Chapter Two: The Dark Lord and Braune
Braune-En-Froisbourg was born as the eldest daughter of a marquis family.
Her father, Marcel, was the seneschal of the House of Leroi. In the Kingdom of Santeneri, the prime minister has traditionally taken the title of “seneschal.” Thus, she was the daughter of the Kingdom of Santeneri’s prime minister.
The great nation of Santeneri, which ruled the western region of the Central Continent, had an ancient history.
Approximately fifteen hundred years ago, immediately after the great upheaval known as the “Surge of Peoples” that had engulfed the entire Central Continent subsided, the Santeneri region formed a single political and cultural unity centered on the royal authority of the House of Leroi. This would later become the unified Kingdom of Santeneri.
The official name—”The Sole Kingdom on Earth, Guardian of the Orthodox Faith”—which no one uses anymore except at official ceremonies, clearly demonstrates the length of the kingdom’s history.
The Froisbourg family to which Braune belonged had an equally ancient history. Legend had it that about eight hundred years ago, during the early stages of the Santeneri Unification War, the founder was enfeoffed at the foot of the Central Massif for military achievements. It was also said that the founder was a heroine who had aided the House of Leroi and distinguished herself on the battlefield, though that was surely just a “story.” However, it was also true that the descendants of the Froisbourg family had taken the exploits of the first head, Braune-Ene-En-Froisbourg, quite seriously. As proof, every eldest daughter of the Froisbourg family without exception inherited the name “Braune.”
The current Braune gave those who saw her a graceful impression based on her appearance, but she too, like the eldest daughters before her, had been educated to live like the first Braune. She had been raised with a love instilled for such qualities as thoughtfulness, precision, and decisiveness.
Braune did not like the new king who had ascended the throne just last year, Grois XIII—Grois-Ene-En-Leroi. The king was two years her junior, a twenty-year-old youth. A little immaturity wouldn’t have been a problem, but even so, there were limits. That was her honest feeling.
Even during his crown prince days, Grois’s actions had been too extreme. There was probably some youthful eagerness to lead the nation as the next king. However, even from her perspective—she who was similarly young and inexperienced in the world—it was nothing more than a fervor in which restoration and radicalism mixed chaotically.
The king admired the achievements of Grois VII, renowned as the restorer of the Leroi dynasty, and believed himself to be that king’s reincarnation. Grois VII was a wise ruler who had subjugated the various principalities that stubbornly survived within Santeneri territory, defeated the interfering Empire, and brought the Santeneri Unification War to an end. He was also deeply faithful to the Orthodox Faith and considered himself the “Guardian of the Orthodox Faith.” He believed that unifying Santeneri was the mission given to him by God.
That would be fine five hundred years ago. It was an era when knights wielding spears were still active. But by now, it was utterly anachronistic.
The policies young Grois XIII advocated were mainly two:
Thorough enforcement of Orthodox doctrine. And expansion of overseas territories.
Perhaps because he had become too absorbed in the teachings of the Orthodox Church, the king brought up the outdated concept of “magic power” (maryoku) and desired the restoration of the “good old social order” preached by the Orthodox Faith. Not only did this involve suppressing the rising commoners, but even within noble society he demanded strict hierarchical relationships. He aimed for the ancient ideal: nobles devoted to the king, commoners blindly obedient to the nobles.
The basis for this was the Orthodox teaching that “humans are positioned on earth according to the amount of their magic power.”
But how does one even measure magic power in the first place? This isn’t a fairy tale. Not a single person on this earth can manifest flames from their palms. It had been common knowledge for over a hundred years that the Orthodox ideology of basing social hierarchy on the mysterious power called magic power was nothing more than a device to promote the fixation of domination-subjugation structures.
Next, the expansion of overseas territories. This was even more of a pipe dream than the former.
Braune had heard an outline of the near-bankrupt national finances from her father, the kingdom’s prime minister. The kingdom’s fleet had been ground down by the repeated interventions and failures in the New Continent by the previous king, Grois XII, and there was no prospect of rebuilding it at all. In fact, proposals had even been made to sell the remaining warships to other countries—such was the pathetic state of affairs.
Even supposing that fleet could be rebuilt, the army, essential for maintaining overseas territories, was also significantly weakened. Both required the cooperation of the common people for reconstruction—in terms of both money and human resources. So if he was serious about military preparations, the new king should naturally lean toward the commoners, meaning he should aim for reform.
Despite this, the king wished for these contradictory policies to coexist.
Fossilized Orthodox restoration and dreamy expansionism.
Braune’s father, Marquis Froisbourg, had repeatedly admonished the king about this mass of unreality. Even late at night when the household had gone to sleep, the light in her father’s study would not go out. When she visited his room, she saw her father, his face flushed red from strong liquor, buried in the back of a couch. She knew “who” was the cause of that scene.
As the daughter of the prime minister, the daughter of one of the nation’s leading great nobles, Braune knew that her name was being raised as a candidate to be either the king’s principal consort or a secondary consort.
While the Orthodox Faith basically preached monogamy, the situation of having secondary consorts to maintain the royal bloodline had long been normalized. A secondary consort was not elegant language for a mistress. They were legitimate daughters of great noble houses and, though lacking the Orthodox Church’s approval, were treated as de facto queens. Naturally within the country, and they received similar treatment in other countries as well.
One day, when she had reluctantly attended an afternoon tea party as part of her “duties,” Braune could not forget the words that Grois, still crown prince at the time, had spat out before her eyes.
“Those whores swarming around Father—the moment I ascend the throne, I’ll immediately throw them out of this palace.”
In Orthodox doctrine, relations between men and women are considered sacred one-to-one bonds. Therefore, to the prince who aimed for Orthodox restoration, the existence of his father’s secondary consorts was something to be spat upon. But those being thrown out wouldn’t remain silent either. Each of them was from one of the nation’s leading great houses . There was even potential for this to develop into civil war.
The king we are about to serve will probably become the lord of a ruined nation. She was convinced of it.
Being his consort? Absolutely not.
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About a year after Crown Prince became King Grois XIII, when she heard he had suddenly fallen ill, it would be a lie to say there was no joy whatsoever in her heart. In the year under the new king’s rule, her father had been severely berated by the new king and suspended from service. In other words, he had been dismissed. As for a successor, there was no one. The king, following his ideal Grois VII, desired personal rule. While her father’s dismissal was lamentable, she secretly rejoiced that it had completely eliminated the possibility of marriage.
However, unfortunately, the king survived. About a week after the news of the king’s recovery, a messenger from the royal house suddenly came to the Froisbourg estate. To summon her father, they said.
The household fell into turmoil. Depending on the circumstances, they needed to consider exile. It was none other than Braune who recommended this to her father. Fortunately, the messenger had not brought soldiers. They could delay the timing of the visit using illness as an excuse, and perhaps prepare in the meantime. She was a woman who inherited the name of their ancestor. At critical moments, she oriented toward action without hesitation.
However, her father the marquis rejected Braune’s argument to flee. He insisted on fulfilling his loyalty to the end as the seneschal of the Kingdom of Santeneri and the House of Leroi, and wouldn’t listen. Instead, he told her to return to their home territory and prepare for exile. But he must have known that his daughter would not follow that order. He handed her a bottle of medicine “effective against all suffering in this world” and, instructing her to drink it if anything happened, her father boarded the carriage.
Her father, summoned in the morning, returned safely in the evening. Braune doubted her own eyes.
—Father has returned!
An even greater shock awaited her. Her father’s first words could be summed up in one word: incomprehensible.
“His Majesty—will become a wise ruler.”
His voice trembling, seeming absent-minded, the marquis continued.
“At the next tea party, His Majesty desires your attendance. Go without worry. And tell me everything you feel. I need your judgment. I still cannot trust my own eyes, ears, or hands.”
When she met face-to-face with the king for the first time in several months, he appeared completely unchanged on the surface. The short-cropped blond hair, the cleanly shaved beard . Those emerald eyes too.
The king liked sweets. He would bite and chew confections with particular violence. Crumbs would spread across the floor. That too was probably an imitation of Grois VII, whom he admired. Indifferent to trivial matters , bold and unrestrained . Always ready for battle. It was mimicry.
Braune, with her naturally fastidious personality, couldn’t stand his childish behavior. Whenever she served as his tea party companion, she always tried to keep as much distance from the king as possible. Because crumbs and spittle would fly.
He has the wrong idea of manliness. She held him in contempt inwardly.
She noticed the king’s “change,” therefore, when she saw the way he “ate.” The king was eating a baked confection “carefully.” Not excessively so. He was just bringing it to his mouth normally. Nevertheless, compared to his previous exaggerated performance, this appeared to be very delicate behavior.
The next thing that surprised her was when the king dropped a fragment of the baked confection. The confections he favored had low-density dough and crumbs fell easily. Sure enough, he dropped some while eating.
“Ah, I dropped some…”
He murmured that.
—Dropped some?
That King Grois said “I dropped some”?
Unable to hide her shock , Braune stared fixedly, and the king, noticing her, said with a slightly embarrassed air:
“I’ve shown you something unsightly. Please forgive me, Lady Braune.”
She gazed in bewilderment at him trying to pick up the crumbs on his lap with his fingers, looking embarrassed. He even spoke to the servant who had hurried over to clean the floor.
“Ah, I’m sorry. …This confection is very delicious, but it’s a bit difficult to eat it neatly.”
“I’m sorry” to a servant!?
Impossible.
What was impossible?
That such behavior was performed so “naturally.”
Was it an act? But what need was there for such an act?
“Lady Braune?”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
“This tea party is a bit stiff, isn’t it?”
“It is a gift of Your Majesty’s august presence.”
Words she didn’t mean at all automatically left her mouth. That would have been the optimal response to the previous Grois.
“August presence is a wonderful thing. However, I think we could be a bit more relaxed. Ah… for example, Lady Braune, have you experienced anything recently in your daily life that you found interesting?”
“Interesting, you say…”
Thrown such an unexpected question, she found herself at a loss for an answer.
“Ah, please don’t take it so seriously. It’s just small talk. For example, yesterday I noticed the charm of this watch. I’ve used it as a matter of course until now, but when I looked at it carefully, I was astonished by its elegance. That was a very interesting discovery for me.”
“A watch, you say…”
“Yes. This one.”
Grois took out his own pocket watch from his jacket and showed it to her. It was an ordinary gold watch. He opened the lid and held up the dial, but sitting across the tea table, Braune couldn’t see the fine details at all.
“This pattern is very delicate and beautiful. When I think that there are craftsmen in our country who can make such wonderful things, I somehow feel proud.”
He removed the chain connecting his jacket and the pocket watch. Standing up quietly, he circumvented the table and approached Braune. If it had been before, though she wouldn’t have shown it outwardly, her entire body would have bristled.
However, at this moment, she felt no revulsion at Grois’s approach. The way he walked slowly and measuredly seemed to come from meticulous care not to make her tense. That’s how she felt.
The king held out the edge of the pocket watch by pinching it so as not to touch Braune’s hand. She received it with both hands.
The watchmakers of the Kingdom of Santeneri had long been dominated by immigrants from the Empire. However, as one could imagine from the existence of fervent nostalgists like Grois XIII, there were moments when an atmosphere of xenophobia would explode in Santeneri from time to time.
This had happened about a hundred years ago as well. A royal edict was issued to expel immigrants from the Empire, particularly those who believed in the Scripture Faction, which the Orthodox mainstream considered heretical, and the watchmakers, many of whom belonged to the Scripture Faction, left Santeneri.
Eventually, as time passed and the atmosphere in the country changed, some returned to Santeneri, though they were few. Santeneri watches were being made by these returning “minority.”
If it had been the former Grois, he would have praised the expulsion of watchmakers as something like “the victory of Santeneri’s pure blood and Orthodox mainstream.” But now, the king praised the watches made by those who had returned as “a source of pride.”
In Braune’s palm, the small second hand of the pocket watch continued to rotate, making a faint sound. Heat still remained in the gold case. The heat of the person named Grois.
“Your Majesty, regarding something interesting—I still cannot recall anything immediately. If I may be granted the privilege of being called upon again, I would like to make it an assignment until next time.”
“Ah, please do so. I apologize for suddenly saying something strange. Lady Braune is a kind person. You forgive my failures.”
—This is really bad.
This has become quite strange. The king has changed.
While opening wide those blue eyes, Braune nodded back repeatedly in small motions.
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