Warrior Marygold (7)
Lancel already had a pretty good idea of who he was. There was only one person in this imperial palace who could impersonate the emperor without any repercussions. Someone from his past. Someone he'd nearly formed a deep bond with. Of course, he had no intention of spilling all that aloud. No matter how recklessly he acted, dismantling the "disguised emperor" completely would be suicidal.
"Are you bold, or just an idiot?"
The emperor settled casually into his chair from behind the veil.
"Even the royalty of the vassal states would give anything to meet me. Even their hearts. And yet you demand more."
"You know they're all talk. They wouldn't give up so much as the tongue in their mouths, let alone their hearts."
"……."
The emperor clicked his tongue in response.
"Fine. You're clearly not cut out for court knight. I'll swap your gift."
"Your Majesty…!"
The knights looked crestfallen. They clearly weren't thrilled that someone who'd talked back to their lord was getting what he wanted.
"Quiet."
The emperor's mind was made up.
"If you refuse this gift too, I won't hold back. Lancel Dante."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Lancel flashed a sly smile. A court knight position revoked and reoffered? It had to be worth at least that much, if not more.
"Iceford."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The court viscount snapped to attention at his name.
"If I recall, you have a daughter coming of age soon?"
"Yes. She's the blessing of my life, Your Majesty."
"About time for marriage proposals to start rolling in."
"…Y-yes, but…."
Anxiety crept over the court viscount's face.
"They say she's one of the empire's three great beauties. Lucky she doesn't take after her old man."
"I hear that often, Your Majesty. But why bring it up so suddenly…?"
"Must be tough finding a decent man her age."
"N-no, it's fine, Your Majesty. My daughter doesn't seem interested in marriage yet…."
"I'm saying this out of pity. Don't be so ungrateful."
Cold sweat. Lancel could see it beading on the court viscount's forehead.
"Iceford Court Viscount is an old friend and family to me. I want to personally match her with someone worthy."
"Someone like…?"
"Someone like who?"
The emperor's head whipped toward the man standing right beside the court viscount.
"A man bold enough to kick away even a gift from the emperor himself."
Lancel felt the piercing stares stabbing at him.
"Y-Your Majesty, first, let me ask my daughter's feelings and then…."
"No. We'll hold the engagement ceremony in four days. As a gift, send one of the palace statues."
Hm. What?
"Don't worry. Whatever she is, she's no catch."
Three minutes? No, two? In an absurdly short time, the marriage was decided.
"Master. What are they talking about?"
Marygold whispered.
"They're marrying me off to that guy's daughter?"
"What?"
Marygold's face stiffened.
"Sh-shouldn't you refuse?"
"How do you refuse the emperor twice?"
"B-but, Master is…."
"If he says strip, you strip. Complain again, and my head really hits the floor."
It wasn't unusual, really. Marriages sealed loyalty in this world. Medieval style, after all. And the court viscount was a staunch pro-emperor traditionalist, active as chamberlain. Linking with him meant Lancel—and the entire Dante family—would be classified as pro-imperial nobility from that moment on.
Hm. Maybe it's for the best.
Ties to the imperial family were good for him, and a boon for House Dante. His runaway son from the provinces had snagged the chamberlain's daughter. Social ascension for a border noble house.
No chance of marrying Marygold now.
In that light, it was good. Good. Yeah. Had to be.
"Marriage should be with someone you love…."
"Satisfied now, Lancel Dante?"
Marygold's thin voice was drowned out by the emperor.
"My father and mother will be over the moon, Your Majesty."
"They should be. You've swept away one of the empire's three great beauties, who had every suitor at her feet, in a single day. Of course they'll be thrilled."
The emperor ended it decisively, brooking no argument.
"Congratulations on becoming the court viscount's son-in-law. Lancel Dante. I'll personally officiate the wedding at the palace."
15. After the audience ended.
Lancel wandered the palace gardens with Marygold for a good while, but never crossed paths with the prince. He wasn't disappointed. Probably for the best. Marygold was acting strange. She trailed blankly after him, her mind clearly elsewhere. Even the chamberlain—soon to be Lancel's father-in-law, Iceford Court Viscount—was the same.
"Master getting married…."
"My daughter… to a guy like that…."
Meeting the prince in that state would've sparked trouble for sure.
"We should head back soon. Uh, Father-in-Law? That the term?"
"……."
They wandered the gardens until sunset before leaving the palace. In the distance, the capital's markets came into view.
"Wanna sightsee a bit before going?"
He stopped the carriage at the entrance and walked silently to the market center. Marygold followed a step behind, quiet as a shadow. The clamor of street vendors, drunks hollering, children scampering.
After a long walk, Lancel paused at one stall.
"Mysterious gems from the eastern continent! Just one silver coin! Hold it and your life blooms with fortune!"
Gems, my ass. Just colorful pebbles on a mat. Lancel picked up a necklace strung with blue stones.
"Good eye! That's the one said to bring luck and happiness!"
Before the hawker got louder, Lancel tossed a silver coin to shut him up.
"Mary."
He turned to the trailing Marygold.
"Come here."
Lancel draped the necklace around her neck himself. Her trembling eyes shimmered—emerald as the day they met, still luminous.
"Master."
"What."
Her voice was low and husky.
"Are there… really that many people who marry without loving each other?"
"Why worry about that?"
Watching her quivering lips, Lancel spoke again.
"Fate doesn't have to be inevitable. Some bonds form overnight. I didn't ask for this either."
Marygold was the same. No true inevitability in her life. Endless varied endings from tiny triggers. This loop: she became a mercenary just because she learned the sword. Destiny? If she'd studied letters, a scholar. Song, a bard. Cooking, a restaurateur.
Was that really fate? Empress was the game's goal, but even that might not be the answer. Good luck, loops end. Bad luck, ten-year eternity of madness.
That was it.
"Then at least let me stay by your side, Master."
Lancel felt Marygold's arms wrap around his waist. Her heated body pressed close; he froze, helpless.
"Just let me stick by you. That's fine, right?"
"You're worth a fortune in beans yourself."
"I'm not joking."
Her voice cracked with tears, but Lancel grinned bolder.
"Keep me as a maid, then. Master. I'll just follow you around."
"Wasting someone as honed as you on maid duty? Talent squandered."
"I don't think so."
Stroking her firmly attached head, Lancel felt quiet relief.
Left like this, she'd have married me again.
Not arrogance or narcissism. He'd doubted his self-importance before, but now it was clear.
We've spent ages together as mercenaries already.
That evening, Marygold clung till nightfall; Lancel couldn't shake her.
The wedding day arrived in a flash.
* * *
"Waaah, me, marrying a nobody like this… running a pathetic mercenary guild… waaah!"
"……."
Lancel twitched an eyebrow at the sobbing young noblewoman.
"My life's ruined! Totally ruined, waaah! I just came of age! And my fiancé is some poor noble I don't even love… God, why me?!"
Two hours before the ceremony.
Airi Wiz Iceford. One of the empire's three great beauties. Lancel's fiancée. Despairing over the world.
"…How dare she insult Master…."
"Stop. It's not like that, Mary."
Lancel calmed the growling Marygold beside him. Her hand was inching toward the decorative sword hilt.
"Master, I despise people who don't know when they're lucky."
"Calm down. What are you saying?"
He'd never seen Marygold with such a cold expression.
"God!!!"
"…Should I kill her, Master?"
"Endure it."