Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: <66. Sometimes a Gentle Plea is Stronger Than a Sword (1)>
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Hestia Neumann Tudor was extremely anxious.
It had been quite some time since she had secured the Crown Prince's promise for exclusive trade rights to dwarf-forged armaments, and all the details of the alliance had been ironed out.
All that remained was for representatives from both sides to affix their seals to the document and finalize the agreement.
Yet the Leonberger Kingdom's officials, who had seemed ready to wrap things up at any moment, suddenly began dragging out the negotiations.
When she asked why the sudden change in attitude, they cited orders from the Crown Prince.
Hestia immediately sought an audience with him.
"What exactly is it that doesn't sit right with you?"
She demanded to know why they weren't concluding the talks.
"Wait."
"How long exactly are we supposed to wait? As Your Highness well knows, if Duke Seymour of our kingdom steps in, the negotiations could become difficult. Dragging this out won't benefit your side either."
"You'll hear from me soon. Wait."
The Crown Prince merely repeated the word like a parrot.
Wait, he said—so she waited.
After all, he held the hilt of the sword.
A day passed, then another.
Even after all that waiting, there was no word from the Crown Prince, who had promised tidings soon.
Frustrated, she sought him out again.
But he refused her audience.
No matter how many times she visited, the result was the same.
She wasn't even allowed into his palace and was turned away at the gates.
Then came word that Leonberger's king was on the verge of returning.
The discord between Leonberger's king and his eldest son was famous even in distant Tutton.
The firstborn of the Leonberger family, hated by his father and exiled to the north.
Though the son had achieved great feats there, his father had refused to acknowledge them, instead granting him the empty title of envoy leader and banishing him back to the empire.
Rumors even swirled that after his narrow escape and return, the father had essentially confined his son for nearly a year.
Some said that without the war, the Leonberger heir would never have been released from house arrest.
Given the circumstances, Hestia grew deeply worried that the father-son rift might affect these negotiations.
From what she had heard, Leonberger's king was an emotional ruler, shortsighted in judgment, who opposed anything his eldest son did out of hand.
In her growing urgency, Hestia repeatedly sought an audience at the Crown Prince's palace.
Of course, he refused her again.
She berated herself.
She had been far too optimistic in her approach to the negotiations. Too elated by the promise of exclusive dwarf armament trade rights. She hadn't anticipated things unraveling like this.
The situation looked bleak.
To make matters worse, she heard through the Rose Thorn Knights that Duke Seymour had largely overcome his inner demons.
The thought that she might botch everything by trusting a foreigner's verbal promise tormented her unbearably.
But what truly tormented her was that even now, in this mess, she couldn't let go of her faith in the Crown Prince.
He was different from other men.
His words carried a strange magnetism, instilling in listeners the unshakable belief that what he said would come to pass.
Without his words, she never would have dared dream again of queenship after being crushed by men.
"Hestia, Hestia. To still trust him in a situation like this. What am I to do with you?"
She sighed.
As she fretted endlessly, Leonberger's king finally returned.
And shortly after the king's return, word came that the Crown Prince had secluded himself completely in his palace.
Apparently, he was unwell.
A man who had crushed the west's greatest knight, Duke Seymour, and reduced him to a cripple—now falling ill at this juncture?
It was a lie no child would believe.
It only reminded her anew of the Leonberger family feud that had reached even Tutton.
Then one day, the king dispatched a herald.
"His Majesty says he awaits Tutton's representative in the grand hall at noon tomorrow."
To Hestia, it sounded like he planned to meet tomorrow and scrap the deal.
It was the moment her unyielding faith in the Crown Prince shattered.
Dawn broke, and she donned her formal attire before heading to the hall.
There, she met Leonberger's reigning monarch.
"Hestia Neumann of Tutton's Tudor family greets the sovereign of Leonberger Kingdom. It is an honor to meet you."
"To encounter the Tudor royal family's proudest rose without seeking her out first fills me with joy as well."
Formal greetings were exchanged.
Bowing her head, she began calculating the king's reaction.
"I've heard the gist of your situation, so I'll dispense with pleasantries."
The king spoke softly in the meantime.
"The agreement between Tutton and the kingdom will proceed as planned."
At the unexpected words, she snapped her head up.
For the first time, she saw the king's face.
A man in his mid-thirties, his features strangely familiar.
This was what the Crown Prince might look like aged. The only difference was a far gentler temperament.
"Your face suggests you thought I might void the agreement."
Hestia unwittingly nodded.
"The rift between me and that boy must have reached Tutton. It's no wonder you thought so."
"That was not my intent."
Realizing her breach of etiquette too late, she hastily bowed in apology.
The king smiled indulgently and accepted it, adding,
"Everything that boy promised will come to pass."
The Crown Prince's pledges would be honored.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
She bowed deeply, praising the king's decision.
Inwardly, she cursed Tutton's gossips.
A dreamer chasing independence from the empire despite lacking ability.
A senile king, steeped in vice, looking far older than his years.
A petty father envious and hateful of his talented son.
Not one of their tales rang true.
The so-called dreamer's eyes were too sharp for empty reverie, his supposedly frail form a decade younger than claimed. And in the few words mentioning his son, the king's voice brimmed with profound trust.
After that, the king expressed concern for her health, promised remedies prepared separately, exchanged a few trivial words, and dismissed her.
"Ah..."
Leaving the hall, she swayed as tension drained from her.
But she quickly straightened and composed herself.
"Do you require more time? If possible, I'd like to review the details today."
The kingdom's negotiators awaited her.
"The same for me."
She reviewed the documents they had prepared, stamped with the Leonberger royal seal.
"Just as we agreed."
Hestia affixed Tutton's seal without hesitation.
Thus, the alliance between Tutton and Leonberger was sealed.
It was the moment the princess, confined like a garden flower due to her sex, gained formidable authority over dwarf armament trade.
Soon after, Duke Seymour shook off his defeat and resumed his position.
"His Majesty clearly commanded that this alliance be solidified through marriage. Yet why have you handled it unilaterally, Princess?"
The duke's face, usually affectionate and never scolding her harshly, was colder than ever.
His eyes brimmed with wariness, as if facing an enemy.
Had this been Tutton's palace, he might have erupted.
Hestia sneered inwardly.
So his unclely affection had been this shallow. Meaningless unless she remained a decorative flower.
Her father was no different. Nor most Tuttonians.
They cherished the obedient, beautiful princess—not a queen to share power.
"What His Majesty desired was a firm alliance. Marriage was but one of many means. It needn't be a prerequisite."
Hiding her thoughts, she politely persuaded Duke Seymour.
"The delegation's mission is marital alliance. That is His Majesty's command to you. Interpreting it unilaterally undermines his dignity—how do you not see that?"
But Duke Seymour didn't truly hear her.
Once, she would have bowed her head under his reprimand, repeating apologies.
"If Duke Seymour truly reveres His Majesty's commands as sacred, surely you know this attitude insults His Majesty, who appointed me head of this delegation."
Not anymore.
She was no longer the powerless princess craving hollow respect and affection.
The duke's expression hardened.
"That wasn't my meaning. I merely worried you might face His Majesty's rebuke."
"I fulfilled my mission. Securing dwarf trade is an unexpected boon even His Majesty didn't anticipate. Don't you think this merits praise over reprimand?"
At her question, Duke Seymour fell silent.
His eyes held confusion and greater wariness.
Hestia savored that gaze.
For the first time, they felt equals.
But she wouldn't make an enemy of Tutton's power broker on a whim.
"I'm already looking forward to it. Imagine how majestic the Rose Thorn Knights would be armed with dwarf-forged gear."
The duke's lips, which had parted to retort, clamped shut.
"Treasures have owners, as do the sharp swords dwarves forge. Regrettably, I lack the eye to discern them. I need a knight skilled in judging blades and their masters."
Hestia drew the sword the Crown Prince had given her.
"Someone like you, Uncle."
She swung it freely.
The duke's face changed.
Displeasure and wariness gave way to greed.
A look he never would have shown before.
For he was a knight of such lofty pride he'd forsake the throne for sword mastery.
But that pride lay shattered.
By Leonberger's firstborn.
"If my humble talents can aid the kingdom, what reason to refuse?"
With pride lost, the duke chose power.
"I gladly cooperate with you, Princess."
A radiant smile bloomed on her face.
Beautiful as a rose, sharp as its thorns.
Hestia had come to bid the king farewell before departing.
"I hope Tutton attends the forthcoming banquet as an allied nation. Would you oblige?"
"My kingdom has urgent matters, so I can only apologize."
She bowed repeatedly, prepared to perform farewell rites.
"At the banquet, we'll select the Crown Princess. Given the times, it'll be hasty, but allied felicitations would make it more meaningful. But with your kingdom's urgencies, I shan't detain you on my whim."
Before hearing the banquet's purpose, she certainly would have.
"A event like that demands attendance!"
Hearing it, Hestia cried out unwittingly.
"I recall you mentioning urgent matters."
"An allied celebration takes precedence."
The king chuckled heartily, thanking her.
Thus, she and the Tutton delegation delayed departure to attend Leonberger's banquet.
Normally, she would have rejected any audience outright.
But she couldn't.
The visitors weren't high-ranking.
Quite the opposite.
Barons or viscounts at best.
They were the kingdom's minor nobles.
Local lords who steadfastly held their posts while grand dukes and high nobles colluded with the empire. Fathers entrusting their children to me. Hard to refuse.
"Yes, it's been a while. Baron Tailheim."
At my acknowledgment, the portly man prostrated himself gratefully.
"I should have visited more often to pay respects, but I failed—my deepest apologies."
"My oversight. I should have shared news of Taylor, but I've been swamped."
"No news is good news. I trusted he was thriving under Your wise Highness."
After rote greetings, I cut to why they'd come to the capital.
"His Majesty decreed all kingdom nobles attend the capital banquet."
I thought the banquet Baron Tailheim mentioned was merely a victory celebration.
"Congratulations in advance. May Your Highness find a match befitting your wisdom."
It wasn't.
"What?"
Frowning at the out-of-left-field remark, I demanded clarification. Baron Tailheim goggled.
"I heard it's for selecting Your Highness's consort... Did you not know?"
I hadn't. Holed up quarreling with my main body, I'd been oblivious to outside events.
"Not only kingdom nobles but foreign envoys will attend. Most bring their realm's finest maidens. His Majesty will choose one as Your Highness's consort..."
Hearing that, I couldn't sit still.
I shot up, ready to storm the king's chambers—then more visitors arrived.
It was Siorin.
"Your Highness. At this banquet, Ar..."
"Out!"
She looked ready to spout nonsense, so I ejected her summarily.
Then Tutton's princess visited.
"I thought Duke Seymour, the west's premier knight, would be different. But no."
"Isn't that good for you?"
"It is, but it leaves a bad taste. My admired uncle's true face is uglier than expected."
"Is that something to say to a foreigner?"
"What's wrong? His bottom's already exposed."
"Someone might think we're close."
At my words, the princess feigned hurt.
"I considered Your Highness quite close. Was it one-sided?"
"Spare the amateur acting before me."
"If only Your Highness were like other men. Then you couldn't treat me so coldly."
She grinned, her sulk forgotten.
"No business? Then state your purpose. You're not here to badmouth your knight."
Asking her errand, she dodged before spouting irrelevancies.
Some kingdom's princess had a terrible reputation.
Another looked unrecognizable barefaced.
One lady's temper kept her unmarried at home.
My face twisted at her gossip about strangers.
"So what? What of it?"
Irritated, she ignored me, rattling on about unheard-of women.
"Since my looks don't impress Your Highness, no issue. They're all inferior to me anyway."
"I can't fathom your point."
"Just hoping you don't fall for those sly foxes hiding their hearts."
With that, she dumped her piece and left.
"What the..."
Frowning and clicking my tongue, I headed straight for the king's bedchambers.
"His Majesty is in his bath."
The king refused me.
I sought him repeatedly.
"His Majesty is exhausted and abed."
"His Majesty just retired..."
Each time, lame excuses kept him from me.
Betrayal boiled my blood.
Damn it—this wasn't why he spared me.