Chapter 35
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Provocation to the Snow Queen
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First off, the Snow Queen doesn't appear in the game.
She lives up north and wields unique magic that manipulates ice, which earned her the nickname Snow Queen.
I wondered why ice would be called "snow," but who knows.
Maybe because she's the queen of a northern kingdom.
Or perhaps her pale skin evokes images of snow.
From what I learned in etiquette class, she has several relatives and a handful of siblings.
Typical royal family setup.
"Siblings, huh..."
"Why bring that up out of nowhere? Curious about her family ties?"
I'd muttered it absentmindedly, and Mane tilted her head, looking impatient—like she wanted me to spit it out already.
"Yeah. How close they are, if they get along or not. And if they're all blood-related."
"From what I know, they're not particularly tight-knit. But they all share the same parents, so blood relations are confirmed. No adoptees or bastards in the mix."
"Ah, I see."
I straightened up and nodded.
Hearing they weren't close gave me a hunch something might stick.
"You planning to sow discord? They're no fools—they won't budge for just any bait."
A sharp, chilling shiver raced down my spine.
I hadn't said a word, so how'd she know?
"Something like that, but if I play it right, I think there's a shot."
"A shot, huh."
"Sounds ridiculous without backing it up, right?"
"Not at all. The higher you climb, the more intuition matters. The world rarely runs on pure logic."
The human world isn't that logical.
Not always true, but it rang painfully true.
"Plenty of cases like that."
"Highborn, lowborn—doesn't matter. Scratch where it itches, and they scratch back. In that sense, they're pretty itch-prone."
She takes a liking to the phrase "scratch" and slips it in so naturally. Is this the learning curve of royalty?
"Good news, then."
"But it's all relative. Can't change their nature, though they'll need more prodding than your average person. They've had training, after all."
"Training doesn't rewrite personality, though."
"Exactly. That's the angle to hit... but we're back to square one. Got any good bait in mind?"
Mane flashed a sly smile as she asked.
She wasn't clueless—she was just fishing for my thoughts.
'I really got nothing.'
My ideas had sorted a bit, but nothing concrete surfaced.
Easy enough to think about who to fuck today or in what position.
Politics, though... nada.
'Fuck?'
Then the word "fuck" hit hard.
Its violent edge conjured a raw, brutal image.
"Auntie."
"Yeah? Hit you with something?"
"I did, but it might be risky."
"The more provocative, the better. Spill it."
Mane's eyes sparkled as she urged me on.
Any hesitation, and she'd pry my skull open by force.
'Kinda scary.'
I shuddered briefly, then slowly spoke.
"What if we stir up a blatant shitstorm?"
"How blatant?"
"You said she threatens Ion's future, right? Mix that in, poke at the queen a bit. Throw in some bluff too."
"You mean outright call for replacing the one on the throne?"
Exactly.
No clue if it'd land, but prime material for major chaos.
"I'd love to if possible... but too tall an order?"
I nodded curtly, and Mane's lips twitched like she was holding back laughter.
Not anger—pure amusement.
"Ahahaha!"
She clutched her sides and laughed till my ears rang.
She looked so thrilled, I almost felt bad interrupting.
"Wow... Haven't laughed this hard in ages. You made my day. Perfect."
Mane finally caught her breath after a solid minute.
"For real? You're not laughing at how absurd it is?"
"Not even close. It's genuinely solid. Gonna be fun after all this time."
Mane's eyes gleamed sharply.
Too hot a bait, apparently.
'Oh shit, scary!'
I swallowed dryly without thinking.
The flames roared higher than expected—my heart pounded.
"You've handed me a perfect excuse, so I'll handle the play. But with shit hitting the fan, we'll hold off on moving for now. Cool?"
"If you're okaying it, I'd like to see it through. I'll help wherever I can."
"Thanks. It'll pay off for the pilgrimage too."
Exactly.
Better to contribute than spectate—earns you leverage.
Like how Mane handed me execution rights on purpose.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. More importantly..."
Mane stared intently, then clammed up.
Her scrutinizing gaze made me tense oddly.
"Nah, never mind. We'll talk after this blows over."
A classic way to piss someone off flashed in my mind: starting to say something and stopping.
'No helping it.'
I wanted to pry—even threaten—but she's family.
Had to let it slide, nagging or not.
"Sure, Auntie. Tell me when you're ready."
"Thanks. If things roll as expected, we'll head out in a few days. Rest up till then."
"Head out? Where to?"
I tilted my head, and a smile curved Mane's lips.
"The borderlands."
Ion's northern kingdom is rugged.
Mountain ranges dominate the terrain, and swaths of land stay snowbound year-round.
That doesn't make it poor, though.
Quite prosperous, actually.
Abundant timber and pastures, plus ice-free ports.
Rich mineral deposits too.
Solid foundation for a sturdy national power.
"Read it aloud. No additions or omissions—just recite her exact words."
In the capital's royal palace of that northern kingdom.
The woman on the white throne scowled, displeasure plain.
"Yes, Your Highness."
The man below the throne unfolded the letter with trembling hands.
It had just arrived at the palace today.
"Hey? Doing well?"
The man intoned the perky line in a solemn voice.
The sheer dissonance made the queen and everyone in the throne room furrow their brows.
Sinister yet playful tone.
Fiendishly vicious unique magic that anyone from the north despised.
It was Mane's style of speech.
—Sending spies to a nation isn't a grave sin. Everyone does it, and if caught, you negotiate it away.
—But daring to touch the empire's crown prince? That's unforgivable. It's akin to touching your own king, a direct challenge to the state.
The words were bubbly, but the intent cut like a blade.
The queen's furrowed brow deepened.
"A-and..."
The man stammered, lips twitching.
Terror widened his eyes, pupils quivering faintly.
"Don't cower. Keep reading. I won't punish you."
The queen scowled and prodded.
Better to rush through than dawdle like a nervous fool.
'I-I don't know! Just do as ordered and bail!'
The man squeezed his eyes shut and pressed on.
The path ahead was dark, but the letter's words burned bright as sunlight.
"Th-therefore... dethrone your current queen and install another ruler. O-otherwise, face the empire's wrath."
That is all.
The man finished the final line, crumpled the letter, and prayed the queen's fury missed him.
"...The gall."
Whoosh.
A winter gale howled with the queen's icy voice.
The sealed throne room had no cracks for wind, yet blades of frost whipped through.
'Can't utter a word.'
'Clear blunder, but the vibe...'
All in the room kept stoic faces and silence to dodge her rage.
"Your Highness faced hardship from their blunder, but we can't let it slide. Provoking with kingly airs makes it worse."
As the cold, keen winds raged, the young man closest blinked and broke the hush.
The queen calmed her anger and breathed deep.
In a palace short on trust, he was her most reliable brother.
"As the opening states, you mean we should negotiate?"
"At minimum, we meet face-to-face. They claim hard evidence of touching the crown prince—no ignoring that."
"Hm... yes. You're right. Too much at stake for international prestige to pretend otherwise."
The queen muttered, brow creased.
Her kingdom was strong, but no match for the empire.
Allies were key.
Good relations kept the encirclement intact.
Mutual border trade preserved profits.
Between nations, between people—trust was vital.
Shatter it, and deals crumbled.
Seize or be seized.
Push with force till you break.
"Sniveling petty lord, scheming to the end. We must avoid such ugliness."
"Yes, indeed."
"Tch! Should've gathered intel quietly. Lowly scum overstepped and splashed shit everywhere!"
Bam! The queen slammed the throne's armrest.
The sturdy seat shuddered like it felt the pain.
"Wasn't originally this grave, but bad luck. They hit the crown prince of all people."
"Not luck—their greed ruined it."
The queen's tongue-click stabbed hearts.
Pain too sharp to lift heads.
"You've steeled your resolve, then."
The young man murmured, and the queen sighed in reply.
"Have to. Don't want to, but I gave the opening—gotta face it myself."
"Same thought here."
"You lot, quit nodding and prep for travel. You, stay by my side."
The young man bowed, and the silent courtiers spoke as one.
—Yes, Your Highness.
They bowed out swiftly, seizing the excuse to escape the stifling air.
"...Pathetic to the last."
The queen sighed at their retreating backs.
Like routed soldiers fleeing a mad rout.
"Who stays calm before the queen's wrath? Expected reaction."
"We count it fortunate they didn't panic?"
"Holding neutral faces was achievement enough. Anyway, depart at once?"
"No reason to dawdle."
The queen rose and descended the throne steps.
Her white dress clung, outlining long, slender, lean legs.
Classic model build.
The young man eyed the empty throne briefly, then met her gaze.
"They'll be rushing preps, so rest in your chambers."
"Need a drink to unwind."
Northerners love their booze, queen included.
She held her liquor too—could down flasks of potent spirits without a buzz.
Always packed some for trips.
Comfort and body heat in one.
'Unhappy? We'll negotiate if you come begging'?
Pure provocation.
A trap you couldn't ignore.
If it were a noble.
Even another imperial scion, not the crown prince—room to reconsider.
But the crown prince.
The emperor's precious heir, doted on and fretted over.
Powerless against her kingdom.
Authority outmatched—no bullying with might.
"Tch."
The queen clicked her tongue and headed to her bedchambers.
Today's tab would run high on liquor.