Ch.72You Were Looking at Me Like That…?

“Are you trying to secure legitimacy as a successor by borrowing my name?”

This seems like it’s going to be an extremely disgusting development.

Well, if a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights supports him, it would certainly give him a significant advantage in terms of justification…

But I think the opportunity he’s referring to is exactly what just crossed my mind.

“That’s right. While the noble lady’s achievements on the island were impressive… that alone isn’t enough to cover the infamy you’ve accumulated so far. However, if it becomes known that you’re of the bloodline of the Great’s Twelve Knights, that would change everything. That’s why they’ll certainly try to obtain you. Even through marriage.”

“…It seems the imperial family knows my identity too. I don’t recall ever mentioning my mother’s family name.”

While the imperial family might know that the House of Median is one of the Great’s Twelve Knights’ families…

Weren’t there only two people who knew that my mother was a lady of the House of Median?

Lord Ludwig and Sir Sean, I mean.

“I told them. How else would the Empire have accepted a Ka’har princess?”

What a bold confession.

“So you’re saying you’re the culprit behind all this?”

“…I apologize. I didn’t anticipate things would turn out this way. In fact, this situation has become troublesome for me as well.”

Troublesome?

Could he possibly be as troubled as I am, suddenly facing the prospect of becoming a prince’s consort?

Feeling my insides burning, I gulped down the tea in one go.

Without even time to enjoy the aroma, the lukewarm tea flowed into my stomach.

“So, originally I was planning to persuade you to at least get engaged to Prince Leopold out of necessity… but seeing your firm resolve, I’ve abandoned that plan.”

“Of course you should abandon it. Unless you want the prince to be found as a headless corpse on his wedding night.”

If such a situation really occurred, I might impulsively cut off his head and flee.

Afterward, I’d have to wear a mask and thoroughly conceal my identity.

“Hmm, do you truly mean that? Then if we were to arrange a marriage with the Third Prince…”

“Both a prince and a margrave would disappear from the Empire?”

“I’m joking. I wouldn’t take such a gamble knowing what might happen.”

Lord Ludwig gave a bitter smile.

…That was a joke, right, Lord? It had better be. Because I wasn’t joking.

—-

Come to think of it, if I were to enter into even a formal engagement with a prince, I could get rid of all other potential suitors at once.

But that’s impossible, of course.

Not just for psychological reasons, but also from a rational perspective.

Let’s say we agree to break off the engagement someday, and enter into a relationship that’s merely for appearances.

There’s no way such an agreement would be honored until the end.

I need to become stronger in the future, and accomplish many things with that power.

As I do so, my value will only increase.

So later, they’d probably say something like, “Due to opposition from our supporters, breaking off the engagement seems difficult—”

Rejected.

It’s just a sweet bait, but a trap you can’t escape from.

As I ate one by one, the refreshments were soon gone.

Lord Ludwig looked at the empty plate with regretful eyes and put the Mana Herb back in his mouth.

“For now, I have a way to mitigate revealing your bloodline as one of the Great’s Twelve Knights. Still, you would be granted the title of Baron of Median.”

“A way? What is it?”

Is he planning to pressure the imperial family using his position as Prince-Elector?

Considering the future, that doesn’t seem like a very wise approach…

“Become my successor.”

“…What?”

I almost spat out the tea I was drinking.

I think I just heard something incredibly insane.

Was there some hallucinogen mixed in with the refreshments?

“This is the best solution. If you’re someone with only ability but no actual power, you’d just be tempting prey. But if you become the successor to the Prince-Elector, that’s a different story. That would make you too large a morsel to swallow carelessly—it would get stuck in their throats.”

Lord Ludwig smiled leisurely.

“Announcing that the Prince-Elector’s successor is a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights? The authority of the Twelve Knights and the power of the Prince-Elector. The moment it’s announced, those two would combine, and unless the imperial family has lost their minds, they wouldn’t dare touch you.”

“…It seems like all kinds of noise would erupt from that.”

He’s certainly not wrong.

If we inform the imperial family first, it would prevent the worst-case scenario of being publicly announced as a descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights without any backing.

And later, after building up my reputation, if I officially become the lord’s successor, no one would dare touch me.

But entrusting the eastern border to a woman of Ka’har origin? That’s like leaving fish in the care of a cat.

My infamy is an issue, and my father’s bloodline is another problem.

Simply taking me as a wife versus entrusting me with the defense of the Empire’s border are matters of completely different dimensions.

From passive opposition based on lack of trust, to conspiracy theories suggesting I might open the border and invade with a large Ka’har army—all sorts of objections would arise.

“Well, it’s up to you. If you were to announce it now, that would certainly be the case. However, judging from your actions so far, aren’t you planning to build a reputation in the Empire? If we just inform the imperial family in advance, and then announce the fact that you’ve been chosen as my successor after you’ve gained sufficient trust and fame, there won’t be any problems. …After all, you’re planning to sever ties with Orhan, aren’t you?”

Is he saying I should fight Orhan to prove my allegiance to the Empire?

Yes, that’s something I’ll have to do eventually.

“So for now, I’ll still appear as tempting prey to other nobles. That’s troublesome. I can’t exactly half-crush their heads.”

“Hmm… as much as I’d like to smash some heads myself, going too far would cause various problems. However, if you agree to become my successor, I’ll smooth things over if you challenge those who cross the line to a duel. Just try not to kill them if possible.”

Oh? Does that mean I can beat them up as long as I don’t kill them?

That doesn’t sound too bad.

“…I’ll consider it positively for now. But are you really okay with this?”

“I have no intention of taking a new wife anyway. Rather than letting the succession of Prince-Elector Berengaria end, it’s better to entrust it to another descendant of the Great’s Twelve Knights.”

…That’s a somewhat ambiguous statement.

Half of my bloodline comes from the very person who ended that succession.

Though I’ve already severed ties with them, in a sense.

Besides, if I don’t produce an heir, the line will end anyway.

I don’t know. Maybe I’ll adopt someone when I’m older.

Lord Ludwig stood up, seemingly ready to leave.

“That’s all for our discussion. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

I raised my hand lightly in response.

While there are still many suspicious aspects, he’s quite helpful, so I hope he stays healthy for a long time.

As the lord was about to leave the room with his hat pulled down, he turned back to me as if remembering something.

“Ah, yes. The imperial family might summon you once before the award ceremony. Please remember our conversation today well.”

A summons from the imperial family. It makes me a bit nervous.

But I should go and clearly express my intentions.

—-

A few days later, classes resumed.

Perhaps because preparations for practical training weren’t complete yet, it was a theoretical lecture held indoors.

For me, theoretical lectures are actually more helpful, so it’s rather fortunate.

I left the special building and headed alone to the lecture hall in the main building.

Asha said she was busy making my armor and couldn’t attend.

So I was wearing just a short top and pants.

I hope it’s completed soon.

As I approached the main building, dozens of pairs of eyes turned toward me.

‘Who is that woman…? I’ve never seen her before, is she a senior who was dispatched somewhere?’

‘Judging by her appearance, she looks like a priest from the theology department, but she’s not wearing priest robes or a uniform…’

Every student I pass stares at my face intently, then looks at each other and whispers.

With curiosity and admiration, and occasionally with more unpleasant gazes.

‘Isn’t that Lady Lacy?’

‘Lady Lacy has white hair, don’t you even know that?’

‘But look at that face. She could pass for a saint.’

What are they saying?

Don’t blush. I’ll remember this.

‘Those clothes, that hair color… isn’t she that Ka’har woman…? The Aishan-Gioro princess.’

“What? That’s impossible. How could that monster of a woman be such a beauty?”

‘Monster? She did save us though. As for her appearance… she did look like some kind of beast I’d only heard about.’

I hope it wasn’t you who spread rumors about me being a monster that eats Werebeasts?

I believe you wouldn’t have done that, especially after I saved you.

‘…She does look a bit similar.’

‘Then maybe she’s a sister? Coming to find her older sister?’

‘Ah! That could be it. Unlike her sister, maybe she was raised like a precious flower in the palace?’

‘Ohhh, it’s the Daffodil Goddess, ohhh…!’

They’re saying all sorts of things. Hersella did have a younger sister, but I’ve never even seen her face.

Judging by the fact that she never visited the Golden Flower Palace, they probably weren’t that close.

And what’s with that guy calling me the Daffodil Goddess?

I glanced at him with just my eyes.

…Huh?

Isn’t that the guy who had his groin blown off by Asha back then…?

…Even after becoming a eunuch, he hasn’t come to his senses.

Throughout my walk to the main building, the endless attention continued.

It’s unpleasant. Infinitely unpleasant.

The fixed stares at my face are uncomfortable.

The gazes that slide down my legs are disgusting.

The focus on my chest… would it be okay to beat these guys up someday?

Just one dagger thrust, right between the legs.

These bastards. Didn’t thirty of you die too?

Even though it’s been nearly a month, why is the atmosphere so lively?

I don’t like a depressed atmosphere either, but this is a bit too much.

…Maybe they’re forcing themselves to be cheerful because they don’t want to be buried in sadness.

I took out a cigarette, lit it, and threw away the burnt match.

The smoke feels especially acrid and bitter today. Enough to make my eyes hurt.

I let out a weak sigh into the air.

White clouds spread beyond the sky and gradually dissolve.

Maybe I should just go back…