Chapter 20
20. Christina’s Return2021.11.07.
“It’s Tristan, my lady.”
There were no further greetings.
“…….”
What a relief. Reina felt reassured instead. Since they both knew the truth, there was no need for pointless words.
“…….”
Just as she relaxed, Arthur made a blunt remark.
“ Blunt, isn’t he.”
Reina stared at Arthur with wide eyes. Tristan didn’t so much as blink as he replied.
“That’s just how I am.”
Arthur grinned and made a demand.
“Say it longer this time.”
Tristan let out a short, silent sigh and looked at Reina again.
“I am Tristan Gottfried, aide-de-camp to His Excellency Arthur Sildin Roas Julius and an honorable knight of Flamberge. I’m in my thirties. I’m married, with a wife who just turned thirty and a five-year-old son. For my merits in this war, I’ve been made a baron, and as for any peculiarities, I’m known for being blunt.”
“…….”
Tristan bowed once more and moved to kiss the back of Reina’s hand, but Arthur stopped him.
“You don’t need to do that again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Arthur led Reina away as her escort. She hurried to follow. * * * Knock knock. Tristan rapped on the door.
“…….”
The door opened, and an elegant middle-aged woman emerged. She took one look at Tristan and Arthur, then curtsied. She already seemed to know who they were.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sir Arthur.”
Arthur removed his hat and offered a polite bow, pausing just a moment for propriety.
“It’s an honor to meet you, madam. I’m sorry to impose on you like this.”
A faint smile flickered across the middle-aged woman’s lips, then vanished. Or rather, it was more like she’d tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. Arthur met her gaze in silence for a moment before speaking.
“No matter how much we cherished him, we could never fully comprehend your grief, but we wanted to offer our condolences.”
Standing a little ways back, Reina realized the purpose of this visit and held her breath. Arthur continued.
“Your son was an excellent knight and a comrade I could trust with my back. Even in the toughest situations, he always cracked jokes to make us laugh. …He remains one of the finest friends in my heart even now.”
A quiet breeze stirred. Arthur, hat pressed to his chest, continued steadily.
“Losing him was a tremendous loss and pain for us. No one among us doubts that God cherished him and called him early. He was the finest knight to the end, and honorable. I hope that fact brings you even a small measure of comfort. …I’m sorry.”
The woman gazing at Arthur soon bowed her head, tears falling.
“……Thank you.”
* * * Sometimes an entire large family with many children would come out, and sometimes just a single person. Sometimes it was a woman Reina’s age. Sometimes it was a child, eyes sparkling with excitement at Arthur’s arrival, tugging at their mother’s hand. Reina couldn’t hold back her tears. Some bereaved families appeared in their cleanest, most formal attire, while others came out disheveled and staggering. Some accepted their sorrow with quiet dignity, while others couldn’t overcome their grief and wept or collapsed entirely. Some simply stared at Arthur in silence, saying nothing. Each time, Arthur offered condolences tailored to their fallen comrade, recounting personal stories one by one. Every time Reina heard them, she wept from where she stood behind him. Arthur and Tristan didn’t shed a tear, yet here she was crying over someone she’d never even known—she tried desperately to hold back, thinking it unseemly and embarrassing. * * * Shouldn’t you wait in the carriage? Arthur suggested to Reina, whose eyes had reddened. Clutching the handkerchief Tristan had offered her, she shook her head. And so, every time, she stepped down from the carriage and stood behind him, fighting back tears. Until the sun set, twilight fell, and finally, under a star-filled night sky, the day’s duties came to an end. * * * Julius Marquis Mansion. 2 a.m.
“…….”
After sampling the taste of “Arthur Special,” the marquis and his wife’s opinion of Arthur had done a complete 180 in just two days. Arthur wasn’t arrogant. He simply knew his own worth well. He wasn’t some aimless fool, either. He knew how to steer negotiations to his advantage. They fell silent, gazing at the mountain of gifts piled up before them and the servants still scrambling to transport them after two full days. Amid the ever-growing heaps that showed no sign of diminishing, a massive grand piano crafted by the era’s most renowned artisan and a gigantic pedal harp praised by some famous critic were being carefully wheeled in one after another. Even with the utmost caution, the grand piano’s sheer size made it brush perilously against the gift piles. At the head butler’s startled shout, servants rushed over, grabbing the teetering items and rearranging others to clear a path for the piano. They had never experienced a deluge of gifts like this—not even at Julius’s coming-of-age ceremony or wedding.
“…….”
Having endured a grueling schedule from dawn till dusk and finally snatched a brief rest, the marquis and his wife stood before the mansion’s main building, looking down at the gifts crammed into the front garden. From the top of the steps, they surveyed the piles that hadn’t even made it inside the mansion. The marquis mulled over the day’s hectic itinerary and the undercurrents of negotiation woven through it. It was unbelievably satisfying. Even for Julius, who had been a noble since birth and the empire’s richest man, this level of unprecedented deference was a first. The empire’s most prominent merchant guilds and haughty nobles had come bearing gifts, humbly prostrating themselves. It was shocking and impressive that so many came with no conditions attached—not even a hope of an audience—just terse cards reading 「Congratulations. We wish you prosperity.」 or 「Congratulations. With respect and affection.」 To send gifts this extravagant and offer nothing more? If it were me, I wouldn’t spend such a fortune on a bribe just to preen without gaining anything in return. Magnificent gifts kept arriving in an endless stream. He ordered Head Butler Jim to meticulously record the sender of every gift and message, along with their family names, then lost himself in the monumental sight of the accumulating treasures.
‘So… that’s what this is like. Indeed….’
Marquis Julius was utterly intoxicated by the flavor of honor and power that “Arthur” had brought him. It felt like a whole new world had opened up—one he’d never known before. There was a realm I didn’t know about. To only discover it now. What impressed Antonio Julius most was that people, who had once treated them as “tricky but vital trading partners who somehow needed to be maneuvered into favorable terms,” now regarded them as “the most dignified nobles and the powerhouses who deserved utmost respect.” Attitudes toward them had undeniably shifted. Antonio Julius realized something. The “empire’s foremost tycoon” wasn’t the social pinnacle. One needed to be a “wealthy, honorable elector and formidable power broker” for that. Having ascended to that position, Julius’s perspective on power expanded to entirely new horizons. For the first time, he keenly felt why one must pursue honor and power even at the cost of meaningless sums of money. Recalling how his late father, former Marquis Ronald Julius, had yearned for it his whole life, Antonio Julius immersed himself in wistful regret, gazing at the moonlit feast of bribes.
‘Father, I’ve finally done it.’
Amid his newfound revelation and quiet emotion, the marquis recalled the words of his mother, the dowager marchioness, who used to scold his deceased father.
「Honor and power are another form of currency that lets you buy what money can’t.」
‘Mother, I’ve finally come to truly understand your words…!’
“How should we make it up to Arthur?”
The marchioness’s curt voice snapped him from his reverie.
“…….”
Did she have no sense of sentiment at all? Even before this beautiful sight, she showed no stirring of emotion and muttered gravely instead.
“……What could Arthur possibly want from us?”
Though he was deeply immersed for once and her interruption was disappointing, the marquis—his heart unusually magnanimous—didn’t snap at her like a petty man. He puffed up with pride instead.
“Give him whatever he wants. What couldn’t we do? We’re ‘Julius,’ after all.”
“We have to know what he wants to give it to him.”
The marquis frowned and sighed. He was tired of his wife’s nagging. He disapproved of how she failed to maintain the dignity befitting their elevated status.
“First, we need to schedule time with Arthur.”
See when he has an opening in our schedule…
“…….”
Come to think of it, they’d been so focused on external guests that they’d neglected the truly important Arthur. A son-in-law was a guest for a hundred years, after all. Of course, Arthur probably just wanted to rest deeply, so considering his discomfort at their attention had been thoughtful. He wouldn’t take it as neglect, surely? Stroking his chin, Julius rolled his eyes. Regardless, with the family’s remarkable achievement largely thanks to their son-in-law, it was only right to take extra care not to let him feel slighted.
“Is our son-in-law resting well enough? Is the head chef seeing to his meals? The full VIP treatment with everything we can….”
The marchioness stared at him in disbelief, her face a mask of absurdity.
“You… you haven’t forgotten who’s by Arthur’s side right now, have you?”
Irritation laced her voice. The marquis’s mood soured, his expression hardening.
‘Christina. That ill-tempered, finicky daughter of ours is always causing trouble….’
If she’d just obediently followed my advice five years ago, none of this would’ve happened. He’d already erased from memory how she herself had been gleefully plotting to sell off their daughter twice over as he coldly shot back.
“I know. But what can we do? If that’s what Arthur wants, we’ll have to take her as a concubine. Isn’t she old enough now to learn that she has to take responsibility for her mistakes? What, can’t she handle even this much from the mess I made? Well, at least she’s got some sense despite her lack of maturity!”
The marquis spoke irritably.
“Who the hell does she take after to be so impossible to deal with? She doesn’t even think about cleaning up her own mess! What the hell is she doing?!”
“I’ve cooled my head and come back.”
A soft voice suddenly interjected from another direction. The marquis and his wife whipped their heads around, eyes widening.
There stood their daughter—the very one they’d just been cursing—smiling leisurely in a pristine white dress. As if she’d strolled along a beach, she held a white lace parasol that didn’t suit the moonlit night, and her white bonnet was adorned with jewels and feathers. With a graceful flick, she swept her hair behind her ear, then lightly twirled and folded the parasol that had rested on her shoulder.
“Christina!”
The marchioness hurried down the steps. Two or three handsome footmen followed behind her, carrying luggage in both hands. Christina, leading the way, smiled brightly from beneath her bonnet.
“It’s about time I went to apologize. So, how’s Arthur’s mood? Is Reina soothing him well?”
The marquis and his wife looked down at their daughter in shock. Folding her parasol and tilting her head, she brushed the golden locks that had fallen forward back over her shoulder and smiled chillingly.
“I left without even being able to tell my husband to take good care of him.”
