Thanks to the exquisite moonlight, Asteria shone in a brilliant white glow.
“So. How long are you just going to admire my beauty?”
Had I been staring too absentmindedly?
She looked like a goddess had descended.
“… Come in.”
“Thank you.”
The princess entered with a charming stride, crossing her legs as she sat in front of the table.
“Haah. It was so hard in the North. You have no idea how much I missed you.”
“Has the duchy stabilized?”
“Of course. Who do you think I am? I worked tirelessly, even through the night, just to see you sooner.”
“That’s wonderful news.”
I know better than anyone that Asteria flirts as a form of jesting.
In fact, she was the one who confessed first when we met.
In a way, she’s even more of a confession machine than Pongpong.
Although, she certainly surpasses him in appearance, body, and status.
‘But make one wrong move, and you’ll get devoured.’
I casually matched her banter as I prepared some tea and snacks, now able to afford this luxury compared to the days when I trembled under debt.
“Mmm. What a delightful aroma.”
Asteria elegantly closed her eyes, savoring the fragrance of the tea leaves. Moments like this made her status as a princess sink in anew.
“It’s comforting and soft. A scent that suits the late evening. You certainly have good taste.”
“I’m honored. Your Highness also looks lovely at night, as radiant as the moonlight.”
“Oh my. Flirting?”
Asteria’s playful fox-like smile made me swallow my breath.
‘… I guess I can’t compliment her without consequences.’
This was actually a probing question for the princess.
The third imperial princess of the empire, Asteria Estrid.
She has the ability to change the color of her hair at will.
Radiant blonde.
And pure white hair.
It’s not merely magical camouflage but a power etched into her bloodline.
If her golden hair is proof of the blood of Estrid, the founder who built the Britannian Empire…
Then her white hair belongs to the witch whom Estrid contracted with.
Typically, the two colors mix, which is why the imperial family’s hair often appears faded blonde.
‘Which is why purer blonde is more highly valued.’
The more golden the hair, the stronger the connection to tradition.
But Asteria was different.
She inherited both radiant blonde and pure white hair and could switch between the two freely.
That was a unique trait she had kept hidden until now.
Only her close circle, including me, knew about it.
In public, her hair was always radiant blonde.
— Clink
As the sound of the teacup touching the saucer echoed, Asteria spoke.
“In your opinion, which color suits me better?”
I was caught off guard by her question.
This serious atmosphere.
Her question wasn’t merely about aesthetics.
The deeper meaning behind her question was clear.
Should she pursue her claim to the throne with her golden hair, standing tall as a legitimate heir of Estrid’s blood, even if it means accepting defeat?
Or should she embrace her white hair, the bloodline of the witch, and rise as a tyrant who wouldn’t hesitate to start a rebellion?
This was the choice she was asking me to weigh in on.
[Princess of Rebellion]
Someone with such a nickname.
“…”
I silently gazed at her.
Her white hair shimmered in the moonlight, casting away the surrounding darkness.
“I’ll go with whichever color you prefer, Ian.”
Though she said that, I knew my choice would hardly sway her final decision. Asteria was, after all, a proud being born from noble blood.
This was, without a doubt, a test.
A test to see if I was worthy of standing by her side.
It was simultaneously a proposition.
My deliberation didn’t take long.
“I prefer the white hair.”
The bloodline of the imperial family is absolute and noble.
Even if it becomes the seed of rebellion, it is something one must keep close.
Just as she needed me, I also needed her.
Asteria smiled softly.
“Really? Then I’ll keep it like this.”
“… Are you sure?”
Her white hair was originally a color she used for disguise.
“I’ve gathered the northern forces that once belonged to the Second Prince. There’s no need for me to lower myself anymore.”
Asteria’s eyes gleamed with the passion of someone who had just resolved a long-standing grievance.
“The birthday banquet for the Second Prince is in three days. You will accompany me to the imperial palace.”
Asteria, making decisions without even asking about my schedule—truly befitting of a princess.
Of course, anticipating this, I had already cleared my schedule.
“I also need to give you the Numbers I promised… Oh, and.”
“?”
“The Emperor wants to see you. He seems to want to commend you for your contribution regarding the Richard affair. So, be prepared to leave a good impression.”
“… Yes?”
“It means you will have an audience with the Emperor.”
◆
Surprisingly, there was one more companion on the road to the capital.
“I heard from Her Highness.”
In the Lichten branch office of the Laurent Trading Company, Silvia smiled brightly as she spoke.
“Don’t worry too much. I’ll take good care of you. After all, I, Silvia Laurent, am the social flower of the Count Laurent family.”
Hohoho.
She covered her mouth and let out an elegant laugh, like a proper noblewoman. Her demeanor was so convincing that it inspired trust.
“… Still, an audience with the Emperor…”
This unexpected audience with the emperor seemed rather daunting.
Well, upon reflection, it wasn’t so unexpected. After all, I was the one who dealt with Richard.
In any case, I wasn’t particularly thrilled about meeting the emperor.
There’s too much to lose compared to what I could gain.
The emperor of the empire wields absolute power.
A Lichten student with no powerful backer is as insignificant as an insect before him.
If I displease him, off with my head.
Say something wrong, off with my head.
Cough inappropriately, off with my head.
Anything could happen.
It’s easy to imagine all sorts of bad outcomes from this encounter.
Would the reward be worth the risk?
Probably not.
In this world, having an audience with the Emperor is a reward in itself.
‘I wish I could just become emperor and take it easy.’
In fact, even receiving a significant reward could be problematic.
Any reward would come with political implications, potentially creating unnecessary rivals.
When I explained my concerns, Silvia nodded in agreement.
“You’re absolutely right.”
“… So what should I do? Should I just pretend to be sick? Doesn’t your trading company handle medicine for colds or something?”
Silvia’s eyes narrowed.
“… That was a bit pathetic.”
A rare but brutal reality check.
It stung.
But I was being sincere.
“Her Highness will be busy, so I’ll coach you. Don’t worry.”
Well, that’s true.
Silvia grew up in a well-respected count family (and even one that was instrumental in the founding of the empire). She knows more about the culture and etiquette of the ruling class than anyone.
If I receive etiquette training from her, I may not become the social flower, but at least I won’t get my head chopped off for lacking manners.
“We don’t have much time, so let’s start now. The timing is perfect. First, let’s learn how to greet people properly like a gentleman.”
And a short while later.
I regretted my decision.
“Bend lower! Is that the best you can do, Ian? Be smoother!”
“Ah! My arm! My arm is twisting, Silvia!”
“More! More! This won’t do. Put your fingers out.”
Silvia turned out to be a far stricter teacher than I had imagined.
With precise strength, her wooden stick kept aiming for my fingernails. Why she even had something like that, I had no idea.
One thing was for sure…
— Thwack!
It didn’t look like much, but it really hurt.
“… It hurts, Silvia.”
“If you can’t even bow properly, you deserve the pain. Again.”
… After about an hour of this harsh “indirect experience”.
I finally mastered the nobleman’s greeting.
“Très bien. Very good. You did well.”
Only after all ten of my fingernails were red and throbbing did I finally manage to perform a passable bow.
“Are your hands okay?”
“No, they really hurt.”
Silvia had hit me just hard enough not to break my nails. Her face remained completely calm the entire time, though.
“Oh, stop whining. I was hit much harder than that when I was learning.”
“Do you have steel fingernails or something, Silvia?”
Smack.
She lightly tapped my arm before crouching in front of a drawer.
After rummaging around, she brought out a small medicine container.
“Give me your hand.”
Thud.
As I placed my hand in hers, I suddenly felt like a puppy.
Before I could react, she was already applying the medicine, gently rubbing it onto each of my sore fingers.
Squelch, squelch.
The sticky ointment was absorbed as Silvia carefully massaged my fingers.
— Fwoooo
She even blew softly on them…
Ah, so this is the proverbial “giving the disease and the cure”.
After tenderly applying the ointment to each finger, she smiled.
“All done. It doesn’t hurt anymore, right? This is a pretty effective balm.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
I nodded, grabbing my coat as I prepared to leave.
Why?
Because she had started reaching for the wooden stick again.
“Looks like I’ve learned all the etiquette I need for the imperial palace. Thank you, Silvia. I’ll be going now. See you next time.”
— Click-clack
Silvia skillfully blocked the door.
“What are you talking about? There’s still a mountain of things to learn.”
… Please, spare me.
