The Princesses of the Orphanage (1)
About a month had passed since the agreement at Gibraltar Canyon. His mother was on the verge of giving birth. Noir was running drills in the training grounds as usual. Letar often came to watch, passing the time by cheering on Ethan as he ran alongside Noir.
It was the repetition of everyday life. The only peculiarities were two things: first, his father occasionally led physical training sessions himself. Grey had asked him to "build up his body."
—I'm going to strip Father and take photos. Then sell them.
To succeed in rebellion or treason, they'd have to sell whatever they could, even their bodies, he'd pleaded.
—We'll start with ordinary photos. Then, for the "big spenders," ones with just pants on and the upper body bare.
Father had seemed reluctant, but Grey had convinced him.
—Once they see Father's photobook, the king will explode in rage. Especially the last page, with a photo of him and Mother together.
—I'll give it a shot.
Father's treason burned with deep anger and hatred toward the incompetent king.
—Any other photos are optional, but the one with your mother has to be included, no question.
Some might call it petty and small-minded. But sitting idle until the day of rebellion would be strange too.
—Nothing shows we're still living happily like this.
Grey had decided to sell his father's happiness through a photobook. Proof that the golden couple was thriving. It would spread not just through the kingdom but to the Empire as well. Sure, some imperials harbored long-standing grudges against Gibraltar, but others would envy them. In turn, it would greatly influence the shifting relations between the kingdom and empire.
After all, Carmen Queen and the emperor were already working behind the scenes to prepare a ceasefire.
"Young master. The newspaper has arrived today as well."
"Mm."
Grey unfolded yesterday's edition of the Empire Daily that Robert Seville had placed on the table. Fresh, uncrumpled, sealed in an envelope without a drop of moisture.
"Good grief. The Empire, really. So many girls going missing. Tsk tsk."
"...Any among them you might know?"
"No?"
The back page featured "Searching for Children" with front-facing photos of various girls and their details listed.
Photos and personal details of numerous missing girls.
"Tragic. Robert. Have you seen the front page, by chance?"
"No. I was told just to bring the envelope."
"Take a look."
Grey held up the front page and pointed to the bold headline for Robert.
"Imperial tongue, Robert. I don't know it."
"With all those imperial POWs from your homeland, you think I wouldn't? Knowing the imperial language isn't treason."
"In the capital, it would be."
"This is Gibraltar."
"...[Admiral Hailredin: 'My body moved first. I will gladly accept punishment.]"
"Right. You read it perfectly."
Grey flipped the first page. Dense text over images, the ink's printed scent sharp from magitech.
"You can read all that?"
"Roughly."
"What's it say? Who's this Hailredin?"
"The Empire's naval command supreme commander. Also called admiral."
Commoner-born. Age 44.
"Skill-wise, intermediate knight level, but his naval command is master-tier, earning him general."
"For him to take responsibility...?"
"He saved kingdom folk. Jumped into the sea after seeing a shipwrecked vessel from pirates."
"Er, uh..."
"Yeah. An imperial saved kingdom people. This is from three days ago."
Grey opened his scrapbook of clipped pages.
"Kingdom trade ship captured by pirates, imperial forces wiped them out. Pirates self-destructed at the end, and Admiral Hailredin dove in to rescue a kingdom noble lady."
"..."
"Seems coincidental at first glance, but I like conspiracy theories."
Grey flipped through the clippings.
[How long must the war with the Kingdom continue?]
[On the Benefits of Black Tea: Is Kingdom Blend the Best?]
[We Must Not Hand a Bloodied Sword to Future Generations]
"...What?"
"Columns from the delivered papers this month. Public opinion from pundits."
"......??"
Robert tilted his head.
"Young master. Sorry. The answer?"
"I thought you'd figure it out."
"No, I, I get the gist! I've been by your side watching and listening!"
Robert huffed briefly.
"I know the Empire's been building this atmosphere for reconciliation and ceasefire for a month. But this sea incident's just coincidence, right?"
"You're still too kind-hearted."
"...This is staged? Building reconciliation mood, then this dramatic show?"
"The parties involved probably don't know. In such plays, leads who don't know the backstory make it more dramatic."
Robert grimaced in shock, horror, and disillusionment with humanity.
"Robert. This is just my guess, so don't spread it."
"Of course."
"The pirates in the southern strait? Empire's 2nd Fleet."
"......Pardon?"
"Guess, just a guess."
Guess in writing, spoiler in reading.
They were the Empire's regular 2nd Fleet, disguised as pirates.
"Want a prophecy? What'll be on tomorrow's Empire Daily front page."
"Just tell me. Does your prediction ever miss? Especially with the Empire's sneaky schemes... ahem."
Robert glanced slyly. At Grey, then at Mente Knight silently sipping tea at the side table.
"Mente. Say something."
"Say what? Delivering the paper's enough for me. And that's not my role."
Mente shrugged, pointing to the wall of weapons.
"Teaching weapon techniques you want to learn. Nothing else."
"Urgh..."
Mente had officially joined the Gibraltar Knights as Grey's martial arts mentor.
"This political intrigue? Robert should learn it. He's your right arm, right?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"Knight. Guess right, and I'll give you tomorrow off."
"!!"
Robert's face lit up; he tore at his hair, thinking hard.
"...Perhaps."
His answer:
"That lady's from southern coastal nobility?"
"Asking for a hint? Yes."
"Then, they'll formally invite and hold a party."
"Good try. Wrong."
"......Ah."
"That's at least a week out."
Spoiler-level foresight.
"The emperor's statement. Minimal reprimand for the admiral, showing merciful benevolence, plus a kingdom-friendly declaration."
The party would follow, after the kingdom formally invited the admiral.
"All prelude to next month's 'Grand Accord.'"
Grand Accord.
"The emperor coming to the kingdom himself for peace."
Midnight. Thick clouds hid even the moon in darkness.
"Nice weather."
Grey arrived at Gate 1 of Gibraltar Canyon with a man in a deep-hooded black robe.
"As mentioned, all eyes are on the south."
National accords don't happen in a flash.
"The romance between Admiral Hailredin and Lady Seirene. Leading to the emperor's kingdom visit. The ceasefire blueprint for both nations' future is already sketched."
After backchannel negotiations, they shake hands like it's their first meeting, declare a grand decision on the spot.
"Seirene Territory will open. Permitted imperials will cross the sea for tourism or trade."
But no one knows.
"That Gibraltar would open its canyon gates to imperials. Not in their wildest dreams."
With eyes on the southern strait, the real talks happened here in Gibraltar Canyon.
"Opening."
Creak.
The canyon gate opened. Gate 1 swung wide, and a group waiting just outside entered.
"Hello~~~~!!"
A cheerful voice shattered the night, white hair fluttering—Erwin Iferia, chairwoman, entered.
"An honor to meet again, Chairwoman Iferia."
"Oh? So stiff."
"I'm the interpreter, after all."
Minimal entourage. Grey brought one robed man; Erwin, two men behind.
"I speak kingdom tongue?"
"For clear intent. Forgive us. You brought one too."
"Fair. This is ours. Don't try funny business, or it'll be no fun?"
"Yes."
Beside her, a brown-haired, bespectacled youth stared at the ground sullenly. Likely a kingdom defector to the Empire.
The chairwoman left out escorts on purpose, but that gait screams drill-march soldier.
Smart but blocked by status, now an imperial military clerk?
"Urgh. Can we really trust that kid?"
The hulking man beside her stepped forward.
"He's a child."
"Genius, I tell you."
"I don't buy that."
"Think of him like that one."
"...Tch. Tricky bastard to deal with."
Imperial black suit straining against bursting muscles.
"Lord Claydoll Marquis, I presume."
"You know me?"
"Three years ago, you rampaged through the fortress at night. Helmet hid it then."
"So? Not told by the robed one behind you?"
Claydoll growled fiercely, glaring at the robed man close behind Grey.
"Hiding's useless. Chairwoman. Step aside. That one's—"
"Baldy."
"!!"
The man shed robe and spoke imperial.
"Tell him I'm glad to meet him. Grey."
Grey's father spoke kingdom tongue, not imperial.
"Sorry. Father's all he knows."
"...Ha, haha."
Claydoll stroked his gleaming bald head in the dark, thick beard below.
"Can't just off him."
"Baldy Claydoll."
"Hey, Gibraltar spawn. Your father's clueless on manners?"
"Baldy Claydoll."
"...Sigh."
Erwin sighed, pulling something from her bosom.
"Sorry. This beats interpreter."
"Translation magitech?"
"Oh, in the papers?"
"Papers aren't the only source."
A palm-sized hemispherical mana stone glowed.
"Ah. Can you hear, Margrave Gibraltar?"
As Erwin spoke, it sparkled, fluent kingdom tongue flowing.
"Everything from now translates to kingdom speech. Any issue?"
"No... issue."
Crimson Gibraltar nodded calmly.
"Ha! The bumpkin margrave's awed by our tech."
"Baldy."
"...Hey. Explain that your kingdom speech translates to our imperial too?"
"Baldy."
"......You'll go bald in old age too."
"Sorry, no Gibraltar's bald from founder on."
Father smirked, stepping beside Grey.
"Intros enough. To business."
Father breathed deep.
"With Queen Carmen deciding peace with Empire, Gibraltar must change. We'll open the canyon gates."
"Yay!"
Erwin threw arms up in cheer.
"I opened the canyon gates! See? Fighting and blood won't open hearts!"
"Ahem. Not quite..."
"Thanks, margrave!"
Erwin beamed, eyeing father up and down.
"For our healthy, bright, peaceful future, let's keep working together!"
"...Grey. Translating right?"
Father ignored her, asking Grey.
"Did I mishear?"
"Merchant talk. Starting with selling your photobook empire-wide, deepening Gibraltar-Iferia ties."
"Eek, spoiling it already."
Erwin pouted childishly.
"Say that, and my honey trap cheap-contract plan's ruined!"
"Sorry. I plan to sell your looks, Father, not your heart."
Truth was, he did. But who sells if Father won't?
"Oh? So I win the bet? You said you'd fall for him at first sight."
"But I did."
"Tell Father it's rational—as model and product."
"Still fell, right?"
"Sigh. Fine. Couldn't pass him up. If imperial, he'd be our company face. Labels on every package."
"..."
Father went silent, not grasping yet.
Soon enough.
When imperial factory goods arrive, his photo on tomato sauce jars.
"So, photos boost product value with my face?"
"Yes. Don't worry, Father. Worst, some curse you, stab with knife, burn effigy. That's it."
"Kuhahahahaha—!!"
Claydoll's booming laugh echoed through the canyon.
"Fine son you raised!! Gibraltar Margrave!!"
"...Regrettable, but results will tell if the crop's good."
Father clapped Grey's shoulder.
"At least my son's no baldy."
"You little..."
"Sigh. Grey. Faster talking to you."
Erwin shook head in half-defeat, turning to Grey.
"Got the letter? Tucked with papers."
"Yes. Secured, reviewed. Morgania cleared too."
"Good, then..."
Erwin clasped hands eagerly.
"On piloting imperial academy methods at Gibraltar margraviate's orphanage, and support plans—shall we discuss seriously?"
"First, a question."
"What?"
"Grateful for funding, but..."
Grey pointed to a clipped back page.
"...For the 'branch academy' disguised as orphanage pilot, did the kids' list have to come like this?"
List of girls only for the orphanage branch academy.
"Security, you know. Thought you'd catch on."
"Parents' permission?"
"Hmm, I'm guardian?"
Some truly missing, others under Iferia protection.
"Fine. Then why girls only?"
"..."
"And."
Grey pulled today's final page.
"Who is this suspiciously chairwoman-like girl?"
Pointing to the white-haired girl with sky-blue and purple eyes.
"Who? Well."
Erwin smiled brightly.
"All those girls? Beautiful princesses born in our Empire~"
Her gaze on Grey:
"What do you think? Adorable, right? Want to raise them? Hmm?"
Desperate, somehow.