Chapter 174
Because He Is Precious
The eastern grasslands of the Arken Empire.
Spring was in full bloom. A cool breeze carried the fragrance of flowers across the land.
It was a vast and peaceful plateau, yet it could become drenched in blood in an instant.
After enduring the bitter winter, spring was the season when new life emerged.
At this time of year, dire wolf packs were more vicious and merciless than ever.
Their prey was a woman walking alone across the plateau in the middle of the night.
The wolves expertly formed a perimeter around her, completely cutting off every route of escape.
It seemed only a matter of time before her bones were scattered across the tranquil grasslands.
But this woman was different.
She showed no fear or tension.
Grrrrr...
As the dire wolves tightened their encirclement, they abruptly began growling in alarm.
Their instincts had warned them.
The woman they had regarded as helpless prey only seconds ago was anything but easy to kill.
The woman remained utterly unafraid.
Her face was expressionless, as though everything in the world were meaningless to her.
After staring blankly ahead, she slowly moved her eyes toward the dire wolves.
Two moons seemed to be embedded within them.
The dire wolf that met her gaze flinched.
Though they were mere beasts, they saw their own futures.
The instant they lunged at this slender woman, they would become corpses upon the plateau.
The dire wolves abandoned their encirclement and fled with their tails between their legs.
That was how the woman survived.
Clap, clap!
The moment the wolves retreated, the sound of applause rang out.
Only then did the woman standing on the plateau realize that someone else was nearby.
“As expected of you, Yubel. Your instincts in the wild are still as sharp as ever.”
The woman called Yubel turned toward the source of the voice.
A plain-looking woman stood there, dressed simply, with freckles scattered across her face.
She smiled faintly at Yubel.
Rather than answer, Yubel narrowed her eyes and tilted her head.
The woman reacted with a disappointed, “Oh my.”
“My, have you already forgotten me after only a few years? I’m rather hurt, Yubel.”
“...!”
Yubel’s eyes began glowing silver once more.
The deaths the dire wolves had witnessed were now shown to the woman as well.
Yet even beneath that gaze, which stimulated the most primal instinct for survival, the freckled woman merely sighed.
“Showing me the Eyes of Death just because I put on a little disguise? Surely we aren’t so distant that you need to treat me like this.”
As though she had no other choice, the freckled woman grabbed hold of her own face.
Then she tore it off.
Beneath it was the smiling face of a woman who looked completely different—an exceedingly innocent and wholesome beauty.
The moment Yubel saw her true face, her wariness disappeared.
“Old.”
Only one syllable left her mouth.
“My, how cruel. Even if you didn’t recognize my face, shouldn’t you at least have known me by my voice?”
“Old.”
“How rude of you to think such a thing. This youthful Angrem has remained nineteen years old for decades.”
“Old. Old.”
Yubel narrowed her eyes and glared.
Angrem placed a hand against her face with an awkward expression.
She decided to leave the pointless banter there.
“I heard you escaped from the Empire.”
“Full.”
Yubel nodded.
“For someone who escaped, you handled it remarkably peacefully. I can’t believe you didn’t even get blood on your hands.”
Angrem asked as casually as though she were pointing out that Yubel had forgotten to put on clothes.
Yubel stared at her through half-lidded eyes before answering.
“Full.”
“Full?”
She pointed one index finger toward the sky.
Angrem followed it and saw the moon.
“Oh, now that you mention it, tonight is a full moon.”
The full moon was the moon of mercy.
On that night, even those who deserved death could not be killed.
It was a rule established by Sierra.
“Old.”
“It can’t be helped. I’ve served as Sierra’s dancer for more than twenty years, and I’ve been gazing at the moon and offering prayers for far longer than that.”
“Old. Old.”
“Don’t be angry. What will you do now? You must have felt terribly stifled after being imprisoned for three years. Do you have somewhere to go?”
“Full.”
“Oh, you do? Where?”
Yubel turned her head with a wistful expression.
She looked east.
“Ferda.”
“Oh my.”
Angrem was genuinely startled.
“I never expected you to mention that name. You must have taken quite a liking to him.”
Yubel said nothing more, seemingly embarrassed.
“There’s no need to be impatient. You’ll meet him soon enough.”
A crescent-shaped smile appeared on Angrem’s lips.
“After all, he is the only child of Sierra who still remains in this land.”
***
Ferda’s carriage arrived safely near the Principality.
Isabella met him at the village gates precisely on schedule.
“Congratulations on securing a legitimate basis for autonomy.”
“It was the natural outcome.”
“You call it natural, but you prepared extensively to achieve that outcome. I am simply pleased that all your efforts were not in vain.”
They said even a whale would dance when praised.
Ferda found the compliment rather pleasant.
Isabella pushed up her glasses.
“Please come inside. To celebrate your success, there is a gift I would like to show you.”
A gift.
The moment Ferda entered the village, he saw what she meant.
The central square had been left empty during the city-planning process.
Now an unfamiliar structure stood at its center.
“A fountain.”
“That is correct. The Tower Master of Iorga created this monument together with the tower’s craftsmen.”
A fountain made of white marble occupied the broad square.
Its outer basin was hexagonal, and at its center rose a structure resembling a palace tower.
Atop its pointed peak was the figure of a dragon.
Ferda immediately understood what it represented.
“It depicts Lady Valdrova during the subjugation campaign.”
“Yes. The Tower Master said that would be the most fitting subject for the sculpture.”
Songs about that scene had already spread widely among bards.
People who had witnessed it still sang hymns of praise, unable to forget what they had seen.
Ferda found it deeply satisfying.
Still, a separate concern crossed his mind.
Do we even have enough power to operate this?
A fountain was a symbol of prosperity, but the conditions required to maintain one were extremely demanding.
First, it needed a constant supply of magical power to pump the water.
Second, it required water pipes throughout the city and an enormous quantity of water sufficient to circulate across the entire settlement.
Third, all that water had to be clean enough to drink.
If any of those conditions were lacking or ignored, the fountain would instead become a grotesque monument to vanity and excess.
There was no way Iorga would have sent it here recklessly without considering those requirements.
Unless she sent it specifically to cause trouble for me...
If that was not the case, Ferda could infer one more thing.
“It seems you’ve succeeded in purifying large quantities of the water contained within the Demonic Lands.”
Isabella could not hide her surprise at his deduction.
“That was intended to be the Magic Tower’s second gift. I planned to explain it slowly, but you anticipated me.”
“It seems I spoiled the surprise.”
“Not at all. I am simply delighted that the future of the Principality now looks so bright.”
Isabella smiled, her face filled with pride.
“It would be best to show you the second gift as well, but we will postpone that for now.”
“Is there something urgent?”
“Her Highness the Princeps is waiting for you, Regent.”
To Ferda, nothing could have been more important.
After thoroughly washing himself and changing his clothes, Ferda headed for the recreation room.
A red-haired woman sat demurely across from the balcony.
Valdrova gazed at the sun sinking toward the west, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.
She had been staring absentmindedly into the distance, but upon sensing Ferda’s presence, she turned her head.
“Ah.”
She sprang to her feet and welcomed him.
“Welcome back, Mr. Ferda.”
“I’m sorry. My feelings got ahead of me. Did I perhaps... seem frivolous?”
Frivolous?
That word could not have suited her less.
“It is the greatest honor to have Your Highness personally welcome me.”
Ferda greeted her respectfully and took his seat.
Standing behind him like a folding screen, Luri filled his teacup with tea.
“How was it? My visit to the Arken Empire, I mean.”
Unable to contain her excitement, Valdrova approached Ferda with quick little steps.
“You worked very hard.”
Ferda was caught off guard by how close she came.
For a moment, he forgot what to say and merely looked down at her.
“My lady.”
Luri cut into the awkward atmosphere.
“It is improper for you to personally come out and welcome him.”
“Oh, right.”
Ferda recalled how Valdrova had appeared during his visit to the Empire and answered,
“You sent a representative.”
Valdrova nodded.
“Yes. I sent Penelope. I was told everything went perfectly, but... did she make any mistakes?”
“No. Penelope performed her role well enough. Thanks to her, the image of Princeps Valdrova will have been firmly imprinted in their minds.”
“Even though it wasn’t actually me?”
“It is common for rulers to employ doubles. They are often sent to battlefields or diplomatic occasions of lesser importance.”
It was especially common in situations where the risk of assassination was high and the expected benefit was small.
Of course, such precautions were unnecessary for Valdrova, whom assassinating would be harder than breaching an impregnable fortress, but Ferda chose not to mention that.
One thing was certain.
Penelope had fulfilled her role.
Her gait and the aura she projected were convincing.
Perhaps because she was accustomed to acting, anyone who had never met Valdrova before would easily have believed she was the real one.
“Were you satisfied too, Mr. Ferda?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Do you truly mean that?”
Ferda raised his head at her question.
“What do you mean?”
“Well... You look terribly disappointed.”
It felt as though a sudden skewer had pierced his chest.
Ferda instinctively touched his face, wondering whether he had frowned while speaking.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
He tried to brush it aside as though it were nothing.
But Valdrova did not let go of the lingering unease.
“I sent her for you, Mr. Ferda, not for anyone else. So I would like you to speak honestly with me.”
She was unusually persistent today.
He could have continued insisting that everything was fine and avoided the matter.
But what would happen if he did?
Would misunderstandings and distrust not simply accumulate between them?
That thought crossed his mind.
Ferda had to make a choice.
Would he lie in order to comfort her gently?
Or would he tell the truth, knowing it might hurt her?
“The truth is...”
Ferda made his choice.
“When I heard that Your Highness was coming... I looked forward to it a great deal.”
How had Ferda felt while waiting for her to stride toward him with dignity and greet her partner?
The most fitting comparison would have been a groom waiting for his bride at the altar.
That was how great his anticipation had been.
And so, his sense of betrayal had been equally intense.
The woman in the red dress pretending to be a queen had not been Valdrova.
She had been a third-rate demon.
“And when I heard that Your Highness had become friends with that demon... I felt somewhat uncomfortable.”
“Is that... a problem?”
Of course there were reasons it could be considered a problem.
That demon was a notorious troublemaker in Hestia.
It was fortunate that no one had yet discovered what she truly was. Had the truth come out, the entire Principality would have erupted over the revelation that a demon was living there.
Keeping someone like that as a friend would surely damage Valdrova’s reputation.
...Those are only excuses.
Penelope might have been notorious in Hestia, but she had never acted out of genuine malice.
Ferda also knew that the incidents she caused were too insignificant to seriously damage Valdrova’s authority.
Everything he felt came from jealousy.
He was jealous that Valdrova could show Penelope her face so comfortably.
He was jealous because Penelope seemed closer to her than he was.
But if he voiced the ugliness in his heart, he would only be placing another barrier before Valdrova just as she was beginning to step out into the world.
Ferda did not answer.
Valdrova did not press him.
An awkward silence settled between them.
“The heart is such a strange thing...”
Valdrova placed a hand over her chest.
“To tell you the truth... I could have gone to welcome you myself that day. Strangely, after showing Penelope my face, I began to think that perhaps showing it to others was no longer frightening.”
“Then...”
“But there was one person for whom that still wasn’t true.”
Valdrova slowly lifted her head and looked at Ferda.
“It feels strange.”
He could feel her eyes meeting his from behind the mask.
“You are the person closest to me, and the person with whom I should spend the most time. You are the one I wish to grow old beside... Yet I don’t understand why showing you my face is so difficult.”
“I can show it to other people, but I still wear a mask before you. The more I think about it, the more I wonder whether that is right.”
“You have done so much for me, yet I cannot do this one thing for you while doing it for others. I began to wonder whether that was terribly selfish of me.”
Ferda understood the emotion she was describing.
Had he not felt the same way?
Just as Valdrova could not bring herself to reveal her bare face to him, Ferda could not reveal his true nature to her.
The more one wanted to be seen favorably, the more artificial one became.
The stronger their feelings for each other, the more cautious they grew.
Why had he failed to understand something so simple?
In the end, Valdrova and he had been thinking exactly the same thing.
The jealousy and resentment swelling inside Ferda’s chest subsided.
As the muddy sediment sank, clear water rose to the surface, becoming a mirror that reflected his own face.
He hated the narrow-minded man he saw there.
Ferda reached out and carefully took Valdrova’s hand.
She looked slightly startled at first, but soon relaxed and clasped his hand tightly in return.
“Your Highness has shown such courage. Is there anything I can do for you in return?”
Silence followed.
But it was not uncomfortable.
The faint pulse in her fidgeting fingers told him that she was thinking.
“Th-Then...”
Valdrova made a shy request.
“Please... don’t call me ‘Your Highness.’”