Prologue — In Another World for His First Weekend Off in Six Months

“Welcome, my groom. Allow me to first offer my apologies for bringing you to my palace without any prior warning. I hope such an action can be forgiven,” said a woman, smiling sweetly.

She was absolutely striking, with red hair and tawny skin.

“Um... what?”

The person she was addressing—a man by the name of Yamai Zenjirou—simply muttered a half-witted noise in response, completely unable to grasp the situation.

What on Earth’s going on? Zenjirou thought to himself. The last he remembered, it was a Saturday... One that he was, for once, not spending at work. He had woken up at his usual time to make sure that he got the most out of his day off—such days being a rare occurrence since he’d started working. He had gotten on his bike and ridden to the nearby convenience store to grab some breakfast. That much he remembered.

In fact, his backside was still atop the seat of his bike, and his hands were tightly gripping the handlebars. The basket on the front held a fried chicken meal that he’d heated up at the store, along with a half-liter bottle of chilled tea.

Zenjirou wasn’t sure if he was going crazy, so he reached out and checked the temperatures of both items. The food was hot, and the drink was cold. The realistic sensations made him feel more certain that this was no dream. It also let him know, seeing as the food had not yet cooled down nor the tea warmed up, that he had not, in fact, lost consciousness and had instead been moved somewhere instantaneously.

He’d been pedaling through Kanto in Japan until mere moments ago. How was he suddenly in some gloomy stone room, being smiled at by a beautiful woman?

He observed the figure in front of him fixedly. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, he thought, though she had a stronger bearing and appeared calmer than most of that age, so she might be a little older. At the very least, it seemed she was older than Zenjirou’s own twenty-four years of age.

She was wearing a sensuous red dress with a plunging neckline, opening up in a V down her chest, but her own form certainly didn’t lose out to the eye-catching clothing. The valley of her breasts visible through that V boasted a chest more worthy of the moniker “huge breasts” than just simply “big ones,” and her waist was as narrow as her chest was prominent.

The lines of her body from the waist down were hidden by the flowing skirt of her gown, so he couldn’t tell for sure, but her legs were probably just as attractive. She had wide, almost square shoulders that some men might not find to their liking, but Zenjirou was well aware of her more womanly charms.

If he had been certain that he was currently dreaming, he would have leaped forward and yelled, “Where have you been all my life?!” That was how perfectly his type she was.

“Your Majesty, there is not much time. Now that the summoning has proven to be a success, it may be best to explain things as quickly as possible,” a young man clad in leather armor suggested monotonously from the woman’s side, while Zenjirou remained captivated by her beauty.

It was that statement that first made Zenjirou realize that he and the woman weren’t alone in the room. He hurriedly surveyed his surroundings and saw four men outfitted in the same way, armed with spears, surrounding him as he sat on the bike. There was also an elderly man wearing purple robes and leaning on a long staff.

His failure to have noticed the others in the room wasn’t because Zenjirou was unobservant. No, it was because the red-headed woman before him was just that imposing. Now that he looked at the armed men, he could see that they were well built and not exactly bad looking themselves, but when placed beside her, they were “extras to the queen” at best.

More than anything, this might all be thanks to what was termed “charisma,” and as he considered that, the woman nodded slightly and looked him in the eye, addressing him.

“Very well. Now, my groom, I am sure you do not understand why you find yourself in a place like this. Would you permit me an explanation and an apology for these circumstances?”

“What? Ah, y-yeah,” Zenjirou nodded, more at the force behind her smile than in understanding of her words.

The woman’s smile deepened at his meek reply. “Good. In that case, a gloomy place such as this is ill-suited to a lengthy discussion. It would be best to change locales. I would like for you to follow me.”

With those words, the woman turned, sending her wavy red hair billowing around, and walked off.

“We shall take care of your vehicle here,” a guard said gruffly.

“Ah, y-yeah, thanks.”

Still completely at a loss, he swung himself off the bike, automatically put the kickstand down out of habit, and locked it with a key from his pocket before hurrying after the stunning stranger, who was now standing at the entrance and watching him over her shoulder.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Zenjirou was guided down a long corridor with stone walls and floors, into a large room with bright sunlight streaming in. There were two big leather sofas and a long wooden table between them, set up to allow for a comfortable discussion.

Following her gesture, he sat on one sofa. Once she had seen him seated, she settled down on the couch opposite him and began to speak calmly.

“Let us begin with introductions. I am Aura Capua. I would like for you to call me Aura.”

“Ah, sure, Aura it is, ma’am. I’m, uh, my name’s Yamai Zenjirou. Yamai is my family name, and Zenjirou is my first name.”

“Hmm, then may I call you Sir Zenjirou?”

“Yes, okay,” he agreed, earning a smile from the woman—Aura.

“My thanks, Sir Zenjirou. Now, I shall inform you of what has been done to you, explaining the chain of events simply. It may well be that this explanation displeases you, but it is not too late for the changes to be reversed. Should the circumstances not be to your liking, I swear on my honor that all shall be reverted to what it was. Therefore, would you listen in silence for the moment?”

Her expression turned quite serious as she prefaced her explanation with that rather worrying assurance. Zenjirou had a bad feeling but nodded in assent after a brief moment of thought. He had no idea what sort of situation he was in. Supposing he had the right to be angry like she said, he couldn’t very well feel that way without understanding exactly what there was to be angry about. You could only put in a complaint after listening to everything your trade partner had to say, after all.

“I understand; please continue.”

Aura let out a sigh of relief at his answer before taking a deep breath and beginning her explanation. “My thanks. First, allow me to start with the fundamentals of where you are. This is the Kingdom of Capua, situated in the west of Randlion, also called the Southern Continent. This room itself is inside the royal palace, in the capital of that country. You may not know these names. That is only natural, as this is a different world from that in which you were raised—a ‘Parallel World,’ if you will.”

“Uh... huh? A parallel world?”

With a sideways glance at Zenjirou, taking in his utter incomprehension, Aura continued steadily. Her explanation continued for a good while. He didn’t know how long they sat there for, but when he’d glanced at his watch about halfway through, it had been half past seven, and the hands had made their way around to eight o’clock by the time they were finished.

Zenjirou worked through everything he had been told over the past hour or so, and summed it up dazedly. “Um... so, we’re in a country called the Capua Kingdom, in a parallel world, and you’re this country’s queen, milady? Also, this world has magic, and you used a type of magic only the Capua royal family can, called ‘space-time magic,’ to summon me here from my own world.”

“Indeed, you are correct on all counts. It would seem you now understand what has happened. Also, you need not be so respectful with me. Titles and such are unnecessary; you may simply call me Aura. I am indeed this country’s queen, but you are not one of my subjects. In fact, I have taken you from your world without warning, and might well be as a tyrant to you. You have no current obligation to refer to me as such,” she said, giving a short, apologetic incline of her head.

“R-Right. Understood, Aura... ma’am,” Zenjirou replied, wrenching his eyes away from the glance he had stolen at Aura’s plentiful breasts when she bowed.

It was his inability to absorb her words that had caused such a simple explanation to take the better part of an hour. It was hardly surprising, though. Being summoned to another world was not exactly something the average human could easily accept as fact.

Aura hadn’t lost her temper at his disbelief; she’d simply continued to repeat the facts, politely but firmly. Thanks to her patience, Zenjirou had finally come to accept that he was truly in a parallel world.

The deciding factor had been the mount that a knight had brought over to the window at Aura’s order, a “dash drake.” The creature was a huge lizard, about twice the size of a horse. It had snaked its head in through the garden-side window and licked Zenjirou’s face. The warm, realistic sensation erased his doubts that this was a dream or some sort of elaborate prank.

His cheek was still damp from the dash drake’s grassy-smelling saliva. He wiped his face clean using his shirt sleeve, and voiced his doubts. “What I don’t understand is why you would summon someone like me.” He was just a normal Japanese guy with no particular skills. At the very least, he didn’t think he held enough value for another world’s queen to go out of her way to summon him. “What is it you actually want from me? I’m not proud of it, but I can’t use a sword, or magic, either.”

Aura smiled at his careful admission, shaking her head. “I have no intention of asking you to face such dangers for me. This western part of the Southern Continent may well have had a long history of war, but it is relatively peaceful nowadays. There is only one thing that I wish to ask of you. And that is for you to become my spouse.”

“Spouse?” he parroted uncomprehendingly, unable to divine the intention behind her words.

“Indeed, my spouse. You could also use the word ‘husband.’ I am asking you to marry me.”

Spouse, husband, marriage. Even Zenjirou, with his brain as frazzled as it was, could understand that.

“What?! M-M-M-Marry you? Why?!” he cried, leaping to his feet.

She seemed to have expected that response, as she simply chuckled and continued calmly, “This conversation may take a while, but please listen to what I have to say. As I explained earlier, our country was previously embroiled in a long conflict. Fortunately, we emerged as one of the winners of that conflict, but the price was steep. The population decreased, our lands were ravaged, and the royal line has died out but for myself.

“Blessedly, the ceaseless efforts of the nation and its people make our prospects better than they would otherwise be, but there is still the issue of the royal family. I am the only member, and the bloodline may soon die out. It is therefore my absolute duty to marry.

“However, the space-time magic inherent to my family is linked to our bloodline, so I cannot marry just anyone. To safeguard the magic, it would be best to partner with someone else who carries that bloodline.”

“Right, I see...” he murmured instinctively, even though he didn’t really see at all. He’d heard of the custom on Earth for royals to marry as closely as possible in order to maintain the purity of their bloodlines. And this world had a clear benefit in the form of inherent magic, so it was even more understandable.

But in that case, he felt that he understood even less. “Why me, then? I’m from Earth—I don’t know the first thing about magic,” he said frankly.

“The reasoning is simple. You carry the blood of the Capua family,” she answered, smiling meaningfully.

“I... what?”

Once more, he simply couldn’t grasp her meaning. It took more than ten seconds for him to unpack those words. Once he did manage to process them, he started waving his arms around like a broken puppet, disputing her claim.

“Wait, wait, wait, what the hell?! No, that’s not possible!” he denied profusely, but Aura merely pressed on.

“It happened five generations before me, about one hundred and fifty years ago. It has been removed even from the royal histories, so I myself do not know the full details, but I heard that it started when the first prince of our country fell in love with someone he would not ordinarily be able to marry. It is said that she was either a commoner or a member of an enemy nation’s royalty, but the truth is unknown.

“Regardless, the prince fell in love with someone he would not be allowed to marry, given his position as heir to the throne, and despite the objections from his parents, the king and queen, would not be swayed. So the lovers, who would never be able to marry in this world, left for another world where they could be together. It sounds rather romantic, don’t you think?”

At this point, Zenjirou could guess the rest of what Aura was planning to say. “You’re trying to tell me... that I’m descended from them?”

“Precisely,” she answered, maintaining her smile at his incredulity. “I did not simply perform a random summoning and hope for the best. I specifically aimed to summon a man with strong enough ties to the Capua bloodline. And you were the one who appeared. Therefore, I am quite certain that you are indeed their descendent.”

Even while a corner of his mind accepted her statements, he still had objections. “But that’s absurd. Actually, even if it were true, it was five generations ago, right?! That’d make them my, um... great-great-great-grandfather and stuff. So wouldn’t I only have inherited a tiny part of that bloodline?”

“Indeed, I was in fact prepared for such an event. However, the blood of our royal family runs rather deeply within you. While not to the same extent as a member of the main line, it would be considered exceptional for a cadet branch. Enough so that, with training, you may well become capable of space-time magic yourself,” she informed him with a slight nod.

“Y-You can tell that?” he asked, collapsing back into his seat at her earnestness.

“I can. Not whether you have the blood of royalty, but any mage can sense the latent mana potential of a person. You have a rather significant amount, Sir Zenjirou, almost to the level of royalty. There is no doubt that my summoning magic responded to the blood of the Capua running through your veins, and I would speculate that your mana levels are related to the strength of your inheritance. A pleasant miscalculation, I believe you could call it. It is almost as if the people who traveled to your world married closely to maintain the bloodline.”

“Ah, right! That... might make sense, actually,” Zenjirou exclaimed with a sudden realization prompted by her words.

“You have some inkling as to why this may be?” Aura asked, looking at him thoughtfully.

“Ah, I do. My family actually hails from a historically insular village. They used to only have one or two people marry into the village from outside each generation.”

Zenjirou had grown to dislike the unchanging, insular nature of the sticks and had gone to university in the Kanto region, found work, and started a new life in the city. But this whole discussion did remind him that many of the people of that village, including his parents before they died in a car accident during his middle school years, were rather dark-skinned for Japanese people, with redder hair than was usual as well. Zenjirou himself, in fact, had swarthy skin for a Japanese person, and his hair was a reddish-brown, just bordering on black.

Aura placed a hand to her mouth and nodded in understanding. “I see, so the isolation of the village prevented the royal bloodline from dispersing throughout that world.”

“I think so,” he agreed. “It makes sense, at least.”

For real? I’m not actually completely Japanese? I’m mostly from another world? I didn’t have a clue about that! he thought to himself, keeping a tight smile on his face as he was assailed by panic. It did make sense. Too much sense.

In contrast to Zenjirou’s strained expression at the discovery of an unexpected ancestral secret, Aura’s smile widened happily as she drew closer to him. “You are indeed the partner I desire. So, Sir Zenjirou, though you may be confused by the sudden nature of these events, would you consider living in this world and becoming my husband?”

Aura’s face turned serious, and Zenjirou calmed down a little as well as he began to think it over. Getting married to the beauty sitting before him was in and of itself not a bad proposition. As mentioned before, she was exactly Zenjirou’s type. Their conversation thus far seemed to imply that she had a good personality as well. Of course, being a monarch required the ability to present yourself a certain way, so judging her personality from the conversation alone was dangerous.

There was another problem, though. Aura’s suggestion was not for her to marry him, but for him to marry her. If Zenjirou agreed, he would be bidding farewell to Earth. However much to his liking the woman before him was, that didn’t mean he could readily abandon his job, friends, pleasures, and those cuisines that he could only enjoy back home.

Zenjirou’s mind was moving sluggishly, still thinking that all this might be a dream, and he didn’t answer immediately. After a moment, he realized that he hadn’t even touched on the most important issue yet.

“U-Um. I’m already here anyway, but what if, and this is only hypothetical, mind you, but what if I refuse? What happens then?” he asked hesitantly, his fear obvious at a glance.

She answered with a reassuring smile to put him at ease as his face paled. “In that case, as I bear the responsibility, I shall use unsummoning magic and return you to your world. I said as much initially, did I not? I believe my words were, ‘Should the circumstances not be to your liking, I swear on my honor that all shall be reverted to what it was.’ After all, I was the one to drag you into this world regardless of your wishes. If I am rejected, please rest assured that I shall at least wipe the slate clean. You should simply follow your heart and answer as you will.”

“Ah, r-right...” he let out a sigh of almost anticlimactic relief and leaned back into the sofa, his shirt clinging unpleasantly to his skin. He must have become drenched in sweat without even realizing it.

In many instances where people were summoned to parallel worlds in manga and novels, the summoner often couldn’t return them home, so the subject of the ritual normally had the choice forced upon them. It appeared, however, that Zenjirou would not be faced with such extremes. Whatever else may happen, it was fortunate that he could return if he wished. The revelation calmed his churning thoughts.

“Additionally, even if you choose to accept, I intend to briefly return you to your world first. If you are to part with your home, there will be people there that you must bid farewell to. Transferal magic is influenced by the alignment of the stars. It cannot be used freely at any time, but fortunately, the positions of the stars will be correct until tomorrow night. After that, the stars will be suitable for summoning again after one month.

“In essence, should you refuse, you will be returned home and that shall be the end of it. Should you accept, you will temporarily return home tomorrow, and I shall summon you once more a month hence.”

“Wow, you can use it that frequently?”

“No, we are merely blessed with a special alignment in the stars right now. After this month, the next opportunity will not be until thirty years have passed. There is no need to worry about it too much, but it is not the most convenient of circumstances.”

“What, no way, thirty years?!” Zenjirou sputtered, losing all semblance of formality at her answer.

That was way too long, and meant that he’d certainly be saying goodbye to Earth for good if he accepted. However, knowing that he could refuse and could return to his original world was a great help to Zenjirou’s current mental state. A person’s mind was a strange thing... If they were told it was impossible, they would want to go home more than anything, but if told they could return, they’d start to wonder if they really had to.

If everything she said is true, then it’s a pretty sweet deal. I mean, I’ve got no family, no girlfriend. Work’s... Well, it’s going, but I can’t say I’m that attached to the hundred and fifty hours of overtime every month.

Now that he actually thought about it, today was the first Saturday he’d had off in half a year. Weekdays frequently had him getting home after midnight, Saturdays were workdays as a matter of course, and about three Sundays per month were as well. The one saving grace was that the company did pay all the overtime worked, but he never had any chance to use that money. By the time he got home, he didn’t even have the energy to cook for himself, so his dinners on weekdays were either boxed meals from a convenience store or eaten while he was out.

Actually, it’s probably been just as long since I’ve talked to a woman outside of shopping or work, he thought. So, yeah, it’s not like I’m that attached to my life back home...

In his homeworld, he had no partner, and nothing but days full of work awaited him. In this world, an easy life and a marriage to a big-breasted beauty. When comparing the two options, his present situation could well be called “striking gold,” couldn’t it?

Those thoughts rushed through Zenjirou’s mind in an instant, but his inherent wariness put the brakes on just as quickly. Whoa, whoa, hold up. Even if everything she’s said so far is true, there must be a catch. She’s a queen, right? There have to be responsibilities that go along with marrying a queen.

Royalty were political families from birth. You often saw hedonistic princes in novels and manga, but they were a small exception, and he’d heard that most royals were busy enough that he, as a working man, could sympathize with them. If that’s what he’d be stuck with, he would probably be better off with the openly exploitative nature of his current office job.

Zenjirou took several discreet breaths and calmed his urge to decide immediately. “Umm, if I were to accept, what would my responsibilities be? A queen’s husband is still a type of royal, right?”

Aura smiled widely at the question, taking it as a good sign. “Nothing in particular,” she answered. “At any rate, I am the thirty-second ruler of the country, but in the history of the Capua Kingdom, I am only the third queen. My two predecessors both remained single for their entire lives, and the line of succession went through adoption to a child of a cadet branch with strong blood ties, and to a younger brother, who was still an infant when his sister took the throne, in those cases. In other words, Sir Zenjirou, you will be the first to marry a queen in this country’s history.”

Aura was speaking as if he had already accepted, but Zenjirou currently lacked the composure to notice it. There was something else that he needed to comment on even more.

“W-Wait a minute! Are you telling me that the rights and responsibilities of a prince consort aren’t defined at all here?” A prince consort was the queen’s spouse, though the word might not exist in this country, considering such a situation was unprecedented.

She nodded calmly in response to his flustered question. “Indeed, so the writings say. But rest assured, as you may infer from the fact that only three of the thirty-two rulers this country has had were female, we are generally a patriarchal society. Regardless of how things are in the workplace, the man is the head of the house, and it is a virtue of a woman to treat her husband with respect. Whatever form it may take, I pledge to make our marriage meet your desires to the best of my abilities.”

“R-Right...” Zenjirou stammered mindlessly at the sweet words that had just left her mouth. Her answer was far better than he’d expected, so that was the most coherent response he could manage at the moment.

If he took her words at face value, then not only would he have no further responsibilities, but Aura would do her utmost to accommodate him as well. This was way too good to be true. Even in his woolly-minded state, Zenjirou couldn’t accept it without question. It was far too convenient.

No, think it through. There’s got to be an ulterior motive here, he thought frantically in the face of those amazing conditions. They were so good that they made him want to leap into it feet-first. Besides, what does she get out of this? Continuing her bloodline? Is that really all?

Yes, if every other member of the royal family had died, Zenjirou’s strong ties would be awfully attractive. If that was the case, though, would she make it such a favorable opportunity? A family head that did nothing but procreate. Men like that were called “spongers.”

If she’s making her husband a sponger, maybe she’s got a thing for layabouts? No, no way...

If that wasn’t the case, there must be some other significant gain for her to be making this proposal. If not, she wouldn’t have immediately started with such an enticing offer, no matter how fitting Zenjirou was in regards to bloodlines.

No, I need more information. Zenjirou remembered one of the seniors at work giving him some bitter advice. “If you push a deal through without knowing it back-to-front, it’ll bite you in the ass.”

So he asked her another question. “Sorry to drag the topic back up again, but what will you do if I refuse? I can’t imagine you won’t marry, ma’am?”

“Well, in that case, I would probably invite a noble in the country with relatively strong blood ties to be my groom. Well, I say ‘strong,’ but they don’t amount to much. That’s why I went out of my way to summon you,” she said with a self-deprecating smile.

Right, so she has candidates in the country as well. I suppose that’s obvious. Hm... Wait a minute. Maybe... Let’s ask something a bit leading, he thought, another possibility coming to mind. He swallowed subtly so that Aura wouldn’t notice, and asked his next question in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“Would said candidates be those with grandparents in the royal family?”

Aura didn’t notice the leading nature of the question and simply gave a wry smile as she shook her head. “Hardly. There is no one with such strong ties to the family remaining. The closest are examples where their great-grandfather’s grandfather or, even better, their great-grandfather’s mother was in the royal family.”

Aha, bingo! he mentally yelled, hiding his surprise behind a winning poker face. His superior in the company had told him, “In business, it’s important that it’s conscious thought that controls your expressions, not your emotions.” That advice held true even in another world.

Her answer was clearly strange. To show it numerically, the case with the great-grandfather’s grandfather would mean they were five generations removed from the royal family, and four in the case with the great-grandfather’s mother.

On the other hand, there was Zenjirou’s ancestor, who was five generations removed from Aura. If, as she had said, there were survivors who were four generations removed, then there would be no reason to summon Zenjirou, who was five generations removed himself.

The village he had been raised in was insular, so he may have had very strong ties to the bloodline, but Aura couldn’t have known that before the summoning. She’d actually called it a “pleasant miscalculation.”

So, that would mean her explanation of needing to summon a groom from another world in order to bear an heir was a lie.

Then why did she summon me? Was the whole thing about wanting to marry me a trick? No, if I start doubting that, there’ll be no end to it.

Zenjirou had no way of getting back to his world on his own. With that in mind, there was no need for Aura to manipulate him with honeyed words. She could just lie and tell him that there was no way home. She was probably trying to negotiate as faithfully as she could.

In which case, I can consider both her wanting to marry me and the favorable conditions to be facts. It fits better, too. So then, why? Why would she gamble and summon a descendent of royalty that fled to another world, and give such a good deal on top of it?

“Sir Zenjirou, are you well?”

“Ah, sorry. I was just thinking. So, if I were to marry you, what would you ideally want me to do? I don’t mean legally, just what you personally would want from me.”

“Nothing in particular,” she answered pleasantly with a slight shrug. “Asking you to accept all this is also asking you to give up your home, your family, your whole life from before now. I am not shameless enough to request even more of you, all things considered. All I wish is your aid in producing an heir to the throne.”

It seemed the only real expectation would be for him to have a child with the buxom beauty before him. At least, she seemed to be earnest enough when she stated that.

“I... see...” he mumbled.

Her words were once again honeyed enough to drive a man to damnation. This time, though, Zenjirou had been prepared for her answer.

I’m right, then? Those conditions weren’t just a sweet deal to entice me but were exactly what she wanted to begin with?

He mentally sorted through the information he’d acquired so far.

There were nobles with stronger ties to the royal family than the descendant of the runaway prince.

Regardless, Aura had still taken a gamble by summoning said descendant (Zenjirou) as her groom.

It turned out that he had rather strong ties to the bloodline, but that was merely “a pleasant miscalculation.”

She told him that other than having a child with her, he could do what he wanted.

The country was a patriarchal society, and queens were a rarity.

Culturally, the husband was always the head of the family, and it was seen as a woman’s virtue to treat her husband with respect.

The few prior queens had all remained single, and this would be the first time a “prince consort” would exist in the country.

From their conversation so far, he had seen her overwhelming charisma and she seemed well qualified to be sovereign of the nation.

He continued his questioning to prove his hypothesis. “Just two more questions, please. If I moved here, where would I live?”

“Most likely within the inner palace. Historically, the king would usually take several women as his queen and concubines, so while it may be a little irregular, we would live in the inner palace.”

As he’d thought. There was little room left for doubt. He gulped and made his final query. “Then, one last question. If I shut myself up in the inner palace after we marry and have little contact with the outside world or anyone related to the palace other than you, and just spend my days lazing around, what would you think of that?”

Aura seemed unable to bear Zenjirou’s suggestion and broke into the widest smile of the day so far. “I would be most happy with that!”

That was when Zenjirou was sure he was correct on all fronts. Right, it’s all making sense. She isn’t just baiting me with the chance to do nothing. She actually wants a husband who won’t do anything. A literal sponger would, in fact, be her ideal choice.

Giving it some further thought, it wasn’t all that strange. His mistake was weighing everything against the values gained from spending his days working for the almost-sweatshop that his current employer ran. His job tired him out, so being given food, clothes, a home, and a hot wife was an attractive proposition for Zenjirou, but that wouldn’t be the prevailing view in this world.

Work for a prince consort would be nothing more than exercising his authority. Men who were uninterested in doing so would be in the minority. Even if that authority wasn’t stipulated in the local laws, a prince consort here would gain that power. The country’s very culture was focused on men, and the head of the household would be the man. Even if that man had married into the family.

If a virtue of a wife was to support her husband as much as she could, that meant the prince consort could use the fact that he was the “patriarch” to give orders to the queen herself. At the very least, if the consort were to voice an opinion in public, the queen would be unable to ignore it.

Right, a nobleman would desire power, so if they became consort, in the worst case, they might usurp her authority. And even if they didn’t go that far, they’d definitely work for their own family’s gain first and foremost.

It would create a dual-layered system of power. And if the worst should come to pass, it could divide the country and cause a civil war.

Yeah, so it makes sense she’d want to summon a groom from another world. There’s no guarantee they wouldn’t have political aspirations, but they at least wouldn’t be pulling strings for their own family. It’s worth it to her even if it only ensures they won’t use their power for their own relatives.

If you perused historical texts, you would see a great number of cases where the monarch’s spouse’s family created major issues for the country.

Aura watched him as he thought it over and asked his questions. And once she judged that he had worked through things a bit, she spoke again.

“I am aware that asking for an immediate decision on such a life-altering choice is absurd. However, as I explained earlier, the summoning magic is dependent on the stars, so we have little time. You need not answer right now, but do I ask that you make your choice by tomorrow morning.

“This has all been brought about due to my own circumstances. I swear, again, that should you refuse, no harm will befall you, and should you accept, I shall attend you as your wife as faithfully as I am able to. What are your thoughts, Sir Zenjirou?” she entreated him with a gentle smile and a solemn gaze. Actually, the word “solicited” might be more appropriate, given the context.

“Right, well...” Zenjirou said, closing his eyes and turning everything over in his mind. If his thoughts and the hypothesis he now had were correct, this was a really good deal for him. But, as Aura herself had noted, he would have to leave behind his life on Earth. He wasn’t perfect, but Yamai Zenjirou had supported himself until now, had his own morals, and lived according to them.

His job was certainly tough, and he’d often been on the verge of resigning, but he’d lived self-sufficiently so far and was proud of it. You could call that pride his “dignity” as a man.

If he were to accept her offer, it would mean throwing that dignity away and living off a woman’s support. Could he do that? Was Yamai Zenjirou’s dignity something he could discard so trivially?

If I think about it calmly, I don’t need to worry about it at all, he mused to himself. This wasn’t something he needed to spend the night fretting over. He’d long since come to a conclusion.

Steeling himself, Zenjirou opened his eyes and looked into Aura’s reddish-brown ones.

“Let’s get married!” he declared, leaning over the table.

Yes, Yamai Zenjirou’s “manly dignity” could indeed be discarded that trivially.