Prologue — Their Respective Speculations

Several days after the details for Zenjirou’s debut had been decided, Octavia was returning to the nearby Márquez Estate for the first time in a while.

The plentiful use of a white, marble-like rock and the frequent arches made it clear to even a layperson that the building had been built during the same time period as the palace. Such a home, constructed so close in both time and place to the royal abode was not something the average noble could obtain, and the estate itself clearly demonstrated the position of the Márquez family within the kingdom.

“Stop here if you would; I would like to walk for a while,” Octavia said to the driver of the two-steed carriage from her seat within.

“At once, ma’am,” the middle-aged man escorting her answered before bringing the carriage to a quiet stop with practiced movements.

“Watch your step, Lady Octavia,” her young maid warned her as she stepped down from the carriage.

“Thank you; you take care as well,” she replied.

It was the hottest season of the year, and while the bright sunlight made her reflexively narrow her eyes, it was about five degrees cooler inside the gate. The garden had artificial pools scattered throughout, with greenery planted all around to make wind flow over the water towards the house. While the weather might have been unbearable to someone from Japan, Octavia had grown up in Capua and was used to it.

She seemed to take the array of guards armed with short spears and the attendants around her as a natural fact of life as she walked up the short path from the gate. The walkway was made of reddish-brown stones to reduce the glare and was lined with southern plants that boasted vivid flowers of red and yellow, similar to hibiscus.

Many of the colors in the kingdom were vibrant, and not just the natural elements. The clothing Octavia wore was a startlingly bright blue as well. It was traditional Capuan clothing and was relatively reserved, not showing off the lines of her body, but the color meant that the modern man would call it “showy.” Or at least the outfit wouldn’t be seen as clothing that a married woman in her twenties would wear on a day-to-day basis.

She finally arrived at the double doors to the building and they were slowly opened from within by two burly men. Beyond was an aged, refined-looking man standing in the foyer.

“Welcome home, Lady Octavia,” said the old butler in his ever-calm voice as he smiled at the young countess.

“It is good to be back, Serlio. Is he in his usual place?”

“Indeed, the lord is waiting on the second floor,” he answered with a polite bow of his head.

“I see, then please inform him I shall be there once I have changed and freshened up.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” she said with a soft smile, walking into the estate proper with light steps, followed closely by her attendant.

Roughly half an hour later, Octavia entered a room of the estate and faced her husband, Count Manuel Márquez, for the first time in half a year.

“Welcome back, Octavia,” he said, rising from a well-worn sofa and spreading his arms to greet his thirty-years-younger second wife.

The count was a stocky, middle-aged noble of fifty or so. He wasn’t particularly tall, and would probably have been about the same height as Zenjirou’s 172 cm. He was somewhat rotund, but his short hair and well-maintained facial hair had kept its color well, so he looked younger than his years.

“It has been a while, dear,” she said with an unaffected smile before accepting his embrace.

After a silent moment, they pulled apart, and the stocky man and dainty woman moved towards a corner of the room and sat down facing each other. The sunlight streaming in through the window was as hot as ever, but there was a channel of water flowing below it that made the breeze surprisingly cool.

The count slaked his dry throat with a cup of cold tea that a maid had brought in before starting to speak with a slightly sober expression. “My apologies for the sudden workload.”

“Not at all. It was an honor I was undeserving of, to aid in the education of such a noble.”

“Indeed, you have always been one to please,” he allowed with a wry smile, without even trying to disguise his reaction to his wife’s ever-benevolent response.

Usually, noblewomen were said to be the ones most adept at keeping their true motives hidden from their faces and words, but his second wife was one of the few exceptions. If everything he saw from her ever turned out to be a facade, the count would end up developing a serious distrust of women.

“So, what were your thoughts about Sir Zenjirou? I would like to hear your blunt opinion.”

“Very well,” she answered smoothly. “He was quite a pleasant person. He was very motivated to learn and I believe him to be reliable.”

“Hmm, I see,” he said, nodding at each point, mentally picking apart the information from her words.

Her view of people, if you ignored her excessive kindness when evaluating them, was relatively grounded. If you reduced her praise by a tenth, and expanded her criticism by ten times, you could get a relatively accurate view of a person.

Interpreting her words, he determined that Zenjirou was “almost naively forbearing to subordinates,” “lacking manly ambition,” and “wise enough to understand his position.” Frankly, a rather unsuitable person to use as a foothold into the royal family. It was difficult to embroil a person in your schemes if they lacked ambition and were conservative, yet still rational.

That said, Zenjirou was the only male currently in the Capuan royal family. While he could prove a difficult target, merely sitting back and watching wasn’t an option.

After a period of silent contemplation, he continued candidly. “So, if you were to provide a concubine for him, what sort of woman would you choose?”

Although Octavia was a high-ranking noble by birth, and should have been used to such topics, the young lady’s eyes went wide in surprise for a moment before she gave a reluctant smile and shook her head.

“That... may be a thought best set aside for now. While I personally witnessed Their Majesties together only a few times, from what I heard from those working in the inner palace, the two seem very close. I think perhaps a woman installed there in such a position would soon find herself out of place?”

It was only natural, but a concubine held exceedingly little power compared to the queen. And in this case, rather than being “king,” “queen consort,” and “concubine,” they would be “queen,” “her consort,” and “concubine.” There may have been a large enough difference between queen consort and concubine already, but there was just no comparison between queen and concubine. So while the societal position held by a concubine was normally much lower than the queen consort’s, the one place they had the potential to beat her in was when it came to the king’s affections. If there was no chance of that with Aura and Zenjirou, there would be nothing but a lonely future awaiting a woman sent to come between them.

“Hmm, they are that intimate?”

“They are.”

Count Márquez frowned thoughtfully, not entirely believing his wife’s declaration. He wasn’t stupid or obstinate by any means, but the only viewpoint he had was that of a typical male in the Capuan Kingdom. From his own perspective, he struggled to conceive of a man who could love Queen Aura to such an extent. The ideal woman for a Capuan would be one like the second wife sitting in front of him right now.

Essentially, the concept of “a good woman” was one who would stand silently behind her husband without interjecting. Whilst sagacity was desirable, wit was not, assiduousness was a virtue, yet assertiveness was considered a vice.

As far as the count was concerned, Aura Capua as a monarch was a woman of valor such that it was a pity she had been born female. But he found it hard to say she had any particular charm as a woman. Of course, he would concede that she was at least a beauty with a bewitching figure.

“He is truly in love with her?” he asked again for confirmation.

“He is, without a doubt,” she answered unwaveringly. “For him to abandon the only world he knew until now... what other reason can there be but love?”

To be fair, only half of the reason Zenjirou had accepted the queen’s proposal had been an affection for Aura, but half had been to escape from the unending grind of day-to-day employment. Only Zenjirou himself knew that, though.

At any rate, for Aura to be Zenjirou’s type was something the count could only see as being somewhat contrary to his expectations. The kingdom dominated the western part of the Southern Continent, but Aura was the only woman of her ilk. At the very least, there were none like her that Márquez could make use of, so sending Zenjirou’s preferred type to the inner palace to curry favor would be impossible.

A frown came over his face. “Hmm... in that case, perhaps the best action would be to act in support of Their Majesties.”

His conclusion was a primarily reactive one. The Márquez family already held significant influence within the current administration. Conniving to expand their power was almost instinctive for nobles, but there was no need to gamble with their current position. If the relationship between the queen and her consort was so strong, perhaps it would be best to better the queen’s impression of his own household by wholly supporting their union. In fact, it was unquestionable that the priority of that union was to produce a direct heir of the queen rather than to expand the bloodline through concubines.

“Yes, I believe so too,” Octavia nodded with a heartfelt smile at her husband’s decision. She was aware that the continuation of the royal bloodline and the connecting of families was more important than emotions to most nobles and royals. But still, emotionally, she wanted to see the loving couple create a happy family.

Márquez could guess her thoughts from the wide smile on her face, and he smiled reluctantly in turn as he murmured, “Still, I cannot fathom his tastes...”

That statement, which could well be considered lèse-majesté—treason—if Aura were to hear it, was his honest opinion.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Meanwhile, Aura was visiting the royal army’s training grounds outside the city after a period of absence.

Plants in the Southern Continent grew abnormally quickly and were infamous for rapidly overrunning fields if left untended. The region she was currently in was frequently used by battalions of infantry and hundreds of cavalry. Despite the grounds not being maintained in any real fashion, bare ground was visible as far as the eye could see.

The group using the grounds today could well be called the elites of the royal army. They were the Drake Marksmen Knights.

The usual mount in the Southern Continent was a large reptile called the dash drake. They were inferior in speed compared to the horses of the Northern Continent, but they were far hardier, and there was no comparison in terms of power or stamina. Even compared to the warhorses the northern countries used, they had three to five times the strength.

The drakes did have a severe weakness: being cold-blooded, their activity levels would drop if the temperature fell below a certain level point. But in the Southern Continent, such a concern was barely worthy of mention.

Aura was currently accompanied by General Pujol Guillén as they surveyed the hundred-odd soldiers standing in formation before them. The queen was wearing military dress. The clothing was based around the red colors of the royal family, and while it was decorated with golden embroidery on the sleeves and collar, it was designed for ruggedness and ease of movement.

That wasn’t the impression given off when Aura wore it, though. Despite the thick cloth, her full chest and backside were quite visible. On top of that, the outfit contained a wide belt out of necessity, to hang a sword from, but drew in at the waist, emphasizing her bust and hips. If Zenjirou had been there, he would have doubtless been salivating at the sight.

Of course, the disciplined knights would never leer at their queen that way. The grounds were so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The silence itself spoke highly of the soldiers’ dedication. This would be true enough even if there were only humans present, but each of them was currently astride a dash drake. Gathering over a hundred such creatures together without a single knight deviating from formation or a single drake chirping in excitement was an impressive feat.

Satisfied, Aura nodded. “Begin,” she commanded, cracking the crop in her right hand against her palm.

“At once! Men, commence your drills!” her companion ordered, his voice as loud as he was tall.

“Rah!” bellowed the knights, moving to show the fruits of their labor as they spurred the drakes on.

What followed was a vigorous demonstration of their efforts to the queen and her general. Men charged with long spears, and others pounded over obstacles created from mud and timber. Still others, perhaps the stars of the show, displayed their archery skills, shooting arrows through distant targets whilst mounted.

Aura paid no mind to the dust that was dirtying her face and hair, instead speaking to the man beside her. “Rather impressive. You have trained them well.”

The ambitious general bowed faithfully at her praise. “My thanks. We are finally over eighty percent of our quota. Either this year or next, we should reach our goal.”

“Eighty percent in five years? Superb work, General.”

Aura’s open praise was rare, but the general’s achievement was most deserving of it. The heaviest losses in the war had been suffered by these knights. Replenishing their ranks took vast amounts of money and time. One had to simultaneously raise and train the drakes while teaching the men to ride them. To build their numbers back up in a mere six or seven years could certainly be called a grand feat.

Of course, the new troops were still young knights with no combat experience, so while the numbers would be the same, they would likely fall short of the quality of the veterans.

The general’s stern countenance didn’t shift as he shook his head. “My liege, I would ask that you give that praise to the stable staff. They truly are the ones who have made this possible.”

His ambitions may have been all too clear within the court, but Pujol Guillén was a superlative commander who freely credited his subordinates’ achievements in battle and training.

“I see. I shall,” Aura agreed in response to his candor.

As mounts, the biggest disadvantage to dash drakes over horses was their lifespan. Compared to the twenty or thirty years a horse could live, a dash drake lived for around fifty years. This meant they could be useful on the battlefield for longer, but it also meant that dash drakes born at the same time as horses would take longer to be battle-ready. A horse could be used for cavalry after four or five years, but a dash drake took at least ten years to mature and train.

The newly added drakes were over five years old, which meant that they had been hatched during the war. The breeders’ efforts in ensuring that they were all fed, and with more food than a horse required as their greater stature dictated, without a single one dying despite the depleted budget during the war was indeed extraordinary.

At any rate, the restoration of these troops, the foundation of the nation’s army, was welcome news.

“Actually, I believe we will be able to increase the military budget next year, if only by a small amount. I shall convey the particulars to you later, so consider how you will use it,” she informed him with good humor as the thought came to mind.

The increase in military spending was thanks entirely to Zenjirou’s recalculations and his discovery of the embezzlement by some of the local nobles. As a result of the tense discussions over the past few days, Aura had increased the amount of taxes going into the treasury and was directing the majority of that increase towards the military. The money had originally been supporting regional armies, so directing it to non-military matters would have sapped the country’s strength. While their relations with the surrounding kingdoms were mostly experiencing a lull, peace wasn’t enough of a certainty that she could move towards disarmament.

Aura’s words pried the first slight smile of the day from the general.

“Oh, I see. Very well, once the sums are confirmed, I shall gather the views of those most prominent and outline the military’s desires.”

“Please do,” she nodded, still focused on the knights.

“I shall. Fortunately, the upcoming banquet will host many of the eminent members of the military who reside in the city. I should be able to report back without significant delay.”

Her hand holding the crop twitched at that. The upcoming banquet was, of course, Zenjirou’s societal debut. Naturally, she knew that the ambitious general would be aiming to make a positive impression on her husband.

Hm, how will this play out? she wondered.

Her unambitious husband and the embodiment of ambition that was the general might be like oil and water at first glance, but such people could get along quite affably—an amusing idiosyncrasy of humanity.

I would rather such ambition not influence him unduly, but it is not the place of a wife to interject in such relationships between men.

Aura could do nothing but watch, but her relative lack of worry went to show just how much she had started to trust Zenjirou.

“My sister is very much looking forward to it as well. I would greatly appreciate Sir Zenjirou taking the time to meet her.”

“I see. I shall convey that to him,” she said calmly, unflinching in the face of his ever-obvious aspirations.