Chapter 5 — Peaceful Time Passes

Several days had passed since Zenjirou had learned of “the soul of language.”

The temperature in the kingdom had risen by the day, and the year had finally entered its hottest season. He didn’t know the exact temperature, having turned the thermometer around for the sake of his mental health once he saw it pass 40°C. Judging from the feel of the air, the temperature had risen even higher since then, but he couldn’t muster the courage to flip the thermometer back around to check.

For the past few days, he’d shut all the windows and spent his time in the LED lights, despite having considered it “unhealthy” before. The blistering heat was not solely a source of misery, though. During this time of the year, when the heat was bad enough that it could kill, the palace had a roughly three-hour recess in the afternoon. So the past few days had provided him the opportunity to spend time with his wife not just at night, but also during the day.

“Phew, it’s so hot. Compared to the office, this might as well be paradise,” was the first thing out of the queen’s mouth as she shut the door and headed straight for the fridge.

“Hey, Aura, working hard today?” he called from where he was lying on the sofa, playing with a handheld console.

“Indeed,” she responded, scooping ice out of the ice maker and putting it into the nearby crusher with familiar movements.

Humming to herself with a placid smile, she spun the handle and created a mound of crushed ice in a glass container before taking a bottle of strawberry syrup from the fridge and pouring it liberally over the frozen chips.

“Aura! You’re using too much!” Zenjirou protested, having caught sight of her from the corner of his eye.

His wife, however, was completely unperturbed as she answered, “Do not be so miserly; there is no harm in me having some.” With that, she recapped the bottle and returned it to the fridge, heading over to where Zenjirou was relaxing, her glass of ice in one hand.

“There definitely is! It’s harming our supply!”

Even as he protested, he flicked his console shut and rearranged himself on the sofa so that she could sit down. Going out of his way to make room for her despite the empty couch opposite him implied that the marriage was going fairly well.

Aura took a long-handled spoon and lifted the ice, now bright red with the syrup, to her mouth. “Worry not, the chefs are currently making a similar confection using fruits and dark sugar.”

Her confident declaration drew his interest. “Oh, is it good?”

If they were adding sugar to fruit and boiling it down then that could result in something similar to jam. In that case, it would work as a substitute for the syrup.

Despite his hopeful question, however, her gaze remained on her ice, evasive. “So, I shall have this, and you may take advantage of the diligence of our kitchen staff later.”

“Come on, does it taste good?”

“Oh, my head is ringing. I cannot get enough of these cold rushes.”

“Yeah, right, I bet whatever they’re doing downstairs still tastes pretty bad...”

The queen looked a bit guilty at her husband’s reproachful stare, diverting her eyes as she relented. “Indeed... your world’s cuisine far outstrips our own. It appears it will be difficult to replicate these items precisely.”

Zenjirou let out a sigh at her confession. He hadn’t expected much, but it was disappointing to hear nonetheless. “Then we should make it last. I only brought the three bottles: one strawberry, one melon, and one blue Hawaii,” he told her.

“Indeed, I shall take care of the strawberry.”

“But strawberry’s my favorite too—ah, whatever,” he conceded, withdrawing his objections with a shrug. Considering his bed and board were all provided by his wife, letting her have her way with things like this was key to a happy marriage.

He put his console on the table and headed over to the fridge himself, pulling out a damp towel that had been chilling inside and tossing it to Aura as she finished eating.

“For the sweat.”

“Oh, my thanks.”

The sudden intake of fluid had made her perspire, so she took the towel and quickly wiped off her face and body.

There was a brief silence. While it was only noon, the room currently had its shutters closed to ward off the heat and was lit only by the lamps instead. It almost seemed like it was night, and seeing his beloved wife wiping herself off, despite her being fully clothed, Zenjirou’s lust naturally began to build.

Aura noticed his unabashed gaze and gave a sultry smile as she shifted to face away from him. “It seems I have done nothing but partake of the bounty you brought with you. Then, though I claimed you would have no obligations in your new life here, I am now having you learn manners, etiquette, and magic.”

From her perspective, it was a simple truth. Each day, she had cold drinks and was able to cool herself in front of the fan. She had no memories of experiencing such pleasant days during this time of the year before—a season even hotter than the rest of what was already a very summery year. If she had to compare it to something, she’d probably recall the summers of her youth, spent in the royal family’s resort near a highland lake.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he told her. “It was all stuff I wanted to use up. And as for the rest, even if you were brought up in another country, you should make an effort to learn the customs if you settle somewhere else, so I was prepared for that.”

Zenjirou’s reply was likewise the truth as he saw it. Although Aura had promised there would be no need for him to do anything, he’d been well aware that he wouldn’t be able to live like a lapdog, just eating, sleeping, and playing.

History on Earth had frequent instances of concubines being pulled into the public eye for official events, despite normally remaining secluded. Taking that into account, it was inevitable that he would need to learn at least basic etiquette and the country’s history to avoid bringing shame upon the royal family.

Besides, “work” in this world, where waking hours were dictated by the sun, was hardly demanding when he used to consider getting home before midnight to be “early.”

But Aura had no way of intuiting any of that, so once she was done toweling off and had discarded the fabric onto the table, she pressed her husband as he continued his self-effacement.

“Say, Zenjirou, do you truly not feel confined? I know you are refusing contact with others due to understanding my own circumstances, and it is indeed a great help to me. Yet still, I feel aggrieved that I cannot give anything back to you while you continue to have your freedoms restricted.”

It had been a little under a month since their marriage. That time had made Aura well aware of her husband’s grasp on their positions based on his lack of selfish requests and determination to avoid causing trouble. She knew that he was restraining himself as much as possible in order to steer clear of any problems.

He was also well regarded by the inner palace staff, such as the maids and the chefs assigned to the area. He was a master who didn’t cause them extra work and was neither egocentric nor overbearing. There surely wasn’t anyone else who could be so easy to serve.

After questioning them, Aura had actually warned the maids, who had instinctively arrayed themselves around the head maid, not to take the current situation at face value. Humans were creatures who could adapt to anything. It was surprisingly common for maids who’d grown accustomed to an undemanding lord to be unable to deal with a sudden bout of selfishness from them later on. Still, for the moment, her otherworldly husband seemed to be paying excessive attention to his surroundings and had a habit of suppressing his desires.

Yet Zenjirou wasn’t bothered. He had no particular demands. He did wish to leave the inner palace, but didn’t intend to push it when he considered the issues that doing so could cause. And while he was unhappy with the heat and food, there was nothing that Aura could do about it.

He knew that his self-sufficiency and extreme “understanding” might be strange to her, but Zenjirou had been brought up as part of the masses, and his sense of values was such that being selfish was deemed vulgar. So he was comfortable letting things be.

“Well, I’m happy enough for now. I’ll make sure to tell you if there’s anything I’m not happy about,” he told her.

“I do not refer only to dissatisfaction; I wish for you to tell me if there is anything at all that you desire. Well, regardless, you need not refrain from voicing any concerns. I wish to reward your devotion, even if only a little,” Aura replied with a kind smile.

That smile fanned his feelings for her even as he felt a thrill of playfulness. A glance at the clock showed that it was 1:03 PM. Her midday break from the intense heat would last until about 3:30.

Right, all good, plenty of time, he thought to himself as he approached the sofa where she sat.

“Okay, fine. If you insist... then pay with your body!” he yelled jokingly, leaping at her.

Aura immediately realized his intentions as he threw himself forward to embrace her and spread her own arms as well, catching him. She held him there, completely stopping him before tightening her grip.

“Very well...”

She entwined her arms around his back and fervently pressed her lips into his. If he wanted a passionate embrace and ardent kissing, then that was easily done; she would just need to accept it.

His reaction, however, contradicted her expectations. Each night when they embraced this way, he would deepen their kisses and allow his hands to roam her body. Yet now her husband was as motionless as a doll.

“What is wrong, Zenjirou?” she asked, putting her doubts into words as they broke their kiss.

Her husband didn’t answer and simply moved away from her before crouching in a corner of the room.

“Zenjirou?” she prompted. “Why are you fiddling with the carpet over there with such a gloomy expression?”

She was utterly bewildered, needing to understand what had caused his abrupt change when she had thought all he wanted was a passionate embrace.

Zenjirou answered despondently as he twirled his finger around. “I mean, yeah, I didn’t go all out, you know? And I wasn’t trying to seriously tackle you or anything. But still, I tried to push my wife down onto the sofa and you stopped me head-on, and didn’t even notice that I tried to...”

Zenjirou didn’t consider himself particularly macho, and didn’t bother much with taking pride in his physical strength, but his wife stopping his body blow like it was nothing made him feel somewhat sad as a man.

“Ah...” Aura’s face stiffened at his admission. Curses, she thought, I knew he was being more energetic than usual. So, he intended to push me down.

The queen’s body had been tempered by many years as a combatant, so in spite of her husband’s advantage in height, she could easily halt a blow from an amateur like him. And this world was more patriarchal than Japan. It saw strength as a virtue, making Aura feel the sorrow of her husband’s shame even more keenly than he himself did.

What should I do? she fretted, aware that she had quite embarrassed him. Then...

“Aahh!” she cried out, falling back onto the sofa.

“It’s a bit late! Besides, I don’t remember using some sort of delayed tackle!”

“Ahh!” she pointedly cried again, ignoring his retort as she lay on the sofa.

“I mean, come on...”

“Ahh!”

He fell silent as he looked at Aura sprawled out there, the slit of her dress riding up her leg and exposing her cocoa thighs. It was a familiar sight, one that he saw every night, but was still very welcome.

“Hi-yah!” he yelled after a moment, deciding to accept this “time-delayed tackle,” and positioned himself above her.

“Ahh?!”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Roughly an hour later, having worked up a good sweat on the sofa, the two of them transitioned to studying, still half-naked.

Zenjirou was sitting in front of his laptop in a pair of swim trunks while Aura stood behind him and to the side, clad in a small pair of shorts with a towel around her neck.

There was a sheaf of drake parchment next to the computer, with last year’s tax breakdown for the different regions of the Capuan Kingdom written upon it. The documents were mostly composed of places, names, and amounts, so Aura felt they were the best option for learning the characters and respective pronunciations that were used in this world.

Zenjirou didn’t entirely buy that concept, but dutifully recorded Aura pointing to the words and reading them aloud, then entered the data into a spreadsheet on his laptop. He had finished encoding each of the thirty characters the country used a few days ago, and had assigned each of them to the keys on his computer. It was horribly inefficient as he had to select the special characters every time he pushed the keys, but at least it let him use the new language on his computer.

All of this meant that when he took the records from Aura, added pronunciation guides and Arabic numerals to it, he had some very useful study materials to pore over on his own. It seemed likely that Aura had an ulterior motive in giving him last year’s tax records, but his education was the most obvious reason for it.

“So, Zenjirou, are they finished?”

“Yeah, I completed adding everything in yesterday, and I’m just printing it out now,” he answered.

He sent the fruits of his labor from the past several days (his spreadsheet) to the printer. It was something he had brought along as an afterthought, since it seemed a waste to just throw it away. He only had three precious cartridges of each ink color, but they’d dry up if he didn’t use them anyway, so he wasn’t stingy about it, setting the machine to print last night’s data at high quality.

Aura watched in interest as the printer automatically spewed out paper, picking up the pile once it stopped and casting her eyes over it.

“Now, let us test whether your pronunciations are correct. Zenjirou, read from the first line, would you?”

“Sure, I’ll start now. The first entry is from the County of Aubeniz. The yields were sheets of drake parchment numbering one thousand, sacks of wheat numbering two thousand, lumber numbering...”

He continued to read from the display as Aura kept track on the printout. She nodded along, prompting him where necessary and pointing out any issues.

“Ah, that is not Viscount Bonija, it is Viscount Bonilla.”

“Right, it’s a ‘lla’ rather than a ‘ja.’”

Names of places and people were proper nouns, which mean they weren’t part of the “soul of language” and therefore let him hear the intended pronunciations. So it was a good way for him to become familiar with the characters in general.

It also had the benefit of making sure that he would learn the names of those on the reports preferentially. From that perspective, it couldn’t be called a coincidence that Aura had chosen to use recent tax records in his study of their writing system.

After a few hundred words, even though they were in unfamiliar letters, he would be able to more or less read. Regardless, this world wouldn’t have textbooks like Japan did. There were no materials optimized for those just learning the language. It might be inefficient, but it would get him used to it all by brute force.

As Zenjirou was winding down, Aura finally voiced a question. “I noticed there are some numbers written in red, and some in green. What does that mean?”

He smiled unusually slyly at her question. “Oh, those show where there’s a difference in what was written and what the spreadsheet calculated it should be. It makes them easier to spot. When they’re red, it’s lower than expected, and when it’s green, it’s higher.”

“Oh...” Aura mused at his answer, her expression carefully controlled.

These may have been documents submitted to royalty, but the staff couldn’t check every number themselves. After all, there were so many. Recalculating them all would cost a huge amount of manpower and parchment.

Usually, a cursory check was carried out for anything clearly anomalous before checking several sheets at random, although even those random checks somehow seemed to be rarely carried out on the records of influential nobles or estates that had good relations with the examiners.

Zenjirou could use his spreadsheets at will, though, so he was able to easily carry out those kinds of calculations. After all, it simply required making a template and then inputting the data correctly. Anyone who had done a certain amount of office work would be capable of the process.

“Zenjirou, may I borrow this?” Aura asked.

He had been expecting such a question and smiled as blandly as possible as he answered, scratching his head. “Sure. Don’t be too harsh. Well, guess that’s none of my business, really.”

“I will not,” she replied with a ghastly smile on her face.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

That afternoon, Aura was alone in her office with Fabio when she took out the collection of papers she had received from Zenjirou earlier. The secretary remained expressionless, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“What is this, Your Majesty?” he inquired.

“The nobility’s tax records from the previous year. I arranged for my husband to examine them in order for it to act as a guideline for national politics, under the pretense of him using it to learn our writing system. He recalculated it all perfectly over the last several days and has identified issues with some of the values.”

“Did he, now?” Fabio murmured, wariness entering his eyes.

Aura couldn’t contain a reluctant smile at his ever-present caution towards Zenjirou. “As suspicious of my husband as ever, I see. I still do not believe he has ambitions you need to worry about.”

Despite nodding in agreement, Fabio’s answer was stiff. “I am inclined to agree, Your Majesty. My judgment of his actions over the past month suggests that he is unlikely to have ambitions in the political sphere. Yet however low the possibility may be, I cannot definitively say that there is none at all. From what I know of his knowledge and culture, his lack of ambition is rather improbable. I cannot ignore the possibility that his behavior until now has been a well-crafted ruse.”

From Fabio’s perspective, Zenjirou’s attitude was unnatural. A commoner in his position would likely be unable to understand the situation he had been placed in. A noble, on the other hand, would surely have ambitions that corresponded with his abilities and position. A man who understood the ramifications he would have on his surroundings as the queen’s spouse and yet meticulously avoiding harming her political capital was a far-fetched idea.

Of course, it was inevitable that someone from another culture would have different customs, and perhaps his behavior was perfectly normal in his own world. But if he was merely feigning cooperation (and it would be impossible to absolutely deny the possibility of him plotting in secret), they needed someone to maintain a vigilant stance.

“You likely need not concern yourself, Your Majesty. It is exceedingly difficult for someone to hide their thoughts from one with whom they eat and sleep. I will continue my own observations in your stead.”

“Very well, I shall trouble you with it.”

“Indeed, my troubles have been unending since I became your aide,” he agreed wholeheartedly at her appreciative words.

“Would the phrase not usually be something like, ‘Not at all, Your Majesty,’ or ‘For you, Your Majesty, it is no trouble at all,’ if only for formality’s sake?” she asked, a strained smile on her face.

“My duty is to tell things as they are,” he replied with dignity, his face still inscrutable as he shrugged.

Indeed, his blunt reports had been of great help to her on many occasions, so she could hardly refute him. She let out a breath and returned to the topic at hand.

“The ‘numerals’ that my husband’s world uses are quite convenient. I believe it would be advantageous if we could adopt them in some way.”

While Zenjirou had been learning the Capuan writing system, Aura had been learning how to read and use numerals from him. Of course, in contrast to his need to learn the local language, Aura only needed to study ten numbers, from zero to nine, so she had mastered the system quickly. While she couldn’t yet use them for calculations, she had internalized them enough to understand the numerals when they were written.

The tax records she had borrowed from Zenjirou made the system’s simplicity apparent. As an example, you can see the difference by writing any number using numerals and the written word in English. The number 2,932 is shown in four easy digits when using numerals, but when using the alphabet, it becomes ‘two thousand nine hundred and thirty-two,’ taking up far more space.

The tax records contained hundreds of numbers like that, and even if the time taken to read out a single number wasn’t significant, that amount of time increased exponentially when applied to the thousands of numbers involved. Both reading and writing those numbers would be far more efficient if they could introduce Zenjirou’s numerals. There was also a possibility that her husband was right about it creating a class that, while illiterate, could at least perform math.

Of course, Aura couldn’t say whether the creation of such a stratum of citizens would be an advantage or disadvantage to the royal family and the country.

“I see,” Fabio answered after a brief amount of thought. “I agree with the benefits, but I oppose suddenly introducing them to the public. It would invite chaos. However simple they may be to learn, gaining such knowledge from the fundamentals is still a big thing to ask. If you make learning them compulsory, you will face at least some degree of resistance.”

“Hm, I see. I suppose so...” she replied, resting her chin in her hand and thinking. “In which case, we could distribute instructions on how to use them and have any documents that we compose hereafter use both systems. Then we can see how they are received, perhaps?”

“That will still require making them compulsory for those working for the royal family in administrative capacities,” Fabio pointed out calmly.

“Is it unworkable?”

After another moment of thought, her aide shook his head. “No, that much should be doable. I shall make the arrangements at once.”

“Indeed, please do,” Aura nodded in satisfaction.

It was frustrating that she couldn’t introduce the system all at once, but such extreme reforms often failed if they were rushed. In the worst case, it would be better to include numerals as part of standard training from that point onwards, allowing for a new generation of workers who could use them.

But it would be best not to expect visible improvements from the introduction of a new system just yet. If she wanted immediate results then she could demonstrate with the records she had borrowed from Zenjirou.

“It would seem that Margrave Velvidace, Baron Colunga, Lord Knight Tabino, and Lord Knight Gamez all have inexcusable discrepancies within their records,” she observed, her tongue running over her lips as they split into an almost predatory grin.

“Your Majesty,” Fabio countered calmly, “even if that is the case, a precedent has been set of overlooking it. A sudden ramping up of pressure could cause outbursts.”

“I know. I am not so foolish as to suddenly bring them up on charges. I merely intend to use this to indicate our awareness and gain concessions,” she declared, her nostrils flaring.

Humans were amusing. They would delude themselves into believing that their actions were completely legitimate if left unpunished for decades, despite the clearly defined illegality of those actions. Such people would resent you if you were to suddenly bring the law to bear on them, arguing that since you had done nothing for so long, it made no sense to start now.

It was an emotional perspective, but even a monarch could suffer a harsh backlash if they didn’t tread carefully. The ruler and royal family may have had overwhelming power within the kingdom, but not so much that they could risk ignoring collusion between noble families.

“Additionally, the names you mentioned were a large part of why our country emerged victorious from the war.”

“Indeed, I cannot deny the value of their services,” she admitted.

The majority of the remaining nobles were survivors of the war. They were unlikely to be heavily taxing their populations and simply lining their own pockets. Most incompetents who would do so had been unable to maintain their family standings through the war and had mostly fallen into ruin. That was why those who remained were a nuisance.

The names that Aura had mentioned were funneling their misrepresented taxes into their regional armies. The resulting manpower had been indispensable during the war, so she couldn’t say the unpaid taxes weren’t being spent for the benefit of the country.

Still, if those dues were paid legitimately then it would strengthen the royal army. The royal family pledged that national taxes would go to strengthen the kingdom’s military. But the royal army was not flexible enough to protect each individual territory, so the regional lords could not ignore a chance to strengthen their own local troops.

Neither approach was incorrect, so it was inevitable that it would someday cause friction between the royalty and nobility. It was clear that tacitly allowing these tax issues, and therefore the strengthening of regional armies, to continue would eventually create an imbalance of power within the country.

At worst, it could lead to an alliance between the feudal lords and ultimately rebellion against the royal family, and Aura wanted to maintain the ability of the royal army to put down such potential uprisings. At present, there was no one who would see such conflicts as anything but futile, but there was no guarantee of their successors, or even later generations, all sharing that level of intelligence.

“The law is still the law,” she declared. “I will make allowances so that their honor and good names are not impinged upon, but there must be a reckoning.”

Fabio fell into a brief silence. “In that case, what do you think of directly informing them that irregularities have been discovered and requesting their voluntary cooperation to avoid such concerns in future?” he finally suggested.

“That seems to be an appropriate response. Very well, I shall leave the details to you.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

That topic dealt with for the time being, Aura brought up another. “Oh, yes, what of the tutor for my husband? I presume the majority of candidates have been gathered?”

“Indeed,” her aide answered, not missing a beat at the sudden shift in topic. “There were three self-recommendations and thirty-one nominations. Most of them are young, unmarried women with large amounts of magic.”

Aura let out a scornful laugh at the blatant attempts of those aiming for concubine status. “Good grief, do they take me for a fool? Either they are simply incompetent, not recognizing my aim at all, or merely annoying if they have understood but are still working towards their own goals.”

The nobles were ignoring their ruler’s desires and sending in people to become Zenjirou’s concubine. Despite the worthy cause of maintaining the royal and noble bloodlines, it was clearly inviting conflict with the queen to some extent.

“I think that rather than taking you for a fool, the prospect of becoming Sir Zenjirou’s concubine is a greater incentive than your anger is a deterrent.”

She snorted unhappily at that. “I doubt he is so careless as to be manipulated by someone pulling a concubine’s strings.”

“I quite agree, although our personal knowledge of him is what enables us to say that.”

“Likely so, yes. Well, I suppose we shall have to contact Lady Pasquala and request her assistance,” she replied, stretching in her seat to work out the kinks in her muscles.

Fabio opened his mouth, rather more hesitantly than he usually would. “Pardon, but there is at least one suggestion we cannot ignore. Count Márquez has nominated his wife, Lady Octavia. You may well be aware that she is considered a model noblewoman. Her intelligence, decorum, and skill with magic are beyond reproach. Furthermore, with her already being married, it theoretically suits your own intentions.”

“That swine!” Aura choked out at the unexpected name.

Octavia was a married woman, well educated, comported herself well, and excelled at magic. With those factors taken into account, she did indeed fulfill Aura’s requirements. That was, of course, if you ignored the fact that, despite being married to Count Márquez, she was his second wife and still in her early twenties. Along with her beauty and tendency to defer to men, she had been a darling of the court until she had married a few years ago. Raffaello Márquez, Aura’s former marriage candidate, was actually older than his stepmother.

“Does he intend to send his own wife into an affair?” she asked, aghast.

“No. This is only my personal opinion, but I don’t believe that to be the case when we consider Count Márquez’s personality. As I am sure you are aware, Lady Octavia is perhaps the ideal noblewoman by our country’s standards. She naturally supports men and makes them feel important, and is skilled at giving them confidence. With such a woman having prolonged close contact with Sir Zenjirou, I believe the count may be aiming to inspire some assertiveness within him, to create a fissure in your relationship.”

Most men would become full of themselves if they were constantly flattered, praised, and looked upon respectfully, and would eventually decide that they could make their own decisions. By guiding Zenjirou’s thoughts in that direction, the Márquez family hoped to instill an interest in politics in him, making him an ideal patsy; a direct line to royal authority. To put it more crudely, the count’s goal, by Fabio’s reckoning, was to “pull Zenjirou out from under the queen.”

If that were the case, then the issue was that, aside from Count Márquez’s black heart, Octavia herself was not at all malicious, and it would be she who bore the brunt of the consequences. If Aura’s estimation of the woman’s character was correct, she would have no ulterior motive of her own and would simply do her utmost to act as Zenjirou’s tutor. Ostensibly, she was indeed the ideal choice.

“What are your thoughts, Your Majesty? We can concoct some reason to refuse her.”

Somewhat displeased by her secretary’s expression, Aura shook her head.

“No, there is no benefit to inviting the count’s displeasure like that. Whatever else, he will have to show himself eventually. I can hardly continue refusing each and every thing requested of me when it comes to Sir Zenjirou. Count Márquez at her back or not, if there are no issues with Lady Octavia herself then it may even be advantageous for my husband to have her as his instructor. Accept her.”

“At once, Your Majesty. I shall begin the preparations immediately,” Fabio responded with a courteous bow.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

There was a slight feeling of tension pervading the inner palace. It was the first time since Zenjirou’s arrival that an outsider would set foot within, as it had thus far been occupied exclusively by Zenjirou, Aura, and their attendants.

Zenjirou sank into a sofa as he took yet another deep breath. A tutor, huh? I never thought I’d be taking up studying again at this age. Although, I guess I used to have training here and there for work, which is similar.

He had a fair amount of external experience as well, and while he wasn’t unused to meeting new people, this would be the first time he would be the “superior” in the relationship.

They had decided the appliances he had brought would be too alluring for outsiders, so he was waiting in an ordinary room of the inner palace. The heat in there, without the blessing of the makeshift cooler, had him sweating constantly, and he was rehydrating by drinking water with the appropriate amounts of sugar and salt mixed in.

Need to remember, can’t be too respectful, and I shouldn’t give my name until they give theirs. Also can’t be too rude or overbearing... this is extremely tricky.

“Excuse me,” came a voice as he was going over the fundamentals Aura had drilled into him, “Lady Octavia has arrived. May I show her in?”

“Do so,” Zenjirou replied after clearing his throat, speaking in a commanding tone for once.

His habits from his years of employment in Japan had him automatically rising from his seat to greet his guest at the door, but he realized his mistake as he stood and waited next to the sofa instead.

The door opened with a clatter and a woman entered the room.

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Sir Zenjirou. I am Octavia, the wife of Count Manuel Márquez, the lord of the Márquez county of Capua. I have been entrusted with the role of tutor on this occasion, and it is my honor to carry out that duty. Despite my shortcomings and feeble skills, I shall do my utmost to aid you,” she said in a soft tone before bowing deeply.

Huh, “shortcomings” and “feeble skills”? I guess humility is considered a virtue here too, he thought to himself.

Zenjirou had read about countries even on Earth where such “humility” wouldn’t be communicated and, with those thoughts in mind, gave an order in as dignified a voice as he could manage.

“Raise your head.”

“At once,” Octavia, raising her head as smoothly as she had lowered it.

Right, so this is what the kingdom considers “a model woman.” I can certainly see why.

The words that came to Zenjirou’s mind upon meeting her were “slender,” “pure,” and “chaste.” She wasn’t overly tall and was of average height from his perspective, maybe 160 cm or so. She had narrow, gently sloping shoulders which lent her a slighter appearance than her height would imply. She had glossy, straight black hair and dark, jet-black eyes the likes of which you rarely saw in Japanese people. In contrast to her hair and eye color, she had very pale skin for someone from the southern countries, a light brown tone that was closer to the color of cream.

Her nose was prominent, but most of her other features were smooth, close to what you would expect of a tanned Japanese person. Although nowadays, if you wanted to see such a beauty, you would generally need to visit a modeling or acting agency.

“I am Zenjirou, Queen Aura’s husband. I do not know how long our acquaintance will be, but I would like for it to be a fruitful one.”

“Likewise, my thanks for your courtesy to one such as myself,” Octavia answered, bowing her head again at his efforts.

Conversing without humbling himself was actually wearing on his mind more than he had expected.

“Then let’s hear your thoughts first. Sit,” he offered, spurred away from his plan by the fatigue of holding such a conversation.

“Ah? Certainly, excuse me,” she replied, surprised by his words for a moment before remembering why she was there, and sat down on the sofa. With the table between them, Octavia explained how and what she would be teaching him about manners, etiquette, and magic.

“So, you’ll essentially be teaching me history and magic, and if I start acting outside of what etiquette dictates then you’ll point it out?” he asked, putting together what she’d said and summarizing it.

He received a gentle smile in response. “Indeed. Just hearing about manners does not mean that you will retain them. You seem to have a good grasp on the basic framework, so I believe it to be a good plan.”

“And I will be taking lunch with you from now on?”

“You will. Eating with someone will enable you to focus on and practice the etiquette you learn. I feel this is the optimal way for you to master these things.”

It made sense, as manners weren’t something that became ingrained just by hearing about them. He would try, make mistakes, have those mistakes pointed out, correct them, and refine his behaviors. It would take time but was likely the best way.

Yet thinking of how he would be spending his lunches, watched over by his teacher, made him feel uneasy. At the very least, it wouldn’t be an enjoyable time that made his heart soar like the days he spent with Aura. But Zenjirou wasn’t prideful enough to refuse a good opportunity to learn for such selfish reasons.

“Very well, if you believe that to be the optimum choice then I have no objections. Continue as you’ve planned.”

Octavia gave another soft smile at that and bowed once more. “My thanks. Then we will begin at once. When I arrived, you rose from the sofa to greet me, correct?”

“Oh?!” Zenjirou couldn’t help but exclaim at her immediate quibble.

Octavia continued carefully, making certain that her tone betrayed no hint of censure. “I am exceedingly grateful that you would be so polite to one such as me, but actions like that carry the risk of others taking you lightly. As a rule, the only person you should stand to greet is Queen Aura. Other than foreign royals, monarchs, and the first in line to the throne, there is no need for you to be so polite.

“Also, you bade me sit while you still stood. This is a needless courtesy as well. Your behavior and demeanor will change based on who you are faced with, so I would never dream of dictating such things, but a royal should appear more settled.”

“Got it, I’ll take more care,” he replied with a nod. He managed to smooth over his expression but would have liked to cover his face and fall to the floor.

Damn... I was trying to be careful, but I guess my habits from work are showing up.

When he was at work, he’d never have presumed to sit down before a client, and apparently, such habits were harder to break than he’d imagined.

Octavia seemed to be looking through him as she smiled consolingly, and moved on to the next topic with a calm voice. “Now, today I wish to start by explaining the basics of magic. Should there be anything you find unclear, or any questions that you have, do not hesitate to ask. I shall answer your queries to the best of my ability.”

“Right, please do.”

“Sir, that request...”

“R-right. Um, then... you may speak, begin your explanation,” Zenjirou corrected himself, clearing his throat to distract from his immediate mistake.

His response seemed to be correct this time as Octavia gave a small nod and continued in her pleasant voice, explaining things thoroughly. “I shall begin with the fundamentals. Magic is divided into two main categories. The first is magic that essentially anyone can use, elemental magic. The other is lineal magic, which only people from certain bloodlines can use.”

“Do you mean earth, water, fire, and air by ‘elemental,’ and things like space-time magic by ‘lineal’?” Zenjirou interjected, but Octavia showed no displeasure at the interruption and simply smiled.

“I do indeed. However, ignoring the fact that lineal magic can only be used by those of a certain bloodline, the basics are not fundamentally different from elemental magic. There are three conditions necessary for a successful invocation. The correct pronunciation, the correct understanding, and the correct amount of mana.”

“Pronunciation, understanding, and mana?” he asked. From what little he’d heard so far, it seemed like the kind of magic you’d find in games and books, but it was nothing tangible.

Fortunately, his beautiful teacher seemed to intuit his lack of understanding and began to explain things more deeply. “First is the language you use while casting magic. It is a language that is simply called the Arcane Tongue, but without this language, you cannot use magic. Please observe.”

She raised her index finger into the air and chanted, “O unseen water scattered throughout the sky, gather at my fingertip and form a sphere. As compensation, I present eighteen offerings of mana to the spirits of water.”

As soon as Zenjirou heard those words, a round droplet of water formed on her finger.

“Agh?!” he gasped, not even having time to be surprised by what was happening as he gripped his head. What was that?! She only opened her mouth for a moment but it sounded stupidly long?

He could swear that his instructor hadn’t actually been speaking for long enough to utter so many words.

Octavia placed the water into her now-empty teacup and bowed deeply to a bewildered Zenjirou. “My deepest apologies for my imprudence. The Arcane Tongue changes in meaning with the slightest alteration in pronunciation, stress, or how each syllable is punctuated. Commensurately, you can convey an extraordinary amount of meaning in a short sound. This means that the first time you hear such a large amount of information in such a small amount of sound, it can be uncomfortable. I erred, and can only once more offer my apologies,” she said with a bow of her head that was so deep it exposed the back of her neck.

Zenjirou shook his head lightly. “If that’s true, I wouldn’t have been able to avoid it when I learned magic either way. It was indeed a mistake not to warn me first, but your apology is sufficient. Continue.”

She nodded gratefully at his forbearance and did so. “My thanks for your leniency. I shall take care that such an omission does not take place in the future.”

“Very well,” he allowed placidly, taken aback by the grandiose apology but trying to keep those feelings off his face.

It had definitely been careless on her part, but she’d been under the assumption that most people would be somewhat used to the phenomenon, and could not have predicted that the sensation would be new to Zenjirou.

The existence of the soul of language was a given in this world, so there would be few who were discomfited by a difference in the amount of sound they heard and the amount of information actually being conveyed. The number of people for whom it would feel like a blow to the head was even less. So from that perspective, you could say that both of them had simply been unlucky with that first demonstration.

“I shall continue. Just then, I used the correct pronunciation and correct understanding with the correct amount of mana to cast magic that created a ball of water. I shall now purposely make a mistake with each of those three things.”

She once more raised her right index finger and chanted, “Uhl magoh.”

It was an unintelligible, short sound that reached Zenjirou’s ears, but nothing happened.

“I simply pronounced the words slightly wrong, and that small change was enough to render them meaningless, and the spell did not function. Now, I shall pronounce it correctly but use an incorrect understanding.”

Once more, she raised her finger and briefly opened her mouth.

“O unseen water scattered throughout the sky, gather at my fingertip and form a sphere. As compensation, I present eighteen offerings of mana to the spirits of water.”

This time, as with the first, the full meaning echoed in his ears, but no water appeared on her finger.

“On that occasion, I said it correctly but imagined the results of a different spell, leading to what you just saw. Finally, I shall complete the chanting and understanding steps correctly, but offer the wrong amount of mana.”

“O unseen water scattered throughout the sky, gather at my fingertip and form a sphere. As compensation, I present eighteen offerings of mana to the spirits of water.”

Zenjirou heard the chant for the fourth time, and the meaning was once again clear to him, but there was no effect.

With a small smile on her face, Octavia looked at him and explained. “While I said that I would present eighteen offerings of mana, I instead provided twenty, and the spell failed as a result.”

Zenjirou had listened in understanding up to that point, but the surprise of her last statement made him speak up. “Wait a minute, you’re not allowed to provide too much mana either?”

He forgot to moderate his tone and Octavia nodded. “Correct, whether you offer too much or too little, the magic will not work. A slight difference in a large amount of mana may be overlooked, but delicate magic is strict with the amount of mana used. That is why spellcasters with large mana pools often have difficulty with delicate magic like this. Of course, there are exceptions, like Royal Magister Espiridion.”

The explanation made sense, since you wouldn’t even need to think if you were asked whether it was easier to fill a cup to the rim with a 200 ml bottle or a 10 L water can.

The rational part of his mind comprehended her explanation while the rest of him let the words flow over him. He was rather excited about being able to use magic himself someday. But people with large amounts of mana like him struggled with delicate spells, so would he ever really have the opportunity to use it, considering he would not often be leaving the inner palace?

“So, does that mean people with lots of mana are unsuited to learning general magic?” he inquired.

“Yes, I have heard that Her Majesty cannot use magic outside of space-time and wide-area annihilation fire magic. Of course, such spells do not only require large stores of mana, but also exceedingly long incantations, so it can take several months to learn the correct pronunciations.”

The more he heard, the further away the day he could make use of it seemed. “Then, frankly speaking, if I started learning magic today, how long would it take for me to be able to cast anything?” he asked, having at some point forgotten that the main goals of their lessons were manners and etiquette.

Octavia could well understand what he was asking and, in accordance with her role as an instructor, could not lie, simply shrinking in on herself slightly as she answered. “Well... to accurately judge the amount of mana you use, you first need to be cognizant of your own reserves and able to manipulate them at will. Normally, the former takes two years, and the latter an additional year, I would estimate.”

“Three years...” he groaned.

Octavia hurriedly moved to reassure him. “Ah, but at that point, the rest is relatively simple. You just need to memorize the correct incantation and mentally envision a clear image of the result, then provide the correct amount of mana. You should be able to learn a simple spell within a day.”

She suddenly seemed to remember she had just told him that people with a surfeit of mana like him were ill-suited to simple spells, and looked up apologetically. Her expression calmed him down. If he thought about it, he didn’t need to learn magic, it was just better that a member of the royal family with so much mana learned to use it. Whether it took three or five years to do so didn’t matter.

Either way, guess it won’t be useful in my day-to-day life.

At present, Zenjirou was ignorant of the possibilities provided by the magic dwelling within his veins, so he easily discarded them. “Got it, then I’ll take it slow. Guide me well, Octavia.”

“I shall; please leave it to me,” she said sincerely, smiling gently at the queen’s spouse as he quickly recentered himself.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Later that day, Octavia’s first lesson had finished without incident. Now released from the strain of the last several hours, Zenjirou was lounging in another room with his wife. Having just left the bath, he had his customary can of low-malt beer in hand, and Aura was holding a glass of brandy in front of her face, savoring the mellow fragrance.

Several days had seen her finish the bottle of white wine, and the next thing she’d chosen was the boxed brandy. This world didn’t really have a concept of distilled spirits, so she had choked on her first sip due to its strength. Once she had grown accustomed to it, however, she much preferred the taste.

She drank it straight, just like Zenjirou’s vague memories said it should be consumed. The tendency to drink it at room temperature, which he had also informed her of, was ill-fitting for the heat in the Kingdom of Capua, though, so she preferred to cool it in the fridge first.

She slowly let the drink pass down her throat as she enjoyed its rich amber color under the lamps.

“Hey, is it really that tasty?” Zenjirou asked.

“Indeed, it has a surprisingly exquisite scent,” she answered with a nod, “and a rich flavor. I am quite enamored with it now that I am used to the drink.”

“Oh, does it now?”

Truthfully, Zenjirou didn’t really know the difference between brandy and whiskey, so he couldn’t parse her impressions of it. The drink was called Hennessy XO, and a single bottle cost over 10,000 yen.

Well, connoisseurs knew their drinks. Zenjirou, very much not a connoisseur, was quite happy with his chilled beer.

Having drained her glass, Aura placed it on the table and turned to her husband. “So, how was it? I would like to hear your opinions.”

Zenjirou was somewhat surprised by the sudden change in subject but shifted the can away from his mouth and answered honestly. “Ah, right. If I had to sum it up, I’d call it more tiring than I was prepared for. I was focusing on everything, trying so hard not to offend, and I honestly barely remember eating at lunch.”

“I’ve caused you a great deal of bother.”

“It’s fine. I need to learn it, right? Besides, the lecture on magic was interesting. Even if it did put me out a bit when I heard it’d take more than three years before I can use any myself,” he said, waving his free hand at Aura.

He had actually been very excited about seeing magic firsthand. Going from his original world to this one had been a display of magic, of course, but he was the focus of the spells, so hadn’t seen any of it actually happen. In contrast, the magic that Octavia had shown him, with an orb of water floating atop her finger, was much more clearly magic. In terms of persuasion, it was far, far more convincing.

“Well, there are no shortcuts. If you wish to learn it, you must put in an earnest effort. But it is something that anyone can learn if they simply dedicate the time. If you have the commitment to follow through, I am certain your efforts will not be wasted,” she encouraged, burying her husband’s arm within her chest to console him.

“Aura...” he murmured. He lowered his guard at the soft sensations, and the queen smiled slightly meanly as she whispered into his ear.

“So, what did you think of Lady Octavia? Was she easy on your eyes?”

Hearing another woman’s name from his wife’s lips made him flinch reflexively, being a man, despite his lack of guilt.

“Hmm, so, how was she?” the queen pressed, holding him tightly so that he couldn’t escape.

Zenjirou’s gaze sought the ceiling as he answered. “Well, yeah, she definitely was beautiful, and really nice. Yup, I can see why her type is so popular in the country.”

“Oh?” Her musing words seemed to be at a lower pitch than usual. “So you mean she was attractive to you as well?”

Aura wasn’t unconfident, but she was aware that she was the opposite of Octavia, and her tone had turned searching.

Zenjirou wasn’t so dense that he missed his wife’s worsening mood. “Nah, she’s in my strike zone, yeah, but kinda borderline. Like she’d have trouble hitting a four-seamer if she missed her swing.”

Unfortunately, his flustered justification was impossible to understand for someone of this world. It was just a barrage of incomprehensible words to Aura. Even so, his tone and overall impression let her know what he was trying to say.

A grin on her lips, she asked again, wanting it put more bluntly. “And what does that mean? Word it a little more clearly.”

His instinctive reaction was to declare, “As if I can.” He wasn’t able to ignore his embarrassment enough to say something like, ‘You’re the only one I love,’ or ‘You’re far prettier.’

“Hm? Well, clearly, right?” he said, still focusing on the ceiling and not looking at his wife as she rocked against him in enjoyment, finding a compromise between his embarrassment and her desires. “Umm, well... you know. If it was Octavia who had summoned me rather than you, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

As he spoke, he could feel his cheeks reddening. Would she be satisfied with that? He hoped so, because if she wanted him to be even more direct, he might just die of shame. His face still pointing skyward, he glanced over at her. Her red hair was swaying in the corner of his eye.

“Ahaha... ahaha, I see, I see,” she murmured happily. Apparently, it had indeed been enough to move her heart. “I too,” she continued, “am fortunate beyond words that it was you I summoned.”

Her piece said, she pressed a passionate kiss to his cheek.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Having fallen asleep in bed with her husband, Aura opened her eyes in the dead of night and carefully got up, ensuring that she didn’t wake Zenjirou.

The bedroom had lights, but she couldn’t use them while he was sleeping. She felt around in the pitch-black room and her hands found a soft piece of cloth. She picked up the thin, smooth clothing—the negligee that Zenjirou had brought—and a smile made its way onto her face.

She had worn that lascivious dress before they’d retired for the night, in gratitude for Zenjirou’s earlier answer, and his reaction had been so entertaining she had wanted to immortalize it with that “digicam” of his.

She hadn’t been able to restrain her laugh as he let out what was practically a yelp rather than any actual words. He hadn’t thought that she would be unaware of the sexy nightwear (having examined all of his luggage when he’d arrived), but her wearing it of her own volition was a rather effective surprise attack.

It was a somewhat bizarre situation when the one who was fighting against a tide of crimson upon their face along with the accompanying shame was Zenjirou, despite it being Aura who was wearing the embarrassing clothing. Regardless, Zenjirou had certainly been provoked by the sight of his wife in the bewitching negligee, and their night together had been slightly more intense than usual, and had lasted longer as well.

Remembering the evening’s activities made her pause as her face relaxed. She set the sheer lingerie aside and searched for the house dress she had been wearing before.

A short time later, she had found it and carried it, still nude, away from the bed. She picked her way across the room, slowly, carefully, quietly, all to ensure that Zenjirou didn’t wake. Finally reaching the door, she succeeded in leaving the bedchamber without her husband noticing.

Once she stood within the living room, she switched a single lamp on and quickly dressed in its illumination. Now clad in a blue, sleeveless gown, Aura seated herself on a leather-covered sofa and rang a bell on the table.

A few moments later, a young maid entered. She had relied upon the candle in her hand for illumination in the dark corridors, and she squinted slightly in the much brighter light from the lamp.

A striking woman with long, blonde hair—a rarity in the kingdom—she had originally been Aura’s attendant but now worked closest to Zenjirou.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty.”

Aura spared a glance at the woman as she bowed respectfully. “I would hear your report.”

In accordance with her liege’s words, the maid began to speak of what she had witnessed that day, doing her utmost to remain objective. “At once. From what I observed, Lady Octavia made no suspicious advances and appeared to be faithfully carrying out her role as Sir Zenjirou’s tutor,” she reported. She had entered the study session on several occasions during their session, bringing water, towels, and the like.

“Hmm, I see. Then perhaps she truly is being used for reconnaissance?” Aura mused.

Octavia had always been a straightforward woman, unsuited to scheming. Count Márquez may also have simply wanted his wife’s impression of the kind of person “the queen’s husband” was. It was something to remain wary of, but she most likely wouldn’t need to be quite so focused on it.

“Understood. Hereafter, only report if Lady Octavia does something suspicious.”

“By your will, milady,” the maid bowed.

Aura gave a noise of satisfaction before continuing. “Now, how has my husband spent his days? Has he become involved with anyone?”

This was a question she had asked the servants several times. Historically, the kings who didn’t turn their attentions to the maids of the inner palace were in the minority. And unlike those kings, Zenjirou was living here full time rather than merely visiting. It was almost less natural for him to not ogle the servants. Yet still, once more, the maid shook her head and offered the same answer as always.

“No, there has been no one Sir Zenjirou has laid a hand upon, nor even looked at in that way. Actually, he seems to dislike us even entering his room, so we avoid going in without a direct order. He also moves to another room when we come in to clean.”

The lord of the palace moving from one room to another because the maids were cleaning sounded absurd, but it was another part of his life in Japan that Zenjirou simply couldn’t shake. It was almost like a man being chased out by his wife’s vacuuming.

Aura nodded at the report and gave her instructions. “I see. I am repeating myself, but my husband is someone who finds it difficult to ask for things or demand that something be done. He even seems to regard such behavior as a ‘vice.’ It may be difficult to serve such a person, but I ask that you act to preempt his desires and fulfill his wishes.”

“We shall, ma’am.”

“Very well, you may go. Good work.”

“I will take my leave then, ma’am,” the maid said with a bow before departing, her report successfully delivered.

The door closed behind her with a clunk, and Aura let out a breath. “I am parched... perhaps a glass of water,” she said, suddenly aware of her thirst.

She took a metal pitcher from the fridge and poured it into a glass, then quaffed the drink and muttered to herself in the dimly lit room. “So... Zenjirou has no eyes for either Lady Octavia or the maids...”

She had wrapped her arms around her body at some point. The same body that Zenjirou had made love to that very night, as he had on many others. Even now, the sensation of his fingers and lips over her body remained, so she knew just how passionately he could seek a woman.

Yet despite that, the man had no eyes for anyone but her.

She broke out into a chuckle. How could she describe these feelings? She had never expected the love of a man to be so pleasant. It was a warmth within her, different from the sense of fulfillment that she gained from governance, and different from the gentle heat of a serving of wine to commemorate a military victory.

Putting it less pleasantly, it was a type of superiority. The joy of a single man seeing her charm as a woman, and the ecstasy of him seeing her as the greatest woman.

“Curses, I rather wish to monopolize him now,” she murmured.

If she lost herself in these thoughts, she might react reflexively when it came time for Zenjirou to take a concubine. She couldn’t hide her rampaging emotions, though. The most unexpected part of it was that those feelings were immensely pleasant to her.

“Well, regardless. There is no need to worry about future possibilities just yet,” she said, shaking her head and extinguishing the light before feeling her way back to the other room.

Once she reached her bed, she stripped off the dress and slid her sensuous skin onto the mattress where Zenjirou still lay. She chuckled again, embracing him and pressing her bare breasts into his back.

“Mmh...”

He didn’t have a particularly broad back for a man, but it was strangely comforting to her, holding him like this. It felt like she was where she belonged. And indeed, pressing herself to his back like this, it didn’t take her long to fall into a peaceful sleep.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Several days had passed since Zenjirou had first started learning from Octavia. He had just seen his beloved wife off to work and was using his computer to make the most of his time alone before Octavia arrived.

He was currently playing back a video that he’d made with Aura, something to help him learn culture and etiquette. Of course, the issue of the sound recorded by the camera not being subject to the soul of language was still there, but a little thought bore a simple solution.

Zenjirou would just have to parrot Aura’s explanation in Japanese.

“Cuando te invitan a un baile, la persona con la que bailas la primera y la última canción...”

“Um, when you are invited to a dance, the person you dance with for the first and last songs...”

Following the unfamiliar sounds of the native language from Aura, he heard himself speaking in Japanese. He didn’t particularly enjoy listening to his own voice, but he couldn’t deny the utility of the process. He just needed to ignore his discomfort.

As he worked, there came a knock at the door.

“Excuse me, sir, but Lady Octavia has arrived.”

“Ah, okay, I’ll be right there,” he said, turning off the computer and standing up.

His computer, watch, and phone all had accurate clocks on them, but he was the only one who knew the time to the minute, so there was no point in worrying about the exact hour.

“Right, let’s go,” he said to himself.

He opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Beyond was a familiar blonde maid, bowing. He had been at a loss over how to interact with the servants at first, but by now had more or less gotten used to their behavior.

“Good work. If you’d clean the rooms now...”

“Right away, sir.”

Per his preference, they stayed out of his room as much as possible, and he treated them like hotel staff, keeping an appropriate distance.

His attitude might have been a bit relaxed for the lord of the palace, but this was supposed to be his home, and putting on airs would wear on him mentally. Fortunately, the attendants had been carefully selected by Aura and could be trusted not to let anything slip, so slight flaws in his behavior weren’t a problem.

I finished the review from yesterday. Man, I want to finish the etiquette stuff this morning, then I can use everything afterwards for a lecture on magic. Right, lunch is more than three hours, so if I can meet up with Aura, I should prepare for the magic studies, that way I should be able to progress further in the afternoon...

Zenjirou walked down the corridor as he planned out the most efficient use of his day. If he used his spare time for review, he could learn faster, and then preparing for his afternoon lessons on magic would be even more effective.

Seeing industriousness as a virtue, a perspective fostered over the past twenty-four years, wasn’t something that was easily reversed. He seemed to have forgotten that he had come here to get away from needing to worry about “making the most of his time.”

While Zenjirou received his lessons, the maids would clean the living room and bedrooms. Attendants dedicated to the inner palace, they had the skill not to bring shame to their positions, but cleaning those rooms was a little different from the norm.

“You know the rules, correct? Simply wipe Sir Zenjirou’s things; absolutely do not use water.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the other maids answered the refined middle-aged woman who was in charge of cleaning.

It would have been difficult to teach them all how to deal with the electronics, so Zenjirou had just told them that dusting would be enough, and not to use water to clean things. Even amongst his appliances, there were only a few that could be damaged by water, but it would be easier to deal with it all himself than to point out each off-limit item to the maids.

The older woman kept an eye on the others as they cleaned, doing her own work at the same time. She fixed a glare on a group that had all the appearance of working busily and called out to them.

“You three! How many of you does it take to clean a table?! ‘One’ is the answer. Hurry up and finish there!”

The three in front of the table with Zenjirou’s computer flinched at her reprimand, ducking their heads. Zenjirou had been sitting there just before, which meant the fan was still spinning with a partially melted lump of ice in front of it. There was already another batch of water currently in a metal tin in the freezer, which would have solidified by the time Zenjirou returned. So he had given permission for the maids to do as they wished with the partly-used hunk of ice on the desk.

He had also told them they could use the chilled towels in the fridge as long as it was in moderation. Having the maids who were working in his room wiping off their own sweat kept things more hygienic for him and Aura.

“His permission to use the remnants of ice only holds true once we are finished. Using your lord’s tools to cool down while shirking your responsibilities is inappropriate,” she said, mercilessly opening the window shutters and allowing a hot blast of air to fill the room.

“Gah?!”

“No, just a bit more!”

“Nooo, my ice, it’s mellllting...”

The three maids who had been feigning work and savoring the cooling breeze despaired exaggeratedly. The temperature was relatively restrained in the mornings, but it was still already over 30 degrees.

The middle-aged woman faced the three and put her hands upon her hips as she remonstrated with them. “Cease your prattling. We shan’t be able to see what is dirty without the sunlight. Turn the lights off; I’m sure you know how?”

“We dooo.”

“Then I shall clean the floor over there.”

“Agh, my ice! My precious ice...”

Once she had seen the three problem children return to work, the older woman let out a sigh. “Honestly, those three, I can’t take my eyes off them for an instant.”

When they had first been appointed to the inner palace, the girls had been nervous and stiff, doing their utmost not to invite their otherworldly lord’s displeasure. But when it came down to it, he was so easygoing that it was almost anticlimactic. He wasn’t selfish and would laugh off most mistakes. He also rarely called upon them, so the young maids had seemingly lost their sense of professionalism in less than a month.

The three in question were the most lax of the group, but all of the younger attendants were a similar source of concern at this point.

“How unfortunate, to think that these are the girls honored with serving the inner palace,” she grumbled as she wiped the sofa down with practiced movements.

Once they were done with the living room, the bedroom was next.

“Ugh...”

“Yet again...”

“Ahahaha, her Majesty and Sir Zenjirou sure get along well.”

The trio had strained smiles upon their faces at the usual scent wafting from the bed. The sheets, along with the nightwear and underwear in the basket next to the bed, when coupled with the smell, told the story of just how well their queen and prince consort had gotten along the night before.

“It’s wonderful. At this rate, we may be able to expect an heir rather soon,” said the older woman with a satisfied nod.

Of course, as citizens of the country, they were happy to know their queen and her husband had a good relationship, but it was a somewhat complicated feeling for young women who took pride in their looks. They were currently wearing maid uniforms, which covered rather less of the body than the style’s roots in the northern continent would suggest. The bright blue skirts barely reached their knees, and their arms were completely uncovered. The outfits weren’t cut to emphasize the bust or waist, but the uniform should still have been rather charming on a young maid.

Yet despite that, their lord had yet to lay even a finger on them. If he was simply unconcerned with women, that would be one thing, but the proof of his relationship with their queen was always visible in the bedroom. It wasn’t that they necessarily wanted to “serve” him in that way, but the utter lack of interest hurt their womanly pride a bit.

“Come on, we don’t have much time. Let’s finish this quickly. Change the sheets, wash the laundry, return the laundered clothes to the dresser.”

“Right.”

“Understood.”

“Hah, this room’s a little cooler...”

The bedroom was smaller than the living room, so even with washing and changing the sheets, it wouldn’t take half the time to finish.

With familiar movements, they got to work fulfilling their duties.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

That afternoon, Zenjirou had finished his etiquette lesson with Octavia and was relaxing in the freshly-cleaned living room.

It was still daytime, so the drinks in the glasses that he and Aura held were not alcoholic, but rather water and fruit juice with ice floating in them.

They were resting, Aura tired from government affairs and Zenjirou weary from his lessons, sitting side by side and watching the TV. The voices were of course in Japanese, and without the soul of language working on them, Aura was unable to understand, but the dialogue didn’t matter much for what the two were watching.

After staring at the screen in silence for a while, the queen exclaimed, “Right, I have it!”

“No way, again? Don’t tell me, don’t you dare!” he cried out in surprise and agitation before turning back to the screen intensely.

The aim was to determine which part of the image was gradually changing within a time limit, and Aura was far better at it despite it being her first time and Zenjirou having brought it there. It must have been down to a basic difference in their skills of observation and attentiveness.

“Indeed, I shall not, no... The light pink flower in the bottom right certainly does draw the eye.”

“Argh! Aura, no fair!”

The two of them had the kind of relaxed expressions on their faces that they could never show outside.

After a while, the TV and game were switched off, and Aura spoke to Zenjirou where he sat next to her, as she inclined her glass of iced water.

“So, how are things progressing? From our discussion last night, you should be quite proficient with your etiquette now.”

He nodded in satisfaction at her question. “Yeah, apparently I’m proficient as of this morning or so. Well, at least enough that I shouldn’t embarrass you.”

“Oh, I am glad to hear it. So, you will strictly be learning magic this afternoon?” she asked with a smile, considering things mentally. He is as diligent as ever. He may not realize it himself, but he always does his utmost to complete his responsibilities, when given them, to the best of his ability.

She had subordinates like that, but they were surprisingly difficult to get the best use out of. They made every effort, so they were useful, but they wouldn’t complain too much, so their superiors had to be careful to allocate their tasks properly or they would work themselves into the ground.

Ignorant of her thoughts, Zenjirou gave a smile as he answered in turn. “Yeah, that’s right. So, could you tell me a bit about it now? The main bottleneck is the short-lived nature of the results, right? I heard the first things to overcome that were the Twin Kingdom’s enchantment magic and our space-time magic. Does that mean space-time magic does what the name implies and can affect time as well as space?”

Aura couldn’t hide an exasperated smile at his preparations for the afternoon lessons. “Come now, save the learning for later. You are with your wife now, not your tutor.”

His minimum qualifications for etiquette meant that he could finally appear publicly and at important events. He would soon be far busier, but if he kept up this pace, he wouldn’t last.

It would appear I was correct. She would have to keep an eye on him to ensure that he didn’t overwork himself.

“Ah, yeah, right. I am.”

With the sensation of his wife’s body against his right arm, his face relaxed as thoughts of what he wanted to ask before his lesson slipped from his mind.

Next to him, Aura rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his back, pulling him closer. Their respective hints of warmth through the thin clothing were pleasant, and both husband and wife were lost for words, simply closing their eyes and luxuriating together in the comfortable embrace.

Eventually, the soft sounds of sleep rose from Zenjirou’s mouth.

“Mmm, so you fell asleep...” Aura murmured happily when she noticed, wrapping her arms around him and once more closing her own eyes.

No words broke the silence that fell over the room as the two made up for their lack of sleep the night before, the only sounds their deep breaths as they slept.

A few days remained before the queen’s husband would have to make his debut, and he would spend the time peacefully.

To be continued in The Ideal Sponger Life 2.