Chapter 76 : The Trap

“Ah, if it’s about that story, I’ve heard it too. Apparently, it’s quite the delicacy, surprisingly so, haha!”

“Oh? Is that so? Didn’t I make a name for myself as a gourmet on this ship? I must say, I’m intrigued as well.”

Starting with Marquis Dowenel, the other nobles chimed in one after another.

Isabelle bit her lip. She was feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

First, there was a sense of relief that Edmund was provoking Glenn in a direct manner.

On the other hand, there was anxiety—what if the provoked Glenn suddenly lost control and caused an unexpected incident?

On the surface, she was allied with Edmund, but in reality, she was in the complicated position of being allied with Glenn.

Perhaps that’s why her emotions were so unsettled.

After the noisy chatter died down, Dowenel once again addressed Glenn.

“Prince, could you possibly satisfy our curiosity? Hearing your firsthand impressions would be most helpful…”

With a sly expression, Dowenel curled one side of his mouth. For a brief moment, Glenn felt the urge to rip that tongue right out.

Of course, he did not act on it.

“Speak clearly.”

His reply was curt and reluctant.

Anyone could tell he wasn’t in the mood to answer.

“Ahem. You people—what kind of manners are these? My apologies, Prince, if I’ve offended you, I’ll be sure to warn them sharply.”

Once again, Edmund took the initiative.

Their words seemed to be more of a joke on the surface, but Marquis Edmund’s interjections created a situation where it was hard for Glenn to get genuinely angry.

Very skillful.

Not quite that skilled, but still—this wasn’t the kind of topic to bring up during a pleasant meal.

“Dowenel, Marquis, do restrain yourselves. By the way… where exactly did you hear such a story?”

He changed the subject while issuing a warning. That was a clear sign to keep going.

Glenn confirmed this by looking at Edmund’s smirk.

“Ah—one of the merchants I deal with is from Lepent. I happened to overhear this story while chatting with him.”

“Oh? You heard it straight from a northern native? Then it’s probably not just a rumor.”

Edmund shot a glance at Glenn again.

“He is certainly an unpleasant fellow.”

Quietly sly, acting as if he hadn’t said a thing, his manner was quite insidious.

From the start, Dowenel and the others seemed like mere pawns—Edmund had to be brought down a notch first.

“Curious, are you? The truth is, orc meat is something that only people in dire straits or with refined palates can appreciate. In my opinion… it’s probably not to your tastes, especially—”

Glenn set down his fork on the table, deliberately turning it toward Marquis Edmund.

Then he gave him a faint smile and met his gaze.

“I suspect it would be even less to your liking, Marquis Edmund.”

Surprised by the unexpected retort, the Marquis’s eyelids twitched briefly.

“… What do you mean by that?”

“No particular meaning. I’m merely stating a fact.”

“Haha, I never expected you to say that yourself. I admit I am an orc, after all.”

Though he smiled as if unbothered, it was clear he wasn’t truly amused.

“Ah, I’m not referring to simple lineage. Calling someone ‘orc’ who doesn’t act like one is laughable, isn’t it? There are certainly orc-like women who look the part but aren’t actually warriors.”

This time the insult was more overt.

The Marquis’s eyelids twitched more strongly—‘like a woman’ was a direct affront to his traditional values.

“… What are you implying?”

“In Lepent, all orcs are warriors. Not cowards or mere brutes, but true warriors. But you, Marquis, don’t exactly fit that type, do you? That’s all I’m saying.”

Edmund frowned and glared sharply.

Other nobles listening in also reacted.

“Watch your words!”

“Are you insulting the Marquis?!”

Bang!

Suddenly, Glenn slammed the table.

“Insulting? Who do you think started this?”

His cold glare swept across the room, making everyone flinch.

But Edmund did not avert his gaze. Instead, he challenged him even more aggressively.

“Insult? When did we insult you, Prince? We were merely talking about food… haha.”

“Hmm, ‘food’… you have an interesting way of speaking. Do you even know what orc meat is?”

Lepent was a harsh land.

There was little arable land, and even less food to be had. Those who tilled the earth were always in shortage.

They didn’t even have enough soldiers to stop orcs crossing the castle walls.

That was why food was precious in Lepent.

So precious, they had to resort to eating the flesh of their hateful enemies.

Orcs practiced cannibalism.

To them, humans were both food and a delicacy.

But the opposite was true as well.

Orcs were not suitable as food for humans. Their meat was tough, stinky, bitter, and had the worst taste imaginable.

On top of that, it contained mild toxins, making it utterly terrible as a food source.

Yet what could they do?

The cold northern lands gave little to humans.

Yet to survive, they had no choice but to swallow the orc meat they hated.

That meat was what they’d forced down their throats, night after night.

To take the flesh of the monster that devoured their comrades yesterday—

Who could possibly imagine what kind of feeling that was?

Glenn’s explanation was brief and blunt.

That made the anger hit all the harder.

“People like you don’t throw around such things lightly at a dining table. Do I make myself clear?”

A warning growled out like a beast.

The nobles still avoided his gaze, while the guards in the room began to take notice.

“Prince.”

Isabelle seemed uneasy, but when Glenn gave her a subtle look, she quieted down.

His anger was part of the plan.

However, if he truly lost his temper, it would be a different matter—they could not afford to kill nobles like Edmund.

Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, Edmund had no intention of backing down easily.

“Fine, fine, it’s not something to boast about anyway… why make such a fuss?”

“Boasting? Do you think I’m boasting?”

The formal tone they had been maintaining snapped off suddenly.

The mood at the banquet was about to break down completely.

Ironically, this was exactly what everyone in the room had expected.

Edmund opened his mouth, apparently intending to land a final blow.

“Hah, so your true colors finally show. It must be hard to keep it in, coming from your background.”

He thought this was his chance—a perfect opportunity to instill strong resentment toward Arian in this reckless bastard.

“You seem quite dissatisfied with me, Marquis? But is all that fussing and nagging really the Arian way?”

“This is just childish. Is this really the time to pick a fight at dinner? Are you suggesting we fight?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Truly barbaric. Or should I just say typical of a noble?

Clatter.

Glenn stood abruptly, shooting the Marquis a frosty glare.

“… Have you finished speaking?”

“No, there’s more. Dining with barbarians like you is no longer an option. Leave this room at once.”

“Bah… it’s disappointing that a human like you is a Marquis of Arian.”

“I assure you, no one in Arian would ever welcome a man like you. Now get out immediately.”

That was enough.

Isabelle made a subtle magical gesture.

Glenn caught the signal and stepped toward the exit.

Just as he reached to open the door, it swung open from the outside.

“Wait, pardon me.”

Someone unexpected appeared.

“Huh?”

“… Your Majesty?”

Contrat entered the room and fixed his gaze on Glenn.

“Ah, Prince Glenn. I happened to overhear your conversation.”

“Your Majesty!”

“What is the meaning of this…”

Contrat lowered his head without hesitation.

“Allow me to apologize first. As King of Arian, I must address the rudeness of the nobles under my command. This is entirely my fault.”

“… Bow your head. It is burdensome.”

This was unprecedented.

A king of one country bowing to a foreigner—especially one as young and fiery as the Lepent heir—was almost unimaginable, considering his usual authoritative nature.

“Are you accepting my apology?”

“Of course.”

And without further fuss, he accepted it.

What on earth…?

Edmund’s expression suddenly changed from dazed to urgent. The situation was turning in a strange direction.

“Wait—what is going on?”

“Marquis Edmund, this is truly a disappointment.”

Glenn gave Edmund a cold glare.

“I told you Lepent is an important ally… what were you thinking to commit such rudeness?”

“Th-that…”

Something was off.

Contrat’s sudden appearance was convenient, of course.

And the reckless madman who seemed ready to kill moments ago was suddenly calm.

This felt like—yes, a single play unfolding.

“Could it be?”

Glenn looked toward Isabelle.

She was now standing beside him, and when their eyes met, she smiled faintly.

At that smile, Edmund felt chills crawl over his body.

“I’ve been fooled.”

Muttering hopelessly, he rapidly pieced it all together.

Princess Isabelle was on Glenn’s side. So was Contrat.

What was their purpose?

Now that he thought about it, Isabelle’s approach was strategic from the start.

Their first meeting was probably a trap.

Or perhaps this entire ball was one big scheme.

“Marquis, you’d better answer my questions directly.”

So then? What was their ultimate goal? Glenn struggled to organize his thoughts.

… What did Contrat say just now? The answer, the response…

Marquis Edmund narrowed his eyes and stared back at Contrat.

At the same time, Glenn sensed his instinct.

“… Damn it.”

The emotion in Contrat’s eyes was clear—greed. Yes, immense greed.

What was the target? There was no need to think deeply.

If he considered the Crempski family…

“The Imperial Senate.”

That’s right, they planned to use this as a pretext to pressure the Senate.

“You damn old fool—”

Currently, the Senate was presided over by Edmund’s own father, who had guided Contrat onto the path of a merchant.

Were they really going to stab their own benefactor in the back?

“… An abrupt visit, Your Majesty. A heads-up would have been appreciated.”

“Don’t waste time. Just answer my questions. What were you thinking to plot this?”

“It’s a misunderstanding. There was just a lot of talk at the dining table.”

“Your version differs quite a bit from what I was told.”

That vile woman.

Edmund bit his lip and glared at Isabelle.

“You intended to provoke Prince Glenn and foster resentment against Arian. If you could break the alliance between our two countries—that would weaken the royal authority. Naturally, the Senate’s power would grow stronger… You did say as much, didn’t you?”

Boom.

Edmund wanted nothing more than to rush forward and throttle Isabelle’s neck.

“That’s… that’s what the Princess told me—”

“Ah, don’t waste time with useless excuses. You wouldn’t seriously claim Princess Isabelle planned a rebellion, would you?”

“… I don’t know. I have no idea what the Princess is talking about.”

“Hmph, playing innocent. For now, that’s your best bet. But mark my words—I’ve discovered something quite interesting.”

A servant standing behind Contrat handed over a document.

“Huh?”

“A ledger. More precisely, proof that High Priest Francis and the Senate exchanged money.”

“What nonsense is this…”

There’s no way such a thing still exists.

It’s true that during the civil war, some in the Senate tried to contact High Priest Francis. Why? Because I was the one who stopped that foolish act.

Therefore, Edmund was certain this document was forged.

If they prevented the contact, how could this document even exist?

“This is absurd slander! There’s no proof that it’s real—”

“Haha, my friend, why do you act like a fool? Does it even matter whether it’s real or fake? Are you seriously asking that now?”

The smile tugging at Contrat’s lips chilled Edmund to his core.

“C-could it be…”

“Yes. The Hawk Knights have already been deployed to your family. And soon, they will arrest you. Because the crime attached to your family is—”

Contrat’s smile deepened.

It was like he was holding back laughter.

“None other than ‘treason.’”

No one in the Crempski family would survive.

Not a single ant.