Prologue: Riel
Edgar had not been born in this place. Not in the regional sense, but in the truest sense: he was not a native of this world at all.
The time since he had fallen into the novel he once believed was mere fiction had, with only slight exaggeration, stretched across nearly twenty years.
There was one person who had stood beside him through every hardship since childhood.
“Your Highness, perhaps it would be best if you took some rest now.”
She was the woman he now served.
Ariel Robeheim, current head of the Robeheim Grand Duchy, the power that held the greater part of this vast northern land in its iron grip.
Today, as always, she sat motionless with her face buried in a towering stack of documents.
“...You really haven’t changed, Ed. I told you to speak comfortably since you have no eye for rank.”
“Was it not Your Highness who commanded your vassal to observe every proper courtesy?”
“Ugh.”
Ariel let out a low groan and irritably swept back the jet-black hair that fell to her waist. Why had she ever uttered such nonsense? She, of all people, knew exactly how foul his temper could be after all the years they had spent together. That mouth of his was the eternal problem.
It had been roughly half a year since she had entered a master-servant relationship with the friend who had always been by her side. After the incident, she had jokingly warned him, “Since I am now your master, you will show me proper respect from now on,” and this was the result.
“Ignoring your master’s orders can hardly be called desirable behavior for a vassal.”
“Has Your Highness ever been the sort of person who easily takes back her own words?”
“Tsk. If you can’t speak, at least you’re not hateful.”
She was undeniably one of the three most powerful figures in the empire, the iron-blooded empress who ruled the fierce northern tribes by force. Yet in verbal sparring with the man who had known her longest, she lost more often than not.
If anyone else witnessed this scene, they would rub their eyes a dozen times. It was that surreal.
“So, what of the items sent from the capital?”
“They should be organized by now. Shall I bring them after your meal?”
“No need. Since you handled it, I’m sure it’s been done properly.”
She was not soft enough to let personal affection cloud official duty. This was simply trust, born from recognizing Edgar’s competence and the fact that he had never once disappointed her.
“What do you intend to do with the captured immigrants?”
“Are they responding to negotiations?”
“They remain silent.”
About a week earlier, a major campaign had been launched to eradicate the pests plaguing the northern territories. The number of immigrants taken prisoner had barely exceeded one hundred. They had offered negotiations in exchange for the prisoners, yet the other side had simply clamped their mouths shut and offered no response.
At the report, a dangerous light kindled in Ariel’s crimson eyes. These were the thorns that had tormented the north she loved. She had never expected them to sit obediently at the negotiating table anyway.
“Kill them all. I have been granted full authority by the Emperor.”
Even though she spoke of the empire’s supreme ruler with such casual disdain, Edgar’s eyes showed no flicker of unease. After all, when the Emperor was not present, who could not curse him? And with her influence, it was not entirely impossible.
“Understood. Shall we display their heads?”
“That’s acceptable. If they attack again, we’ll simply crush them once more. Erect a tall pole before the defensive line and hang them there.”
After all, the hilt of the sword was firmly in their grasp. The immigrants’ invasions of the north were practically an annual event, yet each time this wall of iron held firm with unyielding strength. With the days growing colder, the other side would have to act once their food ran out. Hanging the heads was merely provocation.
Despite the brutal exchange, both faces remained perfectly calm. Ariel, in particular, stretched languidly as though her earlier cold expression had been an illusion, then turned to admire the scenery outside the window.
“I’d like lamb for dinner tonight.”
The remark was tossed out casually. Edgar, standing at attention, felt the corner of his mouth curve upward. Ariel did not notice.
“Riel.”
“...What?”
The deep male voice resonated quietly through the office. Several seconds passed before Ariel realized it belonged to Edgar. Her eyes flew wide open.
It was her pet name. A name only one man had used for her since her parents had called her that in childhood. A name she had believed she would never hear again.
Her head snapped toward him. There stood Edgar, expression perfectly composed. When she fixed him with her blood-red eyes, silently demanding he say it once more, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Let’s eat. I prepared lamb, knowing you would ask for it.”
Having spent so many years together, he knew full well that she craved lamb on days when her mood sank. He had personally prepared the dish for his master, who had labored hard with state affairs today.
Yet Ariel’s reaction to the welcome news was not entirely positive.
“You—you always do this…!”
“What did I do?”
Ariel slammed her hand down on the table hard enough to nearly shatter it and pointed a trembling finger at him, but he merely shrugged indifferently and left the office.
It was proof that even the title of ruler of the north held no power before the childhood friend with whom she had spent most of her life.
Left behind, Ariel lowered her head and swallowed her frustration. That man who always managed to ignite her temper. Next time she would humiliate him properly; he had better prepare himself. She would savor that day completely, using his suffering as her side dish.
Even after their bond had become one of master and servant, the playful banter typical between childhood friends continued without pause.