The Answer Is 'Sex' - 1
“Tsk.”
The young man with light brown hair clicked his tongue, arms folded across his chest.
Arnold Gordon.
He had been one of the followers of Karl Miller, who was now dead and gone.
Like the other young masters, he had married as well, though the relationship was far from ideal. He had simply followed the arrangement his family had decided for him—bound by interests, not by the heart.
He had been fortunate enough to marry into a count’s house and live in luxury, but that was all. Even while indulging in extravagance, happiness remained distant. Costly jewelry, perfumes, paintings—none of it stirred him. Of course, the young lady he had been matched with was not lacking in looks, nor was her temperament particularly foul. She had her authoritative streaks, but that was average among young ladies of her station.
At least when the young masters gathered among themselves, he could forget such dissatisfactions for a while. Chattering away eased the stress to some degree, no different from any other young master.
Even now he maintained his friendship with Daniel, who had once been a fellow follower.
“I hear marriage talks are starting to come your way as well?”
Arnold sat at the table by the window and took a sip of tea. Across from him, Daniel nodded and set down his cup.
“Mm. Barring anything unexpected, I’ll likely marry the young lady of House Wood.”
“Is that so. Glad to hear there won’t be any noise about it.”
No complaints about family standing or status, at least. Arnold swallowed the rest of the thought and simply nodded. Coming from someone who had married into a count’s house, such words would only sound like mockery.
I can’t very well throw snide remarks at a friend.
Just as Arnold considered him a friend, Daniel regarded him with equal warmth. They shared the common ground of having lost their tether, and they simply got along well.
“But you’ve been looking gloomy lately. Something wrong?”
Daniel’s eyes took on a serious light. Arnold’s expression was never particularly bright whenever they met, so it was hard not to notice.
“Hmm… Looks like I can’t fool your eyes.”
Arnold gave a hollow smile and began to pour out the complaints he had been holding in. As a noble he lived in abundance beyond compare, yet he still felt empty. He was one of those rare types that occasionally appeared even among the aristocracy.
“Hmm… Emptiness, is it.”
Daniel folded his arms and hummed thoughtfully. It was only human nature to want to help a friend mired in worry—especially when one truly considered the other a friend.
“I don’t even know why I’m like this. It’s not that I feel lacking, and it’s not as if I’m looking up at those above me and feeling inferior.”
A heavy sigh slipped from Arnold’s lips. He was not the sort who gazed higher and burned with inferiority. When someone from below climbed past him he felt a flicker of discontent, but that was all. His ambitions were never large to begin with.
He was materially rich and did not even desire greater wealth. His relationship with the young lady was dry, but that too was common enough. Arnold himself sincerely believed as much.
Which is exactly why I can’t figure it out.
No matter how hard he turned it over in his mind, no proper answer surfaced. When Daniel let out a frustrated sigh of his own, a bitter smile tugged at Arnold’s mouth.
“You’ll burst a blood vessel at this rate. Leave it. I’m grateful for your concern, but it seems like a problem without an answer.”
“Haa… You’re right. Even with my head I can’t find a way out of it.”
“Haha. Fair enough.”
Arnold chuckled at the way Daniel muttered in genuine dejection. The sight of a friend worrying for him so sincerely was both touching and oddly amusing. There was no mockery in it, of course.
“Sorry for dumping my situation on you. Let’s drop this topic.”
Arnold apologized sincerely and tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. Brooding over a problem with no solution only left the heart heavy and the head aching. Daniel agreed and, as if he had been waiting for the chance, launched into all manner of idle chatter—from scandals between merchants and nobles to auction gossip. The subjects were varied. Whenever a familiar story surfaced, Arnold actively played along. Having things to talk about naturally loosened his tongue.
“Oh, right—there’s a story that’s been shaking the entire kingdom lately… You’ve heard it, haven’t you?”
“Which one?”
“The romance between the young master of Marquis Stove and the young lady of Viscount Bayern.”
“Ah, that one?”
Arnold clapped his hands lightly, showing he knew it. A young master who had fallen for a young lady of vastly lower standing had defied the marquis’s opposition and finally won his love. It was rare enough to make for juicy gossip—so much so that even commoners on the street knew of it. And the one who had helped that young master was none other than Albert.
“Right. Then you must also know that the orphan… no, the Consort was the one who helped. Who would have thought he’d aid someone who had once belittled him?”
“Indeed.”
I could never have done the same.
Arnold nodded, recalling the memory of his face burning with shame. Who would have imagined a mere orphan could display such broad-mindedness? Of course, the young master of Stove—Andy—had seized the single chance given to him and never let go…
Which only makes the comparison worse.
One man had pursued and devoted himself until he grasped the result he wanted. Another had been handed the chance and thrown it to the ground. The arrogantly smiling face of Karl flashed through Arnold’s mind. The sheer patheticness of failing to seize the same opportunity drew a sigh from him unbidden.
News that Karl had died in an accident had spread widely, yet any noble worth the name knew the truth of it: he had been buried deep in the dark sea by the black-haired monarch. For a time there had been plenty of resentment toward the orphan brat, but no longer.
The Consort, huh…
Suddenly a strange idea flashed through Daniel’s mind. Even to himself it seemed absurd and ridiculous, yet he thought it might ease his friend’s worries.
“Arnold.”
When Daniel spoke, Arnold tilted his head. The tone of his voice had dropped noticeably, as if he were about to broach something important.
“Mm. Go on.”
“What do you think about… meeting the Consort once?”
He avoided the word “audience,” perhaps because he did not yet respect the man from the heart. Arnold’s eyes went wide at his friend’s outlandish suggestion.
“What?”
That single word of pure disbelief was all he managed.
Requests for an audience with the queen from nobles were more frequent than one might expect. From high-ranking houses to low, they knocked on the palace doors for personal gain or to stave off losses. Albert had sat beside Beatrix and watched it all. Some made legitimate demands; others did not. Beatrix saw through their true intentions long before the meeting, yet she never refused a request for audience. She always spoke with them first and only then reached a conclusion. Sometimes that conclusion involved blood, but Albert simply took it in stride.
However—
Not long ago, a request for an audience had arrived not for Beatrix, but for Albert himself. From Arnold, who had married into House Wood.
This one used to be that bastard’s follower…
Beatrix frowned upon recalling that he had been one of Karl Miller’s hangers-on, yet in the end she granted permission. Albert found it equally strange, but he did not refuse.
“Lord Consort. Young Master Arnold Wood has arrived.”
Knock, knock.
A maid rapped on the office door to announce the guest. The young lady he had married had not yet become a countess, so he was still only a young master. One day, when she inherited the title, he would be called the count’s consort, but not yet.
“I’ll be back.”
He could hardly receive the man in the office the way Beatrix did. Albert pressed a kiss to Beatrix’s cheek and slowly rose from his seat. A radiant flower bloomed across the face that had looked empty a moment before.
“If anything happens, tell me. No—if he so much as rubs you the wrong way, tell me. I’ll handle it.”
“Thank you.”
Albert gave a wry smile at her excessive affection and stepped outside. The maid had already shown the guest to the reception room, so his steps naturally turned that way.
Creak. When the maid opened the door, Arnold, who had been sitting at the table, hurriedly rose to his feet. Unlike the days when he had gossiped behind Albert’s back, the man now seemed immensely large.
Can someone change this much in just a few months…?
From the sheer presence to the atmosphere. Arnold could not hide his inner fluster, yet he somehow managed a proper greeting.
“Thank you sincerely for granting my request for an audience. I am Arnold Wood.”
“You must have had a long journey. Please, sit.”
Albert naturally offered him a seat and whispered to the maid standing nearby.
“Could you bring some tea?”
“And for refreshments?”
“Hmm… Brownies, please.”
“Understood.”
The maid answered in a soft voice and withdrew. Brownies were among the higher-grade desserts the royal chefs had developed together with Albert. He knew full well that Arnold had once run with Karl Miller’s crowd, and precisely because of that he served something fine—to show that he would not discriminate against a guest who had come to see him. Even if he later decided to deal with the man separately.
Only after Albert took the seat opposite did Arnold carefully settle his hips onto the chair.
“Let’s have tea first and talk afterward. Is that all right?”
“Yes… of course.”
It was nothing urgent, and thoroughly personal besides. Arnold nodded obediently and carefully lifted the tea and dark brownie the maid brought into his mouth. At first the black-and-white appearance made him wonder if it was burnt,
To use expensive chocolate like this…
but the moment he tasted it, his eyes sparkled. He wanted to learn the recipe and take it home if at all possible.
“Thank you truly for such generous hospitality.”
Clink.
The sound of a fork being set on an empty plate rang out as Arnold bowed his head politely. Both tea and brownie had vanished cleanly.
“I’m glad you enjoyed them. The kitchen staff made them experimentally, so I was a little worried they might not suit your taste.”
“A dessert this excellent would be welcome anywhere. Your modesty is excessive.”
Using the dessert as an opening, the conversation began on a rather amicable note. Albert harbored no particular ill will, and Arnold, for his part, was already unconsciously treating him as a superior. Clean features, a leisurely air, even the voice—he looked every bit the equal of any noble.
As they exchanged empty small talk, Arnold’s tension seemed to ease; his expression brightened considerably. Albert read the change and decided it was time to get to the point. He could not simply send the man away after nothing but chatter.
“I’d like to hear, at last, why you wished to see me, Young Master.”
The main topic. Arnold tightened the reins of tension that had begun to loosen and paused for a moment.
“Yes… Forgive me, but it is a thoroughly personal matter…”
“It’s fine. Speak freely.”
What could it be? Curiosity and anticipation made Albert’s heart beat a little faster.
I can’t back out now.
No convenient excuse came to mind. Arnold steeled himself and slowly opened his mouth.
“The truth is…”
Once his lips parted, the story poured out in a stream. Trivial details were mixed in here and there. Even so, Albert listened without the slightest sign of boredom, doing his best to show sincerity even if he could not fully empathize.
“Hmm…”
When the tale finally ended, Albert folded his arms and groaned. It was not marital boredom—he had married without feelings from the start. Nor was it the common midlife crisis people spoke of. The man had simply, suddenly, found life empty, and that left Albert’s head spinning.
I need to know the reason before I can see a way to solve it.
Beatrix might know the answer, but she would never give it. She was numb to others’ emotions and would not care much either way. Sometimes simply unburdening one’s worries to a friend brought relief, but this case was different. Arnold had already spoken of his situation to Daniel from time to time, yet nothing had changed. And he could hardly bring it up with his wife, the young lady. They were bound by pure political calculation with no real affection; she would only think he was laying groundwork for even greater luxury.
Might as well just go for it.
If there was no material lack, then the emotional lack had to be filled. After a long silence, Albert slowly opened his mouth.
“Let’s invite your spouse once.”
In times like this, sex is the answer.