Chapter 39

When leaving the walled city, an order of knights bearing the crest of the great power came to welcome us.

The formalities were perfect, the words polite. But everyone could sense what lay beneath them.

—Prince of a small country. That unspoken ring.

We were guided to a hunting lodge just before the Royal Capital.

It was built of stone, but lacked the intimidation of a royal castle.

Low towers, a deep forest, a wide courtyard. A relay castle under the direct control of the Royal Family. The one who welcomed us was a Royal Mandate Inspector. He was a man who never removed his black leather gloves.

His voice was soft.

“By His Majesty’s command, please rest here.”

A polite demeanor. However, his eyes were not smiling. He continued with elegant pronunciation befitting a country of culture.

“If you would but touch upon the tradition and scholarship of our country, I am certain you will be satisfied.”

If you would but touch upon it.

The ring of someone on the teaching side. It is protection, and it is also surveillance. The hall was wide, with beast horns on the beams.

The textiles hanging on the walls were gorgeous, but somehow ostentatious.

The dinner was lavish. The venison was tender, and the use of herbs was refined. The wine was also of high quality. It was young, but well-managed.

—The highest class of courtesy.

But that wasn’t all. The number of dishes was large.

But the portions were modest. The flavors were strong. Spices and salt were excessive. This is not the hospitality of a castle.

It is someone’s test.

One bite of the venison.

“This is a young deer, isn’t it?”

The Royal Mandate Inspector’s brow twitched.

“It is well-managed.”

I took only a small sip of the wine.

“Three years. The barrel is new. The herbs are from the south.”

Silence. I placed my plate down.

“Let us have the academy’s cafeteria hold back on the salt.”

Everyone froze.

“It is better not to dull the tongues of those who learn.”

—I do not like this kind of meal.

The tongue dulls. The alcohol flows, and judgment is delayed. That is undesirable. I swirled my cup, checked only the aroma, and then touched it to my lips.

I see. This is hospitality. And at the same time, it is someone’s assessment. How will the prince of a small country behave at this table? Will he feel intimidated? Will he be overly grateful? Will he be swallowed by the luxury of the setting? Or will he drink too much and expose bad manners?

They are watching. Knowledge of cuisine. Handling of wine. Choice of conversation. Whether I have the education sufficient to establish an academy together.

And—spirit.

The Royal Mandate Inspector raised his cup. Black leather fingers touched the rim. I watched that, and then raised my own cup.

“Leather is a convenient thing, isn’t it? It can hide body temperature.”

The air in the hall paused slightly. The inspector’s eyes narrowed.

“…Oh my, whatever do you mean?”

I said matter-of-factly.

“At the table of diplomacy, body temperature sometimes gets in the way.”

I did not smile.

“Tonight, let us proceed at a mutually appropriate temperature.”

The Royal Mandate Inspector holds his cup while always wearing gloves. Not a single fingertip, not a bit of bare skin is exposed.

The season is mild. Even so, he doesn’t take them off. It’s no coincidence. That is distance.

By putting a single layer of skin between us, he is protecting himself. No, that’s wrong. Rather than protecting—he is avoiding contact. With the other party, with responsibility, with emotion.

Bare hands transmit body temperature. Trembling, sweat, tension. But leather blocks that.

Not showing bare skin in a diplomatic setting is a demonstration of intent that he will not step down into the same ring. While at a table of friendship, we are absolutely not friends.

I see.

Those gloves are a piece of armor.

In that case, I cannot take off my armor either. I have no outer armor to wear. But an unwavering heart is exactly my armor.

I placed my cup down.

With my bare hands.

The Royal Mandate Inspector opened his mouth.

“It is said that our country’s cuisine nurtures the tongues of royalty.”

An ostentatious tone. Soft, but as if measuring. I placed my cup down.

“Whether it grows or not depends on the soil.”

The hall fell silent.

“If it is good soil, the seed will naturally sprout.”

I didn’t avert my gaze.

“It will likely be the same for the academy.”

Nurtures, huh. Words directed at an immature person.

…A nostalgic ring. I heard similar words in my previous life too.

“We’ll let you learn here.”

“We’ll train you.”

Whenever I am told such things, the appraisal is already over. In that case, the response is simple. Do not show emotion.

Do not let the alcohol flow. Show courtesy, but do not grovel. It is the same as business.

At a table with an evaluator, unnecessary emotion becomes a cost. I neither smile nor show anger.

“I thank you for your excessive hospitality.”

My tone was flat. Neither subservient nor provocative.

The inspector’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“The establishment of the academy will become our country’s honor.”

Honor. In that word, contempt seeps through.

—A ring that says, ‘We will teach you.’

I placed my cup down.

“If it takes a mutually beneficial form, that is better than anything.”

Words of equality.

The hospitality is genuine. The contempt is also genuine.

In that case, the way of responding must also be genuine.

I placed my cup down.

This table, too, is nothing more than just another meeting.

The attendants were stiff.

Even while carrying food to their mouths, they were checking the arrangement of the surrounding soldiers, the number of doors, and the height of the windows.

This is another country. Our only allies are ourselves.

But the Third Prince stood up flatly after the meal.

“I wish to attend tomorrow’s audience in perfect condition. Please excuse me for tonight.”

He gently rejected useless pleasantries. The Royal Mandate Inspector did not break his smile. But his eyes were cold.

“You must be tired from the long journey. Please relax.”

Relax. Behind that word lies the intent to observe.

My room was on the second floor of the main tower. It was quieter than the hall downstairs, but footsteps faintly echoed through the stone walls. The ceiling was high, and the beams were exposed. The windows were narrow, and the forest outside looked sunk in black. The size was sufficient. The bed was of high quality, and the desk was polished.

But the air was cold. The stones embraced the night’s moisture and gave off a dry scent.

There is no warmth. It is a room that is merely prepared.

Outside the window is a forest. Before turning down the lights, I spread out the blueprints handed to me by the Royal Mandate Inspector during the day.

A zoning map of the planned academy site.

The size of the site, the surrounding streets, the distance from the waterways. I rearranged the layout of the buildings in my head and calculated the necessary personnel and materials.

It is not vanity. It is calculation for the sake of realization.

Marc spoke in a low voice.

“…They are looking down on you, aren’t they.”

I didn’t look up from the blueprints.

“Based on what?”

A brief silence.

“Even though it was a dinner, he never took off his gloves until the end.”

The light flickered.

“Even during the toast, even when reaching for the food. Not once did he show Your Highness his bare skin.”

I quietly folded the paper.

“…Contempt, huh.”

Marc didn’t answer immediately.

“It’s distance. He doesn’t view you as an equal.”

The air in the room grew cold. I let out a short breath.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Marc looked up.

“As long as they can look down on us, they are still at ease.”

I turned down the lights.

“That ease will not last long.”

Marc nodded.

“Do not waver.”

“Yes, sir.”

That response was quiet and strong. I turned out the lights.

“That is all for today.”

Outside, soldiers of the neighboring country are keeping watch. Vigilance wearing the face of friendship. The road ahead is still long. The academy, the treaty, and the accumulation to update our standing.

People test people.

But those gazes always return.

The hunting lodge in the forest is quiet.

Smiles and courtesy, everything is arranged. But I was looking at what lay at the bottom of that quietness.