The victor of the duel was clear.
Naturally, it was Glenn’s victory.
“…….”
Yet, he didn’t feel particularly good. Wearing a deeply furrowed expression, he immediately left the dueling ground.
The gazes around him were filled with a variety of emotions—surprise, fear, awe, favor…
Meanwhile, Count Raoul, the one defeated in the duel, looked rather disgraceful. As soon as he regained his composure, he picked a fight with Isabelle, who was watching from the sidelines.
“W-wait a moment! That guy intimidated Princess Isabelle! That’s a clear fact! I am here at Her Highness’s request—”
Raoul’s shabby appearance, shouting in a half-crazed manner, was truly unpleasant.
“When did I ever make such a request?”
Isabelle herself immediately retorted.
“P-Princess? What is this—?”
“That’s a strange thing to say. Why would you even think to use me as an excuse for that?”
As she repeated her words, the reaction from the noble spectators against Raoul grew close to outright hatred. Even in Arian, how many people would side with a loser of a duel?
“Pfft, that so-called Count is truly pathetic…”
“To think the Nerbourg family would stoop that low is disappointing.”
At this point, Raoul was practically exiled from society. He had already given enough reason.
Those who were hesitant to turn against Raoul would have dwindled significantly.
“Tch, Count Raoul. For a defeated man, you sure are acting disgracefully.”
Now it was only a matter of time before Contrat would personally take care of hunting him down. He would definitely demand an explanation and chase this to the very end.
Isabelle confirmed Raoul’s dejected expression and shifted her steps in the direction Glenn had gone.
Her own expression was rather grim as well.
***
“Prince Glenn!”
Actually, Isabelle was a bit angry right now. Naturally, her face was stiffer than usual.
“…Princess Isabelle.”
Coincidentally, Glenn was no different.
A voice, as if suppressing something, suddenly burst out.
“You were definitely trying to kill the Count earlier, weren’t you?”
His sharp, questioning gaze was fierce.
Glenn flared his eyes in reply.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“…I distinctly told you to refrain from killing him.”
“I couldn’t hold back. Unfortunately.”
This time, Isabelle furrowed her brows.
Why is this happening? He’s not stupid enough to misunderstand my words.
Then what? Is he really doing this on purpose?
“Are you playing games with me? What do you think I am—”
“The knight’s duel is not some clown’s show.”
A low, long voice followed.
Glenn met Isabelle’s fierce gaze without flinching and continued.
“Maybe not in Arian, but in Lepent, that’s how it is. Someone must die for the duel to end; it’s never taken lightly. And I am a knight of Lepent. Understand?”
“Is that so? But you’re currently in Arian, and you need to win the favor of the Arian nobility. And yet you’re saying this over such a petty reason? You should have more common sense.”
Beyond frustration, a trace of impatience crept in.
No matter what anyone says, Glenn is a knight and warrior of Lepent. That is part of his identity and a path engraved in his life.
So, Isabelle’s words touched a nerve.
“That’s such a petty reason…”
In the harsh Republic of Lepent, one knight is responsible for the lives of tens, even hundreds of soldiers. He is a superhuman presence who alone can hold back the natural disasters called orcs.
A very precious existence.
Therefore, duels between knights are extremely, extremely rare.
Only when their very existence is a thorn in each other’s side to the point of madness.
Only when there is a grudge deeper than the responsibility for dozens or hundreds of lives.
Only in those cases is a duel conducted.
The weight engraved in one’s own life is different. To be a knight in Lepent means that.
But honor? Etiquette? Sportsmanship? Grace?
Such things are laughable—no, they are fucking nonsense.
“That’s not true.”
The expressions exchanged between the two bore many feelings.
Annoyance, disappointment, frustration—roughly those.
“Are you saying you want to play games with me right now?!”
The greatest feeling Isabelle had toward this man in front of her was disappointment. How many times had she sided with Glenn so far?
Moreover, telling him not to kill the Count was ultimately for his sake.
Of course, their mutual understanding was in place, but it was also clear that she had sided with Glenn. She showed him favor because she respected him that much.
Then why was he acting so selfishly?
Did he really not feel even the slightest gratitude for what she had done?
“Do you not understand? Princess, you are insulting me right now!”
On the other hand, Glenn had his reasons.
He had cooperated with Isabelle’s plan as much as possible—that was an undeniable fact.
Yes, he had done his best.
But this was unacceptable.
Because she asked for something a knight of Lepent could never accept. Just because it was “business,” how far was he supposed to accept this?
Did Isabelle truly not consider these cultural differences even a little?
The two exchanged strong gazes—then both sighed.
“Huu…”
“Ha…”
An uncomfortable atmosphere began to flow between them.
***
“That’s reasonable.”
Edmund, who had been watching the duel, quietly stroked his chin. He recalled the dinner he had with Princess Isabelle the previous evening.
***
“I’ll take Count Raoul off your hands.”
“…You speak as if it’s already in your possession.”
It was a rather careless remark, but Edmund was not fazed.
Poker face was one of his strong suits.
“As long as you have the will, it’s as good as in your hands. So, what do you think? There’s no need for me to mention the relationship between Count Raoul and the Marquis, is there?”
The relationship between Count Raoul and Marquis Edmund was not something that could be described as good, even as an exaggeration. Their personalities clashed, and their political stances were also opposed.
Honestly, Edmund couldn’t understand how such a man could lead a faction.
Anyway—
“…He seems quite different from what I saw this morning.”
Indeed, he was different.
That morning, Princess Isabelle looked somewhat awkward and immature, like a teenage girl pretending to be a lady.
But now, she was not like that.
“The way you looked at the Marquis, and how I’ve been looked at from all sides, I suppose this is the answer?”
A mask, was it?
A pretty plausible explanation. Nobles like themselves rarely met anyone without a mask.
But… could she really wield it that skillfully?
“I understand what you mean… but not all wizards who enter the Mage Tower become Archmages.”
Not everyone with a mask handles it well.
That was the question.
“If I keep acting immature and awkward, would the Marquis really see me as a bargaining chip?”
“…Hah.”
That’s true.
An incompetent soldier is better off an enemy.
“So then, what did you mean earlier about the Count?”
With a smirk, Isabelle opened a ledger.
The cautious Wyvern finally took the bait.
“I told you, I’ll prove it.”
Currently, Isabelle’s political standing in the palace was formidable. King Contrat’s blatant favoritism toward her was the reason.
The very reason Isabelle approached Edmund was about this.
If she became queen, Arian would once again be centered around the Imperial Senate. That was the core of the conversation during the morning dance.
Against this background, Isabelle’s current proposal was this.
She would drive a wedge between Lepent’s Crown Prince and Count Raoul.
“How does that relate to the ‘proof’ you mentioned, Princess?”
“My father clearly desires an alliance with Lepent. And naturally, that’s bad news for the Senate, right? If you think that far, the answer will come.”
Edmund furrowed his brow slightly at the cryptic answer. It was mysterious, but not incomprehensible.
First, the alliance between Arian and Lepent was obviously bad news for the Senate. The royal family’s power, including Contrat’s, would only grow stronger.
And this would lead to the rivalry between Glenn and Raoul.
“…So whoever wins, it benefits me… is that it?”
“Later on, it’s still the Marquis.”
A slight smile curled on Edmund’s lips.
It was a rather good proposal.
If Raoul loses?
Then so be it.
One political opponent collapses.
Conversely, if Glenn loses?
And if he harbors resentment toward Arian?
“Perhaps it could lead to breaking the alliance with Lepent. Or, to be exact—cause it to happen.”
“That’s right. You understand this well. With you, Marquis, it’s certainly possible.”
“Hm, quite an interesting proposal.”
“Not just interesting. It’s a win-win for us.”
Edmund contemplated the twinkling eyes before him. It wasn’t a long deliberation—he knew it was only beneficial.
Therefore, he readily accepted.
“…Very well. But I have one condition.”
Assuming, of course, that the duel between Glenn and Raoul truly takes place.
***
And the duel did indeed take place.
Moreover, the outcome was perfect. Raoul was defeated, and Glenn seemed unknowingly angry.
Edmund’s smirk was noticeable.
“She’s quite a useful woman.”
He believed that women were unsuitable for political activities. He had heard that since his ancestors’ ancestors. But Princess Isabelle was surprisingly clever.
Because she was a princess? Or simply survival instinct?
Judging by how she handled things, she was not lacking in ability.
Yes, there would be no harm in joining forces with her.
“Hmm.”
Yet, a shadow of suspicion that endlessly stirred his unease.
A nickname quietly spreading behind the scenes.
Hidden beneath her splendid title as the flower of the kingdom.
All those who had politically faced Isabelle called her that.
“The Black Snake.”
A deadly venomous serpent.
This was why Edmund was so wary of Isabelle’s approach.
“…Tch, after all, she’s just a woman.”
Isabelle added a final remark during the dinner.
Rumors about the man named Glenn.
This man was violent and domineering. Yet her father intended to marry her off to him for the alliance.
Please, someone stop this from happening.
Looking back, wasn’t this whole affair just because she didn’t want to get married? A rather petty reason.
Whether she’s the flower of the kingdom or the Black Snake, she’s still just a woman.
So there’s nothing to worry about.
“Back to Arian being the Imperial Senate’s domain… that’s good.”
That’s right. This country originally belonged to the Senate.
Arian’s history and tradition are the Senate.
That was why Contrat and Stauffen should never be recklessly defied.
A cunning light flickered in Edmund’s eyes.