Sell Everything Except Wife and Children (2)
After returning from Seyrene County, a full month had passed. The Empire Daily that arrived at dawn today was a true special edition, carrying news of a historic event.
After a month, the two nations have officially opened each other's ports for trade, sealing a pact of reconciliation.
The kingdom's Seyrene County. The empire's Casablanca. With these two cities now open to each other, both nations could cross the river's lower reaches for commerce.
There would be various procedures to follow, and issues like currency exchange would sort themselves out over time.
"Personally, it's a shame."
"What's a shame this time?"
"Gibraltar should've reaped the full benefits of this opening. What do you think, Sir Robert?"
"Uh, well, even with the port opening, will people really flock there?"
I swung my staff, wrapping the Empire Daily around its tip.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because it was enemy territory until now. Even if the crown prince and the queen consort signed the agreement, old grudges don't vanish overnight."
Resentments between nations don't fade in an instant. Even if Hailredin's death had softened the mood a bit—
"It's a miracle these two ports opened, but who knows how long it'll last."
No one could shout, 'From now on, we'll live in peace!' without tilting their head in doubt.
"Exactly. Still—"
"Young master. That's the wrong form."
Robert picked up his staff and swung it lightly. The newspaper wrapped around his tip fluttered dramatically, while mine drifted to the floor like a leaf in the wind.
"...Tch."
"Young master, you really have no talent for this, do you?"
"It's not a lack of talent. The kingdom's honor guard protocols are just unnecessarily complicated."
Why make it so damn intricate over 500 years?
"Fine. Practice ends here for today."
"Huh? Giving up already?"
"Not giving up. I have other urgent business."
I flicked the fallen newspaper with my staff tip, catching the page with the large photo and holding it up.
"The empire's about to start slathering honey on Gibraltar Canyon."
"Let me see... [Gates of Peace: Without Opening the Gorge, It Means Nothing.] Isn't this just some opinion piece?"
"It's a political commentator's column. A government shill pretending to be an intellectual."
"What we should note is here: the empire's citizens don't truly see the Seirene port opening as real peace talks."
"Well... same for us."
"Then, Sir Robert. Where's the true gate to peace?"
"Obviously—"
Screeech.
The door opened—
"Gibraltar Canyon—!"
"........."
"Ah, correction! Gate 3 in Gibraltar Canyon!"
The maid—Astasia—who burst in with her hand raised high stole Robert's answer.
"Ha...!"
"I agree, young master."
"Really?"
"Yes. Nailed it, right? Heh heh heh."
Robert flashed a thumbs-up at Astasia, who returned it with both hands, grinning ear to ear.
"Then, young master. I'll leave your guard duty to Miss Ellie and step out for a bit."
"What? Me, guarding the young master?"
Astasia planted her hands on her hips, puffing out her cheeks.
"I'm just here to assist him by your side! Saying it like that makes it sound like I could replace Sir Robert! Hmph!"
"Oops. Right. Shall I call another guard?"
"Hmm, if the young master protects me, I'll do my best!"
"Wow, impressive, Miss Ellie."
"It's Astasia!"
"Miss Ellie! Take good care of the young master."
Sir Robert kept thumbs-upping Astasia, then turned to me with a beaming smile.
"Young master! Off to run that errand!"
"Who said anything about an errand—"
"I'll pick up cake for you and Miss Ellie on the way back!"
"........."
I tossed Robert a pouch of gold coins as he headed out; he snatched it mid-stride and left the room.
"Ha."
"Practicing staff techniques?"
"No. Kingdom honor guard drill."
"The one Naria showed you!"
Astasia shut the door tight and pointed to the window overlooking the orphanage grounds.
"Just like that!"
"........."
Outside the orphanage, on the open lot. Naria Geo Nostrum, in maid attire, sparred with Mente Knight—wielding not a wooden sword, but a musket.
"Naria's amazing. Mastering imperial bayonet drill so quickly."
"Imperial bayonet drill is easy."
"It's not that easy!"
Astasia jumped up, indignant, though I hadn't meant to provoke her.
"Handling that's super hard!"
"Teach it to the orphanage kids as standard drill, and they'll master it in a month."
"No way! It takes at least half a year!"
"Half a year... isn't that how long it took Your Highness?"
"Ugh...!"
Astasia's fists trembled.
"Y-you're one to talk! You can't handle guns well either!"
"...As if. I handle them just fine."
This one, that one.
"You'd be shocked seeing me with a musket."
"While failing the kingdom drill over and over."
"That's because the kingdom's protocols are trash-tier complicated. If it were as simple as the empire's, I could master it easy."
"Hmmm, really...?"
Astasia's eyes sparkled as she snatched a spare staff from my desk.
"Then try it! I'll show you just once!"
She wrapped the Empire Daily grandly around the tip and stood in the room's center.
"Huuu—."
A deep breath.
Whoooosh!
With a stern face, Astasia swung the staff. She spun it from right hand to left, stepping forward like a march.
Thud!
"How was it!"
It was brief, but she brimmed with confidence like never before.
"........."
"Can you copy it after one look? Tough, right? No way, huh?"
"Not that."
Copying after one look? Without Naria-level memory, nailing half a year's drill perfectly on first sight was near impossible.
But I'm no novice. I don't know when Astasia started practicing musket forms, but I drilled them for seven years.
'Traitor Grey' learned from whom over those seven years.
This girl right here—the future crown princess—was my teacher.
"See? Too hard, right? Heh, too bad. I was thinking of kissing your cheek if you nailed it first try!"
"Follow my lead."
"Huh?"
"Now."
I grabbed Astasia's wrist and dragged her outside.
"Eh? Young master. What's up?"
"Naria. Lend me the musket for a bit?"
"........."
Mid-spar with Mente, Naria hugged her musket and stepped back as I reached out.
"Not stealing it. Just five minutes."
"...Five minutes?"
"Yes. Five. I'll return it right after."
Naria hesitated, then handed it over reluctantly, like a kid yielding a birthday gift.
"Young master. What's this about? Gonna try bayonet drill?"
"To show how easy imperial protocols are."
"It's not easy!"
"...Aha."
Mente instantly grasped the situation from Astasia's outburst.
"But young master. Did I ever send you the imperial manual?"
"Astasia showed me once. Just now."
"Mente! The young master's dissing imperial forms! Says kingdom ones are hard, but he can copy imperial perfectly first try!"
"Hmm..."
Mente scratched her head and pulled something from her pocket.
"Not actual flag size, but close."
"What's that?"
"Handkerchief with the kingdom's crest."
"........."
A fairly large handkerchief emblazoned with Nostrum's crest.
"Wouldn't bayoneting with the national flag on the tip be desecration, knight?"
"Young master. Is that the priority right now?"
Mente tied the handkerchief to the musket barrel with a knot at the end.
"Might as well make it clear for you."
"Make what clear?"
"Grey Gibraltar, young master—you have no talent for ceremonial drill."
"Do you have to say it so bluntly?"
"It's reality. How long you gonna blame the kingdom's 'filthy complicated' protocols?"
"They are filthy complicated..."
Naria raised her hand.
"Even the current king can't do it."
"........."
"I can. Just follow the manual to the letter."
Naria had demonstrated it flawlessly before.
"Imperial style... well."
"Naria! What's with that look?"
"Nothing. Just... well..."
Her lip curled in obvious amusement.
"Imperial bayonet drill, protocols, and forms are excellent. Unlike the kingdom's, anyone can learn them easily."
"That's the advantage—anyone can do it! Not like the kingdom's pointless complexity, where even the young master still can't get it right!"
"You were mocking me back in the room."
Before a kingdom-empire protocol war erupted, I assumed Astasia's exact stance.
"......Huh?"
Astasia stared, eyes wide.
"Like I said, it's not lack of talent for staff work. I'd pass honor guard trials fine."
I lightly snapped my wrist, spinning the musket grandly.
"The kingdom did waste 500 years complicating the moves."
Using wrist snaps to keep spinning, I pressed the musket barrel to my opposite hand's back.
"Imperial bayonet forms are simple."
Caught it with the other wrist, spun, and mirrored Astasia's motions exactly.
'Though originally, it'd be wrong.'
Her motions. Exactly her flawed ones.
Flutter.
"How's that?"
"........."
The kingdom flag fluttered grandly from the imperial musket tip.
"It's not that I can't. Like I keep saying, the kingdom's protocols are needlessly hard."
"Uh, um, y-you didn't practice beforehand, right...?"
"First time seeing it."
Astasia scratched her cheek, sour-faced—
"Ah, hold on."
She remembered something.
"Suddenly remembered something urgent!"
"Whatever it is, can a guard just wander off?"
I seized both her wrists.
"Eek...!"
"Weaker than me, too."
"Wha— uh... th-that..."
Her initial tug weakened gradually.
"Th-that's..."
"What're you doing, young master."
"She said she'd kiss my cheek if I nailed it first try."
".......Hahaha!!"
Mente doubled over laughing.
"No wonder you were so serious!"
"No wonder what."
"That desperate for a cheek kiss, huh, young master?"
"It's important."
Some orphanage kids watched from afar. The Whites—shadows—glanced our way subtly.
'Yes. Report to the crown prince.'
That Grey Gibraltar mastered imperial protocols perfectly just for skinship with Astasia—that he's head over heels.
"Hmm. A cheek kiss, eh."
Naria eyed us both.
"Come to think of it, the kids at the orphanage pull pranks like this lately."
She clasped her hands at chest level, dead serious—
"Kiss~ Do it~."
Clap.
She started some bizarre chant.
"......?"
What did she just say?
"Kiss~ Do it~. Kiss~ Do it~."
"Wh-wh-what are you saying!!"
Astasia yelped, jumping.
"K-kiss?! Wh-what do you mean! Al-already talking about that?!"
"What's wrong with it."
"N-Naria...!"
"The young master's already kissed me."
"........."
Suddenly, her gripped arms tensed hard.
"Young master?"
"I mean kissing a lady's hand like a kingdom knight. Not adult kissing."
"........."
"For real, Astasia. I've never kissed anyone."
Just lips to hand for oaths of loyalty.
"Naria. Don't say things that cause misunderstandings. People might think I've lip-locked with you."
"Exactly."
Naria looked at me like it was obvious.
"Kissing hands without hesitation, so what's a lip kiss?"
"......Pardon?"
"Just a cheek kiss. Tsk."
Naria smirked at Astasia.
"If it were me, I'd reward lips."
"U-uuu...! I-it's my first time!"
"Mine too."
"........."
"Ahahahahaha!!"
Mente laughed till tears flowed; Naria clapped, approaching.
"Kiss~ Do it~. Kiss~ Do it~."
"...Ha."
"......Fine!"
A warm, soft touch hit my cheek.
"Th-this counts as a kiss! Happy?! Hmph!"
"........."
"Guard duty to Mente! Gotta prep tea party! Hmph!"
Face beet-red, Astasia fled into the orphanage.
"........."
Fortunately.
"Mm."
The shadows would see it clearly from afar.
"Naria."
"Yes."
"How's my face right now?"
"Ears bright red too—like your gray hair's about to turn crimson like your father's."
"........."
Perfect.
"By the way."
Naria stared at me.
"If it were me, I'd have gone straight for the lips."
"........."
"Astasia's surprisingly spineless. Despite..."
She pouted, dissatisfied.
"...growing on the outside."
Somehow.
"Tch."
A genuinely irritated voice.