6. Much Ado About Nothing - 05
6. Much Ado About Nothing - 05
It is said that a thousand years ago, Debhart—the hero who ended all the continent's calamities and became the first Emperor—agonized greatly over how to govern the empire. Even though Debhart had reshaped a third of the continent into one colossal empire, large and small disturbances still plagued the realm without cease.
Looked at from another angle, this was hardly surprising. They had spent countless ages snarling at each other, leveling spears and swords. Did anyone truly expect them to throw their arms around one another, gather to drink, and feast like old friends just because they were now "fellow citizens of the empire"? Even after the Emperor's decree forbidding all conflict arrived, the situation refused to settle. They had hated one another for so long, had taken from one another as if entitled to it. By now it seemed only a causeless, festering hatred remained between them. And so the chaos only deepened, the unrest growing more dire by the day.
The newly founded empire, for its part, did not yet have the strength to project power all the way to its distant frontiers. In the end, Debhart resorted to a drastic measure. He took his most trusted and cherished vassals—the four great dukes—and assigned them to the ends of the realm in an attempt to spread the imperial household's influence as far as possible. Of course, as founding contributors they were granted the choicest territories within those borderlands, but the fundamental truth remains: the ducal houses were, for all practical purposes, packed off to the sticks.
Thus were established Estel in the north, Turnizen in the west, Dekaraznan in the east, and Crussel in the south.
This is why the four great ducal houses—second in rank only to the imperial household itself—have been stuck in backwater frontier fiefs for the past millennium. By now, of course, it is nothing but a moldy old tale reeking of age. I know very well that complaining will change nothing, but there is one fact I simply cannot bring myself to swallow.
'Still, why did it have to be us stuck in the north?'
The empire's history books fill pages with noble-sounding drivel about how the four great ducal houses represent the very model of noblesse oblige, sacrificing themselves and so on and so forth. But whenever I read those passages, I can barely keep my face from crumpling. Why, for the love of everything, why did it have to be House Estel assigned to the north?
I've heard that these days, popular novels among the ladies of the imperial capital feature a sculpted, beautiful "Northern Grand Duke." He's said to be strong enough to slap a Master silly, to possess the coldhearted nature of a lone wolf who shows no mercy to his enemies, and, crucially, to have money rotting in his coffers. I frankly consider every last word of that to be goddamned nonsense.
Let's apply common sense: how could a godforsaken province where sleet falls even in midsummer and farming barely functions possibly be rolling in money? The real Northern Grand Duke isn't someone showering the heroine with jewels and dresses. He's more like a grasshopper staring at the sky with a leaden sigh, wondering how in the hell he's going to get through the coming winter—a creature desperate and ill-prepared.
The reason I am suddenly thinking all of this is that the scenery of the Castana Marquisate, visible outside my carriage window, was worlds apart from the bleak, indescribable barrenness that was the north's norm.
It was green pasture. A peaceful expanse of broad grazing land met my eyes, where a shepherd boy tended cattle. Beyond the grasslands stretched wide fields. The fields were thickly planted with wheat, and the sight of those wheat stalks rippling in the wind was so beautiful that for a moment it looked like waves of liquid gold surging across the earth. Around the fields, a dense windbreak forest of hornbeam and hinoki cypress had been planted, blending so harmoniously into the landscape that I couldn't help but think the whole scene resembled a painting.
"...My master told me that House Castana possesses ways to artificially control the weather using magic. They also have methods to restore the earth's vitality and replenish the nutrients in the soil. So, I don't think you need to berate yourself so much, Lord Kain."
Aria, sitting beside me, had apparently read something in my expression, for she carefully spoke to me. Truly, first Bianca and now Aria... does learning magic grant a person the ability to see through others' hearts like glass?
"...Yes, I know. At least that much—that their prosperity stems from a transcendent power like magic."
How could I not know that? Ten years from now, when the Winter Witch brought an age of winter across the entire continent, it would be House Castana's magic, and theirs alone, that made even limited agriculture possible. Of course, even for them, producing food while overcoming a bone-chilling cold that could freeze the very moisture in the air must have been a grueling task.
Not long after I'd been gazing out the window, lost in various thoughts, the carriage rolled to a halt. The coachman's voice reached me from the front.
"...Young Duke, we have arrived."
"...Have we? Good work."
So we had reached our destination at last. Aria and I waited quietly inside the carriage, and soon the door was opened with great care. Before it stood a middle-aged man with his hair slicked completely back and attired in a tailcoat, deeply bowing his head toward me.
"Young Duke Estel, welcome to House Castana."
I gave a slight nod.
If he had come personally to greet me, the Young Duke Estel, then the middle-aged man before me was surely of no low station. I returned a small nod in his direction and stepped down from the carriage.
I lifted my head. Into my eyes loomed a colossal castle, easily twice the size of House Estel's main keep and three times as magnificent. It went without saying that this was the main castle of the Castana Marquisate.
'Goddammit.'
Seeing with my own eyes how spectacularly well a rival house—one we weren't even on good terms with—was doing made my stomach churn with spite. House Estel was still using the very same main keep built a thousand years ago, yet House Castana, overflowing with money, had not only expanded their castle but apparently renovated it here and there as well.
'...Physical-Resistance Formulas engraved on the walls and the gate. And on top of that, did they coat the gate itself with arcane metal?'
I'd wager that just the money House Castana lavished on that gate could have funded a complete rebuilding of House Estel's entire main keep. I knew the financial gulf between the two families was vast, but I had never imagined it was this deep.
I let out a bitter smile as I fidgeted with the bracelet in my pocket. Of course, with this much money to burn, Bianca could hand over such a thing as a gift without a second thought.
But that was when it happened.
Rrrrrrumble—
The gates of House Castana swung slowly open with a weighty groan. And past them, I saw a host of servants lined up neatly on both sides, standing at attention. The moment the gates opened, they all bowed their heads toward me in perfect unison.
"We greet the Young Duke Estel!"
"....."
The servants' greeting was so impeccably disciplined, as if they had rehearsed it several times over, that I found myself tensing up. Nominal betrothal or not, I had never imagined House Castana would give me such a welcome. Was Bianca truly in her right mind?
But this was not the end. At the far end of the corridor formed by the lined-up servants, I spotted a lovely lady in a magnificent sunset-hued dress, watching me with eyes brimming with tears. The woman, with her crimson hair and crimson eyes, matched the sunset-colored dress that emphasized her figure with an almost cruel perfection. She was so beautiful I found myself thinking that the phrase "flower-like face, moon-like grace" must have been coined just for her.
"Kain!"
Bianca, in her sunset dress, came running toward me with light, graceful steps. Barely two weeks had passed since we parted, yet her face wore an expression of indescribable longing. If a stranger had witnessed this scene, they might have mistaken the look on Bianca's face for that of a widow whose husband, once reported dead on a battlefield, had suddenly returned alive. It was such a wretchedly pitiful expression that even I—who knew very well what a damnable woman she was—felt my heart lurch for an instant.
"...Kain, I've missed you. Truly."
So saying, Bianca slipped right into my embrace. An odd thought struck me—that a subtle, sweet fragrance, almost like fruit, was emanating from her. It was dizzying. I don't know why, but for a fleeting moment, I found this woman lovely.
Just then, a single stray strand of hair was visible against her cheek. As if possessed by something, I raised my hand. And I carefully plucked the hair from Bianca's cheek. As my fingers brushed her skin, Bianca gave me a soft, subtle smile. Our gazes met. Her crimson eyes seemed to waver, lush and enticing.
I swallowed hard.
The sound of my own throat working reached my ears. This was dangerous. At this rate, it might cross the line from a pretense of an engagement into something real. The Bianca before me right now possessed that much allure.
Rustle.
I heard the sound of fabric brushing against fabric. Bianca held me tightly. The sensation of her voluptuous figure pressed against my entire body was impossible to ignore. This was too much to just be an act. I felt my hands begin to tremble. Bianca simply watched me and let out another soft laugh. By now, it was truly impossible. My reason was slowly being stripped away.
"...Lord Kain? Are you alright?"
If only—right at that moment—a certain girl's voice hadn't called out to me as she got out of the carriage. At Aria's voice, my senses, somehow grown hazy, snapped back to clarity.
"...Ah."
And with that, the spell was broken. I stepped back from Bianca on pure instinct. The thought that staying beside her any longer could make me do something unspeakable in front of all these people had seized me.
"...Haa."
And the very moment I took a single step away from her, Bianca's expression transformed into something so vicious it defied description.
'...You crazy bitch.'
Seeing that utterly ferocious face, I flinched in spite of myself.
"...What in the..."
Bianca glared at Aria, who had alighted from the carriage, with eyes that were unmistakably full of irritation. Thus, the two of them exchanged glances.
".....!"
The moment Bianca saw Aria's face, her eyes went wide. Her pupils shook violently, like someone who had seen something she should never have laid eyes on. And a cold, piercing light began to gleam in her eyes. Simultaneously, I felt a faint, subtle energy leak from her form. Most likely, a sudden surge of emotion made her momentarily lose control of her own power. I realized it on instinct. This was dangerous. Genuinely.
"Bianca!"
Without thinking, I rushed to Bianca and swept her into my arms. It was a move born of calculation: no matter how far from her right mind she might be, she wouldn't push me, her nominal fiancé, away in the middle of so many watching eyes.
"...Ah, Kain."
...Fortunately, nothing untoward occurred—no shoving me away, no flying into a rage at my sudden action. She simply remained still, resting quietly in my arms. As if to say that this was what she had wanted from the very start.
"....."
Watching Bianca, I squeezed my eyes shut without meaning to. There was no longer any doubt. I hadn't imagined it. What had leaked from Bianca just now, that energy. It was unmistakable.
Killing intent.