were to join hands, how do you think the other heirs would interpret it?”
“‘The Fifth Princess, who never cared about the throne, has suddenly allied with House Evergarden.’ Something like that.”
“…!”
Listening carefully to Freyja’s calm words, Rachel finally grasped their true meaning. Until now she had deliberately stayed one step removed from the succession, content to watch from the sidelines. Forming an alliance with the house that was about to transform the empire would be seen as a declaration that she, too, was entering the race.
“I-I…! Th-that was never my intention…!?”
“Of course not. But whether others will see it that way… I cannot be certain.”
“Rather than take the hands of those who might one day wear the imperial crown, what reason do we have to join hands with a Fifth Princess whose only goal is to stay alive?”
“…!?”
With every word Freyja spoke, Rachel’s skirts crumpled tighter in her fists. It was true. Though she normally loved nothing more than debating knowledge with others, she could not open her mouth. She simply lowered her head and trembled.
She had been arrogant. She had assumed that as an imperial princess no one would dare refuse her. Looking back, the days she had spent buried in the academy, dismissing the succession struggle as pathetic, now felt unbearably foolish.
House Evergarden would only climb higher. They had no reason to abandon everything and take her hand merely for her sake. Just as Freyja said, Rachel had never considered the throne; she had simply clung to the Evergardens with flimsy excuses because her own life was in danger.
Realizing that now filled her with a shame so raw it felt as if she stood naked before the countess.
“Instead of heirs whose futures already look reasonably secure, I see no reason—within my limited understanding—to take the hand of an immature Fifth Princess and recklessly drag ourselves into a succession war.”
Why should I suffer alongside trash like you when I have far sturdier siblings who could back me?
Her expression and manner remained gentle, yet the true meaning of her words was a scathing rebuke. Under normal circumstances Rachel might have flared up at the insolence; now she could not even manage a retort. Her own helplessness disgusted her.
“…………”
So this is as far as she goes. Still young, still shortsighted.
Watching Rachel keep her head bowed in silence, Freyja sipped her tea and thought. Felix had already briefed her, so she knew Rachel’s situation. The Third Prince was almost certainly a possessed soul, and though she could not yet be certain, he seemed to have no qualms about eliminating rivals. The first to fall had been the Ninth Prince. The Third Prince was likely starting with the young and unconnected—those easiest to remove.
The next target was obvious. Someone old enough, yet so absorbed in study and research that she had no personal faction, someone whose death would raise little outcry.
Rachel Obina.
If Freyja did not take her hand, Rachel would certainly be eliminated. Even if she abandoned her title and fled, the Third Prince would not stop hunting her as long as the slightest possibility remained.
It was pitiful. As a father of two children, the thought of a still-young girl dying left a sour taste and stirred sympathy. But she could not move on sympathy alone. Helping Rachel meant that House Evergarden—who had so far conserved their strength and kept their heads down—would step fully into the political arena. And since Rachel had no faction beyond them, the fight would be grueling.
She could not endanger her family and house for mere pity. Freyja always placed her family’s safety first. Beyond that, she did not care what happened to anyone else. Even if the Obina Empire collapsed and the capital ran red with its people’s blood, as long as her family remained unharmed it meant nothing to her.
That was why she was always cautious, always cold. She did not need Rachel to complete her plans. Love calls from other royals were already pouring in, and compared to Rachel they were far larger and more reliable. Against them, Rachel was a disappointment.
And yet—precisely because of that—Freyja had gone out of her way to invite her here for this private meeting.
“…Fifth Princess.”
“…Yes, Countess Evergarden.”
After a long silence, Freyja spoke.
This is the end.
Anticipating the words that would follow, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut without realizing it.
“Do you have the resolve?”
“…Pardon?”
At the unexpected question, Rachel lifted her head and looked at her.
“The resolve to survive even after cutting through all of that.”
“The resolve… to survive…”
Freyja’s words carried many layers. If you take House Evergarden’s hand, what can you do from now on? What will you move for? Why do you want to live? All of it struck Rachel squarely in the chest.
“I… I…”
Why must I survive? Simply because I am afraid of dying? That was not enough of an answer. The fundamental reason she clung so desperately to life—and why anyone should help her—Freyja was asking for that.
Rachel thought. She spun the brilliant mind that could casually calculate complex magical formulas, desperately searching for an answer. Cold sweat ran down her temples; her limbs shook.
A hot liquid trickled from her nose and wet her lips. It tasted of iron.
“…Because.”
After a long calculation, Rachel finally moved her lips.
“There are still… so many studies I haven’t… finished…”
“……”
“I love magic. Researching it, analyzing it—when a spell I designed activates properly, my heart races.”
“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it…? I thought until my head nearly burst… and nothing else came out.”
“It’s so childish, so completely useless… Why did I give an answer like this…?”
“But it’s true. I still don’t want to die.”
Her answer was no different from a child’s whim. Every time she studied and researched magic, she felt alive. The imperial succession that others so envied was, to her, nothing more than a convenient tool. She wanted to know the truths of the world. She wanted to uncover the laws and principles of nature—and change them. That was Rachel’s purpose in life.
“…I see.”
Freyja, who had listened to what was practically a cry of desperation, spoke again.
And then—
“Very well. I will take the Fifth Princess’s hand.”
“…What?”
Riiip—
“Uh… uhh…?”
Without hesitation, Freyja tore the letters from the other princes and princesses that still lay on the table. Rachel could only open and close her mouth, unable to understand the sudden action.
“I like earnestness. And that is why I saw potential in Your Highness.”
“Rather than some grand dream of becoming master of the world… the Fifth Princess’s honest, modest yet enormous dream left a far deeper impression.”
“Th-then…!?”
“From this moment, House Evergarden shall offer its loyalty to the Fifth Princess… Rachel Obina.”
Freyja extended her hand toward her.
“…Th-thank… you…! Thank… you…!”
Drip—drip-drip—
Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes as she stared blankly at that hand. With trembling fingers she clasped Freyja’s, and the desperation and gratitude in her grip came through clearly.
“Oh dear… Tears do not suit such a fine day.”
“Ah… thank you…”
“You are now our master. Carry yourself with pride.”
“…I will.”
Freyja handed a handkerchief to the red-eyed Rachel and smiled softly.
Master…
Accepting the handkerchief, Rachel felt something swell powerfully in her chest.
In that moment, Countess Freyja Evergarden of House Evergarden swore unchanging loyalty to Rachel.
Of course, it was a complete and utter lie.