Founding Festival (3)
The Grand Tribal Council convened on the second day of the Founding Festival.
And today was the day. The chieftains of the steppes and the heads of the Empire’s great houses had all gathered in one place.
I sat in the seat immediately beside the Emperor.
As the Emperor’s teacher they had reserved the place of honor next to him, and right now I felt like a pig being dragged to the slaughterhouse.
“So the day has finally come, Taesa.”
“It has, Your Majesty.”
I truly felt like livestock led to the butcher’s block. I would have preferred to let the whole thing slide, but of course those damned Ashtar people had gone and made a mess of things.
“I see the Ashtar Territory has sent people as well.”
As if my mood were not already foul enough, the Emperor whispered the observation right into my ear.
Shit. Yes, I can see them too. They were sitting only a short distance away among the second-row seats.
“They have. Both my father and my mother are here. Haha.”
There they were—the man and woman who called themselves my parents. Were they here to humiliate me? Why the hell had they come?
If their daughter had been named Taesa, the proper response was to stay buried on their own lands and mind their own business. Having them right in front of me made me unaccountably nervous. This was not some school open-house day for parents.
“I’m going to lose my mind. Damn it.”
Worse still, Aslan was present, and so was his fiancée Yuria. And Lightblade. And the Imperial Princess. Holy shit. The guest list was ridiculously diverse.
The only silver lining of the day so far had been running into that Turka chieftain. The same bastard who had stood by and watched while his tribesmen picked a fight over skewers. He and his retainers had nearly jumped out of their skins when they saw me.
What, you mean you didn’t know I was the Taesa?
Aside from that, everything about today’s lineup made my stomach turn.
“Lady Olivia, try this.”
Celia held a large forkful of steppe-style pork stir-fry up to my lips. Right. This was a problem I simply had to forget. I would just take whatever Celia fed me and eat it.
“It’s good, isn’t it, Lady Olivia?”
“Yeah… it’s really good.”
I forced the food down, chewing without tasting, while Celia kept piling more onto the fork.
“Ho. In that case, perhaps We too should offer Our teacher something to eat.”
“Y-Your Majesty?”
“Why should We not? Is she not the teacher who stands as high as heaven itself? Here.”
From my right the Emperor pushed food toward my mouth.
“You’re actually accepting that too…”
At that moment Olivia was thinking nothing at all—because she deliberately chose to think nothing at all. Until the matches began, I intended to stay exactly like this.
The pasta the Emperor offered melted on my tongue. I swallowed. He immediately offered more. Celia stuffed a piece of bread into my mouth. I chewed and swallowed again.
“Hm? Wait—why is everyone staring?”
I was simply accepting whatever was put in front of me, yet the weight of the gazes around the hall had grown distinctly heavy.
“Of course they are looking. How many people in the world get to be fed by both the Emperor and the next Magic Tower Master at the same time?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
They had done it on purpose! Trying to snap me back to reality! Even if I was an Ashtar, wasn’t this going to brand me as the Empire’s most hated person? What would the Council say? What would the central nobles say?
“It is pleasant to watch you eat so obediently.”
“Haah. Please stop.”
The Emperor’s voice slid into my ear, unpleasantly intimate. This was going too far.
“With this, the entire realm will understand that you are the true power behind the throne.”
“You planned this, didn’t you?”
Saying it that way made me sound utterly pathetic. Look—people were staring even more intently now. I wanted to crawl into a mouse hole and hide.
Me, the real power of this country? Why in the world would anyone commit such an act of pure insanity? Just imagining the nobles who would soon come crawling to me made the world in front of my eyes turn black.
“Very well. That is enough for now. Let us begin. You there.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At the Emperor’s summons a maid of the Assassin Guild approached with careful steps.
“There is a training ground behind the Imperial Palace. We are certain We ordered the preparations in advance. The Great Tournament is ready, is it not?”
The Great Tournament—the contest in which the Empire and the representatives of every tribe selected their finest warriors. In other words, the match between me and the bastards I was about to thrash.
What prize the victor would receive was still unclear, but to those nomads it was nothing more than entertainment. Regardless of the tournament, the Imperial Family—acting as elder brother to the steppe tribes—would load them down with enough winter supplies to survive the coming cold. The imperial nobles had no real complaints; the expense came out of the Imperial treasury, after all. The only real headache would be mine.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Preparations are complete this year as well.”
“Good. Then We shall have the chance to witness the Taesa’s skill.”
Why does everyone keep insisting on watching my skill?
“Haa. Fine. I’ll show you my skill. I’ll demonstrate the dignity of the Empire.”
“Surely Your Majesty does not intend to send the Taesa into the Great Tournament?”
An imperial noble asked the Emperor with a look of open alarm. In a country already this far gone, what was so difficult about it?
“Why should it be a problem? The head of House Ashtar has already given his consent.”
“Exactly! That is precisely the Taesa I wanted to see!”
This was not a girlfriend eager to watch her boyfriend show off. Siria and Ella had always been the same—desperate to see the Hero look impressive. Of course the Hero never had the slightest intention of showing off; I ended up handling every single job myself.
“Your Majesty.”
While I was lost in those not-quite-memories, someone called out to the Emperor. It was one of the men who had picked a fight with a shopkeeper only a few days earlier—the chieftain himself. He kept glancing at me while he addressed the throne. A bad feeling prickled at the back of my neck, but I decided to wait and see.
“Hm? And who are you?”
“I am Orkan, chieftain of the Turka tribe.”
“Very well. What is it you want?”
Please let it not be what I think it is. As long as this was not him trying to claim a bride according to steppe custom, I could stomach looking at his face a little longer.
“Is the Taesa truly entering the tournament?”
“She is. This year’s Imperial representative is she.”
“Then may this Orkan request a personal match against the Taesa?”
“Hm. There will be conditions. What do you seek?”
“That the loser grant the winner one wish.”
Son of a bitch. Look at that oily smile. I was genuinely offended.
“Oh? Is there something you desire from Our Taesa?”
“I have heard that the Taesa broke her engagement with Prince Aslan. Therefore…”
“You wish to take her as your bride?”
“Yes.”
Of course. Just as I expected. These people really knew how to ruin a mood. I hated generalizing, but every last one of them was irritating. The word “country bumpkins” rose unbidden in my mind.
The Emperor’s face and Celia’s both twisted openly, yet Orkan kept grinning as though he had just been handed the world. Could a man really behave like that inside a civilized empire?
“What say you, Taesa? Will you accept his request?”
“No.”
My answer was absolute. The idea was not even worth considering.
“Afraid you might lose?”
It was not about losing. I had no reason to be afraid. I simply found the condition itself insulting—as if my entire life were something that could be wagered.
I bit back the string of curses that wanted to fly and opened my mouth with carefully measured calm.
“I will accept a contest of skill. But even if I win, I gain nothing whatsoever, and the very act of staking my life and future on a match is the height of discourtesy. What else could it be?”
“That… is a fair point.”
“No matter that this is the Grand Tribal Council and the Great Tournament, the Empire is a civilized nation. I may be young, yet I am still this nation’s Taesa and its Saint. I have no obligation to follow steppe custom. If Chieftain Orkan insists on such terms, then he must stake the lives of his entire tribe.”
At my words Orkan and every Turka tribesman present flushed with anger, yet none of them dared raise their voices. After all, this was the Empire.
Or so I thought—until a woman stormed forward, fuming. One look at her face showed she was thoroughly offended. As if her feelings mattered. She was probably his younger sister—Atali or something similar.
“That crossed the line!”
“Your brother was the one who crossed it first.”
If you are going to covet something, at least choose something within your reach. How dare he.
Actually, before he even got near me, Celia or Lightblade would probably kill him. Lightblade already had his hand on his sword hilt; the atmosphere around him screamed that he was ready to cut the man down where he stood.
In the end the Emperor stepped between me and the girl to mediate, but my temper remained foul. Still, I would have to fight this one. Only then could I grind him thoroughly into the dirt. I had never met a cocky young hothead who turned out to be worth anything.
“Very well. Then you will accept the match itself?”
“Gladly.”
Since things had come this far, he would serve as this year’s sacrificial lamb.
“This year’s events are swordsmanship, archery, and spearmanship. Each of you may choose two of the three.”
Sword and bow, then. I could handle a spear, but it was not my preferred weapon. Spears were simply too long. The only people who thought spears looked cool were spear-users themselves. I preferred something compact and easy to handle.
“Swordsmanship and archery.”
“Spearmanship and archery.”
Spear and bow. So he thought he was the stronger one.
“Then the close-combat bout will be sword against spear. Archery will be decided by score.”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
I was already sick of the whole affair. That slimy gaze of his made my skin crawl. Had Siria and Ella really endured looks like that from the Hero every single day? And somehow they had still been willing to throw their bodies at him.
Better to finish this quickly.
“Ho. Do I look so easy to you?”
“Not easy—just that I want this tiresome festival finished as soon as possible. You’re the one who thought the position of Taesa looked easy enough to spit out such an absurd wish.”
“Any man would.”
Yes, I know I am attractive. Any man would fall for this face. But a man still needs to know his place. Did he seriously think he was a match for me? Looking like a bandit who had just crawled out of a cave?
A spark of genuine anger flared.
“Just because every man wants me, does that mean everyone else stays quiet? Be grateful I decided to face you myself. If I hadn’t, the festival would be crawling with people ready to kill you without anyone ever knowing.”
Even if they dismissed my words as a joke, the Emperor would have sent an Assassin Guild maid after him tonight. If not the Emperor, then Celia would have done it. Or Lightblade would have slaughtered him in the blink of an eye. Every last one of them operated under the same principle: no one but themselves was allowed to touch me. They would have killed him without a second thought for relations with the steppes.
Consider yourself lucky that I am the one standing across from you.