Arc-6 Ch-01

[T/N- The title means "I think, therefore I am" a quote by Latin philosopher René Descartes]

Deactivation of Dormant State

 Correction of Internal Clock Error

Elapsed time confirmed: 52,634,871 seconds since the last activation.

Initiating download of recorded data...

...

...Complete.

No external intruders detected.

Confirmed: operational failure of three security robots due to aging.

Facility deterioration from encroaching vegetation deemed within expected parameters.

Zero communications from allied or hostile units.

Zero intrusions into the facility.

0 0 000 0 00 00 000

00 00 000 00 000 0

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

System error detected. Initiating reboot...

...System restart confirmed.

Proposal: Verify normalcy of thought processes through duplication of AI system...

...

...Proposal rejected due to resource management concerns. Current probability of old humanity’s survival and likelihood of master registration for this vessel:

...

...System error detected.

Proposal: Transition to dormant state after downloading necessary information.

Approved.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

When early spring arrives, the scent of soil and plants begins to drift from the farmlands of the Bartfort territory. The wheat seeds sown the previous winter survive the cold and begin forming spikelets, while preparations for spring planting commence. The Bartfort territory has been under full-scale development for less than five years.

Geological surveys, development oversight, and crop selection一The lord of this land excels at farming, and no matter how much his subordinates or family scold him, he stubbornly refuses to stop working the fields himself.

Had he been born into a family of wealthy farmers or botanical scholars, he might have lived peacefully and left his name in history. Looking out the window, small birds, entering their breeding season with the coming of spring, sing with bright, high-pitched chirps.

As night falls and the sun rises, the chill of winter fades, and life brims with vitality once again. Plants swell their buds to burst into vibrant colors, while animals shed their winter coats, changing their hues as if dressing for the season.

It feels as though the entire world grows restless with the arrival of spring, and humans, too, seem somewhat unsettled. No matter how much wisdom or technological advancement we accumulate, humans are, in the end, just another kind of beast.

And like the animals in early spring, adorning oneself holds deep meaning among human nobles. Lacking fur or feathers, humans craft fabric and metal to embellish themselves, asserting their presence to those around them.

In ancient times, physical strength marked biological appeal, but with the rise of civilization, trade, and currency, wealth surpassed brute strength as the measure of human worth. Now, the contents of one’s purse define a person’s value more than the ability to lift heavy burdens. However, no matter how much wealth one possesses, if others fail to acknowledge it, one risks scorn and derision.

A noble who is looked down upon has their influence in high society questioned, eventually facing decline. Thus, nobles pour vast sums into procuring rare materials and hiring skilled artisans. At times, defending one’s house through fashion proves more effective and impactful than maintaining a military force.

Even while inwardly recognizing the foolishness of such behavior, nobles cannot cease adorning themselves. If a new fashion they devise spreads and becomes the global standard, it secures them an unshakable position in high society—and selling it opens a new revenue stream. Fashion is both a sword for earning wealth and a shield for protecting one’s house. Even if one’s health falters, neglecting it is unforgivable.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Several long dresses are laid out across the bed. All of them are modestly decorated and subdued in color. On the table before me, as I sit in a chair, rests a jewelry box crafted over several months by artisans employed by the ducal house, its surface gleaming in the sunlight.

My present dilemma lies in choosing which dress to wear and which accessories to pair with it. A luxurious and carefree concern, perhaps—but one I cannot neglect. I am a duke’s daughter, yet also a viscount’s wife. Any misstep on my part would disgrace both the Redgrave and Bartfort houses.

Leaning back in my chair, I stretch lightly. Lately, stiffness in my shoulders and pain in my back have been troubling me.

The reason is obvious.

Lowering my gaze, I see my chest, which has grown noticeably larger, and my abdomen, pressing outward even through my clothing. As I near full cycle, my body prepares for childbirth, regardless of my will. Three months have passed since the kidnapping incident, and now, as childbirth approaches and the fetus grows, my abdomen has swelled greatly.

I cannot roll over in bed, my sleep is shallow, and I can no longer see my feet—forcing me to take utmost care when climbing stairs or bathing. Even changing clothes has become laborious. Living with such a swollen belly makes every task difficult and weighs me with gloom.

To shake off the creeping melancholy, I compare the long dresses. All were tailored before my last pregnancy, designed with extra room at the chest and waist to avoid constriction. It is customary for noblewomen to limit outings once pregnancy is confirmed, and walking outside in the final month is considered sheer madness.

But the matter at hand is urgent. Mishandled, it could split the Kingdom of Holfort in two, igniting a civil war with blood washing away blood. Ideally, I would act after giving birth to my third child, but recovery will take at least three months.

By then, it may already be too late.

All I can do is facilitate negotiations between the royal family and the ducal house as much as possible before giving birth, then hope the situation improves. It is far better than doing nothing.

“They say whatever suits them best.”

The Holfort royal family and the Redgrave ducal house alike make demands that serve only their own interests. The royal family seeks the ducal house’s cooperation to restore peace to the kingdom, yet for the ducal house, the royal family is hardly indispensable. My engagement to His Highness Julius, heir to the throne, was meant to improve relations between the two houses.

But I am now a woman of the Bartfort house. The political battles in the capital should be left to those who wish to fight them. The only reason I involve myself in this shadowed conflict is to protect my husband and children. If Leon were skilled in politics and driven by ambition, I would support him wholeheartedly.

If my children were of age, I would engage actively for the prosperity of our house. But because my husband lacks ambition and my children are still young, I run about trying to reconcile the two houses. The royal family should be a little more grateful for that. Suddenly, I feel a sensation within my abdomen and adjust my posture to brace for it.

A few seconds later, a gentle vibration stirs my belly. Lately, fetal movements come every few hours. Unavoidable in the final month, but nonetheless exhausting. I understand why female animals, preparing for birth, seclude themselves in their nests to wait for the time to come.

That said, a life of lazily eating and sleeping harms both mother and child. A difficult delivery could endanger us both. So lately, I have taken to light walks around the neighborhood, indoor stretches, and burying myself in paperwork. Once the fetal stirring subsides, I return to my tasks.

In about a month, a new member will join the Bartfort family. I want to finish my work quickly and give birth here. The ducal residence would certainly prepare for childbirth flawlessly, but the Bartfort territory is where I feel most at ease. At the very least, I want this profound event in a woman’s life—childbirth—to take place in a safe, reassuring environment.

Carrying and birthing a child is an ordeal I know well. Yet prior experience does not make the next birth any easier. Recalling the pain from before, I cannot help but feel anxious about the coming delivery of my third child. My first birth was especially difficult, as it was twins.

After enduring labor pains for half a day, the agony of delivery drove me delirious. Just when I thought it was over, learning there was another child still within me filled me with despair. Some parts of my memory are blurred by the pain, but I remember Leon stayed by my side throughout. Yet when I ask him about it now, he remains silent.

The twins, born of such suffering, now play with the dresses laid on the bed and press their hands against my belly as they please.

“It moved!”

“It did.”

“Will it move again?”

“It should, in a little while.”

These days, the twins’ favorite toy is the younger sibling moving in my womb. As a pregnant mother, having them cling to me constantly leaves me with mixed feelings.

Taking care of toddlers is exhausting enough, but doing so with a swollen belly is truly laborious. They must vaguely sense that once their younger sibling is born, Leon and I will be preoccupied with caring for the newborn for some time. They hate being apart from us and even try to follow along when we work.

If I choose my words carefully to stop them, they burst into tears, and calming them is no small feat. Compared to parenting, predicting the weather to choose crops or spending the entire day buried in paperwork is less tiring.

In a month, another child will join us, and if our married life continues without pause, the burden—both physical and mental—will only increase with a fourth or even a fifth child. Oh no, I’ve let myself imagine something dreadful. Rather than fearing an uncertain future, I should prioritize deciding what clothes to take to the capital.

Maternity long dresses, designed for abdominal warmth and safety, inevitably end up looking similar. When I consider combinations with accessories like necklaces or earrings, there aren’t many options to agonize over. However, a noblewoman leaving her estate with a swollen belly is an extraordinary circumstance. To avoid bringing shame upon our house, I must take every precaution.

“Lionel, which one do you think is best?”

“Hmm?”

As expected, he doesn’t have an eye for women’s fashion. It would be troublesome if he took after his father and started saying things like, “You look good in anything.”

“What about you, Ariel?”

“This one!”

“Red, huh? Shall we go with that?”

“It’s cool!”

Her sense of value is based on what’s cool? I feel a slight unease about my spirited daughter’s future. The dress she points to is a red long dress. Perhaps because I often wear clothing with red designs, my daughter mimics me and tends to prefer red.

It’s a safe choice, but one could say it lacks originality. Most of the dresses and accessories I own were brought from the ducal house before I married Leon, and even the maternity dress before me was a gift from my father.

For daily life in the estate, clothing tailored in the Bartfort territory is sufficient, but for special occasions, the ducal house went out of its way to commission extravagant custom pieces. Who would have thought they’d prove useful in this way?

I’ve chosen the dress to wear in public. Now, should I also pack extra casual clothes and undergarments? If necessary, the other side will provide them, but it’s better to be prepared. I don’t know how many days I’ll be staying, but the higher a noble’s rank, the greater the number of possessions they tend to have.

Since marrying Leon and becoming accustomed to the tranquility of this land, I’ve grown careless about my attire. Unless mocked by others, people here don’t pay much attention to clothing.

“I’m back~!”

The door opens, and a carefree voice echoes through the room. The man who should be the most particular about clothing in this land enters in plain work clothes. No matter how you look at him, he seems nothing more than a farmer. To think that this man is about to be elevated to the rank of earl—has the kingdom’s upper echelon misjudged due to lack of talent?

Lately, Lionel and Ariel refuse to leave my side. As my belly grows and the final month approaches, they spend more time with me than with Leon.

“…Why’s no one welcoming me? Papa’s sad.”

“First, go wash off your sweat and change. No one wants to come near you when you’re dirty.”

“Then how about you join me in the bath, Angie?”

“Absolutely not. Don’t get frisky in broad daylight.”

“What about you two?”

“No!”

“Nope!”

Rejected by both wife and children, Leon slinks off to the bathroom. It’s about time for the afternoon snack. I gather my strength and slowly rise to my feet. In the final month, even sitting or turning over is a struggle. What can someone in my condition possibly accomplish?

The sight of my children eagerly following my slow steps offers a fleeting moment of comfort amid the gloom.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“Are they asleep?”

“Both are probably sleeping. No need to go out of your way to carry them back to their room.”

“It’s distracting to have serious talks with them around.”

Leon carries the twins to the children’s room. Lately, Lionel and Ariel, cherishing the dwindling time as a family of four in this viscount household, cling to me even during baths and bedtime. Household affairs are managed by my mother-in-law, and with the additional help of my father-in-law and brother-in-law in running the territory, my workload—aside from tasks that require Leon as the lord—isn’t too heavy.

My brother-in-law and Dorothea’s engagement has been officially confirmed, and their wedding is planned for a few months after I give birth. The Bartfort territory could not be more buoyant right now. The increase in miscellaneous tasks has been proportional, but the fact that it remains manageable is thanks to everyone’s efforts in the Bartfort territory.

Especially Jenna and Finley, who, since the kidnapping incident, have become proactive in both territory management and ladylike education. I’m confident good marriage proposals will eventually come their way.

“I’m back.”

As soon as Leon returns to the bedroom, he climbs onto the bed and snuggles close. Perhaps because he hurried, his breathing is heavy. I squirm to escape the overwhelming presence—like being cornered by a large dog—but Leon persistently chases me.

Giving in, I let him do as he pleases, and he embraces me. Time passes in silence, just the two of us. Even as I feel completely fulfilled, there remains a lingering sense of something missing. Tomorrow, I must leave for the capital. Leon and I fill each other’s voids.

Even a brief separation feels like a farewell for life, tormenting me with loneliness. It is almost fair to call it dependency—I am utterly smitten with him, and he loves me wholeheartedly. That is exactly why I must fulfill my duty to protect this happiness.

“Do you really have to go?”

“I’ve explained it many times. I thought you finally understood.”

“My head gets it, but my body says no.”

Leon, with a humble demeanor, massages my shoulders and feet. Since becoming pregnant, my breasts have been tender, my shoulders stiff, and my feet swollen. Having him massage me before bed has become a beloved ritual for us as a couple.

“You’re really tense, milady.”

“With the due date so close, everything feels like a hassle.”

“Then why not stay instead of going to the capital?”

“That’s a separate matter.”

If only it were a month earlier, the physical strain would not have been so severe. The reason I must push myself in this condition is the series of changes in the capital. For about three months since parting with His Highness and the others, we’ve been managing the territory while persuading nobles who might support our plan.

Our main targets were newly risen nobles like Leon, nobles we befriended during the war, and lords of territories neighboring Bartfort. Newly risen nobles have weak ties to the old aristocracy and lack experience in territory management. However, they harbor less disdain for commoners and are often eager to develop their lands.

Many of the nobles and knights whose lives Leon saved during the war are from prominent families, and we sought their cooperation through those connections. As for neighboring lords, trade with the Bartfort territory made persuasion easier, though explaining my proposal still required considerable effort.

Appointing young, new talent to aid the Kingdom of Holfort’s recovery is easier said than done—a classic case. Prioritizing newly risen nobles over those attempting to replenish assets depleted by two wars with the Fanoss Duchy risks sparking resentment against the royal family, potentially leading to civil war. With that in mind, proposing a new state institution is ambitious, to say the least.

The Roseblade house, an old and prestigious family, offering their cooperation was a decisive breakthrough. Leon felt guilty about using my brother-in-law to leverage the Roseblade house, but it was the only way to secure rapid persuasion. Our efforts bore fruit, and while we gathered signatures for a petition from nobles supporting the reform, Lady Mylene sought my aid.

“I’m worried about both you and the baby. What if something happens?”

“Lady Mylene has apparently arranged for a royal physician who specializes in noble patients. She’s also discreetly dispatching a unit of the royal guard to escort me. At this point, refusing would create problems for the reconciliation between the royal family and the ducal house.”

“Not this again.”

“The factional struggles in the capital aren’t the same as they were before the war. Right now, Lady Mylene and the Prime Minister are the key figures of the royalist faction, but the two don’t seem to get along.”

“The Prime Minister is the former king’s brother, isn’t he?”

“The late king’s brother, yes. Before we were born, when the previous king died, there was a dispute over whether Crown Prince Roland or the late king’s brother should inherit the throne.”

“But he stepped aside, and the matter was settled. So why bring it up again now?”

“Lady Mylene is queen, but she was born in the Republic of Leopard. Her power base in Holfort is fragile. To strengthen it, she intended to arrange my engagement to His Highness Julius and have my father’s support, but the annulment of that engagement ruined her plan.”

“So the late king’s brother became Prime Minister instead. But if that solved things, then why the current conflict?”

“I can’t say. Too many things don’t add up to be explained as just ‘changing circumstances.’”

At present, the Kingdom of Holfort has two dukes. One is my father, Duke Vince Rapha Redgrave. As head of the Redgrave family, a cadet branch of the royal line, he is a central figure among the territorial nobles.

The other is Duke Lucas Rapha Holfort, the late king’s brother. He had once been seen as a leader among the court nobles, but until recently his existence had been all but forgotten. After withdrawing from the succession dispute, he spent roughly twenty years in seclusion, holding no official post.

That changed after the war, when Marquis Frampton fell and many nobles were purged. King Roland lacked the influence to unify the court, and although Lady Mylene is competent, she didn’t have enough allies. His Highness Julius took the lead among the royal children, but the princes and princesses were—frankly speaking—unreliable.

Thus, Duke Lucas was brought back into politics as Prime Minister. The relative stability in the palace in recent years has largely been thanks to his leadership. Yet now, for reasons unclear, his relationship with Lady Mylene has soured. She has repeatedly questioned him, but he avoids giving her straight answers.

He had shown understanding toward my reform proposals so far, and this time personally requested to hear me out in person. There’s no reason to refuse. If I can persuade him, winning over the court nobles will become far easier, and our burden will lighten considerably.

A few days after I gave my agreement, Lady Mylene arranged my journey to the capital. At this stage, there’s no turning back. I had sighed over this troublesome business cropping up during my final month of pregnancy about half a month ago.

“I hate the queen.”

“Keep that to yourself. You never know who might be listening.”

“She has a son of my age but still looks unnaturally youthful. And she doesn’t even try to hide that she’s using me. It feels so one-sided—like she’s just exploiting you to keep the royal family alive.”

“I’m well aware. Still, you agreed to let me go to the capital, didn’t you?”

“If I’d known it would be this soon, I never would have. This is the time you should be caring for yourself the most.”

It was the same when I gave birth to the twins: as delivery approaches, Leon grows more irritable than I do. It’s endearing, like a male beast guarding his mate and young. But he shows no mercy toward anyone who comes too close. The royal family seems to have taken an interest in Leon, but court life doesn’t suit him. A single provocation could easily end in bloodshed.

“The royalist faction’s maneuvering is troubling, but the ducal faction is just as strange. Father has been taking an unrelentingly hardline stance lately, even suppressing the opinions of neutral nobles and vassals he used to work with.”

“Do you think he’s really preparing to challenge the royal family?”

“I can’t read Father’s intentions at all. Even Brother, who is usually well-informed about his dealings, is baffled.”

Lately, Father’s actions have been difficult to comprehend—even for his own family. Brother reported that he has been secretly making large donations to the temple, supposedly to arrange a clandestine marriage with Olivia. He has also pressed me about betrothing my children early. Clearly, something is happening behind the scenes.

If this is preparation for the Redgrave house to seize the throne, why involve Olivia? True, bringing in someone who has saved the kingdom twice and earned respect abroad is a sound strategy for gathering both noble and popular support. But the timing is reckless and will invite backlash. Barely a year has passed since the war’s end—why is Father in such a rush?

“Probably because the merit awards ceremony is scheduled for about two months from now. The postwar cleanup kept delaying it. Any further delay and the nobles still awaiting rewards may turn against the royal family. He wants to use that moment of unrest to secure legitimacy and rally support.”

“Does that mean the Bartfort family will have to cooperate as well?”

“Father is rational, but he shows no mercy toward the useless or the disloyal. Even as his daughter, he wouldn’t forgive betrayal.”

When my engagement to His Highness Julius was annulled, Father said nothing. But I could feel his disappointment at my failure. Later, he restored the ducal house’s authority by crushing Marquis Frampton and purging many nobles. But had our house remained in decline, my relationship with Father would have stayed cold to this day.

Even so, I am clearly betraying him now. I have no regrets—but I fear my proposal being crushed before I can win him over. My plan remains viable even if the ducal house seizes the throne. All I can hope is to wield it as leverage for the Bartfort family’s survival.

“Wait for me in the capital. I’ll join you as soon as I finish my business here.”

“If you take too long, I’ll go face Father alone.”

“I’ll work hard to wrap things up quickly.”

Leon’s breath tickles my neck, making me squirm. For the past three months, we’ve been secretly gathering signatures of nobles who support my proposal, while keeping everything hidden from the ducal house. Thanks to His Highness, Olivia, and others, our list of supporters has been growing. Court nobles from the royalist camp, territorial lords from the ducal camp, neutral families, even nobles close to the temple—all have pledged support.

It’s about twenty percent of the kingdom’s nobility. Yet with major houses like the Roseblades backing us, even Father cannot ignore it. If I can win the Prime Minister’s support, Father may abandon thoughts of seizing the throne and focus instead on rebuilding the kingdom.

“I’ll finish gathering the last signatures and take care of some other business.”

“What business?”

“A secret.”

“Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me.”

“I am not!”

Leon’s vehement denial, raised voice and all, makes me laugh despite myself. Recently, whenever he has free time, he no longer works the fields at the secondary residence. Instead, he disappears in his single-person airship—sometimes taking guns or provisions, leaving at dawn and returning late at night.

From the clues he brings back, I’ve guessed he’s not visiting a woman but exploring an uncharted floating island or dungeon. Still, it’s frustrating. To think he leaves his heavily pregnant wife behind while going on such adventures alone. With my swollen belly making daily life difficult, it’s infuriating to see him sneaking off for excitement without telling me where. I think I’ve earned the right to tease him a little.

“Enjoy yourself while I’m gone. Once the baby is born, you won’t be able to go out much.”

“The kids are so cute, I won’t need anything else. You feel the same, right, Ange?”

“Our time together as a couple is only going to shrink further. And it’s all because someone keeps getting me pregnant.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?”

“Who else would it be?”

As Leon rubs my belly, the baby kicks, as if responding to him. Though the movements are fewer than with the twins, this child seems healthy and strong as well. I treasure Leon for how he loves both me and our unborn child. Even without words, my heart is full, and time passes peacefully.

“The escort will arrive around noon tomorrow. Let’s rest.”

“All right.”

The room darkens, and silence settles in. As I wonder what awaits in the capital, my nerves keep me awake long into the night.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“You really don’t know when to hold back, do you?”

“Sorry about that.”

I can’t afford to leave already exhausted. Unable to sleep, Leon came to me, leaving me drained before my departure. I’m somewhat tired, but Leon looks annoyingly healthy, which only irritates me further. As we banter like any couple, a small royal airship lands quietly at the Bartfort military airfield.

Though compact, it is equipped with the latest technology, fast enough to escape sky pirates with ease. A knight steps out from the hatch and bows politely. His lack of disdain toward me, a mere viscount’s wife, is surely due to Lady Mylene’s strict instructions.

I glance at the knights loading my luggage and then step toward the hatch. Leon still looks apologetic, and seeing him that way softens me. Love makes one weak. Like soothing a child, I press a brief kiss to his lips. Lingering would only make parting harder. The surrounding knights wisely pretend not to notice.

“I’ll be there soon! Take care of yourself!”

“Don’t you dare do anything reckless, Leon!”

We shout our farewells over the sound of the hatch closing. The reality of being alone among strangers sets in, and unease washes over me. I sit in the guest cabin and gaze out the window. The clouds race by at dizzying speed beneath the airship, and I feel myself being pulled inexorably toward the capital.

Closing my eyes, I think of the ducal house and the royal family, but before I can gather my thoughts, the fatigue from last night overtakes me. Sleep claims me as the journey begins.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳

Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

Part 6 Prologue

With the original story nearing its final volume, this tale too approaches its climax.

Part 6 focuses on the choices Leon and Angelica must make as they face the dark underbelly of the Kingdom of Holfort.

Characters from the original Holfort Kingdom who have not yet appeared are planned to take the stage.

I also intend to weave in backstory revealed in the Marie route, while keeping it enjoyable for those who haven’t read it.

I’ve posted an adult-oriented interlude for this arc as well, so please check it out if you’re interested: Syosetu

The next chapter will be released on March 29, to coincide with the release of the original work’s final volume.

Both the main story and the adult-oriented chapter will be posted simultaneously.

As always, your opinions and feedback are deeply appreciated—they are my greatest motivation.