The Ball at the Palace of the Fortunate King
Manuel I. He was a monarch fortunate enough to be called the Fortunate King, and a conqueror of boundless greed.
The first time Haneul appeared before him, he lost himself completely, as though a heart that had long since stopped had begun beating again.
"Spare no sugar tonight! Use it freely!"
In those days, sugar in Europe was a precious medicine and a luxury, and people went so far as to see blackened, rotting teeth — the mark of a heavy sugar habit — as a badge of wealth.
And watching her eat so demurely at the dinner table, he thought a fairy had come to sit before him.
"Ahh... I truly must have her..."
Then, when she produced her dishware for the first time, he nearly fell out of his chair. After all, the finest tableware Europe had to offer in this era amounted to wood, pottery, and hammered metal.
Seeing porcelain for the first time, he mistook it for white gold. The moment he realized that the dishes alone were worth a fortune, Haneul transformed in his eyes into a windfall from heaven.
In his head, the children were already multiplying — three, four, more by the minute.
Heh heh heh.
His mind thoroughly occupied with indecent imaginings, he grinned and bared his black teeth. All the while, the Haneul across the table was quietly grimacing — and Manuel I was already planning the wedding.
"This, Your Majesty, is called tea."
So this was the tea of the East. It had a dubious, medicinal taste to it, and yet it left him with a strange, unnamable sense of well-being.
"Gah—"
And then his first taste of yokan and chocolate.
Such heavenly food could not possibly exist. If he had his way, he would eat nothing else for the rest of his life.
Of course. An angel has come bearing the food of heaven, just for me!
And according to her explanation, these delicacies were prized even in the East. He wanted exclusive trading rights — and when the other side showed signs of refusal, his temper flared a little.
They have set foot in my domain. It should all be mine by right. And they dare say no?
Had it been anyone else, he would have had them thrown out or dumped into some gutter. But with her, he simply could not.
"We shall hold a ball!"
Portugal in this era was a nation that lived under the strictest Catholic discipline. Extravagant affairs like balls were outright taboo.
And so masked balls, where faces stayed hidden, were held constantly instead.
I should have the treaty drawn up in advance, while everyone is enjoying the party.
The treaty was the bureaucrats' work anyway. And he intended to slip the marriage into it. She was, after all, queen of her own nation — what could be better than a marriage alliance?
And if she refuses... well, why not simply enslave them all and take her for myself?
"Ugh... Mose, go in my place..."
"I hate such gatherings too. The food is so sweet I feel like I'll throw up..."
A ball, of all things. They even sent over a dress. Absolutely insane...
"Haah..."
Knock knock knock.
"Ugh, fine. They said a dress arrived, so I brought it."
Ah... They don't even know my measurements and they're sending clothes? Why not just say I should wear my own and be done with it?
"You look so tired, milady."
"Come here, milady. I'll dress you."
"I can dress myself!"
"No one puts on a gown like this alone. Come here."
"...Fine."
The moment the box opened and I glimpsed that monstrosity of a garment, I surrendered on the spot.
Rustle rustle.
"Ghk—"
"Oh dear?"
"I... I can't... breathe..."
Was this some plot to assassinate me?
"Hmm. I'll need to do some alterations."
"Here?"
"Yes. You'll only wear it once and throw it away, won't you?"
"True."
"Then trust me."
And with that, she boldly began hacking the dress apart.
Snip snip.
"Uh... aren't you cutting off a bit too much?"
"..."
When Mose concentrates, apparently the whole world outside her scissors ceases to exist.
The chest is cinched so tight that half of it's about to pop out anyway — as it is, it's unwearable.
Oh, I see. She's going to cut the back open and leave it bare.
"But why are you cutting it so long?"
"Milady, the little hollow at the end of your backside is simply too pretty to hide!"
She doesn't have eyes in the back of her head — how does she know something even I don't?
"Ah... that won't work, will it?"
"No, it wouldn't. Cutting it like that to show it off would basically mean walking around with your backside hanging out."
It's not like trousers, you know. Slitting the back of a full-length gown so it shows? Good grief.
"You're right... What a shame."
"What's there to be ashamed about! If I showed them that, gold and silver would come pouring in!"
Which would be weird, seeing as nobody's paying me.
"Oh my. So if they paid enough gold, you'd go around without any clothes at all, milady?"
"Excuse me?! What's with that perverted look in your eyes! So disrespectful! And that's not what I meant!"
"Aww~ what a shame."
This girl. If I told her to do it, she'd sell the entire country to get the money, wouldn't she?
"Just get back to sewing!"
"Yes, milady~"
So we attended the ball in our lovingly homemade, hand-stitched alterations and... ugh.
Somebody save me.
"Oh my, oh my."
"That dress! Magnificent."
"My... she isn't even wearing a mask."
Seriously, like zoo animals on display. Though judging by their eyes, even with the masks on everyone knew exactly who was who anyway.
So what if I don't wear one? They only wear masks because they're ashamed of their sins before God.
I am the one who gazes up at the heavens — I have nothing to be ashamed of!
KRR-RUMBLE!
"Good heavens! Thunder, out of nowhere?"
"Strange, isn't it? It isn't even raining."
Yeah, seems I'm the only one up here who should be embarrassed.
The spectacle itself was fine — the smell was the problem. It was absolutely vile. When had these people last bathed? The stench rising from their clothes and bodies, mixed with the perfume they'd clearly doused themselves in to cover it — it was like being dropped into hell by mistake and tortured there.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Yes. Well..."
One look and I knew — Manuel I. Nobody in this room had teeth as impressively, distinctively black as that man's.
Don't caviths hurt terribly when they form?
"Would you care to dance?"
"No. My health is delicate... my apologies."
I. Do not. Want your fingers touching mine. Not even the tips. Honestly! Our own kids covered in coal dust are cleaner than you lot.
"Ahem..."
"Haah..."
"You seem to be struggling?"
"I am."
"Then shall I escort you to your chambers to rest?"
Excuse me? Isn't that exactly like saying "you look tired, let's get a motel room"? Is this man out of his mind?
"..."
"Ahem..."
Only after I glared daggers at him did he finally slink away.
Enduring the advances and leering of countless humans while holding my post for a while, I retreated straight to my room. Any longer and my patience would have exploded and I'd have drawn my revolver.
RIIIIIP. RIIIIIP.
"HRAAAAGH!"
The dress had absorbed the stench so thoroughly that I shredded it to ribbons and threw the pieces out the window.
"Whewww..."
"Wow. Was it really that bad?"
"Yeah. It was only a little while, but you know how many men asked me to come to their bedchambers? Twenty-three."
"How utterly disgraceful..."
Ohh... Mose is angry. She looks about one second away from drawing her revolver and opening fire.
Glad she wasn't there with me.
Then, starting the next day, the negotiations began — and barely after they'd gotten underway, Mose came storming back?
CRASH!
"Goodness? What's wrong?"
She kicked the door open hard enough to take it off its hinges.
"Milady, we're leaving."
"Huh? Not going well? The terms that bad?"
"Yes. Not a chance."
Following last night, she was seething again today, huh?
"What happened?"
"The gall! A mere mortal dared suggest he would take you, milady, home with him?!"
"Uh... uhh..."
Our Mose is a lot more iron-willed than I gave her credit for.
Marriage in this stuffy country? I hate the idea too, for what it's worth.
"We're leaving. I will sink every ship this nation owns."
"Huh?"
How long had the talks even been going? Things were escalating way too fast.
And since the only "luggage" we had was the boxes of gifts we'd brought, we started heading for home — when:
"You may not. Return to the guest quarters."
"Why? We said we'd walk out on our own two feet. We're not exactly asking for a carriage here?"
Suddenly soldiers appeared and blocked our path.
"Letting a guest simply walk away would tarnish His Highness's honor. A carriage will be prepared for you, so kindly wait."
"Hmm..."
This is it. I know this experience well. This falls squarely into the kidnapping-and-unlawful-confinement category.
"Fine."
So we withdrew for the moment.
"Milady? I don't think they intend to let us go."
"Yeah, that's my read too."
"What will you do?"
"Let's head to the gardens first. I think an opportunity is about to present itself?"
It had suddenly occurred to me just now.
"The gardens, milady?"
"Yeah. Let's go look at our poor animal friends for a bit."
"In the middle of all this?"
You. You don't know how terrifying an elephant or a rhinoceros can be, do you? And those thin walls of stacked stone and brick?
Our friends are only behaving themselves. One good shove and the whole thing would come down.
So we ambled leisurely over to the garden. The elephant and rhino were getting along quite nicely?
Pat pat pat.
"Here, guys, try this — it's delicious! And, uh, give me a hand with something."
"Pwooooo~ *snort snort*"
CRUNCH CRUNCH.
Maybe because they're so enormous, they devoured the potatoes I dug out for them in staggering quantities.
"Wow? Just how many potatoes do you carry around with you, milady?"
"These? These are infinite."
"Pardon?"
"I just make these myself."
"Good heavens! The potato was a holy relic all along!"
Huh? What holy relic?
Oh... right. The younger ones these days don't know about my potato-making, do they?
"No, it's just the potatoes you all eat every day?"
"This cannot be..."
She's already disappeared into her own world...
Uh... aren't you writing that down a little too solemnly?
Something deeply bizarre is about to end up in Mose's notebook again, isn't it.
"Alright! Friends, was the potato good?"
"Pwoooo!"
"Then charge straight ahead! That way!"
"PWOOOOO!"
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE.
Today would go down as a monumental day in the history of Portugal.
The Great Animal Jailbreak!
"What are you doing?"
"Pardon?"
"Come on, guys. We're going home too, aren't we?"
"Ah! Yes, milady!"
"Let's go!"
And we tore off after the animals.
WHAM. WHAM. WHAM.
The wall seemed sturdier than I expected, but next to an elephant and a rhinoceros? Might as well be nothing.
CRUNCH — CRASH!
The rhino rammed it, the elephant plowed into it with the steady patience of a mountain, and the wall simply folded. Turns out walls are nothing at all.
Besides, the ground floor wasn't even the palace proper — they'd built some kind of trading exchange there, so moving through it was easy.
"AAAAH! What is that?!"
"The animals have gone mad!"
"Save yourselves!"
Well, fair enough. Seen head-on, an elephant or a rhino really does look gigantic — terrifying, even.
And they're not rampaging, they're escaping, for the record.
It was the humans who were rampaging, actually. Utter chaos, everyone fleeing.
RUMBLE RUMBLE.
"PWAAAAH."
"*Snort snort.*"
With the humans shrieking and stampeding, our animal friends got even more worked up and started tearing the walls down wholesale.
We strolled along behind them at our leisure.
KABOOM. KABOOM.
"Whoa. Is that the outer wall? It's holding up pretty well."
"Let's help!"
"On it!"
Hm? What exactly do you plan to do with human strength?
"This one looks about right?"
"Stop gawking and pull!"
"HYAAAAP!"
So, what happened was: Mose shoved over a tree that had been standing as a pillar, yanked it clean out of the ground, and charged with it like a battering ram?
WHAM! WHAM!
Between the giant beasts and one human's contribution, even the fortress walls came down. I was ready to set off a bomb if they hadn't broken...
Truly, our friends are no different from wild beasts.
CRASH RUMBLE CRASH.
"Whoa! It's down!"
"Let's go!"
"This way, milady!"
Good grief. Yes, let's go! GO!
Still... what dependable friends they are.
"WOOOOHOOOO!"
For no particular reason, we ran whooping along the riverbank. Watching the crowds scatter and shrink into the distance was somehow, inexplicably, fun.
Then we charged for the harbor — but our ship was moored a fair distance out.
"Uh... how do we get to the ship?"
"What is there to think about, milady? Just take anything that floats!"
Ah. She really can't shake her old profession, can she.
"Wh-what?! Who are you people?!"
"Get lost!"
"AAAAAAH!"
We simply climbed aboard a nearby ship, dunked every soul on it into the water, and started hauling the vessel away.
And then, as if our own ship had sensed something amiss, black smoke began billowing ever thicker from its funnels.
HOOOOOOONK!
"Eek! What was that?!"
"Did that sound come from their ship?"
"Why is the black smoke rising like that?"
"Something about this feels ominous..."
As we boarded, I could see the people of the harbor murmuring anxiously among themselves.
Well, from Portugal's perspective, that black smoke probably does look rather foreboding, doesn't it?
Which is why you should settle things peacefully when you have the chance, you little rascals! Before I have to make you listen!