“Have all the necessary preparations completed and board the train by noon tomorrow?”
Lancel received the letter on the evening of the wedding day.
If it had been anyone else, there would have been protests and lots of talk about being made a widow right away, but this was a letter sent by the Emperor—or rather, the fake Emperor.
The power behind it was too overwhelming to ignore. Besides, it wasn't as if his death was a foregone conclusion.
“War. War at such a time…….”
The war itself was no surprise.
The Empire was a nation perpetually embroiled in conflicts, both large and small. Naturally, knights like Lancel often found themselves deployed to various fronts, whether by choice or by command.
This endless warfare was precisely why Lancel had spent most of his early years in the borderlands. For an empire that had devoured half the continent, its front lines were astonishingly vast.
Lancel flipped to the back of the letter. The royal seal was pressed into beeswax mixed with gold dust.
‘Imperial reinforcements sent by the Imperial Family.’
That meant there was a high probability that a member of the Imperial Family would personally command the troops.
"What do you plan to do?" Hesti asked, her voice laced with concern.
“I have to go.”
“Young Master.”
Marigold approached before Lancel could finish speaking. "Take me with you."
Her eyes burned with unwavering determination. "If you go, Master, I'll follow. Even if I have to walk."
She clutched the necklace Lancel had given her tightly.
"Since it's the First Imperial Support Army's route, it shouldn't be too dangerous. But a battlefield is still a battlefield. Are you sure you want to go?"
The answer was obvious. Marigold looked ready to force her way after Lancel if necessary.
Bang!
“Lancel!”
“Your Excellency the Count of the Palace?”
The man who had raced through the rain in the middle of the night opened the door. He threw off his wet outer garment and strode towards Lancel.
"Knock..." Hesti began to mutter, but Lancel quickly covered her mouth.
"Have you heard?"
"About this?" Lancel held up the mobilization order.
The Count of the Palace wiped a hand over his face. "You've seen it. His Majesty made this decision unilaterally, leaving me no room to intervene. If I'd known sooner, I would have done something."
"It's fine. It's not like I’m going to die."
"There's no guarantee you won't."
As the Count of the Palace said this, he pressed something into Lancel's hand. It was the emblem of House Iceford.
"Wear this when you board the train. They'll seat you in the last car, right next to His Highness the Prince."
It was an order to receive a royal audience. Even during the war, he held a relatively safe position.
"I wish you victory. If you return alive, I shall throw you a grand feast."
The Count of the Palace seemed to be in a great hurry, cutting his words short and disappearing again.
"Knock..."
Hesti's voice trailed softly after him. Was she haunted by the ghost of someone who died because they didn't knock?
‘Will this finally allow me to see Marigold and a prince in one place?’
Lancel wondered at the kind of man the prince would be.
There were seven princes in total in the Imperial Family. All of them had the potential to be connected to Marigold—at least that’s how it is in the game.
Even excluding the Fifth Prince, who had already arrived at the battlefield, there would still be six candidates. Lancel thought for a moment about who was the “best” and the “worst” choice among them.
‘Ideally, the Second Prince. But if not, the Fourth Prince would be fine too.’
The Second Prince, who at least possessed some common sense, or the Fourth Prince, who was frail but mentally sharp, seemed like the best options.
However, the worst-case scenario...
‘Needless to say.’
Lancel's face twisted into a grimace as he thought of one particular person
.
.
.
"Question: Who exactly is in command of this unit?"
Lancel couldn't help the twitching at the corners of his eyes.
“That would be me.”
============
—Encounter event triggered. Marigold has joined the First Imperial Support Army, commanded by Sixth Prince Karin Craig Freesia.
============
“The luckiest and most handsome man in the Empire. Karin Craig Freesia.”
Lancel desperately tried to maintain a neutral expression. Marigold, standing beside him, looked worried.
"Master, are you alright?"
"No. I feel like the alcohol I drank last night is about to come back up."
"That's what happens when you overindulge..." Marigold said, patting his back, but Lancel's current turmoil had nothing to do with a hangover.
Lancel glared at the Sixth Prince and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.
‘Why does it have to be that bastard?’
This was the worst possible outcome.
"I assume everyone here knows what kind of person I am. Let's hope no one here earns my displeasure."
Literally the worst possible candidate.
19.
"Why is this space so cramped? Change it immediately. How am I supposed to endure a ten-day journey in such a stifling place?"
The Sixth Prince's voice was dripping with dissatisfaction the moment he boarded the train.
Thanks to the gracious consideration of his esteemed father-in-law, Lancel found himself seated closest to the Sixth Prince—a stroke of misfortune that only amplified his discomfort.
"I don't like the music! Play something faster and more lively! The food is cold, and the wine isn't chilled enough. Who prepared this?"
The Imperial support troops, gathered for war, were being treated like servants. Even the knights were sweating profusely as they pitched in with manual labor.
If Lancel and Marigold hadn't been wearing the Iceford insignia, they would have been among those toiling away.
"Finally, some breathing room. Hey, open the window over there. All your commotion is kicking up too much dust."
His constant complaints had finally transformed the entire train car into a makeshift party hall.
"Master, is it appropriate to have so much alcohol piled up when we're heading to the battlefield?"
"Do you think it is?"
One side of the car was stacked high with wine bottles and oak barrels. Lancel already knew their purpose, and they were put to use the very next day.
"You, come here and take this wine. And you too."
"Y-your Highness... wine, right now..."
"You dare refuse wine bestowed by a prince?"
"I will accept it as a blessing!"
"Whether it is a blessing or not, it's wine bestowed by the divinely blessed bloodline of the Imperial Family. This is the true blessing."
Although Lancel had burned at the execution ground after stabbing him in the past, the Sixth Prince was not a truly evil or wicked person. At least, not when compared to a real villain.
His problem was simply an insatiable thirst for reckless revelry and a bizarre sense of direction.
"Bring me the ceremonial swords!"
The Sixth Prince, now thoroughly drunk, threw two rapiers onto the floor before him.
Clang!
The thin rapiers rolled across the floor, their metallic vibrations echoing through the room.
But the Sixth Prince wasn't finished.
"Look at this! Gold coins! The Imperial Household’s gold coins!"
With a clatter, over ten Imperial Household gold coins were tossed onto the floor.
The sound of swallowing echoed through the room. Even for the noble scions, ten Imperial Household gold coins was no small sum.
Moreover, for the soldiers, it was a truly life-changing amount of money.
"Let's make a bet. The winner of a duel gets this. What do you say?"
"H-His Highness the Crown Prince, isn't this a bit... inappropriate right now?"
"Why? I'm not asking anyone to kill anyone. Do you really think someone could die from a ceremonial sword like this?"
As if to prove his point, the Sixth Prince picked up the sword he had tossed aside. Without hesitation, he drew it across his palm.
“Eek!”
“Your Highness!”
Lancel and even Marigold grimaced.
‘The Sixth Prince is a crazy bastard.’
Showing off the blood welling in his palm, the Sixth Prince grinned. "See? It's blunt."
Lancel barely managed to suppress his desire to say, “You died when you were struck by that sword.”
"It's good practice before the war, and you can make some money. Only a fool would pass this up. Don’t you think so, Lancel?"
The arrow returned to Lancel, who stood beside him.
"I heard you won one of the Empire's three most beautiful women with just your swordsmanship skills? That woman was the one I had my eye on—I nearly died of envy."
The Sixth Prince approached and began kneading Lancel's shoulder, speaking loudly as if for everyone to hear.
"Look at this. With just one good swing of a sword, you can win beauty, titles, and wealth. Everyone should follow Lancel's example. Now, I'll count down from ten."
A tense standoff began.
“Ten……Nine…….”
Before the number eight could escape his lips, two soldiers darted forward like lightning. Without regard for who moved first, they simultaneously grabbed ceremonial swords.
"Eek...!"
"I was first...!"
A smile spread across the Sixth Prince's face.
"The first to bleed loses. Begin!"
The two soldiers exchanged glances before swinging their swords at each other.
Clang!
Metal clashed, and heavy breaths filled the air.
“Lancel, who do you think will win? Let’s make a bet. I’ll take the left one. He’s more nimble. You can tell just by looking at him that he’s a skilled fighter.”
“Then I will also choose the one on the left.”
“If you choose the same fighter, then there’s no bet.”
“Why should I make a losing bet?”
“……Is that so?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
The Sixth Prince suddenly shifted his gaze to Marigold, who was standing beside Lancel.
"Is she your lover? How can a married man already be parading around with a lover? Lady Iceford would be heartbroken if she found out."
"Don't misunderstand. She's my bodyguard and close confidante."
"Another way of saying 'lover,' isn't it?"
"No."
"Really?"
"Why would I lie to His Highness? What reason would I have to deceive you?"
"A bodyguard, hmm. She's tall, but she doesn't exactly look like a skilled fighter..."
"Marigold is stronger than any soldier here."
"Oh-ho."
The Sixth Prince eyed Marigold with a peculiar gaze.
As if rejecting his scrutiny, Marigold took another step closer to Lancel, pressing herself against his side.
The Sixth Prince's eyes widened.
Marigold had given him a sharp, icy glare before dismissing him entirely.
It was a chillingly indifferent attitude he had rarely encountered since birth as a prince.
"Hmm."
The duel ended quickly.
“Ugh!”
The soldier, his shoulder pierced by the rapier, recoiled and fell to the ground. Even a blunt blade could tear through flesh upon impact, leaving a gaping wound.
"I-I won! I won!"
The Sixth Prince slowly approached and raised the victorious soldier's hand.
"Let us applaud the victor!"
Ten gold coins were placed in the soldier's palm.
“Oh, m-money! Gold coins!”
“Yes, yes. Those are genuine Imperial Household gold coins, victor! When the war ends, live a life of bedding ten women at a time!"
"Thank you, Your Highness! Thank you! Long live His Highness the Sixth Prince! Long live! Long live!"
The sight of real stakes changing hands made the atmosphere in the arena suddenly stifling.
The soldiers watching the spectacle couldn't hide their regret and greed. A collective sigh escaped their lips: "We should have jumped into the fight first!"
"Well then, shall we raise the stakes and have some real fun?"
“Are we fighting again?”
“This time, I won’t hesitate to fight!”
At that moment, when the soldiers' eyes were about to turn red.
Just as the soldiers' eyes were about to bulge with excitement, the Sixth Prince's gaze locked onto Lancel. Or rather, it fixed on Marigold, who stood beside him.
"Marigold, was it? Sir Lancel's right-hand woman."
"...That's correct. Why do you ask?"
"Listen up! Exactly one week from now!"
The words that followed shattered everyone’s expectations.
"I will bestow three hundred gold coins upon the first man who seduces that woman before I do!"
"T-three hundred...!"
“Huh!”
It wasn't just the soldiers who were stunned.
Even the noble scions and knights aboard the train gaped in disbelief. The value of three hundred gold coins was truly staggering.
A confident smile settled on the Sixth Prince's lips.
“Of course, I will win.”
Comments