Chapter 3 — The Royal Conception

“Ugh-ahh,” Zenjirou moaned as he stretched out in the sunlight streaming in through the open window. He was wearing a T-shirt and pants after eight days of being stuck in his pajamas. The early morning sun still held a tinge of red, and the cool breeze floating in caressed his body pleasantly.

“Hahh...” he sighed again as he rolled his neck, working out the stiffness. “They say your health is your greatest treasure. It’s kinda cliché, but they’re not wrong.”

He’d spent seven days sick with something called The Blessing of the Forest and had only fully recovered the day before. It had been late when he was examined, so he had simply luxuriated in his first proper bath in a week, done only what he absolutely needed to, and quickly retired to bed, all of which meant that, as far as Zenjirou was concerned, he had only truly recovered that day.

“Actually, let’s check the temperature... oh, only around twenty, it’s dropped quite a bit. That would make it feel cool,” he said with slight surprise as he glanced at the thermometer on the wall.

It might still have been near-dawn, but it was much easier on him with the temperature being under twenty-five. He might actually be able to last the day without his ice and fan. When the temperatures were just higher than body temperature, he wouldn’t complain about it, but once they reached the low thirties or so, he’d have to grin and bear it to get used to the climate.

“It’s not like I know how long I’ll have the fan or freezer, either.”

It wasn’t something he wanted to consider, but appliances didn’t last as long as people. He had no spares, so he would someday have to relinquish them. And even while they worked, he could think of other circumstances where he would have to do without... when he had to leave the inner palace as he had done for the banquet, or when an outsider like Princess Isabella came to visit and they needed to hide his things. Getting himself acclimatized naturally rather than when he had no choice certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“Ugh, it’s not surprising, but I feel so weak. Maybe I should do some exercises or start lifting? I’m pretty sure I brought the soccer ball and pump I got during uni,” he mumbled to himself as he patted his body through his clothes, checking for soreness.

Being bed-bound for seven days, it wasn’t particularly strange for his body to go past mere sluggishness and start to weaken. Going back to his prior lifestyle of shutting himself away would carry several risks. He didn’t want to get out of breath just from getting up and walking around at his age, so he felt a real need to take his fitness into account.

“The courtyard we put the generator in should work, right? I really need to be more active.”

He retrieved the ball from a corner of the room and bounced it on the carpet to check how much air was inside. Until now, he’d subconsciously hoped that he wouldn’t get out of shape even as he lazed around, but his illness had emphasized the importance of staying fit. There were circumstances where having or lacking a basic standard of fitness could be the difference between life and death. His miserable time in bed had made him all too aware of it.

“Whoa, guess I shouldn’t be juggling the ball in here,” he scolded himself, catching it in both hands after losing the rhythm.

The room he used as a living room was “absurdly massive” from the perspective of the average person in Japan, but the control system for the generator was on the wall, and a mass of wires spewed out from it, snaking all over the room to various appliances. Everything was as far away from the center of the room as possible to avoid the risk of tripping, but each extension cord had to get to its corresponding appliance, which meant that some had to cross the room since he didn’t have enough to line the wires neatly around the wall. He couldn’t bear to think of catching his foot under one of them.

“Guess it’d be best to find an empty room and have it converted to a gym or something. There are loads of rooms here, anyway,” he muttered.

A knock came at the door, followed by a voice saying, “Excuse me, Sir Zenjirou, I have brought what you requested.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right there,” he answered immediately, rising from the sofa.

It would normally be the maid’s responsibility to open the door for him, but Zenjirou assumed that her hands weren’t free, so he went to open it himself. When he did, his assumptions were confirmed. Standing there was a woman with blonde hair—a rarity in Capua—her hands gripping a wooden bowl as she stood in the doorway.

“The kitchen staff made this following your instructions,” she told him.

The bowl she was carrying was filled with thinly-sliced bananas, fried in oil, seasoned only with a sprinkle of salt. “Banana chips” existed in Japan, but he’d had the kitchen staff make these as a substitute for potato chips. The mashed banana he had eaten during his illness had tasted similar to potatoes, so he’d asked the kitchen staff to cook them in the same way as potato chips.

“Let’s have a taste,” he said as he took one and brought it to his mouth. The still-warm pieces crunched between his teeth. “Mmmm...”

The flavors of salt and vegetable oil spread across his tongue. The base ingredients were a little different than back on Earth, so they weren’t exactly like potato chips, but they were certainly sufficient as a substitute.

“How are they, Sir Zenjirou?” asked the maid.

“Pretty good. They’re maybe a bit thick, though. I’d be pretty happy with them if they were thinner next time.”

“Very well, I shall convey that to the kitchen.”

“Yeah, please do,” he answered as she bowed her head.

He took the bowl from her and shut the door, then sat down on the sofa and put the chips on a low table by his legs.

“Hmm, they’re a bit tough, but they’re good enough to have in place of potato chips. They’re not as strong-tasting as green bananas, either.”

The flavor was more nostalgic than it was tasty. It might seem too soon for him to be feeling nostalgic about Japan after only a few months, but it was an inescapable fact that he had spent much of his convalescence thinking back on his favorite foods. He didn’t consider himself particularly fussy in that regard, and hadn’t actually been dissatisfied with this world’s cuisine so far, yet he had been made painfully aware that it was a different matter when he was feeling unwell and relied on his usual comfort foods.

He had no intention of being excessively selfish, but he thought that asking the kitchen staff to recreate certain foods as best they could might not be a bad idea. When he had mentioned it, Aura had left a strong impression on him by saying he could ask as he wished, with an extremely wide smile.

Once he had started working back home, he had rarely eaten snacks, but it was hard to ignore that the pseudo potato chips made him feel like he was back home.

“I’m glad they use sugar here, at least. Maybe I should introduce some new sweets?” he wondered. “Oh, but I don’t think you can get dairy products here, aside from eggs. So it’d have to be sweets that don’t use milk or butter... Umm, did I bring any recipes like that?”

Capua was close to a tropical rainforest, so the livestock consisted mostly of drakes. By definition, reptiles didn’t produce milk. While they also laid eggs, reptile eggs were very different from bird eggs.

Of course, back on Earth, the equatorial regions of Africa and India had similar climates, but they reared cows and pigs as a matter of course, so it wasn’t as if farming mammals was impossible. Indeed, there were regions like the royal palace where they had succeeded in domesticating chicken-like birds. The lack of mammal farming here on the Southern Continent was less to do with the climate and more related to the ecosystem and established practices.

“If I got hold of milk somehow, could I make a centrifuge and use it to create butter and cream, maybe? Agh, it’s not like I brought an oven, though, so it’d be tough to make sweets myself, even with the right ingredients.”

With seven years of living alone under his belt, between uni and work, he knew only the basics. His repertoire consisted almost entirely of curry, stew, meat hash, and rice, along with fried rice and stir fry. Also, he wouldn’t exactly be welcome in the kitchen as a male royal. Considering the maids’ responsibilities, he should probably assume that cooking on his own wasn’t an option.

“That means I’ll have to have them show me the ingredients, then give the recipe to the kitchen staff if I think of something they can recreate,” he murmured, munching on his banana chips as he put on a DVD to kill some time.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

That night, after eating and bathing, Zenjirou and Aura spent their time in a single room together, with no one else around.

“So, you wish to move around enough that you remain fit?” Aura asked him.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it. How about it? Can I turn the courtyard or a room in the inner palace into a gym?”

The two of them were sitting side by side on the sofa, each of their arms around the other’s shoulder as they spoke. The topic of conversation was his earlier idea to exercise and stay healthy. He was the lord of the inner palace, so he could just have a room tidied up and use it to juggle the ball, or he could dribble it around the courtyard, but it showed how little he felt like the inner palace was his by asking Aura for such things.

“Hmm, I am unaware of this ‘soccer’ exercise you speak of, but if you merely wish to stay in shape, have you considered martial arts? I see no reason you should not learn the ten arts,” she suggested, picking up a banana chip from the bowl.

“The ten arts?” he echoed.

“Indeed,” Aura explained, “it refers to the ten types of skills that warriors should learn: running, spearmanship, bowmanship, mounted combat, climbing, swimming, wilderness survival, the shot put, swordsmanship, and unarmed combat. Of course, very few even among the knights master all of them. The necessities are running, spearmanship, and bowmanship, with knights also focusing on mounted combat. One or two of the remaining arts are usually learned as supplementary skills.”

“Huh...” Zenjirou said, contemplating. Maybe they were similar to what the ancient Japanese knew as the “Eighteen Arms of Wushu?” He didn’t think he could learn them now that he was in his twenties, but there was a certain appeal to the idea. However, after giving it some thought, he had a question. “It sounds interesting, but who’d be teaching me?”

“I imagine I would select a capable instructor from the army,” Aura answered, helping herself to another chip.

Zenjirou’s expression shifted to one of resignation before he shook his head firmly. “Yeah, that won’t work. It’d be a guy, right? So I’d have to leave the inner palace for that and might end up causing trouble. Besides, even if it’s just for martial arts, a student-teacher relationship seems risky.”

He thought back to his mentor when he’d been in the soccer club at school. Even though the man had only been their adviser, seeing a teacher in town had made him straighten up reflexively. For someone teaching him martial arts, the effect would be even stronger. It was all too likely that people would try to use that relationship as a method to ingratiate themselves. Octavia’s instruction in magic and manners was more than enough on that front.

Aura couldn’t hide a pained smile at his reply. “Zenjirou, you are aware you need not be so considerate with all that you do, are you not? I do intend for you to live at least a bit more freely than that.”

He scratched his cheek at that before answering. “I mean, not wanting to cause you trouble is part of it, but it’s more selfish. Essentially, it’s interesting, but not enough to cause myself the trouble to do it.”

Aura remained silent for a while, looking into his eyes as he sat next to her. Eventually, however, she seemed to decide there was no falseness to his words and nodded. “Very well. In that case, I shall not insist. Regardless, if you wish to learn martial arts without involving yourself with troublesome people or leaving the inner palace, I can teach you myself when I have the time.”

Zenjirou’s eyes shot wide open. “Huh? You will?”

Aura scooped up a handful of the chips. “I will, although I have only learned the base three along with mounted combat and swordsmanship.”

It made sense, now that Zenjirou thought about it. She had lived through a period of strife, so it was hardly unusual that she had learned a few forms of combat. “Whoa, that’s amazing,” he said, his eyes sparkling, “I’d love that when you’re free.”

“Very well, leave it in my hands,” she replied with a nod of satisfaction, scooping up another handful of bananas.

For a while, the only sound was the crunching as she ate. At some point, the chips, which had originally been piled high in the bowl, had vanished enough that you could see the bottom. Zenjirou, as it happened, had only eaten a small amount. As Aura reached for the bowl again, he was forced to intervene.

“Say, beloved,” he addressed her.

“Yes, my dear?” She turned to look at him, the chips still in her hand.

He hesitated for a moment, and then forged on ahead. “I’m happy you like the snacks so much, but you should probably stop there for now. They use more fat than it looks like, and I’m worried about you.”

The huge bowl had been quite full, and the chips were too high in calories to eat so many as a snack.

“Oh? Yes, I may have eaten too many now that you mention it.” She finally withdrew her hand.

Zenjirou got up and took out a damp towel from the fridge, which he handed to her. “Here, for the grease,” he explained.

“Ah, my thanks.”

“Is it because you didn’t finish dinner? You shouldn’t stuff yourself with junk like this.”

Her husband was, shockingly, almost scolding her. She finished wiping her hands and shrugged languidly.

“I have no good reply; the fish almost tasted of mud to me.”

The Capuan Kingdom was vast and did have coasts, but the center of the kingdom was far inland, so the fish served in the palace was almost exclusively river-caught. There was a general trend for freshwater fish to have a muddier flavor than those caught at sea, but Zenjirou couldn’t help but look askance at her.

“Huh, really? I didn’t think today’s tasted particularly bad.”

He had only eaten saltwater fish in Japan, so he wasn’t too fond of freshwater ones. He would have expected to notice the foul taste Aura had intimated long before her, considering how familiar she was with the local seafood.

Despite that, he was aware that one’s senses changed along with the condition of one’s body, so he assumed that his sense of taste had been dulled due to the lingering effects of the illness and didn’t question it further.

“I am not even overly fond of fried foods with strong tastes and a surplus of oils. Yet I could not stop myself,” she confided as she carefully wiped the grease from her hand.

Zenjirou didn’t buy it. “You ate almost a whole bowl. Saying you’re not fond of them doesn’t sound all that convincing.” He returned to his seat next to her.

“Well, I am aware of that myself,” she argued, pouting unhappily at him, “but it is the truth. If I had to say one way or another, I do not like these strong-tasting, oily foods. I do not hate them, but they are not something I would actively eat... or so I thought.”

“Sure, sure, we’ll leave the rest for tomorrow,” he said, covering the wooden bowl as he did.

“Mgh...” She wasn’t happy about it but was aware that she had no real argument, so she let it go and changed the topic. “Ah, that reminds me, I entrusted our wedding rings to Princess Isabella so that they can be made into magic tools. I also had her appraise the marbles and beads, giving her one as thanks. I apologize for doing so whilst you were on your sickbed.”

It was a more blatant subject change than she would usually resort to, but Zenjirou didn’t make a hobby of teasing his wife and followed the flow of the conversation without complaint.

“Oh, it’s fine. I only brought them in case there was an issue with the summoning. I said you could do whatever you wanted with them, didn’t I?”

“You did indeed. I shall take you at your word, then. However, the marbles were of a higher value than we anticipated. I believe you must be made aware of this, being their owner.”

Aura’s expression had regained some of its seriousness as they sat back on the sofa, and she told him at length about what had happened with the princess.

“Hmmm, fifty gold for a single marble?” he asked. That was the one part of the conversation he just couldn’t wrap his head around. “I know a single gold is worth a hundred silvers or so, right? I don’t know the economy here, though, so the number doesn’t mean much.”

Since Zenjirou wasn’t from this world, and the time he’d spent here had been spent almost entirely shut away within the inner palace, he had no experience in shopping or eating out. He had put the regional tax calculations into his spreadsheet program, so he understood the basic currency, but it had no concrete meaning to him, if he was being honest.

“Fifty gold would just barely be able to buy a home that a lower-class noble wouldn’t be ashamed of. It is a staggering amount for a single jewel.”

“A whole house? That’s astounding,” he said in awe, finally understanding her shock now that he had a better example. A house is a few dozen million yen, right? Although, land and property might not be worth the same as in modern Japan, I guess.

Still, he told himself that all he really needed to know was that it was far past his expectations, and he put the specifics aside for the time being. “I expected the value of things to change a bit between worlds, but it’s surprising to hear that its value is so high.”

“So, these ‘marbles’ are not particularly expensive in your world?” the queen asked him, her curiosity clear.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cheap,” he replied easily. “They’re kid’s toys, to be honest: about ten yen for the cheapest, and thirty for the most expensive. Ah, yen is the currency we use. I don’t think you can convert between them easily, because the cost of living is different here, but a newly built house would be about ten million yen.”

Aura ran the calculation quickly in her head. “That would mean you could buy two of these for a single copper.”

If you were to calculate the conversion by comparing a laborer’s wages, the cost of staple foods like rice and wheat, how much an average meal cost, or various other methods, you would get different factors. You couldn’t simply say that one copper was equivalent to twenty yen, but it worked well enough as a rough comparison. If one marble cost about ten yen there, and fifty gold here, a simple calculation led to an increase of about a million times.

“Yeah, that’s why I was so surprised. If we could make marbles here, we’d be billionaires, wouldn’t we? Or maybe not, since scarcity is a big part of this kind of thing. If we made loads, we’d crash the market and be right back where we started.”

Zenjirou chattered on, but Aura had stopped really hearing his words. What he had told her had been such a shock that she’d almost stopped thinking altogether as she reached over and grabbed her husband’s arm.

“Aura?”

“Wait a moment, what did you just say? If we were to make those marbles?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said?” he responded hesitantly, pressing back into the sofa, slightly overwhelmed by the glint in her eyes as she held onto him.

Zenjirou was clearly pulling back, but Aura was in a rare state where she could afford no spare attention for that kind of thing. With a deadly serious expression on her face, she moved closer.

“They are not minerals?” she asked. “They aren’t naturally occurring deposits like crystals or agate that are then shaped?”

“Um, no, they’re glass. You make them by mixing sand and lime and stuff.”

“Sand and lime... do you know how to make them?”

He was well aware of her expectations now and reseated himself properly on the sofa as he shook his head.

“No way. Glassmaking has been around since ancient times, so it can probably be done here too, but you need specific knowledge and skills, so a layman like me can’t just make it myself.”

“I see. So, it is not that convenient, is it?” She slumped against the cushions, still holding his arm with both of her hands.

An unavoidable sense of guilt assailed Zenjirou at seeing his wife so saddened, and he reflexively tried to comfort her. “I’m sure I recorded a glassmaking contest on one of the DVDs I brought. I don’t think watching it would let us reproduce it, but do you want to have a look?”

Her reaction was dramatic. “I do!” she immediately cried.

“Sure thing, I’ll get it set up,” he offered, his wife’s strong grip finally releasing him as he stood to get the video ready.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

A few minutes later, Zenjirou and Aura were shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, facing the TV as it displayed a program he had recorded ages ago. A male idol group had to make a village from scratch, competing in things like farming or crafting. Zenjirou selected the episode where the competition focused on glassmaking and hit “Play.”

He sat there next to Aura, who was watching the screen with a look of extreme focus. He used the remote to pause it multiple times, translating and explaining what the contestants and narrator were saying. After all, the recorded words were not subject to the soul of words, so if he didn’t translate, she would have no idea what was being said.

“Umm, glass melts at over thirteen hundred degrees, so they need to make a special furnace that can withstand the heat out of firebricks.”

“Oh-hoh, I see. Those firebricks sound rather valuable themselves. How hot does it get?”

“Umm, when they were doing metalworking they said that cast iron melts at twelve hundred, so a hundred degrees hotter than melting impure, hard iron.”

“What?! Higher than you need to melt iron? There are no furnaces capable of that on the Southern Continent.”

“So there are elsewhere?”

“Yes, the Northern Continent is most advanced in metalworking, and I have heard that they possess the techniques to melt and cast iron. Here, all ironwork is done via forging, and the only metals we can cast are those such as copper and tin.”

“Huh, so there’s a technological disparity here too.”

Aura was watching the screen attentively, but her face grew harsher with each explanation from him.

“What was that just now?” she demanded.

“Well, normal clay isn’t good enough for firebricks, so they’re powdering broken ones and mixing it with the clay to make them.”

“So, how are firebricks made when broken ones are unattainable?”

“Beats me?”

With Aura’s mood progressively worsening, they continued the DVD. After a time, she again asked for an explanation quite sharply, clearly frustrated by his answers.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it takes a pretty high temperature to fire firebricks, so they made a special kiln for them.”

“And what are those kilns made from?”

“Firebricks from somewhere else.”

“So, when you cannot obtain them from somewhere else, where do you fire firebricks?”

“Beats me?” he said again.

He continued to translate more timidly as his wife grew increasingly annoyed. But he was stumped even in the face of her anger. It was nothing more than an entertainment show, not a manual for how to create glass from scratch. The process wasn’t so simple that you could replicate it just from the basic images being shown. He had told her that before they’d even started, but it seemed his warning hadn’t really landed. She’d probably been overwhelmed by the possibility of creating such materials.

Well, he could understand her displeasure. Hearing that firebricks were made using the powder from other firebricks, and fired in a kiln also made of firebricks made Zenjirou want to pass some kind of snarky comment himself. It was basically telling you that to make firebricks, you needed firebricks, which was a little absurd.

“So, they must have used a method that did not require firebricks to make the first ones, correct? Do they not use that method in this ‘program’?”

“They don’t.”

“Ugh...”

Her emotions were on her sleeve for once, and Zenjirou patted her back with his free hand. “Calm down, dear.”

“Impossible, honey.”

“Whoa, there.”

“Rawr!”

Seeing as she played along with his cheekiness, she probably wasn’t completely mad.

“Well, if it’s not going to be useful, want to just leave it there?” he asked, eyeing the clock.

Aura considered for a moment then shook her head. “No, we started it, so let us complete it. We might still make a breakthrough.”

“I doubt it,” he muttered under his breath. The time on the clock was when he would usually be retiring to the bedroom with her. He had been sleeping alone for the duration of his illness, and had been rather looking forward to their first night back together, but at this rate, he might be stuck waiting until tomorrow.

Well, whatever, it’s not like she’s going anywhere.

“So, continue if you would, honey.”

“Right, dear,” Zenjirou answered with a sarcastic smile in her blind spot.

He put his arm around his beloved’s shoulder and tightened his grip as he continued to translate the program.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Noon the next day found Aura sitting quietly in front of the royal physician, Doctor Michel, her voluptuous chest bared.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, can you feel anything when I press here?”

“I can; it seems a little tight.”

“And here?”

“No, nothing unusual there.”

The aged man was palpating her sensuous body. At a glance, it was rather lascivious, but Aura’s bearing was too imposing to be alluring, and the doctor was focused on his work. Eventually, he nodded, having completed his examination.

“Very well, my queen, you can cover yourself again.”

“So, Doctor Michel, did you discover anything?” she asked, tying the string on her dress’s shoulder.

Michel frowned for a moment, then answered in kind. “Your Majesty, permit me one more question. Have you experienced any issues after first waking, perhaps something like a fever?”

“I have, in fact. I also feel my vision swim when I stand from a chair.”

“Have you noticed any changes to your senses of taste or smell in the past several days?”

“Yes, the fish tasted foul and I found myself wanting to eat stronger food than I would usually prefer.”

“And perhaps you have felt some tightness in your abdomen?”

“Indeed, although I had not noticed it until your examination.”

“And it has been two months since your last monthly cycle.”

“It has, although my cycle is irregular to begin with. During the war, I once went for over half a year with nothing.”

Aura’s eyes as she answered him were filled with a light of expectation. She had called him because she felt unwell, but his questions meant that she was fairly sure of what he would say.

Pregnancy... That was what the aging doctor would assume was the cause of her issues. It was a natural conclusion, come to think of it. Zenjirou and Aura had been lying with one another for months now; there was nothing odd about them conceiving. Aura was the last surviving member of the Capuan royal family, so birthing an heir was both her duty and desire.

“What is your opinion, Doctor?” she asked, leaning forward.

Michel cleared his throat with a cough before answering. “I cannot say for certain, but my examination would suggest there is a strong possibility that you have conceived. However, should this be the case, you are entering the period of pregnancy where it can most easily go awry. Please take care.”

This world had no pregnancy tests, so it was hard to confirm with any certainty until the stomach began to show, especially for women like Aura who already experienced irregular periods. While he made no firm assertions, Aura could feel a fair amount of certainty in his statement and broke into a wide smile.

“Oh, I see! To think the change in my tastes would be due to pregnancy! I had thought I would wish to eat fruits in that case.”

“That is indeed a common alteration in people’s tastes, but every woman is different. There are those like yourself who prefer oily, strong-tasting food, and those who prefer sweeter foods. Some more extreme examples include women who crave alcohol, and those that are hardest to deal with, the women who wish to not eat anything at all, combined with their morning sickness.”

“Judging from your tone, I should avoid alcohol while pregnant?”

Even without a significant change to her preferences, Aura was quite fond of alcohol, so her mouth twisted as she asked.

Michel’s gentle expression tightened at that as he answered. “Of course. There are other things you should consider. Regardless, the alcohol you drink each day is...”

“Very well, very well. For my child, I shall abstain entirely. Instruct me as you wish,” she said with a reluctant smile, her hands up in surrender.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

“Huh? You’re pregnant?! Really?!”

Zenjirou’s first reaction when his wife told him of her pregnancy was shock. He then leaped—quite literally, not metaphorically—from the sofa and rushed over to where she was waiting with a smile by the door. He stopped a short distance away and looked at her stomach. Aura, a pleased smile still on her lips, stroked her belly with her right hand before slowly walking over to the sofa.

“Well, it is not yet certain, but the possibility is high,” she explained. “I have an irregular cycle, so Doctor Michel is unable to say definitively. Of course, with such a high probability, we shall proceed under the assumption that there is indeed a child growing within me. I feel that it may well restrict you greatly, but I ask for your cooperation.”

“Of...of course, I’ll do whatever I can,” he stammered, although like most men, he didn’t yet feel like a father and couldn’t seem to keep still.

Zenjirou would normally be quite relaxed, sitting down next to Aura, seemingly without a care in the world, but now his face was tense as he settled on the opposite sofa. While yesterday he had put his arm around her without thinking about it and put himself on top of her in bed, it suddenly felt like she might break.

Even as she smiled at his obvious unease, she didn’t urge him to move next to her as she usually would. After all, this was her first experience with pregnancy as well, and while people’s emotions shouldn’t necessarily be compared, she was perhaps even more nervous than he was.

“Frankly, I do not know what I should do, either, so I have no instructions to give you just now.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense. Still, a baby, huh?”

He had been prepared for this. The main reason Aura had sought him out was to continue her bloodline, so it would have been strange if he hadn’t expected it to happen. But now that it had, he didn’t know how to articulate his feelings. A mix of joy and unease weighed upon him heavily. He was certainly happy, but there was also a tension that made him feel like he wanted to sprint away.

Zenjirou gripped his hands together on his lap, stiff and cold with nerves. He rubbed his palms together to get warmth back into his chilled fingers, continuing the conversation to hide his nervousness.

“So, I guess we shouldn’t sleep together for now. Obviously, we shouldn’t keep our nighttime activities up, but I toss and turn a bit in my sleep too.”

The bed they shared was enormous—it nearly seemed bigger than an inner-city apartment to him—but the two of them slept close together in the center. There had been several occasions where Zenjirou had woken up with an arm or leg splayed out across her. That alone seemed unlikely to cause a miscarriage, but he wanted to avoid even the slightest possibility.

Aura’s face, which had so far been fixed in a smile, twitched at his statement. Her smile vanished and her face morphed into a serious expression as she addressed him slowly.

“It’s true Doctor Michel did say there was some risk in sharing our quarters while the pregnancy is uncertain.”

Her tone was questioning as she spoke, but it was slight, and he had so forgotten himself in the wave of emotions that he didn’t notice.

“So, we can’t sleep together. There’s no other option tonight... we’ll just sleep in separate rooms. But I guess I’ll have a bed moved in around noon tomorrow, and I’ll sleep in there,” he suggested, thinking that they could at least share the room even though they couldn’t share a bed or have sex.

It was an awfully attractive proposal, but Aura was the queen before she was Zenjirou’s wife, and she couldn’t immediately agree.

“Are you truly willing to do so?” she asked, her face still quite sober.

“Huh?” he said dumbly, not understanding her meaning.

She examined him closely in the bright LED light, looking to ferret out any sign of falsehood as she questioned him more directly. “If you are to still invite me to your quarters, that would mean you have no plan to call upon any other women even whilst I am pregnant, would it not?”

Putting it so bluntly meant that even Zenjirou’s dulled mind could understand what she meant. He was implying that he wouldn’t lay a hand on another woman while she was pregnant.

Oh, yeah, I guess I am a royal, so I’d normally have a wife other than Aura, wouldn’t I?

He’d learned that the men of the Capuan royalty rarely had a single wife. At present, his primary duty was to provide a legitimate heir to the royal bloodline, so they had been left alone as husband and wife, but while Aura was pregnant and they were unable to have sex, there would certainly be women making their moves, or rather influential nobles would be presenting women as potential concubines.

Zenjirou quickly understood his position, and his eyebrows lowered into a frown as he replied almost sharply, “I couldn’t look at other women while my wife has my child inside her. Besides, I probably won’t be able to think about anything other than you and the baby until it’s born.”

He was exaggerating somewhat, but about eighty percent of it was the truth. While he might be worried now, it would be a long time before she gave birth, so it was excessive to say he would be worried until then. But he was sure that if he took a concubine into his bed, Aura’s face would end up at the front of his mind even then. It was currently just an assumption, but it was one that he was fairly sure of.

Aura had to stop her face from relaxing at his words, which sounded much like an ardent declaration of love to her. “The issue is that once my pregnancy is confirmed, the influential nobles will undoubtedly take action, and there is more legitimacy to their actions than your refusal.”

“Well, yeah, I get that... But, you said you wanted me to be more ‘selfish,’ right? Would you accept it as selfishness if I said I didn’t want that?”

This was the first time her husband had shown any desire to be selfish after being so aware of Aura’s position and yet remaining unfailingly passive. She had never expected that his assertiveness would take the form of refusing a concubine. The declaration engendered a warm joy in her that spread right to her bones, but she couldn’t hide her bafflement.

“Are you truly so against it to go that far?”

Zenjirou adjusted himself on the dark leather and looked directly at her as he nodded. “I am. If I had to choose whether I would be for or against it, I would be against it, and if I had to choose between for, against, or ambivalent, I’d still be against it. I understood there would be duties as a royal when I married you, so if refusing a concubine might cause harm to you or the country then I’ll do my best to accept it... but I don’t really know if I could.”

“Hmm, I had not thought you were so fidelitous.”

Zenjirou smiled wryly at her evaluation and waved his hand. “Nah, it’s not like I’m that chaste. I mean, I had a girlfriend for a year in the past, and if you’d summoned me then, I’d have dropped her for you, I think. And if I could go between worlds easily, I might have even two-timed you both, so I’m not necessarily ‘fidelitous’ like you said; it’s just me being selfish. I don’t want someone I don’t even like being pushed into our relationship and straining it when things are going so well between us.”

His denial was somewhat overly self-deprecating.

“It would not strain our relationship. I would, of course, not enjoy the thought of you with another woman, but I am aware enough of my duties to hide such feelings,” she disagreed reluctantly.

“It’d strain it for me,” he pouted. “I’m not shameless enough to have an affair at night and then have the nerve to ask after our child during the day.”

“Hmm...” she murmured, having no better reply.

He was even more against it than she had expected. Frankly, she hadn’t expected him to be against the suggestion at all. Their daily life aside, it was bizarre for a royal in the direct line not to take a concubine while his legal wife was pregnant.

Interesting... I had simply assumed that my husband would share our values despite being from another world, and I did not even realize it, she thought, keenly aware once again that he did not have a typical Capuan background.

You could say that she had been spoiled by him. She had grown used to him understanding her position and accepting her suggestions without any detailed explanations or persuasions, so she couldn’t deny it.

Curses. I told him to be more selfish while actually expecting him to do no such thing...

She closed her eyes in self-recrimination and sighed slightly. While it was in an unexpected fashion, he had finally spoken up for his own benefit, and she would rather grant his desire, to say nothing of the fact that he was refusing a concubine, which was something she welcomed emotionally.

But how realistic was it? Given the current balance of power among the nobles, would they even be able to brush aside the subject of concubines? In the worst case, it would be taken as Aura being selfish, not Zenjirou. And that was by no means a small possibility. Considering their positions, Aura would be the one refusing them, not him. If people misunderstood that as her ignoring his wishes, it would be a significant, although perhaps not fatal, blow to her reputation.

She finally opened her eyes and spoke calmly to him. “Very well, I shall follow your wishes as much as can be done; that I will promise you. However, I am the queen, and if there is an agreement between families or an unforgivably high cost to the country if I were to refuse, I may have to ignore those wishes. Please prepare yourself for that... I am sorry.”

The seriousness on her face as she lowered her head made him reply with his usual gentle smile for the first time that day. “I get it. You don’t need to be so somber about it, I’m aware of the position I’m in, mentally, at least. Come on, cheer up. Sadness is bad for the baby.”

She raised her head at that and her expression relaxed. “Very well. We are pressed for time, so let us leave things there for today,” she said, standing.

Zenjirou looked at her in bemusement for a moment before realizing what she meant. They wouldn’t be sharing a bed from tonight on, and there wasn’t time to prepare another in their room yet, so they would be sleeping in separate quarters. The suggestion that it would be all right for only a single night made its way to his throat, but he swallowed the words back down and stood up. His most important duty was to do all he could to help her give birth without incident. Interfering with that was something he refused to allow.

“Right, take care, then, and try to keep your stomach warm.”

“I know. Doctor Michel told me everything. I cannot drink, I cannot take long baths or bathe alone, and I need to pay attention to how I sleep. I cannot begin to fathom how disappointed I shall be if, after all these restrictions, I am not truly pregnant.”

“Ahaha, it’s important. For you and the baby.”

As they talked, Zenjirou walked her to the door. The six lights were set up around the sofas in the middle of the room, facing inward, so the area outside them was dark.

“Until tomorrow, then,” she said, turning back to her husband as she opened the door.

“Yeah, good night,” he answered, accepting her embrace and putting his arms gently around her, enveloping her sensuous body in a hug and giving her a chaste kiss.

“Ngh...”

“Mm... ngh... Good night.”

They briefly enjoyed the heat between them before she gave him a somewhat regretful smile and left the room.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Having bid her husband good night, the queen’s destination was not another bedroom but a different chamber within the palace.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” said a slender-faced man from within the gloomy room, offering a respectful nod. “How did things progress?”

“It is dark. Light more of the candles,” she answered bluntly before moving to fall heavily into her wicker chair as she usually would. She suddenly stopped, though, and softly lowered herself down instead.

“Certainly; please wait a moment.” He shifted the oil lamp to do as she’d asked.

While he was busy with that, Aura leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “I have informed my husband of the possibility of my pregnancy, and we have discussed the matter of a concubine. However, he seems to have decided to act somewhat selfishly.”

“Selfishly? That is a rarity for him. How do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing too complicated. Frankly, he’s entirely opposed to the idea of a concubine. Apparently...”

Aura continued casually, relaying the contents of her earlier conversation to the narrow-eyed secretary.

“I see. In short, he would rather share a room with you, unable to indulge in carnal pleasures, than do exactly that with another woman. My, my, you truly are adored, Your Majesty,” he replied after she had recounted her exchange with Zenjirou, with perhaps a hint of teasing in his tone.

“Indeed, and thus far I have led the happiest newlywed life that I possibly could. But that is exactly the issue, as it has led to me treating him as nothing more than ‘an understanding husband.’”

“I certainly never expected that his ‘selfishness’ would take such a form. Even I had begun to accept his understanding nature as a simple fact,” he nodded, his expression vanishing instantly at her comment. “And yet, to think there would be a man so besotted by you that he would see a concubine as a needless hindrance.”

“Fabio,” she returned sharply, “speak plainly.”

The man gave a slight shrug but maintained his rigid posture as the queen glared at him from her seat. “It is nothing; I was merely thinking that there was no accounting for taste.”

“I don’t believe you could possibly have put that more crudely. You are far too insolent.”

“Oh? Then do you see yourself as a woman who is popular with men?”

Despite the growl and anger on her face at his provocative question, she found it difficult to object. Since the kingdom was patriarchal at heart, there was a tendency towards chauvinism, so regardless of her beauty and figure, a strong-willed woman like Aura wasn’t particularly well-regarded in areas of romance by the men of the land.

She was well aware of that, and while she had no concerns about her own appearance or personality, she couldn’t help but consider such things when she saw the typical “popular woman” like Octavia.

Recognizing her disadvantage, she gave a cough and returned to the topic at hand. “Regardless, this is a good opportunity. It would appear that I overestimated him slightly. By his own admission, he was born a commoner. While he possesses the knowledge and understanding to comprehend our situation, along with the open-mindedness and logic to act accordingly, I misjudged the fundamentals of his personality. His values differ greatly from our own.”

“It would appear so. Although among royalty and the nobility, the matter of concubines should be seen as ‘part and parcel’ of the position.”

To begin with, the word “adultery” itself was irrelevant to a royal of direct lineage. Any concubine would be considered a legitimate second wife. And who could call relations with your wife “adultery”?

“We would be asking too much to expect even that of him. He has been as understanding as he is able and considerate of my own position. I never imagined that I would be blessed with such consideration in the first place.”

“Very true,” Fabio agreed, “and yet, such a refusal will not be taken as selfishness on the part of Sir Zenjirou but on your part. The best we may hope for is that it will be taken as jealousy whereupon you are refusing to allow other women near him.”

“I... am aware of that.” She heaved a deep sigh at the painful jab, pressing two fingers to her temple.

The risk of being seen as failing to pay him his due respect was too great to ignore. That, above all else, was something she needed to avoid.

“If you wish to allow this in spite of the risks, Sir Zenjirou must bear the brunt of the disapproval and actively invite such aspersions on himself.”

In other words, Zenjirou would have to be more involved with the public to emphasize how much Aura meant to him, and demonstrate himself that he had no eyes for other women. It would mean that his reputation would suffer in order to protect hers.

“And so, I cannot avoid bringing him trouble.” She scowled, frustrated.

“There is no avoiding it,” Fabio replied coldly. “Rumors of your pregnancy have already spread throughout the palace. The nobles of note are now requesting audiences, and refusing them would bring its own troubles.”

“The news has circulated so quickly?”

She had expected the public to find out, but not that fast. It only went to show how much attention was being paid to the possibility of her pregnancy and the subsequent opening of a new position in the palace. Once the royal lineage was assured, there was no need to hesitate over the selection of concubines.

As she sighed yet again, the secretary changed the subject in an apparent bout of sudden remembrance. “Ah, speaking of audiences, Natalio Maldonado of the royal knights has requested one with Sir Zenjirou.”

“Natalio?” Aura asked, her voice rising in surprise. “That is not a name I have heard before. For what purpose does he make this request? My husband does not leave the inner palace as a rule, so outside of extenuating circumstances, I cannot approve of an audience with a man.”

“He wishes to convey his thanks for the gift of the wyvern bow and swear his fealty to Sir Zenjirou.”

“Ah, I see; the results of the incident at the banquet.”

The circumstances now refreshed in her mind, she could see that it was inevitable. The tribute of a wyvern bow had been redirected by Zenjirou, and he had asked the donor, General Pujol, to entrust it to someone worthy of its strength. It would seem the general had done exactly that and given it to a knight who showed promise. A knight, when presented with a bow equivalent to a fifth of the value of a dash drake in battle, would naturally wish to convey his gratitude.

“So, will this Natalio be problematic? I do believe my husband decreed that it be entrusted to a knight with a strong sense of loyalty to the royal family, did he not?” she asked, her shoulders tensing.

If the knight’s loyalty was to the general rather than the royal household, they could not possibly allow an audience. But the secretary flatly refuted her suggestion.

“I believe even the general is aware of that. While the status of the young man’s house is certainly low, the Maldonado family have long been staunch supporters of the royal line. The knight in question is beyond reproach, so I believe there will be no problems with him meeting Sir Zenjirou. Of course, receiving the bow is a sign of the general’s regard, but I doubt this particular knight would be so easily swayed.”

“Your wording suggests more, though. If there is no issue with Natalio himself, do you have other concerns related to him?”

Fabio nodded. “As you have discerned, that is the case. The knight has a younger sister of an appropriate age. Her name is Kate, and there are no issues with her personality. She is relatively beautiful, wise, and similarly loyal to the royal family. However, she works within the inner palace.”

Aura shared his concerns upon hearing that. Her face twisted as if she had eaten a lemon as the secretary continued.

“From what I have heard, Sir Zenjirou has an exceedingly friendly relationship with the maids of the inner palace. I would imagine this young woman would be quite willing to convey her brother’s gratitude. I do hope they do not grow too close.”

General Pujol’s aims were as clear as ever. A knight loyal to the crown, with a sister who was equally loyal... With the knight in the fold, and the sister growing closer to Zenjirou, the general would have formed a potentially strong connection, albeit an indirect one, with the royal family.

“Where is this knight stationed?”

“He was originally with the city guard but has since been transferred to the Drake Marksmen Knights under General Pujol’s command.”

His reply was exactly as she had feared. Someone had been granted a wyvern bow and then been transferred to the elite Drake Marksmen. Ostensibly, there was no issue with the process, but in actuality, the general’s ulterior motives were as clear as day to her.

“So, he has forsaken his goal of making his sister my husband’s concubine?”

“No, the general himself has requested an audience as well, so that seems unlikely. I believe he intends to pursue both avenues.”

“As shameless as ever...”

The past few months had seen Pujol behave far more mildly around her, so Aura had hoped his ambitions had calmed to an extent, but it would seem the hungry wolf remained unsated.

“Truly, how vexing,” she murmured with a sigh.

“My sympathies,” Fabio answered, giving a courteous bow.