Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: 62. Embers in the Furnace Remain the Same (5)
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Among all the women I'd met in my life, Sigrun was undoubtedly the most beautiful.
Even among the fairy folk, who boasted absolute beauty, her appearance—stemming from the noblest bloodline—was transcendent, beyond expression by all the praises for beauty in the world.
Her wicked and sadistic temperament was the problem, but purely in terms of looks, few in the world could compare to her.
If I had to name a few, there was the Sword Empress during the Great War era, the Archmage of White Night four hundred years ago, and in this age, Arwen Kirguyen.
Of course, in terms of innate physical beauty, none of them could match Sigrun.
But each of them possessed a unique brilliance that Sigrun lacked.
The Sword Empress had the dignified beauty of a commander who triumphed in countless battles and the noble strength born from her knighthood. The Archmage of White Night had a delicate, innate grace and the mystical allure derived from the truths she had grasped. Arwen possessed a distinctive elegance and loftiness stemming from her radiant and upright personality.
By comparison, the princess of Tuton was clearly lacking.
Her innate features and poise fell far short of Sigrun's perfection, her dignity didn't measure up to the Sword Empress's, her delicacy and mystery paled against the Archmage of White Night, and her natural grace and nobility were inferior to Arwen's.
Even judging by mere appearance, the Tuton princess couldn't hold a candle to the sword maidens and sword fairies.
Yet when the Tuton princess appeared, the greetings at the banquet froze in awe.
A face so pale it lacked any trace of blood,
eyes that seemed ready to spill tears at any moment,
a frail frame and delicate shoulders that looked like they'd be swept away by the slightest breeze.
Charitably speaking, she stirred protective instincts; uncharitably, she looked like a sick patient.
I leaned toward the latter.
But it seemed everyone else favored the former.
"Hestia Neumann, eldest daughter of the Tudor family, offers her apologies to the members of the Leonberger royal family and the various nobles of Leonberg Kingdom. I am deeply sorry for causing you all such worry."
"N-no, please! The ferocity of the North Sea and the harsh winds of the kingdom are not easy for foreigners to endure, so we know it's not the princess's fault! There's no need for apologies."
Maximilian responded to the princess's awkward kingdom tongue—too clumsy even for empty flattery—with an unusually excited tone.
He didn't even seem to register that she'd greeted them in the kingdom language.
Grand Marshal Villepeldt wasn't much different.
Watching him gaze at the princess with a face full of profound concern, as if she were his frail granddaughter, nearly made me burst out laughing.
Just when had he ever seen this woman before?
Glancing around, the others wore varied expressions, but the emotions flickering across their faces were much the same as the marquis's or Maximilian's.
Deep pity and affection.
The only one unchanged as always was Count Shiorin Kirguyen.
Gazing silently at the Tuton princess, Shiorin subtly curled the corner of his mouth.
No doubt, he'd compared her looks to his daughter's in his mind, sided with his girl, and was now pleased as punch.
Sensing my gaze, Shiorin suddenly looked my way.
His eyes, brimming with superiority, seemed to boast at me that Arwen was far better.
Normally, I'd have clicked my tongue at such blatant fatherly pride, but right now, even that felt welcome.
The men at the banquet were that far gone, completely out of their minds.
The Tuton delegation couldn't possibly miss the atmosphere.
A sense of superiority dawned on Duncan Seymour Tudor's face. His smug, pleased smile was utterly infuriating.
Thud.
I deliberately slammed my hand on the table to snap everyone back to reality.
Maximilian, who had been half-dazed and babbling away, finally came to his senses and shut his mouth.
The Tuton princess looked at me.
"Hestia Neumann, eldest daughter of the Tudor family, once again greets the crown prince of Leonberg Kingdom, whose fame as the envoy of the North resounds far and wide. Meeting a hero renowned across the continent like this has my heart racing beyond measure."
"Ah..."
The kingdom's dignitaries let out sighs at the eerie smile formed by her already drooping eyes sagging further.
"Tsk."
I clicked my tongue softly, and Maximilian and the others, realizing their blunder, clamped their mouths shut and composed their expressions.
"I've always wanted to meet the people of Leonberg Kingdom at least once. The kingdom's victories are so wondrous, even to a woman ignorant as I, that I've longed to hear the full stories someday. And now, fate has brought me here today, sharing a table with so many heroes—how could I not be overjoyed?"
But their freshly schooled expressions melted away the moment the princess chirped like a bird, lavishing praise on the kingdom's triumphs.
It was a spectacle.
And among them, Maximilian was the biggest fool of all.
"Truth be told, when we first declared severance from the Empire, the whole world laughed at us as fools. Everyone said the kingdom would soon be crushed under the Empire's heel."
"The Leonbergers who made such a difficult decision are nothing short of awe-inspiring and worthy of respect."
"We merely did what had to be done; it wasn't for anyone's admiration."
"That's precisely why it's so respectable. The world is full of those who shirk their duties because they're too arduous."
Falling for the princess's prodding, Maximilian prattled on endlessly about the thorny path the kingdom had walked.
"Ahem."
I cleared my throat to warn him, but Maximilian didn't stop flapping his gums.
The guy who usually read my moods like a ghost was acting like a different person today.
Perplexed, I looked at Maximilian and saw an unfamiliar heat glimmering in his eyes.
It seemed Maximilian had fallen head over heels for the Tuton princess at first sight.
I couldn't comprehend it at all.
What was so special about that sickly woman?
Arwen was prettier, and she was wise and strong to boot.
And she wasn't the only one.
Half of the sword maidens and sword fairies bore fairy blood, making them just as beautiful, and they each had more than enough skill to hold their own on the battlefield.
Compared to them, the Tuton princess was nothing but a full-blown invalid.
I couldn't fathom why Maximilian and the kingdom's dignitaries were losing their minds over her.
The kingdom was overflowing with beautiful women who were also exceptional swordsmen.
"Tsk."
I clicked my tongue without realizing it, and the princess suddenly rolled her eyes toward me.
"I see. Truly impressive."
Her face still turned toward Maximilian, her mouth chiming in agreement.
But her eyes met mine, smiling ever so faintly without Maximilian noticing.
Seeing that smile made me chuckle unwittingly.
Her eye smile deepened.
Without even knowing why I was laughing. I'd laughed out of sheer absurdity.
From then on, I leaned back in my chair and stared at her openly.
The Tuton princess slyly rolled her eyes back to Maximilian.
He was still rattling off his tales of valor.
The problem was,
"My brother..."
"If not for my brother..."
"Even during the northern uprising, it was my brother who..."
"My brother..."
"My brother's..."
that those "tales of valor" weren't his—they were mine.
It was absurd.
Bragging about his brother in front of a woman he'd fallen for at first sight.
"Maximilian."
"So my brother... Yes? Brother. Speak."
"The food's getting cold."
Unable to stand it, I stepped in and politely told him to save the rest for after the meal.
"I hadn't noticed. Thank you for pointing it out, brother."
Any other man might have sulked at being scolded in front of a woman, but Maximilian didn't seem offended—instead, he looked at me with even more reverence, as if I'd imparted some great wisdom.
"Let's eat before the food gets any colder."
I sighed and urged the Tuton delegation to dig in.
Then I focused on my own meal.
During the meal, I felt peculiar gazes several times.
Lifting my head, I'd find the Tuton princess staring at me. I stared right back without backing down.
Under my blatant gaze, her face flushed red, and she returned to her food.
Peck, peck.
But her eating was utterly unappetizing.
Not a single appealing thing about this girl.
I shook my head slightly and dove back into my meal.
The Tuton princess was thoroughly unlikable, but I had to admit one thing: ever since she appeared, Duncan Seymour Tudor—who'd been grating on my nerves nonstop—had gone quiet.
Thanks to that, I could finally enjoy a leisurely meal after so long.
**
"No way! Brother! How can you say that?!"
After the banquet ended, I pulled Maximilian aside and quietly asked if the Tuton princess had caught his eye. He jumped as if scorched.
"I have no intention of meddling in your marriage!"
"I've told you countless times: I'm not interested in marrying her. Meeting her today has only confirmed it."
Maximilian tilted his head at my words.
He asked what was so unappealing about her exceptional looks and gentle disposition.
To that, I replied,
"She's too frail. She looks like she couldn't even lift a wooden sword properly."
A pretty flower that's only good to look at is utterly useless.
"What use is a woman who can't even protect herself?"
Maximilian paused, then asked,
"Brother. What exactly do you consider a spouse to be?"
I thought it over carefully before answering.
"Someone who encourages and draws out each other's growth, whom we can respect for their talents and character, and whom we can trust?"
Maximilian's face turned incredulous.
"That's not a spouse—that's a comrade."
"If the person you're with for life isn't a comrade, what is?"
When I shot back, Maximilian sighed deeply.
"Brother. Marriage isn't about recruiting an outstanding knight."
"What's wrong with wanting a lifelong partner to excel in their abilities?"
Maximilian opened his mouth several times, closed it again, and finally let out a heavy sigh.
"Anyway, I have no plans to marry, so if you really like her that much, go ahead and marry her yourself. That marriage, I mean. She seemed quite taken with you earlier."
"Brother! When did I ever say that?!"
"Then quit yelling if you don't mean it."
I grinned slyly, and Maximilian sighed again.
"If that's the kind of spouse you envision, what about Lady Arwen?"
After a long pause, he suddenly spouted something out of left field.
"She's the kingdom's proud silver lioness in her own right, and her bearing and character are unmatched in the realm. Moreover, her family, the Kirguyen countship, has served the crown loyally for generations—no one could claim she lacks qualification."
I frowned.
"From what I've observed, she seems to have her eye on you too, brother."
"Our relationship isn't what you think, so cut the nonsense."
"Brother, you really don't understand women."
Hearing that from a naive fool who'd spent his time bragging about his brother in front of his crush—it was ridiculous.
"Tch. Enough of that drivel. Things get serious starting tomorrow, so steel yourself."
My words turned Maximilian's expression solemn.
"I'll prepare without fail."
"Then go rest first."
At my subtle dismissal, Maximilian bowed slightly.
As he grasped the door handle and turned it, he suddenly looked back.
"But really, brother—you truly have no interest in the Tuton princess?"
"A fragile thing like fine glasswork could never appeal to me."
"Understood, brother. Then, as discussed, we'll proceed with the northern armaments as collateral."
Back to his sharp self in an instant, Maximilian said that and left the room.
"Tch. At least hide those red ears if you're gonna play it cool."
But I'd already spotted the faint relief on his face, so I just chuckled.
Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the door then.
"Shiorin Kirguyen here, Your Highness."
"Come in."
The door opened, revealing a man as handsome as ever.
"I have a few matters regarding tomorrow to discuss, so I apologize for visiting Your Highness at this late hour."
"If you know it's rude, make it quick."
Undeterred by my jab, Shiorin brazenly continued.
"But before we discuss tomorrow, I have one question for Your Highness."
"What?"
"Is my daughter truly not to your liking?"
I finally looked Shiorin straight in the eye.
He must have overheard my conversation with Maximilian from outside.
Fire blazed in Shiorin's eyes.
His expression seemed to demand why a punk like me dared reject his daughter.
"You used to talk like you'd keep her by your side forever."
I chuckled and asked. Shiorin replied with a pained face.
"She swore to live her life with the sword alone. If things stay this way, even decades from now—long after I'm gone—she'll remain unmarried forever. Thinking of that, I can't just indulge my own greed anymore."
"Anyone hearing you might think Arwen's lived celibate all this time because of her father's selfishness."
When I pointed out she wasn't the type to cling to her father that much, Shiorin winced.
"That's not the point right now."
But it was fleeting; he quickly regained his usual shamelessness and pressed me.
"No one else comes to mind but Your Highness. And that girl wouldn't refuse you."
"Arwen would?"
I let out a hollow laugh.
The parties involved had no such thoughts, yet those around them were making a fuss.
"Count, you seem to misunderstand your daughter."
"Your Highness seems to misunderstand women even more."
"Everyone's saying that today."
Maximilian earlier, and now Shiorin spouting the same nonsense.
The former was the ravings of an immature fool, but the latter was different.
He was a man once adored by women across the kingdom, now the kingdom's prime minister.
Not the type to spout baseless drivel.
"Hm."
Caught off guard, I rubbed my chin absently. Shiorin spoke in a polite yet firm tone.
"So I ask again for your intentions. Before you answer, know that this question comes formally from the head of House Kirguyen, sounding out the crown's will."
Straightening his posture, Shiorin fixed his gaze on me.
"What do you think of Arwen, Your Highness?"
His face was filled with indignation, as if forcing out unwelcome words, but his eyes were more serious than ever.
"Under the premise that the marriage with Tuton falls through."
Regardless of my bewilderment, Shiorin asked again.
"Do you have any intention of taking Arwen as your wife, Your Highness?"
At his persistent questioning, I unwittingly reflected on my feelings toward Arwen.