Ch.283Side Story) The Saint’s Son (1)

When the princes reached the predetermined age, they received imperial territories according to the treaty with the Empire. This applied equally to both legitimate and illegitimate sons.

Of course, the fact that even illegitimate sons became neighboring lords was enough to cause discontent among the imperial nobles, but they merely complained without taking action.

No matter how hard they tried, there was no way to prevent the princes of Lotharing from becoming vassals of the Empire.

The territories granted to the princes were not someone else’s lands but those confiscated due to treason, so there was no proper justification for interference. Since the princes received territories because of the treaty with Lotharing, if the imperial nobles wanted to prevent this, they would have to approach the real Emperor rather than the puppet one. Naturally, no noble existed who would dare do something so bold just to assert territorial dominance.

“…Is this my territory?”

“Yes, Lord Michel. This is the Prusa March, adjacent to the Kingdom of Polav.”

“Hmm… it’s quite far from Lotharing, isn’t it? It’s at the far eastern edge of the Holy Empire? Still, it’s good that it’s near the coast. There’s also a Lotharing port city nearby, which will make it easy to stay in contact with my family.”

For these reasons, Michel, Jeanne’s eldest son, received his territory without any interference.

Unlike Dijon with its many fields and good climate, this territory was cloudy, humid, and filled with forests rather than fields—practically a backwater—but Michel didn’t mind such things.

After all, as long as he could maintain contact with his father, he could overcome any unfavorable conditions.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.

“Lord Michel, where are you going?”

“There’s a church over there, isn’t there? Having come this far, I should properly offer prayers of gratitude to God.”

As long as he could pray.

Michel didn’t particularly care whether he was far from his homeland or surrounded by forests, as long as he could offer prayers to God.

……….

“…Huh.”

However, Michel’s feelings were soon shattered.

This was not a place where he could pray to God with peace of mind.

“Are all these things written here… true?”

“Yes, Your Highness. This is the summary compiled by the officials sent by Emperor Claude, your father, who governed on your behalf.”

“…”

The land was vast and the geopolitical location was good. But that was all.

First, the population of the territory was dismal.

The population was already low due to the limited arable land amid the abundant forests, but numerous previous wars had completely depleted the territory’s population.

The port city and the few flatlands were relatively well-developed, but that was it. Michel’s territory wasn’t a small city-state but a collection of vast lands, so extremely concentrated development only led to unstable governance.

“Next is commerce… tsk, this is difficult too.”

What had sustained Michel’s territory was undoubtedly commerce. Facing the Holy Empire to the west, the Kingdom of Polav to the east, and the Kingdom of Scandia across the sea to the north, this territory was a prime location where three major powers intersected, a place where commerce would naturally flourish if left alone.

But that prime location was instantly shattered by the Empire’s exploitation at the hands of Lotharing.

This was because of Gadain, the port city right next to Michel’s territory—the port city that Lotharing had wrested from the Empire.

Gadain, which could trade with Lotharing and enjoyed various benefits due to the Lotharing-Holy Empire treaty, had impoverished the adjacent territories, including Michel’s.

As a result, the current disaster occurred.

With already poor land and now ruined commerce that had sustained the territory, Michel’s territory was left with nothing but its massive size and good geopolitical location.

‘First, I need to normalize the territory, or I’ll be uncomfortable every time I pray.’

Born between a saint and a holy man, Michel naturally valued prayer that allowed communion with God.

But he was now in the position of a lord, and since a lord’s duty was to care for his territory, Michel came to view caring for his territory as having the same value as prayer.

Above all, abandoning such a chaotic territory to focus solely on prayer simply didn’t match his temperament.

Turning away from reality to focus only on prayer was the typical behavior of corrupt churches, something both Michel and his mother Jeanne despised.

“How about requesting help from His Majesty of Lotharing?”

“Help?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The decrease in population and the decline in commerce—isn’t Lotharing the cause of it all? As a prince and an imperial lord, you can request help from the Emperor of Lotharing.”

“Hmm… no, let’s observe a bit more.”

Michel rejected the attendant’s suggestion.

He judged that if this was the state after more than ten years of governance by Lotharing officials, nothing would dramatically improve by asking his father for help. Besides, he didn’t have the nerve to make such demands of his father.

His father had already fulfilled his duty by granting him this territory, and had even provided various initial funds on top of that.

Above all, the concentration of benefits in Gadain was established by a treaty between the two emperors, so it wasn’t a place for a mere lord to interfere.

‘…And there’s also the concern that Father might actually grant my request.’

If he asked for Gadain’s benefits to be diverted to his territory, his father, being a kind man, might actually agree to it.

However, while Michel was a prince of Lotharing who wanted Lotharing’s benefits, he was also a vassal sworn to the Holy Empire’s Emperor.

Doing such a thing would result in taking away Lotharing’s benefits while antagonizing the Holy Empire’s Emperor, leading to betrayal of both sides. It must never be done.

……….

Wanting to clear his head, Michel went out to the castle balcony to look around.

From the small trees and leaves to the tall, dense forests rising high—unlike the flat Dijon—it was a completely different landscape from his homeland.

“Quite dense…”

But rather than being impressed by the exotic scenery, Michel was displeased.

To have such dense forests so close to the castle—what if an enemy army directly sourced materials from those forests during a siege?

Above all, to leave such forests untouched when there was a desperate need for farmland—while it might have been fine when commerce was thriving, now it was just a useless paradise for bugs.

Hmm… for his first order as a lord to be something like this, it would honestly make a rather bad first impression, but there was no choice.

“Do you see that forest?”

“Yes… pardon?”

“I asked if you see that forest.”

“Yes, I do, Your Highness. Would you like to go hunting?”

“No, have it all logged.”

“Pardon?”

The attendant tilted his ear, doubting what he had heard, but that doubt quickly vanished.

Michel’s eyes were filled with firm conviction, like a cleric who had received a divine revelation.

“I recall the previous lord used that forest as a hunting ground or something, but prayer is sufficient for my leisure time, so I don’t need it. And not just that forest—investigate and report on the forests distributed across the flatlands. I’ll select several to eliminate.”

The villagers living around the forest obtained various food and necessities from it, but the attendant gave up mentioning this.

Would Michel, who had received all sorts of education as a prince, really not know this?

The attendant chose self-preservation rather than risking his lord’s displeasure.

‘…I don’t like this.’

And such an attitude was immediately exposed under Michel’s keen gaze, as people-watching was his hobby.

For a servant to prioritize self-preservation rather than offering honest counsel to his lord—while it might be understandable now when there were few people, such an inferior specimen would need to be expelled once more people arrived. Especially since he wasn’t a simple servant carrying out orders but a chamberlain who should be supporting him!

Having inherited his father Claude’s character, Michel had an aversion to unconditional praise directed at him, and seeing the attendant’s attitude, he made a resolution.

He needed to acquire a sound chamberlain who could exchange opinions with him, not a yes-man who unconditionally accepted everything he said.

‘Prusa… huh.’

Having lost interest in the useless attendant who wasn’t worth remembering, Michel turned his gaze back to the window to survey his territory and recalled the name attached to this land.

Prusa, hmm… the sound of it is quite awful.

I’m not sure if it sounds that way because it’s named in Polav language rather than Imperial, but anyway, having been born and raised in Dijon, I find it quite amusing and too exotic to get used to.

Well, Father always used to say that new wine should be put in new bottles, so I’ll follow Father’s principle.

“And… I need to change the name of this territory.”

“Pardon? But the name of the territory was approved by His Majesty the Emperor, wasn’t it? Moreover, changing the territory’s name would also require changing the title, which would cause confusion.”

I should keep this one for now.

Michel mentally noted the attendant who, unlike the one who had hastily left earlier, gave a properly sharp response, and then answered the attendant’s reasonable question.

“Can’t we get new approval? I heard this territory hasn’t been conquered for long and has a short history, so it should be fine. Above all, the name here is too provincial and exotic, making it quite difficult to pronounce. I should change it to a more refined sound while maintaining the original form of Prusa.”

“Then what name would you choose? You are the master of this territory, so please select as you wish.”

“An Imperial style would be preferable, hmm… Prusa, Prusa…”

Yes, how about Preussen?

Having spontaneously voiced the country name that suddenly came to mind, Michel simply said this and then continued to survey his territory with a slightly elevated expression.