The Unequal Treaty Noblewoman
"Kuh..."
"What are you doing, brother? Sign it already."
"A... alright."
Cedric had become surprisingly compliant. Compliant enough to docilely sign even this grossly unequal treaty. If this had been a diplomatic agreement, it would've gone down in history not just as a violation of sovereignty, but as an utterly vile pact.
I, Cedric Orpheus El Fredericia, hereby swear to serve as the slave of my younger sister, Celestia Erienne El Fredericia, and carry out all her commands with the utmost sincerity.
"This is too much... Did I do something that wrong?"
"A disgrace to the family."
"..."
"And my macaron."
"..."
"Now that you've become my slave, shall I issue my first command? Clean up the macaron that fell on the floor, then bring me a fresh one. Right now."
"A-alright!"
At my order, Cedric bolted off somewhere in a panic.
Once Cedric had vanished, I turned to Mariella. She was pouting, cheeks puffed out, deliberately avoiding my gaze.
"Mari, what's wrong?"
"You know exactly what's wrong! I thought you were standing up for me, Celi...!"
"Was that it? I didn't mean it that way... I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize!"
Mariella shouted that, then plopped back down at the table. She snatched a macaron from the messy spread and popped it into her mouth. Moments like this made her seem like the perfect noble girl her age—total kid stuff.
"I feel like such an idiot... Do you even think of me as a friend to begin with, Celi?"
"Of course. Mari and I are friends, aren't we?"
"Then why do you always speak so formally to me?"
"Well..."
Truth be told, it had just happened that way. I never used casual speech with anyone. The original Celestia didn't either, but for some reason, it came naturally to me now. It was just... comfortable.
"Because it's just more comfortable that way?"
"Who in the world finds formal speech comfortable?"
"Now, now, calm down, Mari. It was actually for your sake too. A little bit, at least..."
"..."
"More than a little, but anyway—it's true that I was angry about my brother saying nasty things to you."
"..."
"He was way out of line. Macarons are one thing, but you being insulted? That's what needs the apology."
"I knew it... That's what I thought."
"Naturally. Everything up to now was just teasing."
"I'll trust you. Based on how you handled things..."
She said she'd keep an eye on me going forward, but at least Mariella's mood had lifted. Girls her age really were simple, huh...
"Oh, it's about that time, Mari. Teacher's class is starting soon, right?"
"Huh...? Oh no!?"
In the midst of it all, Mariella's lesson time had snuck up. She jumped to her feet in surprise. I waved her off cheerfully.
I'm jealous... I wish I could take swordsmanship lessons too...
Unfortunately, Father hadn't assigned me a sword instructor.
"Miss Celestia. The family head is looking for you."
The moment I returned to the mansion, Father summoned me. My personal maid, Annette, began leading me to his room.
"..."
"You're rather quiet today, miss."
"No need to say anything unless there's something worth saying."
"A new personal maid has been assigned to you recently. Have you heard?"
"No."
"I'll introduce her after your meeting with the family head."
Black hair, black eyes, faint freckles on her cheeks. A maid with a somewhat stiff image. Annette and I had an awkward relationship. We only spoke when it was strictly business.
But I never felt short on maids. Annette alone was more than enough. I handled dressing and preparations myself anyway.
So why a new maid all of a sudden? I hadn't even thought about it.
"We're here. Please go in, miss."
"Yes."
Annette ushered me into Father's study.
"Hello, Father."
"Sit there."
"Yes."
Father was scribbling away at some documents. Managing the Fredericia family's territories kept him perpetually busy. Sometimes I wondered if all the work was what made his temper so foul.
"Why did you call for me?"
"Be honest. You have zero interest in magic, do you?"
He set down his pen mid-document and cut straight to the point.
To be honest? Yeah, spot on. I had no interest in magic whatsoever. Dull foundational theory, boring principles, rote knowledge... My life was already dopamine-starved enough without adding magic to the mix. I wasn't that patient.
Besides, magic was for smart folks. I was too dumb for that crap.
"Yes."
"Knew you'd say that. You know our family is a magic house, right?"
"Yes."
"Exactly. So if you're not going to help the family through magic, we'll need another way... You get that."
"Do I have to be useful to the family?"
"If you're a member of this house? Obviously. So I've been thinking, Celestia. You'll marry the firstborn son of the Roishutent Margrave family."
"Pardon?"
He dropped the marriage bombshell out of nowhere. The reasoning was clear enough. If I couldn't contribute as a mage, better to use me as marriage bait for the family's gain.
"It's not a bad deal for you. Once you're married into Roishutent's firstborn, you'll be free to do as you please. No pressure to learn magic. I won't meddle in your affairs. Just pass along my messages to the Roishutent Margrave periodically."
"No thank you."
"What...?"
"You said it was to help the family...? I can do that plenty without selling myself off to some guy."
Sure, free room and board while doing whatever I wanted didn't sound awful. But no thanks.
First off, marriage meant sharing a bed with a man someday, and I wasn't gay—hard pass.
Second, it was boring as hell. I'd transmigrated to a fantasy world, and now they wanted me riding dragons? No, off to married life without even fighting one? Too much.
Third, the Roishutent Margrave house. Early villains in the original novel Tears of the Stars Flow Along the Blade. The first bully who tormented the protagonist for being a commoner, schooled at light speed, and unceremoniously booted. That guy was the Roishutent firstborn. Name was something like... Preshtin El Roishutent? Close enough.
Anyway, bad juju. I didn't want the fallout.
"You think you can help?"
"I may not know magic, but swordsmanship? I've got confidence."
I nodded firmly as I said it. But it clearly wasn't the answer he wanted—Father's face twisted.
"Swordsmanship? That feeble swordplay?"
"Yes. At least as well as the Raiklant family."
"The Raiklants succeeded through sheer stubbornness with that feeble swordplay. You think you match them? Did your friend Mariella give you private lessons or something?"
"No. I'm better than Mari."
"Can you prove it?"
"Of course."
I grabbed an umbrella propped nearby in the study. One Father favored. He'd carried it in here, but it wasn't for rain—purely stylish. If it wasn't functional as an umbrella, I could use it as a sword, right?
"Put that umbrella down. Now."
"I'll prove it. Let's spar right here, Father."
"You mad bitch..."
"I don't listen to anyone weaker than me. Not even you, Father."
I grinned as I said it. Father's face went from twisted to sheer disbelief—he just stared at me for a long moment.
"Hah... 'Raising kids is pointless,' they say. This is exactly that. You're not just hopeless at magic—you lack basic common sense."
"Thank you."
"That's not a compliment."
Father sighed deeply, then began tidying the letters on his desk.
"So, no arranged marriage? Fine. But how exactly do you plan to help with that swordplay?"
"I heard Cedric passed the Apprentice Mage exam recently? I'll achieve something similar. For instance... I'll enroll in the Imperial Central Academy."
"The Imperial Central Academy? Any noble has to go there. Isn't that right?"
"In the special class."
The Imperial Central Academy. I knew it well from Edn's lessons and the original story—couldn't avoid it. Every noble attended, but its title as the world's top academy came from something else: an elite handful dubbed the special class.
It wasn't about education—they got special rooms for unrestricted research. Only the most brilliant of geniuses attended. The absolute cream of the crop.
Just getting in meant massive prestige. Families that produced a special class student basked in honor for years. No exaggeration—as long as they didn't squander it themselves.
"..."
Father pondered my words, then picked up one document and set it ablaze.
Whoosh—
A proposal letter to the Raiklant family, offering your betrothal.
"That was a letter proposing your betrothal to the Raiklant family. Get the meaning?"
"No idea. Isn't that obvious?"
"With that brain, swordplay suits you better than magic. Enroll in the Imperial Central Academy. You get five years. Special class entrance only. Fall into general admission, and we'll forget this talk. Prepare for marriage humbly."
"Of course."
Well, Edn wasn't wrong in the end. I was better suited to swords than magic. I'd held his precious umbrella hostage to get that acknowledgment, but things had worked out fine.