Chapter 427: The Sun Still Sets (3)

I absentmindedly fiddled with the pocket watch after Villar left.

It was just the right size to fit in one hand, likely considering portability, with an exterior that boasted both splendor and elegance befitting a gift from the ruler of the continent’s second-largest nation. They must have put considerable thought into it, as the watch itself was a work of art.

Of course, the exterior became secondary once the Robens’s royal crest was engraved.

Life sure brings unexpected things.

It wasn’t a thought a mere 20-year-old should have, but I couldn’t help it. When would an imperial noble ever receive a gift from the King of Armein?

Even a high-ranking diplomat visiting Armein during peaceful times might receive a gift in the king’s name, and that would usually be silk or jewels. An item bearing the royal crest was unimaginable.

Yet such an item has come into my hands. And I didn’t even go to Armein to receive it—it was delivered to me where I sat.

The gap in national power has really widened.

I chuckled as I continued to fiddle with the pocket watch. The country second only to the Empire in power, the kingdom of knights, the Empire’s primary potential enemy—there were countless other names for Armein.

And what these meant was simple. While it was nearly impossible for Armein to defeat the Empire, the Empire would have to prepare for significant losses to completely subdue Armein.

As such, Armein had shown a diplomacy that balances submission and dignity towards the Empire, but they’d suddenly given a gift bearing the royal crest to a mere noble. It was an acknowledgment that the gap between the two countries has become immeasurably wide.

It would be stranger if they didn’t acknowledge it.

In truth, it wasn’t surprising. With the North falling into the Empire’s embrace, some imperial troops guarding the northern border had moved east, and the northern nomads had become imperial cavalry. To remain stubborn after this would be recklessness, not courage. At least the King of Armein was a monarch who could distinguish between courage and recklessness.

That’s good.

I put the pocket watch in my pocket and took out the communication crystal. It was welcome news for the Empire if the other party acknowledged the hierarchy. After all, that mean there’d be no need to mobilize force to establish the pecking order.

“With the North peaceful under the Great Emperor’s protection, I only hope that true peace and order will settle in the East as well.”

When the Emperor had just ascended the throne, I heard such words while tagging along as his pet toy. He was hoping the East would remain quiet after expending the Empire’s power to conquer the North.

It was an understandable. The northern conquest was possible because the nomads were treated as stateless, but the eastern kingdoms had clear nationalities and borders. Carelessly taking territory would take ages to settle, and withdrawing without taking territory would lead to them rising again before long.

In this dilemma, the Emperor wanted to establish a hierarchy without war. Like the King of Armein who didn’t want war, the Emperor also leaned towards peace.

— The King of Armein sent a gift?

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Thus, the Emperor smiled at my report. An eastern kingdom, especially the Empire’s primary potential enemy, knowing its place and bowing its head? For a newly enthroned Emperor, it was news that secured both prestige and practical benefits.

— It seems the King of Armein was moved by the minister’s hard work. Prince Rutis must have spoken well of you.

“I merely did what I had to do.”

— What could be more difficult than that? There’s nothing more important than fulfilling one’s duty.

The Emperor chuckled softly, then composed his expression and spoke in a low voice.

— We should send an envoy to Armein soon.

“Truly a wise decision.”

I bowed my head to the Emperor and gave a ceremonial response.

But it wasn’t just a ceremonial answer. As the Emperor said, there was a need to send an envoy to Armein. Although Armein hadn’t officially sent an envoy to submit to the Empire, they’d shown their intention to submit by contacting the Emperor’s closest aide. So, the Empire can save face for Armein, which submitted first.

For example, the peace between the Empire and Armein wasn’t because Armein submitted first—but because Armein grasped the hand extended by the Empire.

We should be considerate to that extent.

You had to save the other party’s face a bit for them to bow their heads without hesitation.

Those who rely only on their own strength and cause trouble eventually accumulate bad karma and fall. Apels in history and Leon in the present are proof of that.

— By the way, minister. The King of Armein seems to have a great interest in you. Perhaps to Armein—

“I apologize, but I have many matters to handle in the Empire.”

I shook my head sternly at the Emperor, who mentioned joining the envoy. Was this damned guy trying to send me abroad when he wasn’t satisfied with just domestic affairs? Not a chance.

— Is that so? That’s a shame.

Fortunately, he wasn’t seriously insisting it as he quickly gave up and backed off.

Of course, I know what he was thinking when he suggested it. My presence among the envoys could put pressure on Armein, so he meant for me to just be there. While saving Armein’s face, he wanted to extract maximum practical benefits.

But I don’t want to.

Diplomacy was clearly not my job, and I was a groom-to-be getting married early next year.

Sending a groom-to-be abroad?

I will never forgive such an evil and shameless superior.

After the pocket watch incident, I was able to spend peaceful days. I heard that they were forming an envoy to Armein with the Minister of Foreign Affairs as the head in the capital, but I let it pass since that wasn’t any of my concern.

What I needed to worry about now wasn’t the distant affairs of the capital, but the relationship issues right in front of me.

“Oppa, I heard you started calling Sister Penelia by a nickname too… Is that true?”

I kept my mouth shut at Louise’s careful question during club time.

It was true. I recently started calling Penelia by the nickname Pene. It was the fourth nickname after Mar, Trixie, and Eli.

…What should I do?

But this meant that the number of nickname holders has surpassed the non-holders. I was in a situation where I couldn’t say anything if the non-holders felt left out and expressed dissatisfaction.

It’s awkward to reduce them.

It was a difficult situation. Marghetta was Mar, Beatrix was Trixie, Elizabeth was Eli, Penelia is Pene. Their names were just right for making appropriate nicknames.

But how should I shorten Louise and Irina? Honestly, weren’t two or three syllables already short?

Loui and Iri? They somehow sounded like male names or animal names. Then Ize and Rina? That would make Lou and I sound like surnames.

“Brother?”

“Ah, y-yes… that’s right.”

While I was racking my brain at a desperate speed, I finally opened my mouth at Louise’s prompting.

At that, a faint moisture began to form in Louise’s eyes. Guilt clawed at my chest.

It must be Eli again.

The guilt quickly turned to resentment. Eli must have been chatting with Louise via communication crystal and brought up the nickname topic. This was all because of her—

No, that’s not it.

I hastily cut off that thought. I was shamefully trying to shift my responsibility onto someone else.

If there was any fault, it was mine for not coming up with nicknames earlier. Eli didn’t do anything wrong.

“Um, sorry. I didn’t know how to shorten three-syllable names.”

After a moment of silence, I made an excuse that even I found embarrassing. What was more embarrassing was that this excuse wasn’t a lie, but the truth.

“Oppa.”

“Huh?”

Then Irina, who had been quiet, subtly chimed in.

“My family calls me Rin, so please call me Rin too, Oppa.”

“…Oh, okay…”

I nodded blankly at this unexpected nickname proposal.

Even Louise seemed not to have anticipated Irina’s strategic move, as she quickly turned her gaze to Irina.

“If you don’t know, we can just tell you.”

Irina, seemingly a bit embarrassed by that gaze, defended herself in a small voice.

But her eyes were strangely confident, as if she had no regrets about her actions.

The drive to quickly seize an opportunity when it presented itself was remarkable. Was this a merchant’s virtue?

“Th-then me too!”

Anyway, Louise, who had suddenly become the only one without a nickname, moved her eyes around and stammered.

“Me too…”

But she just stammered, unable to actually suggest a nickname for herself.

She doesn’t have one.

It was a pitiful sight that naturally evoked sympathy. It seemed my third father-in-law and mother-in-law must’ve had the same struggle as me. Otherwise, Louise, who grew up loved, would surely have had at least one nickname.

“Um, Louise?”

In the awkward silence where even a small noise felt inappropriate, someone spoke up.

“You don’t need a nickname to be close, right? My parents don’t have nicknames for each other, but they get along well.”

It was Sarah.

Unlike the other lovers who already had nicknames and would seem insincere if they spoke up, or the club members who had been rejected by Louise before and might seem clingy if they suggested nicknames—the only one with the right to speak freely opened her mouth.

I was moved. My efforts to help Sarah progress her relationship with Erich had come back as a blessing. Otherwise, I couldn’t explain Sarah’s intervention.

“And since Louise is the only one called by her full name, doesn’t that make Louise special?”

However, unfortunately, gratitude and eloquence were separate issues.

Well, I appreciate the attempt at comfort, but wasn’t it a bit off to tell a child sad about not having a nickname, ‘You’re special because you don’t have a nickname!’?

Is there no helping it?

Seeing Louise looking even more dejected and Sarah at a loss, I quietly closed my eyes.

It was inevitable that Sarah’s eloquence was somewhat lacking, as she spent her whole life in a mansion and only started interacting with society this year. I should be grateful enough that she stepped up to help me.

The sight of the dispirited pink capybara led to an impromptu nickname contest.

And after a heated discussion, the nickname ‘Lou’ was born. Fortunately, it was an idea that came from my head, not someone else’s.

It was truly fortunate.