The Third Prince (1)
I turned fifteen and held my coming-of-age ceremony. In my previous life, fifteen? Nothing more than a chuunibyou-ridden middle-schooler. But in this medieval fantasy world, a coming-of-age ceremony served as official social proof that you were now an adult. In other words… from this moment on, I was a fully certified jobless noble.
After five years of rigorous magic training, I had already mastered every fourth-circle spell in the textbooks. Once that was done, the thought of poking at fifth-circle magic had crossed my mind, but now was not the time.
“You want me to connect you with a high-ranking noble?”
“Yeah. I’m counting on you.”
The person speaking with me right now was my fiancée—Brunhild Rosenfels, third daughter of Viscount Rosenfels. The connection between our families had begun with her eldest brother, who belonged to the Southern Knight Order. That bond had blossomed into a relationship that eventually led us to each other.
“So suddenly?”
“Yes. I’m leaving the territory. I’m going independent.”
“…Are you out of your mind?”
…Huh. She hadn’t always spoken this bluntly. When exactly had her tongue grown so sharp? The girl I first met had been the very model of a modest, refined medieval noble lady. I still didn’t understand how she had changed so much. Still, an explanation was necessary.
“Fifteen is the age of adulthood, isn’t it? Shouldn’t I start living a life that belongs only to me?”
“A life that belongs only to you? Are you forgetting that the person standing in front of you is your fiancée?”
…She was right. I hadn’t considered that.
“Haa… I really can’t live like this. Why on earth did they engage me to someone like you?”
“Uh… well, you see… I’m sorry, Hilt.”
“…Anyway, why a high-ranking noble?”
“That’s…”
The Rosenfels viscount family held lands near the capital of Gutbecken in the southern region of the kingdom. There were many ways to secure territory close to the capital, but the Rosenfels’ deep history made it possible. As one of the oldest houses, dating back nearly to the kingdom’s founding, their first settlement had been close to the capital, and that very settlement had become their domain. Moreover, true to their ancient lineage, the Rosenfels were known as the social connectors of the southern territories. Their ties extended not only throughout the south but to many central nobles as well. One could say they possessed influence far beyond what a viscount family would normally command.
By contrast, our family had only received a barony three generations ago. Our history was short. Nevertheless, because the current head was one of the kingdom’s mere three Sword Masters, we were regarded as a house of remarkable military strength—another kind of power not typical of a barony.
In a way, both families held strength disproportionate to their titles, so each must have noticed the other’s vulnerabilities. Perhaps they believed that uniting our houses would create an ideal partnership, each compensating for the other’s weaknesses.
That was how my engagement to Hilt had been decided.
…Honestly, I still didn’t understand why they had chosen me. No matter how I looked at it, if the goal was a connection between families, my younger brother Eckhart would have been the far better option. Despite his frail body, his sword talent was exceptional, and he was already openly discussed as the next head of the family.
Well, understanding Father’s thoughts had never been a one- or two-day affair, so I simply let it go. Among the retainers, rumors were already circulating that I had abandoned any claim to succession. To an extent, I had helped spread those rumors myself. I had repeatedly emphasized in every way possible that I had no interest in inheriting the Rosfel barony—even stating it outright on multiple occasions.
Then why, after declaring I would survive at all costs, that a commoner’s life was trash and that I would never relinquish noble command, was I now giving up the position of family head?
If I truly set my mind to it, inheriting an ordinary baronial house would have been an easily achievable goal. The problem was that our family was not an ordinary barony.
It was a newly risen house that had flourished as knights—because they were knights. From my great-grandfather’s generation, we had never fallen below top-tier Sword Expert, and in my father’s time we had accomplished the feat of producing a Sword Master. For a family established only fifty years ago, our prestige had already grown immense. Therefore, to maintain even a fraction of that glory, the next head also had to be a knight.
Not necessarily? …Yes, once our house became as deeply rooted as the Rosenfels. By then it might not matter whether the head was a knight or a mage. But not now. What would happen the moment an unsuitable head sat upon a house that had risen through knighthood? Did anyone truly believe that families who had watched us climb so quickly in such a short time felt no envy or jealousy? If I inherited the title, all the suppressed resentment currently held in check by Father’s prestige would turn into thorns and begin stabbing at our family. Knowing that full well, could I calmly take the seat? It would mean shoving my beloved family and the loyal retainers who supported us into a pit of suffering, all so that I alone could walk an easy path. I would never do something so selfish.
Therefore, independence was the answer. I had turned fifteen. I had completed the coming-of-age ceremony. I was simply carrying out the plan I had been contemplating for a long time.
A few days after asking Hilt for the favor, I received an invitation to the birthday banquet commemorating the 3rd Prince’s birthday and ended up attending. A prince, of all people. I had received a summons from someone far more significant than expected. I had assumed I would meet someone at the marquis or count level, but this was a grand event where everyone I had imagined would be nothing more than background decoration. They called the Rosenfels the social butterflies of the south, but I hadn’t realized their reach extended this far.
For the record, I was attending this banquet together with Hilt. After all, she was the one who had made my participation possible. The least I could do was escort her properly.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“Of course. Completely satisfied.”
“That aside, why exactly are you trying to meet a high-ranking noble?”
“I’m going to ask him to take me on as a vassal.”
“As a vassal?”
Correct. My plan was to attach myself to a high-ranking noble. If one asked why it had to be a high-ranking one, the answer was simple: titles.
Hadn’t I always called this a “damn medieval fantasy”? The key word was precisely “medieval.”
The Luxid Kingdom was a classic European feudal state in which local lords wielded enormous power. In other words, the great nobles of each region, though not called kings, possessed the authority and military strength to function as kings of their domains—essentially autonomous powers. Naturally, just as the king could grant titles, these great nobles also held the right to bestow titles and enfeoff land. What I was aiming for was to rise under one of these great nobles and become a landed noble myself.
Simply maintaining the status quo would have been easy. If I entered any noble household right now and began serving as a vassal, my noble status would remain intact. In the Luxid Kingdom, vassals such as knights and stewards were also treated as nobles. They might not possess their own lands, but they were still recognized as members of the nobility.
But that wasn’t enough for me. I needed at least a barony to feel satisfied. After all, I had given up the position of family head for the sake of my family. Then, for Hilt—who would become my family in the future—shouldn’t I at least regain a barony?
Right now, as the first step of that plan, I was traveling to the capital to attend the 3rd Prince’s birthday banquet.
Although there was still plenty of time before the event, we had to depart early. The roads were little more than unpaved forest trails, and traveling by carriage made all-day journeys exhausting.
Besides, without centralized authority, there was no standing army or police force. The only real means of maintaining public order were the local knight orders and family knights, yet expecting them to secure an entire kingdom was pure fantasy.
The phrase “five minutes before total collapse” fit perfectly. Cross a river and you met bandits; step into a forest and monsters appeared. It was exactly like tall grass in Pokémon—something unpleasant always jumped out.
Everything from one to ten was inconvenient. Fortunately, despite the terrible security, the journey was proceeding far more smoothly than expected.
Before the aftertaste of my conversation with Hilt could fade, while I was still pondering which noble I should serve, I suddenly realized I knew almost nothing about the host of the banquet.
“What kind of person is the 3rd Prince?”
I asked because I figured Hilt might know.
“The 3rd Prince? Hmm… Perhaps because he’s overshadowed by the others, there aren’t many rumors about him.”
Hilt fell silent for a moment. It seemed to take time for her to pull together what she knew.
“Richard Weistenfelma Luxid. His title is Marquis of Weistenfel. Compared to the 1st Prince—who is praised for being bold and strong—and the 2nd Prince—who maintains wide connections among the nobility—he is considered to have almost no presence. People say that once the succession is settled, he’ll probably live quietly as a provincial noble. He doesn’t seem particularly special, does he?”
Hmm… From what Hilt said, despite being one of the candidates for the throne, he sounded utterly unremarkable. Maybe that was precisely why I had managed to receive an invitation?
“Al?”
“Huh? What’s wrong, Hilt?”
“You’re not thinking something weird again, are you?”
“…I don’t think so?”
Hilt’s glare was sharp. It was obvious she suspected I was plotting something strange. When her stare grew too uncomfortable and I tried to look innocent, she let out a long sigh and the scolding began.
“You are not allowed to cause any trouble there. Even if it’s the banquet of the low-profile 3rd Prince, it is still a prince’s banquet. There will be absurdly important figures everywhere. You really cannot cause an incident.”
“I’ll try.”
I could almost hear the sound of her patience snapping. Hilt’s body trembled for a moment… and then she gave up on holding back.
“Not ‘try’! You must! Not! Cause! Trouble!”
Thump! Thump! Thump!
It hurt. Hilt was hammering both fists wildly into my chest.
“Hilt, that hurts.”
“I’m hitting you so it hurts, you idiot!”
“No, I’m serious—it really hurts. Your punches are ridiculously strong, you know?”
Swoosh!
With a chilling sound, her fist drove straight into my solar plexus.
“Ugh!”
A groan slipped out before I could stop it, and my body folded forward automatically. I… couldn’t breathe!
…Still, after getting beaten this badly, she would probably overlook it if I caused a little trouble, right?