Arc-3 Ch-07

"Such fine young men—you've raised them well. The future of House Bartfort appears secure."

"No, no, they still have a long way to go. I’m rather embarrassed, to be honest."

Father and Earl Roseblade had been conversing for some time now. Each time the Earl lavished excessive praise upon me, Father responded with modest denial. Mother, on the other hand, seemed blissfully unaware of the tense undertone. She smiled serenely, her gaze wandering toward the opposite seating.

What truly puzzled me, however, was Dorothea-san. She kept stealing glances at me, only to quickly avert her eyes the moment our gazes met. The Countess beside her rubbed her back with a strained urgency—was Dorothea-san feeling unwell.

“It’s about time we took our leave. We’ll entrust the rest to Nicks-kun and Dorothea.”

“Understood.”

With that, the four of them rose, leaving just the two of us behind. An oppressive weight settled over me, like being locked in a cage with a wild beast. When I looked up, Father was already staring at me, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.

Don’t you dare mess this up.

His eyes said it all.

There’s no way out of this.

She’s the daughter of an earl.

A modest, rural noble house like ours doesn’t stand a chance—even if we groveled on the floor. If the Earl were serious, he could force me to marry Dorothea-san. And if I refused? Who knows what sort of retaliation we might face. Even if we agreed, the Roseblade family would have the upper hand in everything.

If she falsely accused me—or my family—of any misdeed, we’d be painted as villains, without recourse. This entire arrangement was a trap from the start. No matter how I squirm, there’s no room to decline. Meanwhile, the Earl leaned toward Dorothea-san, whispering something into her ear behind a raised hand. I couldn’t make out the words, but it was surely nothing I wanted to hear.

Their quiet exchange ended, and the Earl looked at me. His expression was strangely somber, almost... pitying.

Poor soul. My daughter will be your undoing.

A silent death sentence. The four adults exited the room, their silhouettes vanishing behind the door.

Father... Mother... don’t leave me here.

The loneliness struck me like the chill of childhood nights, walking alone to the bathroom in the dark. A sickening knot formed under my stomach—neither nausea nor the need to relieve myself, just a deep, gnawing dread.

Damn it. How did it come to this? I had to find a way to refuse her, gently but firmly. The fate of everyone under House Bartfort’s banner rested on my shoulders. I drew in a steady breath and turned to face Dorothea-san.

She was undeniably beautiful.

Compared to our last encounter, she had dressed more modestly today—elegant, refined, and tasteful. At the ball, she had worn a dazzling gown, eye-catching and extravagant—like a flower blooming under moonlight. Today, her one-piece dress was subdued in color, yet unmistakably luxurious. Even I, with little knowledge of women’s fashion, could tell from the fabric’s texture and the intricate embroidery that it was worth a small fortune.

Like Angelica-san, noble ladies possessed a beauty that shone through regardless of attire—it almost seemed unfair. But Dorothea-san was acting... different. At the ball, she had surrounded herself with a wall of aloofness, her gaze distant, as though the world around her held no value—myself included.

Today, she was meek, like a borrowed kitten. She kept her eyes down, occasionally glancing at me only to quickly look away again. Her hands fidgeted constantly, and she trembled as if on the verge of speaking, but said nothing.

Did the Earl scold her for her conduct at the ball?

Angelica-san did suggest this meeting might serve as a form of apology. If that were the case, then perhaps... I still had a chance. If we both apologized, maybe we could quietly dissolve this farce and part ways peacefully. A heartfelt rejection later might be enough for the Roseblade family to withdraw gracefully. It was my only hope for survival.

“Um... Dorothea-san?”

“Hya—hai!!”

She bit her tongue. Clearly flustered.

Her face flushed bright red, and her gaze darted anxiously around the room. Was she truly feeling ill? Using someone’s moment of weakness for my own convenience felt wrong.

“Are you alright? If you’re unwell, I can call for assistance—”

“I’m fine!! Really—I’m perfectly fine, so please don’t worry!!”

“I... see.”

She rejected the offer with alarming intensity. That bad, huh? Well, I suppose it was only natural. Any noble lady would be furious after being addressed the way I had spoken at the ball.

“Dorothea-san, I want to sincerely apologize for my rudeness at the ball. My remarks were completely inappropriate, and I regret them deeply.”

“You don’t need to be so formal, Nicks-sama.”

“I also plan to apologize directly to Earl Roseblade. I’m grateful for the opportunity to meet you again today.”

“Please, you may raise your head.”

“You likely had no desire to attend a marriage meeting with someone like me. I crossed the line with my words. I’ve decided to abstain from alcohol going forward.”

“There’s really no need to go that far.”

“For the sake of both our families, I think it’s best we part amicably. If you could find it within yourself to refuse the engagement, it would spare both your honor and the Roseblade family’s reputation. So please... I would be grateful if you rejected this—”

“No!!”

Just as I attempted to bow out gracefully, she cut me off with a forceful shout. So the apology hadn’t been enough? Do they want compensation—money? Land? We’re barely staying afloat after the war with the Principality. We can’t afford excessive reparations. I needed to negotiate. Somehow.

“Dorothea-san, House Bartfort is a small, rural family that’s only just managed to survive over the generations. We were lucky to obtain a barony through modest financial success, and thanks to my brother’s achievements, we were granted a floating island. But it’s undeveloped. In truth, our previous territory may have been more livable.”

“…So this engagement is an inconvenience for you?”

I almost said yes—but held it back just in time.

The floating island might be large, but development is slow. We scrape by thanks to the hot springs, and even then, Leon and I have to work side-by-side with commoners to negotiate with merchants and manage resources.

That kind of life would be unbearable for someone accustomed to luxury. Noblewomen in fine gowns don’t belong in the mud. Leon and Angelica-san are exceptions. Rarities. If I’m not careful, I could end up trapped in a marriage like Father’s with Zola. Honestly, I’d rather wed a practical, understanding commoner

“Is there... someone else you’re interested in?”

“Hah, I’ve yet to meet a woman mad enough to be interested in me.”

The academy was the perfect place to find a partner, and I did try. I casually approached several women, but the more sensible ones—whether commoners or lower noble ladies—always picked someone else.

And that was just among the regular students. An earl’s daughter from the advanced course? Entirely out of reach. Rather than letting this spiral into future conflict, the best course of action was to lay everything bare and have her reject me.

“…So, Nicks-sama, you currently have no romantic attachments?”

“No, none.”

I gave a bitter smile, accepting the sad truth. Yes, I’m looking for a wife. But every time someone proposes to me, it’s always because they couldn’t have Leon. I’m the consolation prize. I don’t expect a grand romance—but I’d at least like to marry someone who sees me as a person.

“Oh, what a stroke of fortune.”

Dorothea-san suddenly said something strange. Fortune? No, this is misfortune. There’s no way someone like her—celebrated and admired—could understand the frustrations of a man constantly overlooked.

Happy that I’m unpopular? She must still be holding a grudge over what I said at the ball.

"I met a rather fascinating gentleman the other day."

"H-Huh. I see… That’s nice."

Dorothea-san rests her cheek in her hand, squirming slightly in a way that’s undeniably alluring. Looking at her like this, I have to admit—she’s an exceptionally beautiful woman, at least outwardly. I want to believe that the chills and tremors running down my spine are just my imagination.

"You were so curt with me. It was the first time anyone had ever treated me like that."

"I-Is that so…?"

"Most men who approach me are either after the wealth and prestige of the earl’s family or infatuated with my appearance. Being fawned over by such shallow fools is nothing but a nuisance."

"…"

"But you—despite the absence of prying eyes—stood your ground and criticized me without hesitation. The image of your unwavering posture remains burned into my memory."

Dorothea-san gazes at me with a dreamy, faraway look. It’s terrifying. No doubt about it—she’s holding a grudge. Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have come here. I’m completely at her mercy now.

"Nicks-sama, what do you think defines an ideal marriage?"

"An ideal marriage?"

The sudden, out-of-nowhere question catches me off guard. What’s the correct response here? No matter what I say, I have the sinking feeling she’ll twist it against me. Even if I somehow manage to answer 'correctly,' I doubt it’ll help me escape this situation. 

"To me, a marriage is about mutual support and cooperation. That’s how my parents were, at least."

"Oh? Your father and mother must have been very close."

Well, if they weren’t, they’d never have survived years of torment from that wretched noblewoman Zola while raising five kids. Still, growing up and watching them flirt constantly did some serious damage to my psyche. Leon and Angelica-san have a similar kind of marriage, and I’ll admit it—I’m jealous.

"But my vision of an ideal marriage differs from that. I realize society might consider my perspective somewhat unorthodox, but I can’t help pursuing the ideal I believe in."

"…What kind of ideal?"

I don’t want to know. I really don’t want to know. I have a terrible feeling about this. But like a fool—curious and cornered—I asked anyway.

"My ideal marriage is one where a man and woman, while caring for each other, constantly vie for dominance in the relationship. By challenging each other to grow and refine themselves, they bring prosperity not only to themselves but to their territory as well."

I… I don’t understand. Not at all.

Dominance? Refinement?

Why are such dangerous words showing up in a conversation about marriage?

"As I said earlier, most men who courted me were simpletons—either groveling fools hoping to curry favor or lazy opportunists who wanted to control me without bettering themselves or rising to meet me."

"…"

"But at the ball, your words pierced straight through me! If I could’ve recorded them, I’d listen to them over and over again. I fell deeply in love with you that night! I’m convinced—Nicks-sama is the ideal man I’ve been searching for!!"

‘Stop hiding your vulgar nature and at least try to cultivate some decent human sensibilities!’

‘Your only redeeming qualities are your looks and your family’s status!’

Wait, those words? That angry outburst? That’s what won her heart? Unbelievable. I’ve heard that upper nobles can have eccentric tastes thanks to their wealth and power, but this woman might just be a whole new category of pervert. My head is pounding. I want to escape—now.

How did it come to this?

"There’s been a misunderstanding, Dorothea-san. I only spoke that way because I didn’t know your status. Had I known you were of the earl’s house, I would never have spoken so harshly."

"There’s no need for humility. Regardless of the circumstances, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a wonderful man, Nicks-sama. I adore you. Please, consider entering into a relationship with me—with marriage in mind."

Her blushing confession is dazzling. She’s beautiful, yes. But I absolutely cannot handle her. My idea of marriage is calm and affectionate. Hers is fierce and combative. We’re complete opposites. No matter how I look at it, there’s no way we’re compatible.

None. At. All.

This engagement is doomed.

"I have a small gift for you, Nicks-sama. I’d be delighted if you accepted it."

She produces a carefully wrapped box. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. There’s no way it’s anything normal. But refusing a gift from a noblewoman of higher rank would only make me look bad. She talks about mutual competition, but I’m the only one being toyed with here. If we actually got married, would this continue until the day I died?

I can’t take that. With heavy reluctance, I begin untying the ribbon. Dorothea-san’s eager gaze makes my skin crawl. I slowly lift the lid to find… something made of black leather and metal. I have no idea what it is.

What the hell is this?

As I stare, stunned, Dorothea-san squirms and throws me a shy glance. How am I supposed to react to this?

"…Do you not like it?"

"Um… no, it’s not that, it’s just… what is this exactly? It kind of looks like… a collar?"

"Yes, precisely. I had it custom-made from the finest materials by a specialist, just for today. Your name is engraved on the nameplate. It even has a high-performance tracker so I’ll always know your whereabouts in the Holfort Kingdom."

She’s definitely holding a grudge from when I called her a dog at the ball ! Is this her way of saying, ‘Now it’s your turn to be the pet’? Or is this some bizarre fashion statement among the capital’s elite?

"Of course, I didn’t just make one for you. I have a matching collar for myself."

Dorothea-san pulls a second collar from her pocket—identical in design but smaller in size. The chain sparkles in the light, almost artistically.That’s enough, Dorothea Fou Roseblade. Please don’t flaunt your fetishes at a marriage meeting.

"I’m sure we’ll make a wonderful couple ♥"

We’re speaking the same language, but something fundamental is out of sync. No matter how I spin it, I’m clearly the prey—and Dorothea-san is the predator. As I watch her lick her lips with a dreamy smile, I let out a silent, internal scream.

※　※　※　※　※

After our greetings, we were guided to a separate guest room. A table had been set with snacks and a fine tea set, and the sofas were layered with plush, soft cushions. As I sit, the sinking comfort of the cushion beneath me makes me idly think—I’d like to get some of these for the kids.

Leon, meanwhile, starts brewing tea for everyone. I’m not sure when he learned, but he’s surprisingly skilled at it. No, he’s not quite on the level of palace staff or professional servants, but it’s more than enough for casual enjoyment. Once we all have our tea in hand, I glance around the room once more.

There, seated regally, is Her Majesty Mylene Rapha Holfort—the Queen.

His Highness Julius Rafa Holfort. Viscount Leon Fou Bartfort. And I, Viscountess Angelica Fou Bartfort.

This secret meeting is mired in complexity, each participant driven by diverging agendas. Mylene-sama possesses near-total mastery over the kingdom’s internal affairs. His Highness Julius wields unmatched prowess on the battlefield. As for me, though I underwent queenly training, it has been over five years since then. Leon, while certainly not unintelligent, remains politically inexperienced.

A single misstep could hand Mylene-sama the advantage—she is formidable precisely because she exploits such openings with ease. A single lapse could endanger not only the Bartfort family but also the Redgrave house, potentially igniting a civil war that could fracture the kingdom. Naturally, both factions seek to avoid such a disaster—but only on terms favorable to themselves.

Compromise and concession may seem similar, yet they are fundamentally distinct. I must tread carefully, choosing my words and actions with precision.

“Julius, why did you come here?”

Although she permitted his attendance, it’s evident that Mylene-sama did not expect His Highness Julius to be present. Even in the past, His Highness was known for his lack of political finesse as a royal. Though I believe he’s grown since then, he still has a long way to go before he can rival Mylene-sama.

“I tracked you using the transmitter hidden in the pendant I gave you, Mother. It’s a wartime device Father once used to monitor us. Within the kingdom’s borders, it can pinpoint coordinates with high accuracy—unless disrupted.”

“My, my... I did find it strange when you gave me a gift, but I didn’t expect it to be underpinned by such ulterior motives.”

“Forgive me. It was Father’s order, a precaution to track your movements in case of emergencies.”

“Do not repeat this. No matter the intention, it erodes trust. If you wish to know something, speak to me directly.”

“I... didn’t know how to approach you, Mother. Father said it would be useful for monitoring the war situation.”

“And that led to this? If he’s doing this for theatrics or personal amusement, he ought to focus on more pressing matters.”

“The Masked Knight is a mysterious hero who arrives at critical moments. Preparation is essential, don’t you think?”

“Is His Majesty Roland involved with this suspicious figure?”

“Do you know something, Leon?”

“I’ve encountered the Masked Knight several times on the battlefield. The first time, he appeared out of nowhere and saved us in a crisis. The second, I attempted to recruit him as a mercenary, but he refused. The third, I tried to capture him—he escaped.”

“What kind of fool is this man?”

“He hasn’t appeared since that attempted capture. He’s dangerous and suspicious—if he turns hostile, we’ll be in serious trouble. I issued orders to detain him on sight, but he vanished. Just who is he?”

Mylene-sama and His Highness Julius both wear deeply displeased expressions. Are they truly that vexed by his interference in the war? 

“Ahem. Enough about that questionable individual. Ange, the draft you prepared?”

“Right here.”

I retrieve an envelope from my bag.

Inside are documents, including a draft originally submitted by Olivia, which I have revised and refined.

Following the memorial ceremony, I incorporated my own knowledge with Olivia’s draft, making adjustments before submitting it to Mylene-sama.

It’s only a modest revision, but I hope it contributes to postwar reconstruction and becomes a step toward reconciling the Holfort royal family with the Redgrave house.

Coinciding with my brother-in-law’s marriage proposal, I received an invitation to this meeting.

High-ranking noble engagements require royal approval, a safeguard against families consolidating excessive power through marriage.

That Mylene-sama’s summons arrived with the proposal between the Bartfort and Roseblade families is a clear signal—she is fully informed of the circumstances.

What can be achieved here? What strategies are available?

That is the true purpose of this gathering.

“Using Saintess Olivia-sama’s documents as a foundation, I revised and corrected the proposal. However, my knowledge of the kingdom’s internal affairs is outdated, and my information from the frontier is of questionable accuracy. I apologize if the material seems rudimentary, Mylene-sama.”

Mentioning Olivia by name is a deliberate diversion to redirect Mylene-sama’s scrutiny. The relationship between the queen and Olivia remains strained. Olivia, a commoner-born saintess who disrupted a royal engagement with a ducal house, poses a significant challenge to the existing order of the Holfort Kingdom. In ability alone, she far surpasses even the most refined noblewomen.

She fearlessly entered battle, rescued countless lives, and defeated the enemy commander—her accomplishments are undeniable. Yet her very existence threatens the core of the nobility’s ideology.

If a commoner outshines the nobles, can they truly claim superiority? Shouldn’t nobles who fall short be judged by the same standards? There’s nothing more aggravating than an incompetent noble flaunting unearned authority. As Olivia’s fame grows, the prestige of the royal family and high-ranking nobles steadily erodes. If she were to enter politics in earnest, she would become an unstoppable force. Father understands this, which is why he’s arranging a union between Olivia and my brother-in-law.

Meanwhile, the royal family—particularly Mylene-sama—wants Olivia kept far from the political sphere. Caught between these interests, I’ve taken it upon myself to mediate. By positioning myself as the intermediary, I hope to soften Mylene-sama’s stance on Olivia. For the ducal house, it presents the appearance that while Olivia drafted the plan, I completed and submitted it. Of course, Mylene-sama likely sees through this. Still, I submit the polished proposal with the necessary documentation.

“Julius, isn’t this the same as the proposal Olivia gave you?”

“Let me see.”

His Highness reviews the documents. So Olivia has been working discreetly behind the scenes. To what extent, I can’t say—but I pray she’s only confided in trustworthy allies.

“It appears to be the same. However, this version includes details that were not present in the copy I received.”

“Is she deliberately withholding information to maintain leverage? Angie, was this your doing?”

“How could a lowly viscountess like me presume to advise the Saintess-sama?”

I deflect Mylene-sama’s suspicion with a playful remark. In negotiation, it’s vital to minimize perceived errors while highlighting positive outcomes. Leon’s gaze sharpens. He’s suffered at the hands of superiors who claimed his achievements or deflected their failures onto him. I hate the moment, for him to witness the murkier side of political games—but such realities are unavoidable.

“We’ll address fiscal matters later. Our top priority is the domestic unrest within the Holfort Kingdom. If foreign interference is involved, the situation is dire.”

“Mother, I have a recent report on that.”

His Highness interjects, producing a document from his pocket.

“Brad successfully persuaded his former fiancée—the daughter of the former Earl Offrey. Thanks to that, we’ve identified several strongholds of the group orchestrating the unrest.”

“You’ve been quite thorough. Is that why you tracked me?”

“It’s one reason. But I’m not asking for recognition.”

“That last comment was unnecessary—it sounds like you’re fishing for praise.”

Mylene-sama’s reprimand makes His Highness grimace. Come to think of it, she rarely praised him, no matter his accomplishments. I experienced similar treatment, but I endured and earned her trust. His Highness, unable to meet her expectations, gradually drifted away. Perhaps that’s when our bond began to fray.

“In addition, Greg and Chris have reported increased activity by air pirates and rogue adventurers. It’s likely someone is orchestrating this unrest from the shadows.”

“The Rachel Holy Kingdom and the Voldenova Holy Magic Empire come to mind. Both condemned our support of the Alzer Republic as interference, yet now pursue the Sacred Tree’s magic stones themselves. How shameless.”

Though the Holfort Kingdom never officially deployed troops to Alzer’s civil war, the intervention of Temple Knights led by Saintess Olivia helped resolve the conflict swiftly. Our generous support earned us substantial influence over the Alzer Republic. With magic stone production severely diminished, we now enjoy a strategic advantage over other nations. If our kingdom collapses, those nations would simply seize a larger share.

What a cunning form of sabotage.

"Let’s say we dismantle those organizations and apprehend their leaders. Suppose we uncover concrete evidence of foreign interference—what then?"

"Naturally, we would file a formal protest with the responsible nation."

"They’ll just feign ignorance. Even if they acknowledge the claim, the Holfort Kingdom is already weakened from the war with the Fanoss Principality. A single misstep could plunge us into another conflict."

"…"

It might be unreasonable to expect him to consider things that far ahead. Yet, internal policy and diplomacy are inseparable. A true ruler must possess the foresight to anticipate far-reaching consequences—only then are they fit to lead a nation.

"Lord Bartfort."

"Y-Yes!"

Lady Mylene calls out to Leon, who’s been quietly sipping tea beside me. It’s not that he’s oblivious to the conversation—he’s simply refraining from speaking out of turn, careful not to disrupt the mood. Men of the Bartfort family are often underestimated for exactly this reason: they’re too adept at reading the room and end up holding themselves back. Had the previous family heads shown more assertiveness, they might have climbed the ranks much sooner.

"Lord Bartfort, what’s your assessment of the Holfort Kingdom’s military strength?"

"Well, it seems inappropriate for a backwater noble like me to comment on our national forces."

"That’s quite all right. I invited you to this gathering, which grants you the right to share your opinion with me."

"If I can understand it, I’m sure Mylene-sama and my wife will as well."

"There’s no need to be overly formal. As a representative of the nobility, speak freely."

"Understood."

"I’ll be direct—if a war were to break out with the Rachel Holy Kingdom or the Voldenova Holy Magic Empire, could the Holfort Kingdom prevail?"

"Absolutely not. It would be suicidal. I’d recommend fleeing or surrendering without hesitation."

Smack!

I struck Leon on the head as hard as I could. That was far too blunt! Yes, Mylene-sama encouraged him to speak candidly, but he could’ve at least phrased it more delicately! His Highness Julius looked stunned, while Mylene-sama merely chuckled in amusement. At the very least, it seemed we wouldn’t be reprimanded for insolence.

"Even if we mobilized the private armies of every noble house, would it still be hopeless?"

"Yes. Private armies are loyal to their territories, not the kingdom or the royal family. They follow their lords because those lords protect their lands. If it becomes clear the nation is losing, many will defect for the sake of survival."

"What if we hired skilled adventurers as mercenaries?"

"Adventurers and soldiers serve fundamentally different purposes. Adventurers rely on personal prowess, while soldiers must work as a cohesive unit. If a glory-seeker breaks formation, even a winnable battle can spiral into defeat."

"What about the established noble families?"

"Same problem. Perhaps worse. Their pride is excessive, and infighting between lords is common. Some have even leaked military secrets to sabotage their rivals. I’ve never seen a noble humble enough to obey a lower-ranking commander."

"So, both nobles and knights are unreliable?"

"On the contrary, commoners make better soldiers. They follow orders, subsist on modest rations, and endure harsh conditions without complaint. If you truly wish to strengthen the kingdom, it would be better to send noble children to military training rather than the academy. That’s just the opinion of a poor noble’s son who couldn’t afford tuition."

"I heard you enlisted before the war with Fanoss. How long would it take to rebuild our military strength?"

"Based on Angie’s analysis, no less than ten years. If we focus on recruiting fresh talent and promoting the capable, we might stabilize things within five to six years. But that assumes a consistent flow of young recruits, which is wishful thinking."

Julius and I were left speechless. Leon’s perspective stems from firsthand experience as a foot soldier—his words grounded in the brutal realities of war. It’s a stark contrast to Mylene-sama, who views war through the lens of statecraft, or Julius, who was raised in privilege and equipped with elite armor from the start.

Above all, his assertion that commoners make better soldiers than nobles or knights strikes at the very foundation of aristocratic rule. If misinterpreted, his words could be seen as a direct critique of the monarchy itself.

"Hehehe… Hahaha! You’re quite the character. You act coarse and unrefined, yet you’re impressively capable."

While Julius and I were still stunned, Mylene-sama burst into laughter. But it wasn’t her usual calculated smile—the kind where her lips curl while her eyes gleam with sharp scrutiny. This was a genuine smile, as if she’d stumbled upon something truly amusing or wondrously unexpected.

"It’s been a long time since I laughed like this. No wonder Angie fell for you. Frankly, the fact that someone like you never emerged from noble society before now is part of why this kingdom has stagnated."

"Thank you very much."

"I mean that sincerely, Lord Bartfort—or perhaps I should say Leon-kun. You’re far more capable than even you realize."

"I don’t think that’s true."

"If you ever develop aspirations for a greater role, come to the capital. I’ll personally arrange a position worthy of your talents."

"I’m honored by the offer, but I must respectfully decline. At the moment, my priority is restoring the Bartfort domain."

Here we go again. Ever since the capital’s elites took an interest in him, Leon’s been gaining more and more recognition. I’m the one who’s been by his side through it all—he’s my husband.

And yet, one brilliant woman after another keeps gravitating toward him. Swallowing the wave of emotions rising in my chest, I silently watch the exchange between Leon and Mylene-sama. My hands are clenched so tightly, the color drains from them—just like my face, which must be just as pale.

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Authors Note

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The collar scene is a classic trope—hello, everyone!

Dorothea’s diving in hard from her first marriage meeting, but it’s all within expectations since she has preset favorability events for Big bro Nicks. Leon’s view, grounded in his experience as a mere soldier, deviates from the tone of the original work. In Altreve, where airships and advanced armor are widespread, infantry likely hold low strategic value. Culturally, adventurers are seen as more desirable than soldiers. I drew from real-world sayings like “Good iron doesn’t become nails, and good people don’t become soldi

ers,” as well as from countries where soldiers were historically viewed as thugs.

Any feedback or thoughts would really encourage me—thank you for reading!