WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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Chapter 133: Tilles’s Autumn (4)
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As befitted Tilles, renowned for its cuisine, the meal Maria had prepared was elegant but far from modest. In other words, expensive dishes arrived in small portions, frequently, and beautifully arranged. (Eugene shouted, “Fine dining from the Eland mainland!”)
Completely pointless.
Ivan was not used to this sort of culture. He swallowed a thumb-sized filet mignon, a kind of steak that vanished after two pokes of his fork, then waited for the next plate.
“No, Mom, I’m telling you. They let them loose in the mountains. The orcs! Thirty of them! My arm was broken at the time, so...!”
“My goodness.”
Maria continued smiling gently as Isabelle spoke with great passion.
When Maria noticed Ivan’s empty plate, she blushed slightly and gave the table a quiet tap-tap. A maid immediately approached, cleared Ivan’s dish, and set down the next course.
It was a small finger food dish of blini, Krasilov-style pancakes topped with caviar and soft-boiled egg. It came paired with a fine red wine.
Naturally, it was another portion small enough to vanish in a single bite. All manner of flavors ran wild in his mouth.
Ivan was unusually strict about food, and he did not enjoy this kind of fussy cooking. He preferred simple meals. He was beginning to miss the corn tea in the director’s office.
“And then, out of nowhere, everyone came rushing out and applauding. You know what? I fainted right then.”
“My goodness. Does that mean he watched the whole thing through for about five days?”
“That’s what makes him worse!!”
“I’m grateful.”
“...??”
A crack seemed to run across Isabelle’s expression. She looked as though she had just heard something incomprehensible.
Still wearing that warm smile, Maria turned to Ivan.
“So you personally guided and trained her. I’m grateful.”
“It was my duty.”
“Does the food suit your taste?”
“...Yes, I’m enjoying it. Thank you.”
“I had it prepared in a hurry, so it isn’t much. Please let me know if you need anything.”
“Yes, madam.”
When Ivan’s plate became empty again, Maria lightly waved over the maid. She leaned close and whispered something into the maid’s ear.
Ivan’s hearing could pick up the footsteps of a mouse passing behind closed windows. Even without enhancing it with mana, a trained agent could not miss a quiet conversation from this distance.
“You should have the next setting ready before the guest’s plate is empty, Lucie.”
“My apologies, madam... B-but table manners...”
“Manners were not made to separate people. They were made to make people more comfortable. What are you saying to a guest from another country? Are you trying to embarrass me?”
“My apologies, madam.”
The meal continued more or less like that. A one-bite dish arrived. Ivan silently swallowed it. Another arrived, and he swallowed that too.
Tilles had a dish called foie gras. It was made the same way as on Earth, by forcing food down a goose’s throat through a funnel.
Maybe that was why. Unlike Krasilov, where people laid out plenty of food, served themselves as much as they wanted, and cleaned up afterward, Tilles served tiny portions that barely counted as food on little plates, apparently testing both their seasoning and their livers.
Ivan did not care for the method. He put another bite into his mouth.
“And they never even came to visit me, then suddenly said they were off to meet dwarves.”
“Dwarves?”
“Yes! Then they came back covered in injuries and spent another few days bedridden!”
“My goodness. Krasilov really does work people hard.”
Time passed as though the word “mealtime” had been stretched out syllable by syllable. Once the students were suitably full, the maids led them to their bedrooms.
Ivan also unpacked and waited for a while. He organized his equipment and passed the time setting a few simple traps near the bed.
-Knock, knock.
-Sir Petrovich, madam is asking for you.
“Mm.”
By the time the maid finally came for him, it was early evening. Ivan headed for the back garden following her message.
* * *
“Was dinner satisfactory? I didn’t know what sort of food you liked, so I prepared what I could on short notice.”
“It was a sufficiently luxurious experience. Thank you, madam.”
A simple dessert and wine sat on a white table in the middle of a back garden surrounded by neat shrubs.
At Maria’s gesture, Ivan took the seat opposite her. The maid standing beside him poured wine into his empty glass.
Maria gave the maid a small gesture.
“Could you leave us for a moment?”
“B-but, madam...”
“Please. It would be troublesome if an unsavory rumor started going around, wouldn’t it? Keep it a secret for me.”
“...!! Yes, madam!”
The maid left with a faint smile and light steps. Ivan glanced behind him, then asked quietly.
“Do you require an investigation?”
“There’s no need. I know who sent that child. By tomorrow morning, today’s ‘unsavory rumor’ will be circulating in Baron Gramont’s salon.”
“Would you like me to handle it quietly?”
“Is that Krasilov’s ‘secret service’? It’s as terrifying as I heard!”
Maria covered her mouth and chuckled.
“It’s all right. That child only passes things along and cannot make judgments. She is not a shrewd child. She has three younger siblings and a sick mother to care for. Fortunately, leaking a rumor in moderation is something I can manage myself.”
Hypocrisy.
Ivan tilted his wineglass as he thought. There were many small hypocrites like this in the world.
Maybe that was why the world still looked peaceful, at least on the surface.
“You must have many questions. Would you like to ask them? Anything I know.”
“Your husband... What were Maximilian’s final moments like?”
“He smiled.”
What condition Maximilian had been in, whether there had been any hidden meaning in his final moments, was the most urgent issue.
He was the man who had demonstrated just how thoroughly the aftereffects of killing one of the Seven Dragon Generals could destroy a person.
“Very, very brightly.”
“Did he leave any other message?”
“What he said was always the same. ‘What a relief.’ What exactly was such a relief... Foolish man.”
It was a relief that others had not gone through it. A relief that the Demon King was dead. A relief that the Allied Kingdoms had not fallen.
Even if half the world burned, he was the sort of man who would say those words if the fire could be put out in the end.
Ah, it was a relief that half the world remained.
He would smile at the half who survived, not mourn the half who had died.
In every statue built in his honor, he stood smiling, his sword held straight.
Then it was all right. It meant Maximilian had not lost his mind, at least until the very end.
As long as his reason held until the Hero Party of this generation fully matured, it would be enough. They would be able to stop him.
“According to our intelligence, three counts in Tilles are preparing for civil war. Did you know?”
“Would I not know something even children in the streets know? That is a rather easy question to answer, even if you invoke intelligence reports.”
Maria chuckled and took a sip of wine.
“Guillaume II, Count of Orléans, Etouan, Count of Grandmartel, and Jean Beltua, Count of Vermonfort. It is an open secret that the three grand counts are preparing to point their swords at the Tilles Royal Family.”
“And the Tilles Royal Family isn’t responding.”
“Yes. How could they, when the three princes each have their own ambitions? That is why His Majesty wishes to protect this city, even if he must use a woman like me as a public figurehead.”
If Maria lived in the royal castle, they could not keep watch on the nobles who secretly approached her.
But if they built an unsuitable mansion on a main street, where every citizen could see it, and drew all attention to it...
The great nobles, who kept one another in check, would not dare approach her carelessly.
At the same time, it effectively advertised that the Hero’s family remained under the authority of the royal house. It killed two birds with one stone.
For a king who had lost control over his sons and needed to restrain the greed of his vassals, it was the best move available.
Naturally, the best moves made by political monsters were little different from cruel torture for ordinary people.
This had to be an unbearably bleak environment for such a warm woman. A commoner from the countryside, forced to become everyone’s spectacle, enduring both the admiration and envy of the citizens, and missing the husband who could have shielded her from it all for four years.
Ivan fell silent for a moment. If he spoke now, he felt he might startle her.
Only after composing himself did he quietly open his mouth.
“What is Gilles Ver doing? Before the princes’ conflict became this severe, he should have settled the succession.”
“Of course he did. The Duke of Etakrikh supports the First Prince. If none of the princes stands out as exceptional, the eldest grandson inheriting the line would be the cleanest outcome, without further dispute.”
“Then how did this...?”
“In this country’s politics, saying you support someone means it becomes difficult to refuse that person’s ‘request.’”
Refusing a request from a prince one had publicly endorsed could make it look as though the prince’s internal support was unstable.
That would deal a severe blow to the First Prince’s authority, which had only barely been established. The other princes, supported by great nobles, would never miss such an opportunity.
Therefore, an official request from the First Prince could not easily be refused, especially if it had proper justification.
“The First Prince asked the Duke of Etakrikh to slay a dragon. There had been reports of a dragon appearing in the Vernina Mountains in the northeast. Several villages actually burned down, and the investigation found that a dragon truly had swept through them.”
“I see.”
Hunting was both a noble hobby and the easiest way to elevate a noble’s authority, depending on the prey.
No one in this country doubted Gilles Ver’s martial ability, but a dragon’s corpse would have an even greater visual impact.
The First Prince would not have wanted to let that opportunity pass if he hoped to emphasize his claim to succession. If Gilles Ver slew the dragon so that the First Prince could claim the achievement, who would dare challenge him?
So he dispatched Gilles Ver. He sent the Defender Duke and his retainers out of the city. And then...
“The three counts approached the three princes at the same time the Duke of Etakrikh was absent. The counts now act as though they hold this country in their hands. Each behaves as though they are king, constantly plotting against the others, yet willingly joining hands when it suits them.”
“How did the First Prince respond?”
“If he refuses, who will protect him? Until the Duke of Etakrikh returns, who indeed?”
“What is it you want, madam?”
There were three broad solutions. Ivan organized his thoughts quickly.
Kill all three counts.
Kill or imprison all three princes.
Or imprison all of them, then hand them over to Gilles Ver when he returned.
Thinking of how Elizaveta would have tearfully clutched her forehead if she heard this, Ivan looked up.
“You speak as though you would do anything for me.”
“If you wish it, it will be done.”
“My, that isn’t an appropriate thing to say to a married woman, Sir Petrovich. I heard you became a knight, but you speak like someone from Tilles.”
Maria chuckled as though joking.
“Did you charm my daughter the same way?”
“...Pardon?”
Ivan did not usually ask people to repeat themselves. His hearing could detect even the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. People sometimes misspoke in front of him, but he rarely misheard them. (Those who misspoke generally became honest after suitable correction.)
This time, though, he had to ask. Malicious rumors of this kind had to be quashed with hard facts.
“My daughter seems completely taken with you. A mother’s eyes cannot be fooled.”
“You misunderstand.”
“Really?”
“Sincerely.”
A mother’s eyes could not be fooled? It was a rather funny thing to say, though perhaps rude to say so to Maria. She too was, after all, a citizen of this premodern age.
Mothers tended to be remarkably dull about this sort of intuition. Kim Seonwoo could testify to that. Every time he merely walked with a woman, his mother asked, “Are you Seonwoo’s girlfriend?” As a result, he had never once managed to date anyone.
Kim Seonwoo quietly shed tears and fell silent.
Ivan readily sympathized with his feelings and gave a short shake of his head.
Maria chuckled at the sight, then looked at Ivan. Her expression was mischievous and her tone light, but her eyes had grown a little more serious.
“Please help the Duke of Etakrikh. Help him kill the dragon. Restore the balance of this country, so the hunt does not drag on any longer.”
It was such a difficult request that she seemed ready to laugh it off as a joke if he refused.
Yet she still pleaded with simmering sincerity.
“I will.”
It was such an easy request that Ivan did not hesitate.
Hunting was his field, after all.
Gilles Ver was a knight. He could not possibly understand the process of tracking trails, crossing the wilds, driving prey into a corner, and catching it. If he were that kind of man, he would not have cut through the skies over enemy territory.
Hunting had always been Ivan’s responsibility. Quietly following, scenting out traces, tightening the noose around the prey’s neck.
The shadowy, “boring” work the Hero Party could not do had always been his role. He had been their scout. He had been more like the Hero Party’s hunting dog.
Even afterward, though the hand holding the leash had changed, his role remained the same. Someone’s hunting dog, right until retirement.
Fortunately, he had retired later than the Hero Party. The days when he traveled the field himself were not so distant, so he could still be considered active.
Hunting was his field. Besides, it was a far less burdensome request than assassinating the great nobles one by one.
“You mean it? A dragon?”
“I’ve done it before.”
Ivan rose from his seat. Maria did not fault him for the rudeness. She only stared blankly, then murmured blankly.
“I think he would make a fine son-in-law.”
The Krasilov Princess would surely oppose it with everything she had. What was Maria supposed to do about that?
Ep 20. Tilles’s Autumn.
Footnotes:
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