Night of the Ultimatum (1)
Before I knew it, the sun had set.
They say even the finest mountain is best after a meal, so I headed for the annex with the simple intention of eating first. The grilled wyvern fin I never got to taste kept flickering before my eyes, goading my hunger on. I had heard it offered a chewy texture and a deep, savory meatiness. The moment an opportunity arose, I absolutely had to try it.
Still…
Who on earth cooked all those dishes?
Every last one of them had boasted such outstanding flavor that there had to be a true master of Monster Cuisine among the Grand Ducal Castle’s chefs. I would have loved to recruit the person, but whether I could match the enormous salary the castle paid, or persuade anyone to abandon a stable post for a farm-to-table gourmet journey, was another question entirely. Once my report with Sir Gelwood was finished, I would have to search the restaurants in the northern capital. There had been no shortage of places serving Monster Cuisine. Somewhere out there, a chef who dreamed of adventure and romance might be waiting desperately for the noble patron who could give them exactly that.
Hoping such a person existed, I reached the entrance of the annex—
“Eeeeeeldeeeeen—!!”
A passionate shout of my name forced me to turn my head. Of course it was the young lady with the bread-roll buns. Ariel, the only person who had worn a giant question mark in the middle of all the rejoicing and praise at the first reception. She had met the white-haired Erinicia a full step ahead of anyone else, so she must have been dying of curiosity. Judging by the absence of any book in her arms, she had not even managed to read today.
“Ariel?”
“What is it? What on earth is going on? How did this happen?”
Golden hair streaming behind her, Ariel came flying over and unleashed every question she had been bottling up, her face crowded with unsolved question marks. Whether the white-haired Erinicia she had met late that night a few days ago had really been Grand Duchess Lumiang. Whether the red-haired Baroness Erinicia of the Royal Academy had been the youngest daughter of the Winterfell Grand Ducal House all along. What circumstances could possibly explain it. What hidden story lay underneath. Who. When. Where. What. How. Why. The full battery of the five W’s and one H came pouring out, and I had been about to answer them when—
“Huh?”
A new question settled into the eyes that had been fixed on me. It appeared the instant her gaze landed on my right cheek. Then a question with the same shape but an entirely different meaning arrived. Ariel tapped her own cheek with a fingertip.
“Wh-what is this? How did this happen?”
That particular mystery needed clearing first, so I rubbed the cheek and answered.
“I got hit.”
“What? You finally pushed Dame Rachel too far and she smacked you one?”
The look on her face said she had always known it would happen someday. I gave a short laugh and corrected her.
“No. I got hit by the Grand Duchess.”
“Whaaat? Why? Why?”
At the unexpected answer her reddish-brown eyes and rosy lips both grew steadily larger. When the final piece of the answer landed, Ariel had to take on yet another question.
“I turned down her proposal.”
“…Whaaat?!”
There really was no end to the surprises for the young lady with the bread-roll buns.
“S-so, in front of all the candidates, Erinicia—no, Grand Duchess Lumiang—made a public proposal, you rejected it, and she slapped you for it?”
“Correct.”
I recounted everything that had happened at the second reception without a single omission. The truth had already been laid bare for the entire world, so there was no reason to lie or conceal anything from my classmate Ariel. On the contrary, telling her the facts was the right thing to do. Lumiang, unable to accept the change, had already approached Ariel—a third party—under cover of night. There was no telling what variables she might create if she still could not accept even the farewell I had given her.
“So you’d better not approach the Grand Duchess either.”
“I wanted to go say hello… but I guess I shouldn’t, huh?”
“Yeah. At least for a while, avoiding her is the safer play.”
The heroine’s state of mind was not good. People swallowed whole by vengeance always met miserable ends. I could only pray she would not go that far, but since she might well try to use a third party, caution until the marriage tournament reached a complete conclusion could not hurt. Lumiang already had a history of using Ariel, after all.
“Well… I’ll do as you say. But is the injury okay?”
Having solved the newly risen mystery, Ariel looked at my cheek with genuine worry. Warm fingers carefully applied a precious ointment she had been saving. A warm question that valued a friend’s wound more than long-held curiosity. Between Ariel and Rachel, both of them felt far more than the original Elden Raphelion’s karma deserved.
“I’m fine. Something this small is nothing.”
“Thank goodness. But seriously, how did it all happen? Erinicia was Grand Duchess Lumiang?”
After that I explained everything to Ariel—everything except the knowledge I possessed as a reader of the original work.
“No way… so it was true. Meaning the Royal Academy top graduates becoming the final candidates wasn’t a coincidence at all?”
I nodded.
“That’s right.”
“Then has your withdrawal been approved now?”
“The final decision-maker changed, so not yet—but for all practical purposes it’s as good as approved.”
“I see…”
A full week still remained before the marriage tournament would receive its grand closing period, yet for me the end had already been written. The moment to play the card I had been saving had arrived, which meant escape from the Grand Ducal Castle was imminent.
And so—
“Looks like the gourmet journey schedule is going to move up a little. You okay with that?”
I asked Ariel. If she begged me to wait just a bit longer because she still had so many unread books, I was fully prepared to wait. I had no desire to live so stingily that I would ignore a request from the first friend I had made in this world, a noble soul who had already given me so much help. Besides, there were still preparations to finish for a journey of rest and romance.
Contrary to my expectations, however, Ariel nodded brightly without hesitation.
“I’m fine with that!”
“…Really? Don’t you still have a mountain of books left to read?”
“So what? I can always come back and read books later, but the chance to watch you take down monsters in style only exists right now, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not planning to rush. There are still things I need to prepare. If you need more time I can wait, so just say so.”
At the offer to wait, the same Ariel who had accepted so cheerfully a moment earlier suddenly hesitated. With my current skill I would struggle even against low-class monsters and above. I had not even begun developing the ability to handle mana. There were preparations to make; there was no need and no reason to hurry. Above all, a journey of rest and romance had to place leisure first.
After a brief pause Ariel carefully opened her mouth again.
“Or… I heard that once the marriage tournament ends, a Monster Cuisine Festival is going to open in the northern capital’s central district. You said last time you needed to find a chef, right? There’s even a cooking competition. How about staying in the north a little longer and enjoying the festival?”
What?
Hold on.
“A Monster Cuisine Festival is opening?”
The moment I showed interest, Ariel’s excitement returned in full force.
“Yeah! The events run for five whole days along the main avenue! All the famous chefs from the northern territories are gathering, so maybe you’ll find who you’re looking for!”
“Oh-ho. Now that sounds tempting.”
“Hehe. I knew you’d like it!”
A nationwide Monster Cuisine map, a restaurant-review volume, and now even a Monster Cuisine Festival I might have walked right past without knowing. Meeting Ariel felt like nothing short of a blessing. Not only for recruiting a chef—Nureongi was about to receive a feast of mouth-watering bowls.
“Okay, I’m heading off! Get some good rest! You too, Dame Rachel~!”
And with that, Ariel once again delivered precious help and walked away. I could only hope the day would come soon when I could repay this debt, when I could give something back to the tree that gave without counting the cost.
“Hrm…”
From early evening onward, sighs and muttered self-reproach had filled the Central Aide’s office without pause. Gelwood sat in his chair, staring at the seal resting on the desk—the seal that symbolized the absolute, unrestricted power of temporarily acting in Grand Duke Logan’s name.
“Foolish… truly foolish.”
Gelwood berated himself. The regret was crushing. He had failed to stop Lumiang when she decided it would be better to choose from people she already knew and placed four Royal Academy classmates among the final candidates. He had sensed something strange yet failed to respond properly. He had never doubted Elden’s sudden withdrawal or Lumiang’s obsessive fixation on him. He had even passed a note of encouragement. Everything was regrettable, and the disaster that had now grown past the point of return felt entirely like his own responsibility. His heart was heavy.
A fated connection disguised as coincidence. Young Master Kyle’s collapse and disappearance. Twisted obsession toward a withdrawn candidate. The lukewarm attitude of the Royal Academy side. Every single circumstance had been shouting that this marriage tournament was never a search for a husband but a revenge play, that the buttons had been fastened wrong from the very first hole—yet he had done nothing. He felt utterly foolish.
Gelwood watched the candle flame waver precariously and took a sip of wine. Then he let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh mixed with another sigh.
“Heh… I suppose I’ve simply grown old.”
His insight was no longer what it once was. His judgment felt clouded. Even the concentration that once refused to overlook the smallest problem had grown thin. Age must have dulled every sense.
“Just what were you thinking when you planned all this… Your Grace.”
The marriage tournament that had gone wrong from the start was now racing toward catastrophe. Only three candidates remained who could possibly become the victor, and one of them was still insisting on withdrawal, making victory nearly impossible. Before Grand Duke Logan returned, the only way to salvage this disaster was to completely restructure every schedule of the tournament while simultaneously devising a method to halt the Third Grand Duchess’s rampage. And that method might have to be rather cruel. When sealing a crack that had already opened, neither restriction on means nor compassion could be allowed.
Gelwood rose and stood by the window. Gazing toward the Third Outer Keep where Grand Duchess Lumiang would be, he thought. Perhaps…
“…the curse was never truly over.”
The steps she had taken toward the Royal Academy, driven by thirst for learning and stubborn pride, risking the curse itself—those steps might have been the very beginning of the curse. Gelwood exhaled a bitter smile and another sigh.
Then—
Knock-knock.
Someone announced a visit. Gelwood opened the door himself and found himself astonished. In the middle of all this chaos and catastrophe, the one person still capable of smiling—the withdrawn candidate—had come to call.
“Young Master Elden?”
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“…Not at all, but what brings you…?”
“I have something to deliver, so I came.”
In his hand he held the note Gelwood himself had once passed to him, along with two Mana Records.
And on his face was a long wound that had not existed at the first reception.
It seemed to announce, without words, that the remaining three candidates had officially become two.