[No title provided]
Thankfully, the emperor's proposal to set me up with someone was scrapped.
'Lord Mars Noctus will soon play a crucial role in the decisive battle against the Heaven God Cult. Surely you don't intend to let him get entangled in needless emotions and botch the job.'
The reason was Luna's staunch opposition. She laid out logical, point-by-point arguments against my matchmaking like a runaway freight train that wouldn't stop, leaving the emperor flustered at first, then seemingly spooked by something as he quickly retracted the idea, calling it his own mistake.
'Come to think of it, he was even breaking a sweat...?'
Was the emperor's health worse than I'd thought? Now that I recalled, the Imperial Palace was so vast that the heating seemed inadequate. It had felt awfully chilly when I'd met him face-to-face. Makes sense—keeping a place that huge consistently warm must be a nightmare.
"I should ask the princess later to improve the palace's interior temperature."
"Why?"
"It felt kinda drafty inside when I went to see His Majesty. The insulation doesn't seem great."
"There? No way..."
The young lady looked skeptical, but I mentally noted to bring it up with Astraia soon and changed the subject.
"Anyway, do you need more info on Polo? It's been like two months since your last date with him, right?"
"Huh? Oh, uh... y-yeah!"
The young lady fumbled her words in a panic. Had she forgotten amid all the recent chaos?
"I still have stuff to think about! I'll tell you later!"
"Ah, got it."
Well, with the first date being such a flop, she'd probably want to prepare meticulously for the next one. Pushing her now would be rude; better to let her calm down and wait until she came up with something special.
"Ah, there you are."
"Princess? Were you looking for us?"
That's when a familiar face approached. Astraia strode up to me with her usual haughty gait and stopped right in front.
"Hmmm. Mars, do you notice anything different about me today?"
"New lipstick. It's a softer shade than usual—suits you perfectly. Bangs are trimmed a bit shorter, and your hair looks glossier; switched treatments? You've slimmed down a touch too—make sure you're eating well."
"Wha? Oh... um. Y-yeah, got it..."
She seemed thrown off by my specifics, her speech slipping back to casual. For some reason, I caught the young lady's icy side-eye, so Astraia cleared her throat and shifted attention.
"Ahem! Anyway, to the point. Our circle's next activity isn't set, so I have a recommendation."
"A recommendation from you, Princess?"
"Well... 'recommendation' might not be accurate—more like an investigation. A territory in the east requested reinforcements a few months back. Reason: exterminating monsters wrecking their fields."
"Ah, those guys."
Not all monsters attack people. Plenty are low-aggression, but some raid crops and churn up soil, making them natural disasters for farmers. Even low-threat ones can injure regular folk who try to fight back. They travel in packs, so knights or mages are needed for hunts—and smaller territories often lack the manpower, leading to occasional calls for outside help.
"They pop up in our lands sometimes too. I'd handle it, or the Helios family would lend knights."
"Right. But during processing, we found they hadn't paid this month's taxes. Turns out the monsters ruined their harvest, leading to that."
"So our volunteer gig is wiping out that territory's monsters."
I'd been wondering about our next circle event, and here Astraia dangled the perfect bait. Time to plan something that could spark a little romance between her and Polo during this one.
"What's the territory called, anyway?"
* * *
Marcel, a small, sleepy fiefdom in the eastern Empire. Strange things had started happening there lately.
"Dear... you don't look well. Maybe rest today...?"
"Shut up, you hag! Don't touch me!"
"Eek!"
The gentle wife, seeing her husband off to work, was knocked flat by his explosive rage. Her elbow scraped on the fall, drawing blood, but he just clicked his tongue at the sight and left without a word.
"Hic... sob... dear..."
This couple had been one of the territory's happiest, childhood sweethearts who'd confirmed their feelings and lived quiet days tending fields together. But lately, her husband came home barking at her like she was vermin beneath contempt, barely staying at all. Today, he'd only stopped by to grab hidden emergency funds—otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered.
"Elin, you home...? Oh my! What happened?!"
"Ah... Granny Jornu..."
"Lord almighty! You're bleeding! We need to treat that—where's the first-aid kit?!"
A timely visit from the neighborly old woman let Elin bandage her elbow.
"Did your husband stop by?"
"Sob... y-yes. Just briefly, then gone..."
"Sigh... what in the world are the men up to these days...? We report it, and nothing..."
The men of peaceful Marcel had started acting bizarre a few days ago. At first, their dazed behavior was chalked up to farm fatigue, but it worsened. The common thread: scorning and abusing wives or lovers.
Trash husbands weren't unheard of in a small fief, but when most men followed suit, suspicion brewed among the women. They called police or went to the lord's castle demanding probes—only to face brute-force suppression and surveillance.
Police and male vigilantes patrolled, watching for "foolish" female behavior. Trapped, unable to report or flee, the women endured oppression.
"If they'd at least farm properly, but they abandoned the fields and vanished who-knows-where... We'll all starve."
"Yeah..."
Farming fell to the women. They knew the work from watching, but it required muscle—and with every man gone mad, progress was a fraction of normal.
"Granny, shouldn't you be hiding too? What if they surveil you...?"
"Pfft, who wastes time watching a shriveled widow? Better I hurry up and die to join the old man."
Elin chuckled at the granny's wry quip, but worry for her husband gnawed relentlessly.
"It's too weird. All the men changing at once...? Like a curse?"
"I figured some magic nonsense too... but what do peasants like us know?"
Suspicion without proof, and lifelong farmers saw no fix. Marcel's isolation meant outsiders wouldn't notice unless they came.
"Ah! Granny! We petitioned the Empire for volunteers to hunt field-ruining beasts—maybe they'll come?"
"That was two months ago... If approved, they'd be here by now."
"But still..."
Granny's realism crushed Elin into despair. The old woman hugged the young wife tight, her face sad too.
"Is that Marcel?"
"Bit more remote than expected."
"It's been a while, so the fields look wrecked. Everything visible is on the brink of withering."
And into such Marcel territory stepped a group of young men and women.