Chapter 213
Chapter 213
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 213
Chapter Title: 63. Sword and Rose, and Lion (5)
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The princess of Teuton looked at me with her characteristic slender smile.
Just seeing that face made me feel like a fool for bothering to carve out time for this.
I suppressed the urge to bolt from my seat right then and there, forcing my fidgeting hips back down onto the chair.
"What do you want from me?"
I decided to hear her out first.
"Though it's belated, I offer my boundless respect for the valor shown by the knights of Leonberger Kingdom and the astonishing feats displayed by Your Highness the Crown Prince."
The princess elegantly bowed her waist.
"Furthermore, my uncle Duke Seymour and I are truly grateful for Your Highness's mercy in allowing our duel to end without injury, out of consideration for him."
His body was unscathed, but his spirit was shattered. And she was thanking me for showing mercy.
It was such an absurd statement that it almost sounded like mockery at first glance.
But there wasn't a hint of sarcasm on the princess's face.
Her sparkling eyes were filled only with goodwill.
Most men would probably have been fooled by that slender figure and honeyed words.
But I wasn't one of them.
I was just sick of it.
The act of approaching with an innocent face and binding the target with pleasantries dripping like honey.
The gaze that made the other person think she harbored feelings for them.
It was all too familiar to me.
After all, Elder High Elf Sigrun had used those exact tricks on me until I was fed up.
Compared to the millennium-old ploys of an Elder High Elf, the princess's performance was amateurish, her intentions plain as day.
"Moreover, regardless of victory or defeat, this duel allowed our two nations to deepen our understanding of each other. I eagerly anticipate the future development of relations between our countries."
The princess kept spouting more nonsense.
As if our mutual understanding had deepened—when all we'd done was deepen grudges.
"Is that all you came here for?"
If I let her go on, I'd be stuck listening to this drivel all day, so I couldn't hold back and spat it out.
The princess flinched and looked at me.
Her expression was quite the sight—after averting her eyes while playing the shy maiden, now finally facing me.
I couldn't see my own face clearly, but no matter what it looked like, it wasn't what she expected.
"Ah..."
As I stared at her wordlessly, our eyes met, and she startled, lowering her gaze while her eyelashes trembled.
Just like a girl wounded by harsh words.
She was persistent, I'll give her that.
She must know by now that such childish acting was pointless.
Under my cold demeanor, she bowed her head even lower.
She clenched her small fists and parted her lips several times before sealing them again.
A long silence followed.
I was starting to get irritated, wondering how long I had to play along with this farce.
I'd stayed only because I suspected some hidden agenda.
My patience had reached its limit.
"If there's nothing else, let's end this here."
With that, I shot up from my seat.
"Leonberger Kingdom."
As I turned toward the door, her voice came from behind.
I looked back. The princess, who had been bowing her head, now held it high, staring straight at me.
Still the diminutive frame, still the pallid face.
The only changes were her slightly squared shoulders and the shedding of her fake smile.
But that alone transformed her aura and temperament completely.
To the point where I wondered if it was the same person.
"No, Your Highness the Crown Prince—what is it you truly seek?"
Her voice was clear and sharp, devoid of the earlier subtle whisper.
"Is Leonberger Kingdom's goal merely to survive by winning a war against the Empire?"
I turned fully to face her.
"Continue."
I lifted my chin and said.
"Teuton aims higher than that."
The princess resumed her paused words.
"Hegemony over the continent. That's what Teuton desires."
Unity among nations opposing the Empire was just the beginning, she said. Teuton had prepared much more.
"Did that include the finest knight in the west, by any chance? If so, my apologies. The sharpest sword broke because of me."
I sneered, lacing my words with mockery at Teuton's overambitious dreams.
The princess didn't get angry.
She just smiled faintly.
A smile whose meaning eluded me.
"Your Highness, my congratulations on your victory over Duke Seymour were sincere."
Her blooming smile twisted.
But her lips quickly returned to normal.
"If you hadn't overwhelmed Duke Seymour so decisively, I wouldn't have had this chance to step forward."
It was an unexpected revelation.
I knew well of Duncan Seymour Tudor's peculiar fondness for his niece.
"So your relationship isn't as good as rumored."
"Duke Seymour truly treats me like his own daughter."
She shook her head and added,
"But that affection only matters if the niece knows her place."
Her lips twisted again.
There was some backstory there, clearly.
But it wasn't my concern.
"You're not here to lament your woes, I hope."
At my indifferent remark, the princess's eyes widened.
"Kuk."
Suddenly, she burst into quiet laughter.
After a while, she stopped and apologized to me.
I told her not to worry and to finish what she was saying.
"I can only express my gratitude for Your Highness's vast magnanimity."
I hadn't said it to receive thanks.
Truth be told, I wasn't offended. If anything, I felt more at ease than before.
This vibrant expression was far better than the fake one reminiscent of the Elder High Elf.
"As I mentioned earlier, Teuton is uniting nations against the Empire. Several have already joined, and barring any major upheaval, Teuton will lead the alliance."
"So, quit resisting and join us willingly—is that it?"
At my blunt words, the princess's lips twitched before she composed herself.
Then she asked me,
"Would Your Highness consider becoming the star of the party Teuton has prepared?"
She inquired if I had any interest in becoming the leader of the anti-Empire alliance.
Another unforeseen proposal.
"Now that's intriguing."
Until then, I'd been listening while standing by the door, but now I returned to my seat.
"Of course, this is only possible if Your Highness accepts my proposal."
I sank deep into the chair and looked at her.
The princess smiled brightly.
Her eyes burned with fervor.
It was an ambition too vast for that tiny frame.
I had to revise my assessment of her.
What she harbored wasn't a snake, but an imugi.
One yearning to become a dragon, even if it meant ruining her kingdom's grand plans.
I asked her outright.
What did she want from our kingdom?
"The chronicle."
The princess answered without hesitation.
"The chronicle of Leonberger Kingdom—grant me that position."
**
Hestia Neumann Tudor was a woman beloved by all.
As a child, her angelic beauty and precocious wit monopolized her father's and uncle Duke Seymour's affection.
As she grew, her innate allure captivated countless men.
Teuton's beloved woman.
That was Hestia Neumann Tudor.
But that was all.
Her father recognized her intelligence yet wished her to remain merely a princess.
The nobles' and knights' reverence was nothing more than admiration for a beautiful flower in the Tudor royal garden.
That wasn't what Hestia Neumann Tudor desired.
She wanted true reverence in every gaze directed at her.
Not admiration for her beauty, nor deference to the woman loved by the king and duke—but genuine awe from the heart.
She longed for all to look up to her and fear her.
Her father loved her deeply yet denied her ambitions.
He even guarded against them.
For the reverence she craved was permitted in Teuton to only one person.
In her naive youth, she tried to change her father's mind, believing he would relent once she proved her abilities.
But no.
The more she demonstrated her talents, the more she outshone her brothers, the harder her father suppressed her.
Feeling resentful and aggrieved, she confronted him.
'Do not overstep. Be content with what is given to you as a princess. Anything more is not permitted.'
With a stern face she'd never seen before, her father warned her not to covet her brothers' inheritance.
It was a clear warning.
Fortunately, even at her young age, she was sharp enough to understand it—and the consequences of defying it.
From then on, she played the role her father desired.
Luckily, it wasn't hard.
She just had to mimic the demure young ladies her age.
But inwardly, she festered.
Unattainable ambition gnawed at her flesh.
She began to wither away.
And time passed.
One day, Hestia Neumann Tudor heard news of the war between Leonberger Kingdom and the Empire.
That a insignificant northern nation had triumphed over the mighty Empire—and that Teuton planned to draw them into an alliance.
When she learned they would send one of the princesses as a symbol of the alliance, she volunteered to go to Leonberger herself.
It coincided with her sisters refusing the posting to that backwater kingdom, leaving her father troubled.
After much deliberation, he granted her request.
Whether out of paternal grief at watching his daughter waste away, or fear that her ambitions would sow discord in Teuton, Hestia couldn't say.
It didn't matter either way.
As long as she escaped this stifling cage.
For the first and last time, her father entrusted her with a grave duty.
Head of the delegation.
Yet even with her first major responsibility, nothing would change no matter how brilliantly she performed.
Even if she leveraged her true abilities to achieve the delegation's goals, all she'd gain was the role of chronicle in a foreign land.
Princess of Teuton or crown princess consort of Leonberger—it was the same: a flower in a garden.
Her uncle Duke Seymour volunteered to escort the delegation.
Time passed. She set out for Leonberger as planned.
They said it was at the continent's northernmost edge, and the journey was brutally harsh.
In the end, her frail body couldn't withstand the north's severe climate and fell ill.
She burned with fever.
She couldn't step out of the carriage once, lying abed the entire way.
Even after arriving in Leonberger's capital, it took days for her to recover.
Though healed, she used her illness as an excuse not to leave her room.
Duke Seymour didn't press her.
He pitied her future as a foreign chronicle.
But she couldn't hide forever under the pretext of illness. After agonizing for days, she attended an unwelcome banquet.
And there, she beheld the blood of House Leonberger.