[What the Lord Likes (1)]
Aiden had stayed at Lontes Castle for only a few days at most.
However, the work he accomplished during those few days could hardly be called insignificant.
The Viscount of Lontes has become incapacitated without an heir, and all nobles obligated to govern the Emperor's land in his stead have been detained on charges of treason. Until a resolution is reached, the North shall assist Lontes to fulfill the duty of a neighbor.
Standing atop the castle walls, Aiden finally let out the words he had been wanting to say, feeling a sense of relief.
The residents of the Lontes territory cheered for the Northern army that had distributed grain and firewood, raising both hands high toward the sky.
It wasn't that their aversion toward the "barbarians" they usually ignored had completely vanished, but for those who had been caught in the crossfire of the "high and mighty" for nearly a year, those who had ended this situation looked like nothing less than saviors.
Originally, when faced with the reality of survival, prejudices can flip as easily as the palm of a hand.
"Is that really all there is to it?"
"Hm?"
"They realized that seeing it in person is different. Just because they aren't educated doesn't mean they're stupid."
The North couldn't be left empty for long, so they would be leaving Lontes Castle by tomorrow.
Which meant tonight was their last night.
And one couldn't have a final night without a celebration.
Aiden's three adjutants clinked their glasses incessantly, their eyes hollow but their faces joyful.
"The Northern army they faced in person must have been a force of elite soldiers the common folk of Lontes had never seen before," Kalisa said, her signature cynical attitude present as she downed a shot of strong liquor.
"The kind of elite soldiers you only see in fairy tales written for children. Jamie, you wouldn't know, would you? What the soldiers of a frontier territory, where the central government's reach doesn't properly extend, look like."
"What do they look like?"
"Would you believe me if I said they're worse than street thugs?"
"Hey, come on, they're still a territorial army."
"That's exactly why they're like that. They rely on their status, so they neglect training and swing around their petty power, only picking on those weaker and worse off than themselves. At least street thugs protect their own. These idiots don't even have that."
A biting, vitriolic curse.
Even so, Jamie, who prided himself on being the closest to Kalisa, found her very strange today.
'Has she always had such a low tolerance for alcohol?'
No, that was impossible.
He was someone who wouldn't lose to anyone when it came to drinking, but wasn't this red-haired colleague of his the one who wouldn't even blink when he was passed out drunk on the table, still finishing off the remaining liquor?
'Well, the time will come when she wants to talk about it.'
Even though she was nowhere near drunk, Jamie didn't press her further, instead raising his glass to match hers, moved by the glimpse of sincerity his colleague had bared.
"But, while our Northern army is our Northern army, I bet a huge part of it is the Administrator's appearance, right?"
The one actually struggling to keep his eyes open from the alcohol was Roland.
He stumbled into the conversation, his words slurred and his speech heavily slowed.
"We're used to it since we're constantly being worked to the bone, but... no, with that face, with that voice... how was he not famous in the center?"
No matter how big the capital was, with a face like that, rumors would have spread across the neighborhood just by having a single beer at a cheap back-alley tavern.
It was strange, so strange.
Roland muttered to himself as he clung to a bottle of liquor he couldn't possibly finish.
"Stop drinking. You can't even hold your liquor, so why do you always have to go to the bitter end once you start?"
"Heh heh... Alcohol is meant to be drunk until you're wasted~."
"Bullshit."
"If not, I would've just drunk water. Why would I drink expensive booze? People, food, and this alcohol... they all have their designated uses. Don't you think?"
"Look at him, look at him. He's going to be a mess tomorrow, throwing up his guts while being loaded onto the carriage. Heh heh."
"I've increased my tolerance while hanging out with you guys! This much is nothing! I'm practically an honorary Northerner by now-."
"Heh heh. You come up with the strangest terms."
For a while, the banter between Jamie and Roland continued.
Kalisa watched them with indifferent eyes.
Once Roland's intoxication seemed to subside slightly, she asked what she had been curious about.
"But is it really okay to handle things this way?"
"Hmm?"
"Taking Lontes. It's called 'protection,' but unless everyone is an idiot, if a little time passes like this, Lontes will lose its name and be incorporated into the North. And once land is merged, it's hard to separate it again."
"You're worried about them, right?"
Roland straightened his index finger and poked at the sky.
He meant the Imperial Court.
"Yeah. They react so neurotically whenever the power of the lords grows."
At Kalisa's biting, sarcastic remark—she didn't seem to have any intention of hiding it—Roland replied, picking up the bottle he had been clutching to fill his and his friends' glasses.
"It'll be fine. We've already received the consent of the First Prince."
"The Second Prince and the Empress are still left. Originally, Lontes was practically theirs. Do you really think they'll just sit still?"
"They'll sit still."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I heard it from my alumni in the capital."
It seemed he had been running his own intelligence network, as he had been writing letters whenever he had a spare moment.
"The news is that since the First Prince stopped using war to counter them, he's actually become on par with the Second Prince's faction."
"...Is that so?"
"Land-grabbing is fine and all, but honestly, all the usable land is already in the Empire's embrace. What's left are just kingdoms or duchies that would cost us too much blood to touch, and the Great Forest between us and the Holy Empire..."
"The Imperial citizens are tired, too."
"Correct."
That's how war is.
No matter how many consecutive victories you have, the amount of supplies and manpower required is astronomical.
At first, the Imperial citizens supported the war heroes, pickled in a kind of nationalistic fervor because they were told the land would expand and the country would become wealthy, but the duration had become far too long.
Doubts about the wars of conquest were starting to erupt.
In the midst of that, the First Prince made a declaration.
He declared that he would no longer continue the wars of conquest and would embrace the Empire's second-class citizens who had been alienated until now.
The people cheered.
It was because this seemed more interesting than the war talk that had already lost its luster.
"Besides, from the Second Prince's perspective, he can't suddenly send a new noble as the Lord of Lontes."
As if to prove that the claim he had a particular talent for political science when he attended the Academy wasn't just empty words, Roland continued to express his opinion clearly even while his face remained flushed from the alcohol.
"The Lord of Lontes may be in a state of being unable to rule, but he's not dead, is he?"
"He's in a state worse than dead, though."
"Regardless. He's still breathing."
"That may be true, but..."
"The Viscount of Lontes has steadfastly supported the Second Prince even while other lords in the North weren't exactly settling on a clear stance. From the Second Prince's perspective, he's a meritorious subject who supported him from a harsh territory. If he abandons such a subject just because he lost a bit of power, which lord would ever be loyal to the Second Prince again?"
"Even so, the North is a frontier. Would the Second Prince really care that much about a frontier lord?"
Jamie, who had been listening silently, chimed in.
Even if it was annoying, the nobles in the center or the truly "high and mighty" people didn't have much interest in the North, let alone the Northern lords.
It was an unavoidable reality, as it was a neighborhood lagging behind both politically and economically.
"No matter how much of a frontier it is, you can't ignore the numbers. Besides, this is a competition for the next Imperial throne. Unless he wants to see the Empire split during his generation, balanced support from various regions is essential."
"Oh-."
"That is political engineering, you ignorant, muscle-brained oaf. Heh heh."
"The capital bookworm did something right. Heh heh."
Clink-.
Jamie and Roland's glasses clinked merrily.
"But, Roland."
"Yeah?"
"Then, did our Administrator calculate all of this?"
"...Hm?"
"No, I mean..."
As the two adjutants tilted their heads, looking at each other, Kalisa, who had brought the bottle to her mouth as if glasses were too frustrating, downed the rest of the liquor and chuckled.
"Are you idiots?"
"Ooh!"
"I thought you were idiots because you were saying something so obvious."
A shrug of the shoulders.
Again, a chuckle.
A mocking laugh.
"Was there even a single coincidence in how we got here?"
"......"
"......!"
The tasks that seemed to be handled on the fly, one by one.
When looking at them individually, they thought it was just to gain an advantage in that situation.
But there was no coincidence anywhere in that process.
The adjutants' drinking session ended just like that.
Since they were all sobered up, it couldn't be helped.
Aiden returned to the North.
Thinking that he was finally home, he had felt particularly light getting out of bed for the past few days.
"Hoo-."
Looking outside, it was still pitch black.
It was partly because the sunrise had been pushed back due to the arrival of winter, but more so because he had woken up that early.
Aiden usually woke up early if he had a good night's sleep.
It seemed he was born with a constitution a bit different from others.
"Slept well."
Moving his body this way and that, his joints and muscles felt refreshed.
"Let's see, today's meal-."
Aiden picked up the checklist neatly placed on the bedroom table.
In the past, the maid who confirmed Aiden was awake would have had to ask dozens of questions: the temperature of the bathwater, the type of perfume, the breakfast menu, which tea to have, when he would leave for work, what clothes to wear, and so on.
However, this was a groundbreaking procedure devised by Felix not long after becoming his secretary, having grasped Aiden's personality of not particularly liking to worry about mundane daily matters, reducing the Q&A that used to take nearly thirty minutes down to three minutes.
Well, if other nobles saw it, they would probably grumble behind his back again about how he traded dignity for efficiency.
"Hm? The menu is... Hmph."
But today, his deliberation lasted a bit longer.
It was because the breakfast menu was filled with very unfamiliar things.
'He said he brought all sorts of spices from the Lontes Castle warehouse, so the chef must have overdone it.'
The Lontes Viscountcy was originally the most prosperous place in the North.
It had a climate decent enough for farming, a sea calm enough that they had decided to build a port, and above all, the presence of a large gambling den had been a major factor.
Perhaps the rumor that the Viscount used luxury to soothe the sorrow of not having children was true, as the warehouse was overflowing with all sorts of spices.
The beast-like chef was truly a chef to his bones, as he had holed himself up in the kitchen for days, cheering at the sight of ingredients and spices he was seeing for the first time.
It seemed the result of that was finally going to be served starting today.
"'Oriental-spiced masculine seafood soup,' huh."
The description sounded strangely familiar.
Even at a glance, didn't it reek of Korean cuisine?
'Well, the description might be like this, but something like Tom Yum Goong might come out.'
Come to think of it, Korean food and Thai food were the same in that they both used chili peppers, so it was hard to be certain of the result.
'Still, the answer is already decided.'
Scratch-.
The quill pen moved.
Today's breakfast menu was decided.
"Are you sure you really chose this?"
"...Yes."
"......"
The maid who had delivered the checklist to the kitchen while Aiden was bathing had her expression twisted as much as it could possibly be.
Among all the exotic dishes the head chef, Brikal, had researched without even getting proper sleep for the past few days, what Aiden had chosen was.
"Cheese sandwich-."
It was that sandwich again.