The Kept Husband Doesn't Lift a Finger
Whoooosh—!
The knife-edged northern wind lashed Kyle's cheeks without mercy.
"Ghk—! Khhak…!"
Every time the horse jolted beneath him, a groan tore from his throat. The wound the Death Taurus had carved into him was deep. He'd sealed the flesh with potions, but three days of forced marching through a blizzard had torn it open again.
Kyle ground his teeth as he thought of the man who'd put him in this state—Ian.
The jewel box the Imperial Princess had pressed into his hands had been stripped bare by the miserly bastards of the Magic Tower. The warp gate their fees had bought him only reached the farthest edge of the Empire. With not a single coin left for travel, he'd used the authority of the Knight Commander to seize a military mount by force.
The only way to the main castle was to ride through the snowfields himself.
Three days of driving a body that hadn't even properly recovered through the blizzard. Running without rest had blurred Kyle's vision. He felt ready to pitch from the saddle at any moment, but a twisted, spiteful will alone kept him upright.
Ian von Clemens…! Every scrap of this humiliation is your fault!
He clung to the belief that he had only lost to the Death Taurus because of bad luck or a bad matchup.
Did you really think you could crawl into some northern hole and be safe? I'll drag you back under Her Highness the Princess's orders if I have to. You'll pay dearly for daring to put me through this.
Neeeigh—!
After what felt like an eternity of riding, the northern main castle loomed through the merciless blizzard, imposing and severe.
"Hah… hah… I made it…!"
Relief flooded Kyle's face—and in that exact moment,
Thud—!
The horse that had been driven past its limit collapsed the instant they arrived. Kyle was flung from the saddle and tumbled wretchedly across the snow.
"Gyaaah!"
The impact slammed into his half-healed wounds and wrenched a scream from him. When he finally forced his head up through the pain, dozens of elite northern knights who had been guarding the gates already had him surrounded.
"Who the hell is making a racket in front of His Grace the Grand Duke's castle?!"
Under the northern knights' murderous shouts, Kyle staggered to his feet. He pulled the crumpled Imperial Knight Commander's identification from his coat and bellowed,
"How dare you! I am Kyle von Alberto, First Sword of the Empire and Commander of the Imperial Knights! I carry Her Highness the Imperial Princess's strict orders for the Grand Duke—open this gate at once!"
In the Imperial Palace, that name would have put every knee to the floor. The northern knights' reaction was ice-cold. They looked him up and down, then snorted.
"An Imperial Palace dog dares open its snout so freely out here?"
"The only law that holds here is His Grace the Grand Duke's word. Thinking a princess's 'orders' mean anything—looks like the blizzard froze your brain solid."
"…You lowborn frontier dogs!!"
Shame scorched Kyle's face. That backwater yokels would dare insult the Empire's Knight Commander—he could not contain his rage and reached for his sword.
"Ghk…!"
A northern knight who had already slipped behind him smashed the back of Kyle's knees with a still-sheathed blade. Kyle's legs buckled and he slammed face-first into the ground; in the next breath, dozens of spear points were leveled at his throat.
"Insolent bastard. You dare reach for a weapon inside His Grace's castle without permission?"
One of the knights swiftly stripped the sword from Kyle's hip. Disarmed and bound, Kyle glared up with murder in his eyes.
"L-let me go! Don't you touch my sword, you ignorant country dogs—!!"
"Shut it. Unauthorized intruders go straight to the underground cells!"
Kyle struggled, but it was useless. Half-broken and drained of stamina, he had no hope of matching the elite northern knights. With both arms wrenched behind him, he was dragged through the gates like a common criminal.
At the same time. The northern main castle, top-floor guest suite.
"Ahh, delicious. This house really knows how to make macarons."
It had already been three days since I arrived in the North. Inside a room warmed by heating magic, I sprawled across a plush carpet and savored the sweet confections. Fresh macarons from the North's finest chefs sat on the table beside a pot of steaming black tea.
Back at the Imperial Palace, I'd have been buried under a mountain of paperwork at this hour, skipping lunch entirely.
The gratitude was almost overwhelming.
Carla had left at dawn on the pretext of a territory patrol and still hadn't returned. She'd claimed she'd found the backers of the assassins who'd ambushed the carriage last time, and with that look in her eye she was almost certainly out slaughtering rather than patrolling.
Knock, knock—.
A polite voice accompanied the knock.
"Your Grace the Consort. This is Knight Commander Hector. Forgive the interruption of your rest, but may I have a moment?"
"Ah, come in."
At my easy reply, Hector carefully opened the door and bowed deeply.
"What is it? If it's some complicated stack of approval documents, leave them on Her Grace the Grand Duchess's desk, not mine. We clearly agreed yesterday that I don't do work…"
"Never, my lord! Who would dare dump such menial tasks on Your Grace the Consort?!"
Hector answered in a rush.
"The matter is this: just now, some lunatic threw a tantrum outside the main gate and has been detained. Her Grace ordered me to safeguard Your Grace's peace, so I was about to handle him myself, but…"
He paused and carefully gauged my reaction.
"He claimed to be from the Empire, so I thought it best to report first."
"Who is he?"
"He was barking that he was Kyle von Alberto. He made such a scene outside the gate without knowing his place that we confiscated his weapon on the spot and tossed him in the underground cells."
I set down the macaron I'd been holding and thought for a moment.
Kyle, you mad bastard. You already tracked me all the way out here?
It hadn't even been a week since I emptied the central vault and left. With the capital's defensive barrier broken and the nation starting to turn upside down, the fire under their feet must have been real enough. Even so, I hadn't expected him this soon.
The princess had probably realized the hole I'd left, cried her eyes out, and shoved him out the door. He wouldn't have had Imperial support for a comfortable journey, either—I had to give him credit for the sheer spite that had dragged him this far.
"He is a man who disturbs Your Grace's peace. Shall I take his head at once and pack it for delivery to the Imperial Palace?"
I snorted at Hector's deadly serious question.
Simply taking his head here would be convenient, sure—but then those people would never learn how well I was eating and living. I wanted the ones who'd driven me out as a useless man to see, crystal clear, exactly how I was being treated in the North.
"No. No need to take his head."
I took a sip of tea and went on.
"Well, he is a former coworker, after all. He's come all this way—might as well see his face for a minute. Bring him to my room."
"……!!"
Hector's remaining eye went wide at the unexpected answer.
He means to sever even those trivial past ties with his own hands! As expected of the Consort!
Overcome with emotion, Hector bowed to the waist.
"As Your Grace wills! I shall haul that dog to your feet at once!"
He shot out of the room. I popped the last macaron into my mouth and waited for the delightful reunion to come.
Bang—!
Not long after, the reception room door burst open and two massive northern knights dragged Kyle in by the arms.
"Kneel."
"Ghk…! L-let go of me…!"
A kick to the back of his legs dropped him to his knees. The journey north had clearly been brutal; exhaustion was carved into every line of his face. The moment he laid eyes on me, that face twisted.
I looked down at him from the sofa.
"You look like absolute hell, Kyle."
"I… Ian…!!"
Kyle glared up with bloodshot eyes. His gaze flicked over the finest silk robe I was wearing, the rare sweets on the table, and Knight Commander Hector standing at my side like a bodyguard. His eyes began to tremble with a mix of outrage and disbelief.
"You… you bastard…! You abandoned Her Highness the Princess, plunged the Empire into crisis—and now you're living in luxury here?!"
He went on at the top of his lungs, veins standing out in his neck.
"Her Highness Elena has decided to show mercy to a wretch like you one more time! Pack your things and return to the Empire at once! Kneel at Her Highness's feet and clear the backlog of work you left behind! Do that, and we'll spare your life!"
I let out a dry laugh at the pure nonsense of a man who still hadn't grasped the situation.
"Pfft… Why would I go back there? I got fired."
"Wh—what…"
"You said my very existence was the problem. That a coward who couldn't swing a sword or handle mana was dragging down the Imperial family's dignity, right? So I finished a clean handover and left. And now it's 'mercy'?"
I tapped the arm of the sofa lightly as I looked at him.
"I'm going to spend the rest of my life here as the Northern Grand Duchess's kept husband without lifting a single finger. Oh, and from now on, whether beast hordes come pouring in or rebels invade—handle it yourselves. Surely the genius Knight Commander can manage that much busywork alone?"
At my mockery, Kyle's face contorted past anger until the veins stood out in ugly ridges.
"You… you lowborn pen-pusher! How dare you mock me?!"
The last thread of reason snapped. Kyle kicked off the floor and surged upright. The blue Aura he unleashed flung the knights holding him aside. Aura wrapped around his bare fists as he charged me with murder in his eyes.
"Die, Iaaaaaan—!!"
Driving a wrecked body into a desperate rush made the form a mess, but for the Empire's former Knight Commander, the Aura itself was still impressive enough.
I didn't bother dodging or calling my shadows. I simply sat there and watched him come.
Because—
"How dare you stretch those filthy hands in front of His Grace?!"
—there was no need for me to lift a finger. A very reliable man was already standing at my side.
Before Kyle's Aura-wrapped fist could reach me, Knight Commander Hector raised his greatsword and intercepted the blow.
"Ghk—gyaaaaah!!"
The fist that had been flying at me was crushed flat against the broad flat of Hector's greatsword. Kyle was hurled back and crumpled to the floor; Hector's blade immediately pressed to his throat.
"Do not move. One more foolish act and I take your head on the spot."
Pinned by the edge biting into his neck, Kyle shouted in disbelief.
"I-impossible…! I, the Empire's First Sword… to a single blow from some northern country dog…! And why is that useless Ian not even blinking…!"
I waved a hand as if the whole thing bored me.
"That's enough. Clear him out. I think we've shown him everything he needed to see."
Hector was just about to haul Kyle away when—
KRAAAASH—!!!!
The entire wall by the reception room door exploded in a roar of debris.
"……!"
Carla stepped through the wreckage, boots crushing the rubble. Someone's blood was liberally spattered across her clothes—traces of the "territory patrol" she'd left for at dawn.
"I was wondering what vermin was making a racket in my husband's chambers."
Her eyes locked onto Kyle. The red Aura pouring from her body clamped around his throat.
"Kh… khhk…"
She closed the distance in a heartbeat, lifted her foot, and stamped down on the back of his head.
"A thing like you dares order my husband around with Aura?"
She pressed harder. A wet crack sounded as his skull compressed under her boot.
"Gyaaaaaah!!"
Ignoring the scream entirely, Carla spoke through pure fury.
"Crawl back to the Empire and tell the princess clearly. If she bothers my husband again, I will bring the northern army south that very day and reduce the Imperial Palace to ash."
She lifted her foot and ordered Hector,
"Throw this trash outside at once."
"As you command, Your Grace!"
Hector dragged Kyle out. Peace returned to the reception room.
"That's the last eyesore cleared away."
Muttering to herself, Carla strode over, scooped me straight off the sofa, and lifted me into her arms.
"Uh—Your Grace? What are you suddenly—"
"If we're holding the ceremony in three days, even starting preparations now leaves us short on time. First we need to get your formalwear measured."
"I-I'll walk on my own two feet when we go. Please put me down."
"Quiet. You agreed you would only breathe at my side. Walking would only tire you, so I am carrying you myself."
That is what I asked for, but this picture is still mortifying no matter how you look at it.
I kept my head down in embarrassment against her chest as she carried me with effortless ease. Knights and servants we passed stared in open alarm, but Carla paid them no mind at all.
I thought marrying a capable wife who handled all the annoying work would mean I could just sit back and live the good life…
A distinctly ominous feeling settled over me that this was going to be far more exhausting than pushing a pen at the Imperial Palace.