Chapter 2 — Princess of the Sea, Freya

“Whoa, it really was a teleport...” Zenjirou marveled as he looked out of the window.

He had been shown to his private room once he was done exchanging casual greetings with the local nobles, starting with the governor currently prostrated before him.

This was perhaps the center of the port of Valentia, the duke’s estate. It was common knowledge that the Duke of Valentia had been a post held by the reigning monarch for generations, so the official residence was used extremely rarely. The administration was centered in the neighboring estate of the governor. Even so, the duke’s residence had been perfectly prepared to house Zenjirou and showed no sign of having stood empty until very recently.

A breeze rather particular to port towns was carried through the open window along with the dazzling sunlight, heavy with the scent of salt. The huge expanse of almost blindingly blue sea spread out before him, along with the stone-built port, made him think of ancient European capitals. The majority of the stones were white, so the white of the port and the blue of the sea formed a line of wondrous contrast.

“Whew, if you added the Capuan red to it, you’d pretty much get a tricolor. Kinda makes me want to start up a chant.”

Blue, white, and finally red. Those three colors reminded Zenjirou of the soccer team he’d supported back in Japan, prompting the musings to fall from his lips as he narrowed his eyes against the reflections from the water’s surface.

As he did, there was a knock at the door, followed by a familiar woman’s voice.

“Sir Zenjirou, may I take a moment of your time?”

“Oh, sure.”

His reflexive permission prompted a woman—who was indeed familiar—to enter.

“Excuse me,” said the middle-aged woman as she entered. She was wearing a dark red maid uniform. This woman was the head of cleaning in the inner palace, Ines.

She was, unlike the other older maids there, a slender woman and exceedingly graceful. While—as her title implied—she was only responsible for cleaning in the inner palace, that was by no means all she could do. She had the talent to, if the fancy took her, substitute for even the head maid Amanda and take command of all of the maids who worked there.

Ines came to a stop in front of Zenjirou as he stood there backed by the window and gave a refined bow before stating her business.

“Lord Rafaello Márquez has requested an audience. Do you wish to grant it?”

“Ah, I see,” Zenjirou said, just barely managing to swallow the follow-up before it left his mouth and avoiding asking what he should do.

Damn, I’m so used to letting Aura make all the decisions, he thought regretfully.

He may have only just arrived in Valentia, but he had done so with Aura’s teleportation magic, so he hadn’t the faintest feeling of travel fatigue or anything similar. In fact, he hadn’t even felt like he had traveled to the far western coast until he had gone to the window and seen it for himself.

He honestly would have liked to say that he wanted time to get used to the climate and customs of the coastal city in comparison to those of the capital, but he wasn’t here on vacation, after all. He had come to work, and he should prioritize said work.

The problem is that accepting right off the bat could make them take me lightly.

He thought back on his lessons with Octavia, but unfortunately, there was no case study they had done that was a perfect fit. The only choice he had, then, was to make the decision himself.

After a few moments of thought, he spoke. “Got it. Then let’s do it. Prepare a room, if you would?”

Since he didn’t know what the best choice was, he could merely follow his preferences, and Zenjirou’s custom was to get his work done as quickly as he could.

“Very well, sir,” Ines answered her lord’s bidding with a humble bow.

Roughly an hour later, Zenjirou was seated across from a man called Rafaello Márquez in a room of the estate.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Zenjirou. I am Rafaello, the first son of Count Manuel of the Márquez family. I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to meet so quickly today.”

Zenjirou studied the man from his seat as the visitor offered a fluid greeting with perfect manners.

So, this is Rafaello Márquez, the other man who could have married Aura...

He looked to be in his early thirties and had a medium build with more or less attractive features, but there was nothing that made him stand out as particularly handsome. If anything, his relative attractiveness weakened his impression. At the very least, he was not a man like General Pujol Guillén, whom one would never forget, even after only a single meeting.

“It is of no concern. I decided we needed to speak quickly. First, sit.”

Even after more than a year, he wasn’t used to the high-handed tone he was taking, but he was grateful for it now. The dislike he held towards this former candidate for his wife’s hand made his tone sharpen unintentionally, and in turn made speaking down to the other sound more natural.

“Yes, sir,” Rafaello answered, sitting in a chair across from Zenjirou, separated by a large rectangular table.

Even his manner of moving the seat out and sitting was oddly inconspicuous. It was probably another facet of refined etiquette, keeping the movements flowing in such a way that they didn’t cause displeasure to anyone observing.

“I would hear your report, Lord Rafaello. Have you met with the person calling herself a princess of the Northern Continent?” Zenjirou asked, lacing his hands together and placing them on the table.

Rafaello gave a slight nod as he answered. “I have. However, I was dispatched a mere three days prior, so I have yet to exchange more than simple pleasantries.”

It was unlikely that there was anyone in the city who didn’t know of the arrival of the four-masted ship carrying a woman calling herself the princess of the Kingdom of Uppasala. That was far from surprising, as there was no hiding the massive ship docked in the port.

“A basic impression is sufficient. Tell me your thoughts on this princess.”

“Very well. The head of the group is a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl going by the name of Freya Uppasala. By her own account, she is the first princess of a country on the Northern Continent called the Kingdom of Uppasala.”

“Her credibility?”

“If my own perspective is sufficient, then I think it is all but assured.” Rafaello answered the short question smoothly, almost like he had prepared the answer. “There are slight dissimilarities in the fine details of her comportment, but that is likely due to the differences in customs between our countries. Her behavior and speech are both refined and familiar to her.”

In this instance, Freya’s youth actually increased her credibility. There were skilled con artists who had the ability to flawlessly imitate royalty with aristocratic speech and actions, but such practices inevitably took decades in those circles, which was unlikely for someone of her age.

“I see,” Zenjirou answered with an expressionless nod.

Aura had said that taking command of a huge four-masted ship likely meant the stranger was the real deal, and that seemed to have proven true. Of course, her being a princess didn’t necessarily guarantee that she was not also a con artist. Or more accurately, roughly half of a royal’s role when carrying out diplomacy with the weight of the country on their shoulders was running a con. Underestimating her just because she was young could well leave them destitute.

“If you have only exchanged greetings, I assume you are unaware of the purpose of their voyage?”

“I am. We have not yet spoken of those matters. However, she did say that their arrival here was partially a coincidence. The ship had certainly left for the Southern Continent, but they encountered a storm on the waves and were washed here.”

“Oh?” Zenjirou’s eyes opened wide in response to the report, his surprise evident. If he could put it rather imprudently, it was good news. Being caught in a storm would have certainly damaged the ship. Therefore, without any actual negotiation, they could offer the services of their shipwrights as a favor and gain at least a cursory smattering of knowledge of the four-masted ships.

At any rate, he had already been given instructions in case matters progressed according to Aura’s hypotheses, so he didn’t hesitate to make a decision.

“In that case, we shall offer shipwrights to assist in their repairs. If Princess Freya’s ship is damaged, then we are to give all possible aid. This was Her Majesty Aura’s decision in the capital as well.”

“Understood, sir. I shall make the preparations at once.”

Whether Rafaello was aware of the hidden meaning behind the prince consort’s words or not, his peaceful expression remained in place as Zenjirou stressed that the decision was Aura’s.

“Preparations at once,” huh? Guess he’s just as Aura said, Zenjirou thought to himself when he heard the man’s answer, evaluating his abilities.

Aura had described Rafaello Márquez as “an exceedingly talented civil official but also utterly passive.” In essence, she meant that he had the ability to carry out any orders he was given to achieve the best result possible but lacked the initiative to act proactively. Frankly, he was a rarity among the many more audacious men of the Capuan kingdom. If his loyalty had been to the country itself rather than to his own family, Aura might have happily made him her husband.

“However,” Rafaello continued, his calm expression not shifting an inch, “the craftsmen of Valentia are constantly busy. I do of course intend to utilize them as much as possible, but repairs on such a large ship with such a dearth of personnel could lead to issues. With your permission, I would also like to involve people from outside the region.”

Zenjirou kept his own calm facade up to the best of his ability while putting purposeful stress on his next words. “I see, and would those perhaps be craftsmen from the Márquez County?”

There was a distinct tinge of cynicism in his words for once, but the heir to the county simply agreed with his soft smile still in place.

“They would. Embarrassingly enough considering my age, I have spent the majority of my time within the county, so I am rather unfamiliar with any other craftsmen. Fortunately, it is not too distant from Valentia.”

“I see.”

“I would greatly appreciate your understanding here.”

“Including men from outside of the region would also require permission from Her Majesty.”

“You need not worry on that front. My father is in the capital and has already discussed it with Her Majesty. This is the letter confirming it.”

As he spoke, Rafaello pulled a folded sheet of drake parchment from his pocket and placed it on the table. Zenjirou glanced at Ines where she was waiting in the wings. She followed the signal and glided across the floor to the table and retrieved the sheet to hand to Zenjirou. He gave a hum as he glanced over the sheet, but unfortunately, he could only read about half of what was there. He had been studying every evening, but his comprehension of Capua’s written language was only about that of a Japanese middle schooler’s English comprehension.

He was at least able to verify that Aura and Manuel Márquez’s names were signed at the end as he handed it back to the maid. Once she took the sheet, she placed it so that Zenjirou would be able to see it before calmly beginning to read.

“I shall now read it out,” she stated. “While serving as an aide to Zenjirou Capua, Rafaello Márquez will have the following allowances in regard to the distribution of manpower...”

The contents of the parchment as Ines read it aloud were essentially what Rafaello had said. As far as the current situation was concerned, if there was insufficient manpower to address it, Rafaello was permitted to involve people from outside of Valentia. Under those circumstances, however, the burden of payment would fall upon the Márquez family.

I see, so essentially the Márquezes want a bite of the pie, and in exchange, Rafaello will act as a faithful subordinate here, and the economic side of things will be shared between us.

It was reasonable, but Aura and the count had already come to an agreement. The fact that Aura hadn’t told Zenjirou directly served to underscore the idea that Zenjirou was there for show while Rafaello would deal with the matter itself.

Zenjirou would have preferred to know about it ahead of time, but he was also aware that Aura was considerably more adept in these matters than he.

“Very well. It seems to be as you say. If Her Majesty has given her permission then I have no cause to refuse. Manage it as you wish.” He spoke bluntly, his tone one of someone who had ceased to concern themselves.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

“Yup, a crap night’s sleep to be honest...” was the first thing that left Zenjirou’s mouth when he awoke the next morning in the ducal estate.

The room was lit by a shaft of light making its way through the gap in the firmly shuttered window as he stretched grandly and woke himself up.

“Ur...guh!”

He had slept longer than usual but still felt like he hadn’t slept enough. He had been ready for the difficulty of living away from the inner palace, but it seemed he hadn’t been ready enough. While the worst of the heat had passed, Capua’s nights were still sweltering. He had recently regained his air conditioning in the bedroom back at home, so his body wasn’t used to the intense heat of the night.

The only decent lighting he had was the LED flashlight he had brought from the capital, so there wasn’t much he could do at night either. He could use the hand crank from the flashlight to charge his phone, which he had brought to use as a clock, but he didn’t have a single game on it—something he rather regretted at this point.

He hadn’t used his game consoles as often recently either, so he had decided he didn’t need to bring one and had more time than he knew what to do with during the night now. In retrospect, the reason he hadn’t played his games at night recently was that he was either talking with Aura or practicing magic.

Aura was obviously nowhere to be seen, but he also didn’t have his PC or video camera with the exact pronunciations of the chants recorded on them. He could practice controlling his mana without those, but he lacked the focus to spend hours staring at his own hand and adjusting the mana output up and down. Therefore, he had too much free time and retired at an early hour despite not being sleepy.

“Ugh, I underestimated this a bit. I’ll have to get used to it, though,” he told himself, pulling his blue-pajamaed body out of bed and planting his bare feet onto the carpet.

His sleepwear, loungewear, and underwear were all things from Earth he had brought with him. Aura had said, “You will have official business and need to look the part for the whole day, so you should at least be able to relax in familiar clothing when you are in private lest you regret it later,” and he had followed her advice, bringing a fair amount of clothing along. Thus far, it seemed she was correct. He hadn’t slept well even in his own pajamas. If he had allowed his sleepwear to be sourced locally, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to sleep at all.

“I managed just fine in the yukata from the hotels when I was off on business trips, though. Guess I can’t lump together a hotel stay in the same country and staying away from home in another world.”

As he spoke, Zenjirou felt around for the shutters to open them. “Argh! The sun’s bright as anything on the coast.”

There came a knock at the door while he was squinting against the sudden bright morning sun streaming into the room. He started to give his usual “go ahead” but swallowed the words before they left his mouth.

This wasn’t the inner palace, and he could only use such an easygoing tone with the maids there because of the certainty that they would not gossip about it. Normally, casual speech with a maid would most certainly be nothing to boast about for a royal. It would not only lower Zenjirou’s standing but could also bring Aura into disrepute for making such a man her consort.

“What?” he said towards the door, keeping his public facade up and the firmness in his voice.

“S-Sir! My apologies for disturbing your rest, but we have brought a change of clothes.”

Perhaps as should have been expected, the voice that answered him was an unfamiliar one. It was a strained, young, female voice.

“Enter,” he replied bluntly with an internal wince at having to maintain the act even in his own room.

“Pardon us, sir,” the voice came again as the door opened to admit three young maids. The first of them held the door open while the second carried the formal clothing and the third softly shut the door once they had entered.

Their sequence of movements was well refined for their age, with the single exception being the almost pitiable nerves showing on their tanned faces. It was far from a surprise. Zenjirou was perhaps the second-most important aristocrat in the country. The maids of the inner palace knew his temperament, but the people of Valentia had heard only rumors, so he was simply “a man who could have them executed if the whim took him.”

Of course, there were very few nobles in Capua who would punish the help for sport, but these three hadn’t seen enough of him to make a judgment call on whether he was part of the majority or minority.

“Good morning, Sir Zenjirou. We have come to offer our aid with your dressing.”

Zenjirou once again had to hold back any casualness as he addressed the girls bowing in front of him. “Good work. Please do.”

He had aimed for a calm demeanor that would hopefully alleviate their needless nerves while still being dignified enough not to come across as bizarre for royalty. It was tiring to do, but this was part of his job as far as he was concerned, so he stood in his pajamas with his hands slightly parted while waiting for them to approach.

It embarrassed Zenjirou slightly to have help from the young maids with dressing, but the clothing was complicated and was held in place with countless ties, so he couldn’t don it himself.

He could, naturally, remove his pajamas on his own, but insisting on doing so when he could go no further was pointless. With him standing there in expressionless resignation, the three removed his pajamas with practiced movements and began dressing him in the third uniform.

Being dressed up wordlessly weighed on Zenjirou, so he brought up a topic that seemed safe. “That reminds me, what is Ines doing?”

The three maids started at being addressed by their temporary master, but one of them soon replied.

“Sir, she is currently giving instructions in the kitchen. She also said that she would be meeting with sirs Rafaello and Damian to discuss today’s plans.”

In the inner palace, Ines only held the role of head of cleaning, but in Valentia, she was practically head maid while also acting as something akin to a secretary for Zenjirou. In some ways, she was kept busy by not only the prince consort, who was ostensibly in charge here, but also by Rafaello.

The maids’ quick movements soon had him dressed, and he checked his appearance in the mirror he had brought with him before asking for a confirmation from the trio.

“I believe there is a meeting with Princess Freya after breakfast. When should I head for the dining room?”

“The kitchen staff are currently making preparations, sir. Once they are done, someone will arrive to inform you, so if you would wait here until then?”

His calm tone and expression must have allowed their nerves to abate to some degree as the young maid answered briskly and in a much more fluid manner.

“I see. Very well; you are dismissed until then.”

The maids exchanged concerned looks at his instruction. Nobles with sufficient standing to warrant maids would usually not be concerned about their presence in the room. In fact, it was practically general practice to have at least one maid in the room to receive orders at a moment’s notice.

By that metric, dismissing them now wasn’t a particularly appropriate act, but he would be suffocated by the constant presence, in spite of knowing the correct etiquette. Aware of the strangeness of it, he resolved to push through with his selfishness.

“You are dismissed,” he repeated.

“A-At once.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Please do not hesitate to call if you have any requests.”

The three maids, still confused, obediently followed his order.

Zenjirou had been unable to truly enjoy the breakfast shared with both the governor and Rafaello, but now that it was over, he was finally going to meet the self-proclaimed princess and her retinue.

The meeting was taking place in the reception hall of the duke’s residence. It was similar to the reception hall in the royal palace. There was no dais with a throne like the latter had, but there was a chair that symbolized the majesty of the duke.

Naturally, the only person permitted to sit in said chair was the duke him or herself. The governor usually used his own neighboring residence, and while Zenjirou may have had special dispensation, he also could hardly sit in the chair.

Yet, with his rank as prince consort, it would be incredibly rude to require him to stand, so there had been an equally grand chair brought next to the duke’s where Zenjirou was currently sitting.

He was doing his utmost to keep a composed expression on his face and resisting the urge to shuffle his legs as Rafaello stood to his right and Ines to his left. While Ines was nothing more than a maid, she was still standing level with Rafaello, who was a leading noble in the country. This too was unavoidable, however, as Rafaello was only there, officially at least, as an aide to Zenjirou.

As this happened, the door opened and the people in question entered. Two women were standing behind the door as two soldiers who worked there pushed them open.

So, that’s the “princess,” huh? Rafaello was right, she definitely carries herself like royalty. Doesn’t look like she’s got the mana for it, though. I guess the woman behind her’s a bodyguard? Mana-wise she’s about the same level. Is the princess suppressing hers on purpose? Zenjirou mused, assessing the approaching pair as he sat on the finely carved chair.

The woman walking ahead was probably the “self-proclaimed first princess” that Rafaello had reported on. In keeping with said report, she looked to be in the latter half of her teens.

The first thing to draw his eye when he saw Freya was her hairstyle. The strangely silver-blue color hair was cut just as it approached the nape of her neck. While he wasn’t sure of the customs that far north, it was extremely rare to see a woman with short hair on the Southern Continent. There was a maid in the inner palace with short hair, but that was because her hair was simply too curly to manage properly when it grew out. He could tell at a glance that Freya’s hair was straight and glossy, though, and it almost seemed a shame it was cut so short.

Are short haircuts common there? he wondered, but her clothing was still odd.

The clothes she wore could be summed up as a “captain’s attire.” Her legs were covered in white pants and long boots, while on her upper half she wore something that was almost a white shirt and a long jacket similar to a blazer, with a leather belt around her waist. It was a strange set of clothing, almost halfway between a first-class sailor’s from the age of exploration and a modern naval officer’s dress uniform, but it was also obviously men’s clothing.

She’s cut her hair short and worn men’s clothes, so is she disguising herself as a man? That doesn’t work, though —she gave her name as “Princess Freya,” so it’s pretty half-hearted if she is.

As Zenjirou’s internal monologue noted, Freya was dressed in clothing clearly meant for a man, yet she didn’t seem to be trying to hide her sex. Her chest, covered slightly by a blue scarf-like cloth, was not full, but the soft swell was enough to put to rest to any claims of her being a man, and the belt around her waist cinched her clothes in to make her womanly curves obvious.

The cross-dressing girl’s advance was stopped by a speech from the governor, Damian, from the side.

“Excuse me, but wait there. I beg your pardon, but we need to search you first.”

“What rudeness! Who do you think you’re talking to?!” the tall warrior shouted from behind the princess, taking offense at the governor’s words.

The air was suddenly full of hostility. However, neither of them was in the wrong. Frankly, one could say that both were in the right. It was a natural reaction for a royal’s bodyguard to take offense at a request for those in their charge to be searched. However, from the Valentian governor’s perspective, a completely unknown, self-proclaimed princess was approaching one of only three members of the country’s royal family, so ensuring that there was nothing untoward was essential.

“I am aware of the discourtesy. However, such a risk to Sir Zenjirou cannot be allowed. You will certainly be compensated in some way, so I ask that you please understand.”

“Then you could have done this in another room! What need is there to disgrace the princess like this?!”

“Such would not be a complete guarantee.”

The governor likely wanted to say that searching her in another room wouldn’t stop her from acquiring a weapon in the intervening time even if she was cleared originally, but it sounded somewhat obstinate even to Zenjirou.

Is he maybe trying to put her in a weaker position from the start by doing it here?

With that in mind, he glanced towards Rafaello, who was next to him, but his temporary aide was merely observing with a placid expression. In that case, with it being better for him to essentially remain window dressing until a final decision was made, there was no reason for him to interfere, he concluded, his shoulders untensing as he decided to see how things played out.

Freya herself remained silent as her bodyguard continued her tirade. “If you want to try that, I’m the princess’s bodyguard! I have a duty to make sure no harm comes to her!” she cried, clenching a fist that was rather large for a woman.

“I apologize,” Ines said, having shifted from her position next to Zenjirou just before the woman got ready to fight, gliding in front of her and bowing her head deeply. “But I am tasked with the inspection of Her Highness.”

“Wha?!”

Ines kept her head bowed in the face of the warrior’s almost excessive surprise.

“Naturally, I shall do my utmost to reduce the burden on Her Highness. The entire inspection will be carried out within that,” she said, gesturing towards four maids holding a huge cloth, somewhat like a blackout curtain. “I would of course appreciate your presence and protection of the princess as well.”

The cloth would be used to block anyone outside from watching as the inspection was carried out. Of course, such an inspection would not require her to completely strip. It would at most see the outer layers of her outfit removed and a brief pat-down to check for concealed weapons. Still, the whole idea of being exposed and touched all over was still rather humiliating—even if the person carrying it out was also a woman.

“B-But!”

Regardless, the woman didn’t show any sign of yielding, and the princess finally broke her silence in rebuke.

“Enough, Skaji.”

“But, Princess!”

There was a slight tinge of red in Freya’s snow-white skin—oddly untanned despite the long voyage—as she spoke calmly to her retainer.

“I stand here with no way to confirm my legitimacy. There is nothing incorrect with their precautions.”

More specifically, rather than having no way to prove her identity, there was no one there who could verify any such claim. Their ship, the Glasir’s Leaf, had things such as treasured swords with the royal crest, or a tiara with a blue sapphire, something only permitted to royalty, but Capuans had no concept of her country’s royal crest or customs, so it would do no good. They would obviously be able to tell from the fine gold and silver on the sword, or the huge blue sapphire, that the items were beyond a normal person’s means, but they were not enough to prove her legitimacy as a princess.

“We truly appreciate your forbearance. Let us begin, girls.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the maids answered her command, covering Ines, Freya, and the warrior with the cloth.

Zenjirou and the others on the other side unintentionally maintained their silence, so the sounds of rustling cloth as the two women divested themselves of their clothes along with the light touches of Ines’s hand on their skin were audible to the room.

Eventually, Ines’s voice carried from the other side, saying, “That is sufficient. My deepest thanks for your cooperation,” which was followed immediately by the removal of the cloth.

Once more visible, Ines took a step forward and bowed respectfully. “Forgive my impudence. There were no issues.”

The governor then followed up with an apology of his own. “Please excuse us, Your Highness, you may continue onward.”

“Not at all. I understand your position,” Freya answered, her expression aloof and her gaze unwavering as she quietly advanced.

After thinking for a while, Zenjirou decided to stand from his chair and greet the approaching princess. He was the prince consort, and she was the first princess, so in terms of rank, there was no need for him to stand even if her claim was true. But there was also not enough of a disparity in their ranks for it to cause an issue, so Zenjirou hoped that by greeting her in such a way, he could convey an apology that could not be spoken aloud.

The cross-dressing princess and her bodyguard stopped at the required spot, and Zenjirou looked at them from his standing position, taking care not to let his voice crack as he spoke.

“I am the husband of the current queen of Capua, Her Majesty Aura. My name is Zenjirou Capua. Ordinarily, Her Majesty would have been here under the auspices of her title as the Duchess of Valentia, but she cannot leave the capital due to her workload. Therefore, I am here as her representative. It is good to meet you,” he stated, reciting the speech he had decided on last night.

In response, the princess put her left foot behind her and gave a bow. “I am Captain Freya of the Royal Navy of Uppasala’s Eighth Ship, the Glasir’s Leaf. It is an honor to have the opportunity to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty. I also hope as King Gustav V’s second child and the first princess, Freya Uppasala, that this meeting can strengthen relations between our two lands.”

“A laudable desire,” Zenjirou answered, internally going over her greeting.

She introduced herself as the ship’s captain first rather than as a princess? So she’s prioritizing her position as the former here, at least?

He was aware that he wasn’t the best at rolling with unexpected developments and wasn’t happy about the statement coming out of left field.

Uh, well, I’d intended to change tack a bit after accepting her as a princess, but I guess it’d be better to just keep going, he decided, now directing his gaze towards their visitor’s companion.

“Would you introduce the warrior behind you as well? I can tell she seems to be particularly skilled.”

Of course, it was just a bluff. Zenjirou didn’t have the perception to be able to evaluate a warrior’s skill at a glance like that. He had simply been told that she had slain a sea dragon by Damian that morning, with a single attack of her spear. Further questioning had revealed that sea dragons had exceptionally thick skins and were hardy creatures, so even a vital shot wouldn’t take them down in one hit unless it was excessively strong. A warrior managing such a feat would be first-class without question.

Freya smiled proudly and looked back at the other woman before speaking. “I would indeed. This is Victoria Kronkvist, one of our country’s finest warriors and also my bodyguard.”

The woman remained silent as she bowed her head.

“I see; a most reliable guard,” Zenjirou answered, looking the warrior—Victoria Kronkvist—over again.

She seemed to be in her late twenties, with long blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail. Her eyes were reddish-brown and her skin was probably originally the white of the Northern Continent but had been tanned dark by the sun at sea.

The initial impression of anyone who faced her would not be her coloring, though.

She’s huge, Zenjirou couldn’t help but think as he looked up at her.

The woman was tall enough that even with the separation in their levels, he couldn’t look her in the eye without purposefully looking up.

Forget Aura, she’s taller than Fatima and nowhere near as slender either.

If his estimates were correct, Freya would be around a hundred and sixty centimeters, and Victoria looked at least a head and a half taller behind her, so she would be at least one-eighty. Her body was also obviously well trained, visible even through her leather armor. If he had to say, the slope of her shoulders and the relative lack of broadness for her height meant that she didn’t have as intimidating an air as Aura, but her arms, legs, and backside were clearly those of a tempered warrior. If you wanted to meet a woman of her physique in the modern day, you would probably need to go to a world tournament for volleyball or basketball.

Still, she doesn’t draw the eye much even with her height. If anything, Princess Freya is much more noticeable when they stand like this.

Rather than calling the warrior plain, it was more that Freya was unusually attention-grabbing. That aside, there was something in the introduction that Zenjirou wanted to question further.

“Victoria Kronkvist, you say? I seem to recall you used a different name with her earlier though?”

Freya answered his question with a prideful smile as if impressed he had noticed. “That is her title. We have the custom of giving skilled warriors the names of past heroes. ‘Skaji’ was a preeminent witch in ancient times who also made a name for herself on the battlefield.”

“Ah.”

Similar customs of gifting the names of skilled warriors was a common practice even on Earth. While he wasn’t aware of the importance of the name “Skaji,” the fact that this woman had been entrusted with a princess’s safety meant that she was doubtless one of the foremost warriors in the country.

Still, she was here exclusively as Freya’s bodyguard, so long as nothing endangered her, the warrior would watch silently, and there should be no particular need to concern himself with her, he decided, shifting his gaze from her back to the cross-dressing princess.

“I understand, Princess Freya. I welcome you and your companions as guests of Valentia of the Kingdom of Capua. Separate accommodations will be prepared for you, so you may move there for the time being. Naturally, your ship may remain docked also. As a representative of Queen Aura, I, Zenjirou Capua, assure your safety. Please discuss the details with my aide, Rafaello.”

With the end of his speech, Zenjirou indicated the count’s heir with a glance, whereupon the man gave a respectful bow.

“Understood, sir. Princess Freya, I am Rafaello Márquez, and I am at your disposal. Contact me with anything that you need.”

“It is good to meet you,” Freya answered, not bowing her head; in fact, she raised her chin ever so slightly.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

“Phew...” Zenjirou sighed, letting out his relief once he returned to his private room and was sure that only he and Ines were present.

“Are you well, Sir Zenjirou? If the clothing is too much for you then you may relax; I will be able to fix them alone.”

“Sorry, I’ll take you up on that,” he answered, unable to beat the temptation. He roughly loosened the belt and cords of the pants before collapsing on the sofa with a thump.

The only occasion where he could stop the majestic facade expected of him as royalty was when he was alone or when only Ines was with him. Excluding the time just before he slept, there were very few chances for him to be alone during the day. He honestly had to admire her for being able to remain with him as much as possible despite her extra duties as a temporary head maid.

“Princess Freya and her companions have moved safely to their accommodations.”

“Right, I’ll have to tell Lord Rafaello he did well later. They’re comfortable?”

“They are not.”

“What? They’re not?” he asked in surprise at the casual negation.

The surprise was natural. Earlier was one thing, but Zenjirou had accepted them as guests of honor from the Northern Continent, so making them uncomfortable was a real issue. At the very least, he had a responsibility to attempt to alleviate it.

“In what way?” he asked, sitting up on the sofa.

“Well,” she answered with a reluctantly amused smile, “they beat around the bush in several ways, but simply put, they cannot deal with the heat.”

“A-Ahh... Not much we can do there,” he answered in understanding before flopping back in his seat. “Espiridion said their country is in the far north, being on the Northern Continent, anyway. I guess it’d be like they were from Scandinavia or Greenland on Earth. We’d probably be close to the equator like Africa or South India, maybe?”

With his very rough approximation of the difference in climates, Zenjirou was rather sympathetic to the group. His knowledge of the regions was pretty half-baked. Temperatures in Scandinavia commonly got above the thirties during the summer, but perhaps fortunately for his comparison to the region, Uppasala was a cold land where the temperature rarely rose above twenty degrees even in midsummer.

Because of that, his concerns were right on the mark. The hottest part of the year being behind them or not, the temperature was still often over thirty-five Celsius during the day, so it was no shock that the northerners would admit defeat to the heat.

“We need to ensure that they at least have enough water to be comfortable. Take care to fulfill any food-related requests they have as best you can too.”

That was all he could think of. Without the electricity in the inner palace, there was little he could do.

“I will see that the water casks are refilled as often as we are able. I would prefer to increase our personnel to do so, so I shall discuss it with Lord Damian later,” Ines answered with a nod.

The estate they were using had wells of its own but not enough for its size, so the water was drawn up and placed in casks for places farther from the wells. However, water in such casks would immediately grow much warmer than the water from underground and therefore needed regular replacement, but that was obviously hard labor even for grown men, and it was completely understandable for Ines to request additional manpower.

“Hm, got it. It’ll be tough, but do what you can to make them comfortable. At least enough that shows our willingness.”

“I understand, sir.”

He didn’t know how the negotiations with Freya would go, so he wanted to ensure that she was at least in a good mood, to begin with, even if the earlier inspection had harmed their opinion of Capuans. It was also doubtless part of the negotiations, so Zenjirou had no intention of interfering with his layman’s perspective, but going about the negotiations in good faith was a better fit for his personality.

“I appreciate it. So, what are my plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, changing the topic.

“For the time being,” the superlative maid answered immediately, “the plan is for much of the actual business of demands and compensation to be discussed, so there is no call for you to deal directly with the princess. Lord Rafaello will be handling the bulk of the negotiations, so outside of a progress report in the evening, you should be relatively free.”

While Zenjirou had a general say in the matter as a whole, he was not expected to sound the strangers out and come to a profitable agreement for the both of them on his own. Therefore, while the actual negotiations took place, he would be relatively unburdened with responsibilities.

“Damn it, I definitely should have brought a game or something to kill the time.”

He was well aware that although he had nothing to do with his time, exploration would cause trouble to everyone around him. Boredom was something that would increase and increase, growing more of a burden as it progressed. He would have to come up with a way of amusing himself without bothering anyone around him.

For the time being, he’d had a thought at breakfast and decided to ask Ines about it.

“Hey, there were shellfish at breakfast, right? Do you know what happens to the shells?”

While giving a gracefully askance look at her master’s abrupt, ineffable question, she answered honestly. “I believe they will be disposed of. There is not much use for them, after all.”

A smile made its way onto his face at the expected answer. “Great, then do you think I could have them? I’d also like to borrow a pestle and mortar along with some people who are used to using them. Oh, I’ll need some sand from a beach too, as white and shiny as possible,” he said.

He was after, it went without saying, the materials for glassmaking: slaked lime and silica sand. Their experiments so far had used shells from nearby lakes and sand from inland areas. They hadn’t yet used anything from Valentia, so Zenjirou thought it was worth the attempt.

Ines was unaware of his thought process but decided that it was easily arranged and agreed immediately. “Understood, I shall make the preparations at once. However, if our stay is likely to be for a significant amount of time, you may be better served by sending a dwarf wyvern and having Her Majesty send some of the maids from the inner palace.”

He approved her suggestion wholeheartedly. “Yeah, it might cause them a bit of hassle, but I’d like to. I can’t relax with the maids from here hanging around.”

It was something that Ines would appreciate as well. While the on-site maids were sufficient for the work required, only those of the inner palace could truly connect with Zenjirou. Of course, she had been instructed to remain with him as much as possible, so even if more maids from the inner palace joined them, it would not lead to a dramatic reduction in the work she had to do.

“I shall prepare a letter for you to sign later.”

“Got it, please do,” he answered with a slight nod, still relaxing on the sofa.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Meanwhile, Princess Freya was in a room of the guesthouse and talking with her trusted bodyguard.

“A comfortable room, I feel. These ‘slippers’ are intriguing too,” she said, waving her feet around with slightly poor manners from where she sat on the sofa. She had now stopped cross-dressing and was wearing a long, light blue dress. She had little in the way of accessories, but the beautiful glossy dress and light makeup gave her the very image of a secluded noble girl, overriding any thoughts of her short hair.

There was a clear frown on the tall warrior’s face as she took in her liege’s words. “I dislike them. Cloth shoes like this are awful for your footing if the need to flee or fight arises, and a shield-bearer would easily immobilize me by crushing my toes with a single strike. Princess, may I please wear my leather footwear? I will clean the soles fastidiously.”

The Kingdom of Uppasala had no cultural bias towards slippers that were explicitly for indoor wear. The princess shook her head with a smile at the uncomfortable warrior.

“You cannot, Skaji. They say to follow the laws of the land on land, and those of the sea on the waves. I would rather not cause any crosscurrents here.”

The saying was close to the Earth phrase of “when in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

The warrior gave a reluctant affirmation before bracing her slipper-clad feet as if to test how well she could fight in her current state.

“So?” Freya asked. “Can you fight?”

In answer to her question, Skaji tried out a sequence of combat footwork a couple of times before replying, “I can. My footing is firmer than I expected. The soles have leather attached to prevent slipping, so I should be able to manage.”

Her confident expression returned as she spoke and she clapped her hand to the steel sword at her waist. The sword was sheathed in a leather scabbard, only the tip and opening of which were reinforced with metal. The weapon was plain and undecorated but was a cut above those of Capua in terms of sharpness and durability.

Uppasala was one of the more advanced countries technologically even within the Northern Continent. That technological strength was the reason behind their survival as an independent state even with the low average level of mana within the population and the royal family’s lack of lineal magic.

“Then that is all that matters. Considering our earlier audience, I doubt things will devolve to a fight, but we must prepare for the possibility regardless. Should it come to pass, I will be relying on you, Skaji.”

“You can do so, Princess; not a scratch will befall you!” The tall warrior kept her left hand on her sheathed sword while throwing her shoulders back proudly.

“I certainly hope so.” The princess smiled back before transitioning to a more serious expression and bringing up a grave topic. “I expected it to be the case, but it would seem that we should assume we will be unable to prevent our ship’s technology from leaking.”

The warrior’s expression mimicked her liege’s as she answered. “Indeed. I am not well-versed in shipbuilding, but we sustained major damage in the storm. The on-board carpenters claim that repairs are possible but that it will be a large-scale operation and require a significant workforce.”

Regardless of what a layman might see, the damage sustained by the Glasir’s Leaf during its expedition between the two continents, when combined with that taken in the tempest it had been swallowed by, was clear at a glance to any specialist. A long voyage back between the continents in its current state was absurd.

Freya was more relaxed in front of her confidant and let out a deep sigh. “I see. It leaves us little leeway in our negotiations. Lord Rafaello stated that all repairs would be completely free of charge, so it could even be counted as a blessing.”

“It is an awfully blatant offer, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.”

Naturally, they were referring to Rafaello Márquez’s—along with the country at his back’s—true aims. They wished to take the knowledge of how to construct ships larger than they themselves could currently build by aiding in the repairs of a more advanced example. However, as Freya had said, they could not refuse the help even with their host’s ulterior motive being clear. Until the ship was repaired, they had no route home.

In the worst case, they could head north by land and board a trading vessel between the two continents in a country where such trade took place, but that would incur a debt to the country with the port and the country whose flag the trading ship sailed under. With that in mind, this compromise was preferable, even with the leak of technology.

“Our techniques will quite possibly be taken regardless, so it may even be better to cooperate and oversee the construction of a shipyard for ships of our size.”

“Princess, that would be going too far,” the warrior replied, paling as her liege rested her chin in her hand.

“Naturally, I do not intend to make such a suggestion, but I believe it would be an allowable outcome, depending on the circumstances. Skaji, we will not be able to maintain our navy at its current size for many more generations with how things stand at present,” she reminded her bodyguard, biting her lip.

Uppasala was a steel exporter with superlative smithing. The climate was harsh, with the country covered in snow for half the year. Despite that, ocean currents meant that their ports remained free of ice throughout. The charcoal fuel for their forges came from the trees, as did the firewood to stave off the cold and the main component of the ships they built.

Firewood and charcoal didn’t require grand trees, but with nothing said to the contrary, the general public would rather work together to fell larger trees nearby than go up into the mountains to gather wood. The situation was dire by the time the royal family had noticed the decline of their forests and issued an edict.

They had of course placed an immediate ban on felling what remained of their biggest trees along with carrying out reforestation throughout the country, but what little they had left was of great concern, and there was no guarantee their resources would last until the reforestation had borne fruit. Gaining lumber was one of the more important goals that their expedition had set out with.

“So, directly transporting the necessary wood for large ships is impossible,” Skaji said, her words closer to a statement than a question.

“Indeed,” Freya answered bluntly. “There were more sea dragons than expected on our route. Whether we were to tow the lumber or somehow fit it onto the ship itself, the stability and speed would suffer greatly, and we would not make it back.”

Their greatest desire was for long and thick pieces of wood that could serve as the keel of a large ship, essentially its spine. Such pieces would be close in length to the ship itself and either towing or carrying them on board for more than a hundred days through open water was madness. They had known that the possibility of success was slim upon setting out, but the actual voyage had made that impossibility clear, which was rather disheartening.

However, Freya kept the negative emotions from her face as she spoke to her confidant in a calm tone of voice. “In the worst case, we should be able to purchase sufficient wood from our neighbors for a while—another reason we should form our own intercontinental trade agreements to make money.”

“Trade with the Southern Continent? I daresay the safest bets would be sugar and spices.”

Both items were staples that even the commoners had access to in the Southern Continent, but those on the Northern Continent would need a silver coin for even a pinch of them.

“Indeed. Drake hide and bones would also be safe. We were fortunate that our cargo suffered little damage.”

“The damage to the fabrics, furs, and ironware was insignificant. We should make a tidy sum if we can exchange it at the usual intercontinental rates.”

The Northern Continent essentially had no larger reptiles, while the Southern Continent lacked larger mammals. Therefore, drake products went for a premium in the North, and the woolen fabrics and furs were rarities in the South. The majority of the countries on the Northern Continent had relatively low demand for drake bones and leathers, but Uppasala was, fortunately, an exception.

“I would prefer something unique to the country that is harder to get through intercontinental trade, but that will suffice for now,” Freya mused. “At any rate, considering I demanded the captaincy from my father and brother, I cannot return without results. Skaji, the seas will be rough, but please lend me your aid.”

“My life is yours to command,” the warrior pledged, once more placing her hand on her sword and standing at attention.