Take Her to the North
Six days.
Six days of switching horses twice at waystations and being cooped up together in a cramped carriage.
The scenery outside the window had changed completely along the way. The gloomy, withered weeds of the north gave way to vibrant plains and rolling grasslands stretching wide and green.
And far in the distance, the faint silhouette of colossal walls and structures rose high enough to pierce the sky.
The heart of the Empire, the center of the continent — the Imperial Capital.
"Like I said! Master likes my bare legs better! I clearly caught his gaze lingering last time!"
"Mistakes are free, I suppose, but aren't you indulging in a rather grand delusion? Darling loves this girl's soft, plump cheeks... and her tails, you see? Every single night he strokes them so very gently... ♡"
What on earth are the two of you even talking about...
What kind of conversation could have spiraled into that?
It seemed like things would get genuinely dangerous if I left them alone any longer, so I hurried to calm them both down.
"That's enough of that nonsense, both of you. We're almost at the gates."
At my words, Alice and Vivian glared daggers at each other for a long moment before finally straightening up in their seats.
Screeeech—
The carriage slowed to a halt before the guard post at the main gate. A sentry stationed there approached and knocked on the carriage window.
"What business brings you to the Imperial Capital? Present your identification, please."
"I am Jerome Ascalon, lord of the Ascalon domain in the north. I've come to attend Her Highness the Crown Princess's birthday ball. And these are... my daughters."
The instant my introduction ended, two small, indignant voices erupted simultaneously from across the carriage.
""Tch...""
At the word daughters, Alice and Vivian's lips both pouted out like an offended duck's.
When I shot them a look that asked what the problem was, Alice jerked her head away, while Vivian wrapped her tails around herself in a spiral, airing her grievances in her own way.
Well. On paper, you two are my adopted daughters.
Wouldn't it be far stranger to announce, 'I raised them like daughters, but actually they're both madly in love with me'...?
I drew the ornate invitation from inside my coat and handed it to the guard. The man took it, giving it a cursory glance — and then his eyes went wide as saucers, and with trembling hands he began looking back and forth between the invitation and my face.
"Th-this is...!"
Suddenly the guard took a step back, snapped a salute, and began shouting in a voice stiff with military discipline.
"F-forgive me! I failed to recognize an honored guest of Her Highness the Crown Princess! I will dispatch word to the Imperial Guard at once!"
"Her Highness's... honored guest?"
When I asked, flustered, the soldier who was already yelling orders to open the gate answered, rigid as a board.
"Yes, sir! It is a direct order handed down by Her Highness the Crown Princess herself to our guard. She impressed upon us, with her own words: 'When a viscount bearing my signed invitation arrives from the north, escort him to the Sun Palace without delay under the highest grade of protection. He is the one to whom I sent an invitation I crafted with my own hands.'"
An invitation made by her own hands... and an order like that on top of it?
Stamped with the Emperor's seal, drawn up on official imperial stationery, her own signature tucked away small in the corner.
So that thing was never an imperial invitation from the start. It was Ophelia's trap.
Ah, I should have realized it the moment I saw there was no 'regrets' box to check.
Grrrrumble— BOOM!
The massive steel gates ground open with a heavy, grating roar.
The moment they parted, dozens of knights in silver plate armor of the Imperial Guard swarmed around the carriage as if they'd been waiting, falling into precise formation.
"By command of Her Highness the Crown Princess, we shall escort you safely to the palace!!"
The moment the scarred, middle-aged knight commander bellowed the words, every eye on the street — every citizen of the Capital — snapped toward us.
"My... what's with that carriage? Is there some event going on today?"
"Shh, that's the Crown Princess's precious guest. You know, the viscount who wiped out all the slavers in the north and rescued Her Highness."
"I heard it's not that at all — apparently he's the Crown Princess's secret fiancé."
"What? Then those beauties riding in the carriage with him are his concubines? Make it make sense, will you?"
Under the flood of blatant stares and murmurs pouring in through the window, I buried my face in both hands.
"C-concubines?! Master. I'm your official wife, right? Right?"
"My my~ this girl wouldn't mind being Darling's beloved concubine at all, you know? ♡"
Ophelia... what on earth have you set in motion...
Under the extraordinary escort of the Imperial Guard, the carriage finally rolled to a stop.
"Viscount Ascalon. His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness the Crown Princess await you in the audience chamber."
At the head steward's courteous voice, I opened the carriage door and stepped down.
What filled my vision was the overwhelming grandeur of the Sun Palace, ornate and glittering in gold.
The center of the continent, the heart of the Empire. True to its name, the entire building blazed like an enormous sun pulled down from the sky and planted upon the earth.
Even craning my neck back all the way, I couldn't take in its soaring height in a single glance. Marble pillars the size of hewn mountainsides marched in rows, and the colossal golden dome crowning the summit threw back the cascade of sunlight in dazzling arcs.
A building designed to proclaim to all the world just how immense the Empire's power and wealth truly were.
"Wow—"
"Shut your mouth, Vivian. You're about to start drooling."
"Th-this girl was merely awestruck by this magnificent sight, I'll have you know!"
Vivian hastily wiped the thin line of drool gathering at the corner of her mouth.
Inside, the Sun Palace was even more surreal than its exterior. The floor was laid with exquisitely polished obsidian, broad and mirror-bright, and dozens of golden chandeliers — each the size of a small carriage — hung from the ceiling, making the palace's interior glow even brighter than the world outside.
As we walked the vast corridor, the enormous bas-reliefs carved into the walls on either side seized my gaze. Surrender ceremonies of foreign kings, subjugated demi-humans of races crushed and forcibly absorbed into the Empire — all rendered in gleaming gold and silver, bowing low.
Alice's footsteps, trailing behind me, fell silent for a moment.
She had stopped right in front of the centermost relief — the figure of a rabbit beastfolk, kneeling with a collar around its neck.
"Alice."
"...It's nothing, Master."
Alice resumed walking. Her upright rabbit ears lay pressed completely flat against her head.
So the Empire carved this into its walls and calls it a source of pride.
"We have arrived."
At the corridor's end, where a red silk carpet began, a door wreathed in gold stood shut fast. The head steward took hold of the handle, drew a deep breath, and called out in a great voice.
"Jerome Ascalon, Lord of Ascalon and Viscount! He comes to grant audience to the Sun of the Empire!!"
The massive doors slowly swung open to either side.
***
At the far end of the expansive audience chamber, atop the raised dais, sat the Empire's foremost man with his legs elegantly crossed.
The Emperor — Calix Rodenberg.
And beside him stood Ophelia, draped in an ornate tiara and gown, hands clasped shyly before her, watching me with a smile of quiet relief.
She's grown up exactly the way she was as a child, hasn't she. Ophelia.
I walked slowly along the red carpet, knelt on one knee at the base of the dais, and bowed my head. Alice and Vivian, who had followed warily behind me, began to bow as well.
"Jerome Ascalon, Lord of Ascalon, greets the Eternal Sun of the Empire."
"Ascalon. Raise your head. I owe you a great deal, so there's no need to stand on quite so much ceremony."
When I slowly lifted my head, Calix was looking down at me with a smile of profound benevolence.
How many people, deceived by that smile, have simply... vanished?
"Not at all, Your Majesty. How could I possibly fail to show proper respect before the Sun of the Empire?"
At that, Calix began to laugh openly, as if I had passed some kind of test.
Of course, he wasn't laughing out of any genuine pleasure.
Calix Rodenberg was a man who could wring political use out of even the act of breathing. Summoning me here alone, too, was surely part of some scheme.
"Yes, yes. How have you been faring? I hear you've recently bagged yourself a dragon — and one on the very cusp of adulthood, no less. Without even mobilizing the Imperial Army. Did you conduct some large-scale extermination campaign of your own?"
Ugh... he's been needling old sore spots since way back, hasn't he.
I didn't know the Crown's eyes reached all the way into the farthest corners of the north.
"No, Your Majesty. Hunters roaming the area discovered a lair, and upon investigating it, we found the dragon already dead. We are doing our utmost to determine the full circumstances."
"Heh heh... found a dragon already dead, did you. What a staggering coincidence that would be. You picked up a carcass with no Dragon Jade in it — and yet the scales and horns were all intact, hmm? You do seem to have luck on your side."
He clearly doesn't believe a word I'm saying.
Then again, I wouldn't believe it either, in his position.
A penniless viscount from the frigid north suddenly stumbles upon a dragon's corpse? With the Dragon Jade already removed, and every byproduct left untouched?
Any reasonable ruler would assume I was hiding a blade under the table. That much was only natural.
Still, come on... I'm genuinely the victim here.
"The reason I summoned you here, as it happens... concerns my daughter standing there — Ophelia."
At the abrupt change of subject, my gaze turned naturally toward Ophelia.
She flinched, startled, and dropped her eyes to the floor.
"Has something happened concerning Her Highness the Crown Princess?"
"Indeed. A matter of very grave concern."
The Emperor rose slowly from his seat and, hands clasped behind his back, descended one step from the dais.
"You are well aware that Ophelia was born bearing an immense reservoir of holy power. Twelve years ago, that very power saw her kidnapped by the rebels — a miracle, really, that you dispatched those slavers and saved her when you did."
That Ophelia possessed a colossal wellspring of holy power was something every citizen of the Empire likely knew.
Ever since the kidnapping, she had been hailed as the 'Saintess of the Empire.'
"But of late... that holy power has begun devouring Ophelia herself. The uncontrollable power rages out of control within her body, fevers wrack her — and a few days ago, she collapsed entirely."
"...It was that serious?"
Worried, I started to turn and steal a glance at Ophelia's complexion — and our eyes met. She flashed an awkward, sheepish smile and gave the tiniest little wave of her hand.
"Have you been unable to find a remedy?"
Ah, so that's it. He wants me to go search for a solution. If that's all...
"No — we have found a method. The continual release and expenditure of her holy power until her vessel grows large enough to contain it. In other words, she must train ceaselessly, channeling her power in the harshest of environments, learning to control it under relentless strain."
Then just have her train here, in the Capital. Why on earth would you need me specifically...
Wait. No. Following this thread of conversation...
It can't be.
"And so, Ascalon—"
Calix's eyes flashed, sharp and dangerous.
"Take Ophelia with you to your domain. To the north."