Delivering the Proposal
Evelyn Roadmia stared down at her teacup.
The tea inside was perfectly still.
So was her father's hand.
Adrion Roadmia.
Head of the Roadmia Family.
Outside the Demon Realm, he was called a duke; within it, he was the man who held both blood and the ledgers in his grasp.
He sat directly across from Evelyn.
"You are slow to answer," Adrion remarked dryly.
"I hear you answer much faster in His Majesty's office."
Evelyn did not raise her eyes.
"In the office, the documents requiring answers are clear."
"The question before you now is equally clear."
Adrion's voice was low.
Because it was so calm, Evelyn knew he was furious.
"The name of Roadmia is missing."
The candlelight reflected on the rim of her teacup flickered slightly.
"The other noble families are already moving. Collateral daughters, direct heirs, guarantors, gifts, oaths of fealty... Even the lowliest families have laid whatever small mountain pass they control upon His Majesty's table."
As expected of one of the great families representing the Demon Realm, their reach was formidable.
They even had spies planted inside the Black King Castle.
"Yet, Roadmia remains silent."
Evelyn remained silent.
Adrion's eyes narrowed.
"Did you block it?"
"No."
"Then are you waiting? Waiting for His Majesty's petty pity toward you?"
This time, her response was delayed.
Adrion set his teacup down, as if that silence was answer enough.
Clink.
The small sound echoed unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
"Evelyn."
"Yes, Father."
Adrion said nothing more.
Simply calling her name was enough to convey his intent.
Evelyn kept her eyes fixed on her teacup.
A long silence stretched between them.
Wax dripped slowly down the candle.
Evelyn clasped her gloved hands together.
"Have you forgotten how to protect the family?" Adrion asked.
"We are not a family that offers our tribute late. A late offering is not loyalty; it is damage control. Since you are already by His Majesty's side, we should have submitted your name first."
Evelyn slowly raised her head.
"Do you mean to put my name on the list of marriage candidates?"
"I do not mean to sell you."
"It is merely a different way of phrasing it."
"It is a way to preserve the family."
You mean you will preserve the family by selling me.
Evelyn swallowed the retort.
Adrion's voice dropped a fraction lower.
"His Majesty is pretending to choose a bride while eyeing the noble families' storehouses. He is looking at our trade routes, our smithies, and our measurement rights. Silence before such a man is dangerous."
"I know."
"You do not."
Adrion's words cut through the air.
"If you truly understood, you would have put Roadmia's name forward first."
He leaned forward slightly.
"If we offered you first, His Majesty would at least recognize one thing: that Roadmia offered its most precious treasure before all else."
Evelyn listened in silence.
"Even when a noble family keeps its head down, it must show what it is willing to surrender. Only then can we avoid being devoured whole."
"So, Father," Evelyn said, "you intend to use me as a shield."
Adrion did not deny it.
"There are times when a daughter of the family must become its shield."
"And its sword as well."
"Indeed."
"Then you are mistaken this time."
Adrion's brow twitched imperceptibly.
Evelyn kept her eyes locked on her teacup.
"You do not know His Majesty, Father."
"I do not know the Demon King?"
"Yes."
Evelyn's voice was low and clear.
"Not even a fraction of him."
The air in the room grew cold.
Adrion's fingers froze on the handle of his teacup.
"Evelyn."
"His Majesty is far more cunning and dangerous than he appears."
She still stared only at her tea.
"He is not the type to close a ledger just because he was given a woman. Nor will he overlook a storehouse because a daughter was offered. Instead, he will ask..."
She paused.
"...why we put this woman forward first."
Adrion remained silent.
"And what we are hiding behind her."
Evelyn took a slow, deep breath.
"The moment Roadmia puts my name forward first, His Majesty will not look at me. He will look at the ledgers behind me. He will look at the roads behind me, the storehouses behind me, and the smithies behind me."
Even though she had taken a deep breath, her breathing was gradually growing ragged.
"So you are saying we should hide?"
"No."
For the first time, Evelyn looked her father straight in the eye.
"If we hide, we die."
Adrion's gaze deepened.
"Then what do you propose we do?"
"We must surrender."
"That is no different from what I said."
"It is entirely different."
Evelyn's voice did not waver.
"You wish to offer me to keep the family safe. But I believe that for the family to survive, we must first show His Majesty that we have nothing left to hide."
The lines on Adrion's cheeks deepened.
The corners of his mouth slowly curled upward.
"Are you sure that opinion is for the sake of the family? Or is it for His Majesty?"
"It is for the family."
Her reply was brief.
Adrion's eyes turned cold and flat.
"And that is your choice?"
Evelyn looked down at her teacup.
Her own face was reflected in the cooling tea.
A neat, composed face.
The daughter of Roadmia.
The woman who managed the Demon King's ledgers.
And someone who had already stepped too close to him.
"If you wish to offer me," Evelyn said, "I can only tell you that it is already too late."
Adrion did not reply.
Evelyn kept her eyes fixed on the cup.
"Because I am already written into His Majesty's ledgers."
Belion arrived at the Black King Castle before sunset.
He was exceptionally fast.
Normally, a summoned general would ask for the reason, gather his troops, secure the route, and then set out.
Belion was different.
It was as if he had departed the very instant the order was issued.
The door to the office opened, and the general clad in black armor stepped inside.
He knelt.
"You summoned me, Your Majesty," Belion said.
I looked down at the map spread across my desk.
The red line starting from the Black King Castle ran alongside the supply route of Mordheim,
scraped past the smithy districts of the mid-tier noble families,
wound through the mountain passes surrendered by the lesser families,
brushed against the border markets, passed through the distribution centers of the lower-tier families,
and finally looped back to the Black King Castle.
A full circle around the Demon Realm.
But I had no intention of stopping at just one loop.
"Move the army."
Belion raised his head.
"Who is the target, Your Majesty?"
"There is none."
Silence fell over the office.
Herman stopped his pen, and Barkan stared down at the map.
They all knew.
A military order without a target was far more ominous.
I spoke.
"Do not pillage."
Belion remained silent.
"Do not burn. Do not enter civilian homes. Do not execute anyone. Do not respond to provocations. Do not draw your swords first."
"Then what are we to do?"
It was a good question.
I tapped the line on the map.
"Just pass through."
Belion's eyes flickered slightly.
"Only pass through?"
"No."
I slid the ledger beside me toward him.
"Measure the width of the roads. The depth of the mud. The weight capacity of the bridges, whether carriages can pass, the locations of the storehouses, the scale of the smithies, and the state of the distribution centers. All of it."
Herman let out a quiet gasp.
I continued.
"If they demand a toll, record it. If they reject the Black King Castle's Standard Measurement, or refuse an audit of their storehouses, record that too. Any family whose response to the marriage proposal is ambiguous will be put on the next tour's route."
Belion looked at the map.
"How many times should we loop?"
"Until we receive an answer."
"What kind of answer?"
"One that does not say 'under consideration.'"
I lifted my hand from the map.
"Their granaries. Their trade routes. Their measurements. Their smithies. Their distribution lines. And the real power hidden behind them."
Herman spoke up cautiously.
"Your Majesty."
"Speak."
"The noble families will perceive this as military pressure."
"I told you, we are not attacking."
"Which is precisely why it is more troublesome."
Herman's face was tense.
"If it is not an attack, they have no excuse to block you. If it is not pillaging, they have no grounds to protest. But if an army continues to march through their territories, the families will not be able to endure it."
"I know."
"Is your intention to intimidate them?"
"No," I shook my head. "I am simply trying to get an answer."
Barkan asked,
"What if a family refuses?"
"Record it."
"What if they block the road?"
"Record it and report."
"What if they attack?"
Belion spoke up for the first time.
I looked at him.
"Subdue them."
"Do we kill them?"
"Keep them alive."
A subtle shift flickered in Belion's eyes.
"Is keeping them alive sufficient?"
As expected of a soldier, he was quick to understand.
"Yes," I said. "Dead men cannot speak, but living men can sign."
Seradin handed over a document.
"How shall we name this order?"
"The Road and Measurement Inspection Tour under the Black Kingdom Enrichment Decree."
"Shall we omit its connection to the marriage proposal responses from the official document?"
"Write it down."
Herman looked at me.
I said calmly,
"If you hide it, it is blackmail. If you write it down, it is administration."
The room fell silent once more.
Yes.
I knew it.
It was a play on words.
But the nobles had started it first.
Within limits that do not harm family traditions.
Under mutually amicable consultation.
Under earnest consideration.
If they built doors out of sentences, I only needed to stand before those doors in military boots.
"Your Majesty," Belion bowed his head.
"I shall pass through without drawing blood."
"Rise."
Belion stood.
"Now, go."
His black armor clanked softly.
Just as he turned toward the door, I added,
"Ah, and one more thing."
Belion paused.
"Put a ledger clerk in the lead carriage."
"A ledger clerk, Your Majesty?"
"Yes."
I grinned.
"It will make for an interesting picture if the ledger is the first thing they see. Like the vanguard of an army."
That night, the northern gate of the Black King Castle swung open.
Belion's army marched out in a long line.
No swords were drawn.
No fires were lit.
The supply wagons were loaded with paper before food, and beneath black cloths lay measuring rods, surveying lines, and warehouse audit seals.
It was not a war.
But the nobles of the Demon Realm would soon learn.
That even to a marriage proposal...
...military boots could come to collect the reply.