I Married the Dragon I Killed
Chapter 83
Noble tea parties.
No matter the occasion, they were never modest affairs.
Even if it required some overextension, the venue was decorated as lavishly as possible on the day of the event. To the nobility, this was a display of the host’s wealth, history, and overall capability.
Consequently, the tea parties held in the Imperial Capital boasted a scale and grandeur on an entirely different level.
As it was a gathering place for the “young blood"—those destined to become future lords, knights, and heads of houses—the atmosphere was exceptionally vibrant.
Young lords and scions wore sharp uniforms adorned with their family crests, while young ladies and daughters of high noble houses donned colorful dresses that looked like inverted blossoms. Everyone arrived adorned with the burning desire to be the protagonist of the day.
Yet, despite such desperate desires, there existed a presence in the Empire so overwhelming that it reduced them all to mere blades of grass growing beside a magnificent flower.
Olivia Arken.
With blonde hair and blue eyes, she was a beauty of such legendary proportions that rumors claimed she looked stunning even when blinking away sleep in the morning. As the Emperor’s daughter, gifted with both talent and beauty, she was the bride every man throughout history would have coveted.
“Look, over there. It’s Lady Olivia.”
“So the rumors were true—she really did attend this tea party.”
“How can someone be so beautiful…?”
Her beauty drew gasps of admiration from men and women alike.
The young lords circled her periphery, casting sidelong glances while pretending to wander aimlessly. They knew all too well that, given their status, they didn’t dare strike up a conversation.
However, there were always those who firmly believed that a beauty could not be won without courage.
“I greet the Imperial Princess. As a Guardian of the Golden Dawn and a Blade of the Frontier, I would like to introduce myself—”
“I beg your pardon.”
The person who cut him off was a woman sitting beside Olivia.
She spoke with a bright, professional smile.
“We are currently in the middle of a gathering with other young ladies. Only members of the Golden Rose may join the conversation at this table.”
“Ah, yes…”
“Good day.”
In the end, the man retreated in embarrassment, unable to even utter his own name.
The women at the table giggled as they watched the loser’s retreating back.
“Another swarm of flies who don’t know their place.”
“Honestly. Even Duke Mercel’s son was rejected; for a mere Marcher Lord to have the audacity to speak to the Arken Princess is simply arrogant.”
They continued to tear him apart with light laughter.
Olivia tilted her head slightly while holding her teacup.
“Still, if he is someone who protects the frontier, should we not have at least exchanged greetings?”
“Oh, there’s no need for that at all!”
“Exactly! If you don’t keep the lower ranks in their place, they’ll start trying to climb over you!”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Yes! Of course!”
“Ah, truly, how can Princess Arken be so pure…?”
“I really want to protect her for the rest of my life!”
The young ladies swooned over her every gesture.
Watching them while feigning innocence, Olivia thought to herself:
Protect me? Give me a break.
Olivia knew exactly how beautiful she was. She knew how to use it, and simultaneously, she knew how to protect herself. These “bodyguards” surrounding her were actually people who admired and envied her in equal measure.
Because the men only have eyes for me.
No matter how many expensive jewels they wore or how many famous designers crafted their clothes, men wouldn’t spare them a glance in the face of her overwhelming presence. To those wearing luxury goods, her very existence was an eyesore.
Being haughty and shining alone was a recipe for inviting jealousy and spite.
Olivia knew how to handle them.
She chose to surround herself with those who envied her. Specifically, in the form of an elite social club called the ‘Golden Rose.’
It was a form of perfect symbiosis.
I can protect myself without saying a single word, and these girls acting as my shield get the chance to approach the men they like.
Olivia kept her “flower” safe, while her guards screened and snatched up the potential grooms fluttering toward it. Once a romance began, they had to leave the Golden Rose, but there were always others to fill the vacancy. It was a social structure where loyalty only increased as it circulated.
“As expected of one carrying the Golden Blood, you are perfect in every way!”
The Golden Blood.
It was a term born from the belief that the Arken lineage possessed the inherent qualities required of a sovereign.
Olivia loathed that term.
If they all shared the same Golden Blood, why was she rolling around in this flower bed instead of reaching for political power?
“Yes, well, I suppose so,” Olivia replied, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
The atmosphere turned chilly.
Because of her lukewarm response, the gazes of the young ladies turned sharp and fierce.
“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, Princess! I didn’t mean to offend you…”
“My, even if the Lady of House Horns didn’t intend it, it certainly sounded unpleasant to us.”
“Indeed. How could you bring up such a topic in a place like this?”
The young ladies chimed in, ganging up on her. The Lady of House Horns began to fumble and panic. It was a calculated move to bite at a moment of weakness and ostracize her.
Snakes, the lot of them.
While harboring disgust for them, Olivia responded with effortless grace.
“Oh, why is everyone acting like this?”
“I felt as though I had been disrespectful to the Arken Princess…”
“How could that be? I was simply lost in thought for a moment. I should be the one to apologize, for failing to focus on all of you in a setting like this…”
Olivia’s blue eyes grew moist and glistening.
Her “entourage” was startled and scrambled to smooth things over.
“No! Not at all!”
“A pensive Lady Olivia is simply stunning. You looked just like a painting.”
The women laughed it off. Internally, they were undoubtedly cursing her for acting like a saint.
Let them talk.
A mask worn long enough eventually becomes one’s true face.
Someone changed the heavy atmosphere by pivoting to a different topic.
“More importantly, have you all heard?”
“Heard what?”
“The news about Regent Ferda.”
Olivia’s hand paused for a fraction of a second at that name.
“I heard he performed quite the feat in Halim recently.”
“Oh, Halim… you mean that profane land?”
“I heard women there wear such scandalous clothes to seduce men…”
“Hoho, what on earth are you imagining! It wasn’t like that! There was an exhibition in Escoleia.”
“Was it just an exhibition? I heard men who go to Halim lose their very souls…”
True to the nature of such gossip, the conversation threatened to veer off into trivialities.
“And there,” Olivia spoke up.
Despite having attended many such tea parties, it was rare for her to engage when the topic turned to men.
“What happened there?”
“Pardon? Ah, well, a monster rift opened and creatures poured out. Seven wolf-like monsters, apparently.”
“My, seven of them?”
“He supposedly played a major role, and get this—not a single person died!”
“Is that so?”
“Ohhh…”
The young ladies let out lukewarm exclamations, blinking blankly. It was a story they didn’t care about, and they didn’t understand why it was significant.
But Olivia was different.
For there to be zero casualties during a surprise attack… that is nothing short of a miracle.
She had a deep interest in tactics and strategy. With the thought that she might one day command an army, she had studied various historical records to gain a feel for military leadership and had consistently researched the enemies she might face.
She knew exactly how monumental Ferda’s achievement was.
Did he use black magic?
The lost Shadow Magic Book of Barbatos flickered through her mind. During his visit to the Imperial Capital, it was reported that the seal had loosened after a fierce battle with investigators, allowing the book to vanish.
That was only how it was reported because Olivia had used her influence to make it so; she didn’t know the actual truth.
A mystery should remain a mystery.
That was the role Olivia played for the sake of the greater good.
“I heard rumors that he uses black magic.”
As she was thinking this, someone voiced that very thought.
Looking over, it was the Lady of House Horns, the one who had misspoken earlier. As the gossip took hold, everyone leaned in with interest.
“Black magic?”
“Yes. It happened so suddenly, yet Regent Ferda reacted alone and pierced the head of the creature emerging from the rift.”
“Isn’t it a bit of a stretch to call it black magic just because of his reaction speed?”
“The higher-ups are saying that the Regent himself might have caused the monster rift. That he staged it all just to look good in Halim.”
The easily swayed young ladies nodded as if that made sense.
Watching their reactions, Olivia felt a surge of internal revulsion.
“What do you think, Princess?”
The Lady of House Horns passed the baton to her.
Olivia blinked her innocent eyes.
“My Lady.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“Regardless of the circumstances, I believe it is wrong to brand someone who saved the people without major casualties as a black mage.”
“Pardon? Oh, well…”
The Lady of House Horns began to stammer once more. The atmosphere, which had been ready to tear into the gossip, flipped in an instant.
“Indeed. How thoughtless of you.”
“To think a noble lady would spread such malice about a hero… should we not demand proper accountability for this?”
The group showed even more blatant hostility than when they had first ganged up on her. There would be no recovering from this. She was effectively exiled from the Golden Rose and would spend the rest of her life as an outcast in social circles.
I bear no ill will.
She had dug her own grave; she would have to lie in it.
Regardless, the Regent is proceeding smoothly with everything.
Since the declaration of the conquest of the Demonic Land, he had gained the support of Iorga and even performed heroically in Halim. No one could block the path of this hero now. He would undoubtedly succeed in creating a second capital.
I need to do something as well…
In contrast, Olivia had made no progress.
To establish her power within the Empire, she needed to become a Saint. However, all she did was maintain her figure, engage in useless chatter with noble girls, and fill her head with knowledge of empty formalities she didn’t care about.
The taste of tea, how certain biscuits were baked—being a Princess was stifling.
This is so far removed from becoming a Saint.
Even monks who dedicate their entire lives to service often fail to become Saints or Holy Ones; how could it be possible while living such a luxurious life?
But I must do it.
If I can just become a Saint, I will finally truly possess that damn Golden Blood as well.
Upon his return, Ferda first checked the progress of the village construction.
The landscape before him differed from the future he had envisioned through Isabella’s reports.
“Progress has been significant.”
He had been away for about three weeks, and the once chaotic atmosphere had been somewhat settled, with several buildings already standing. Enough space had been created to dismantle all the tents that had served as temporary shelters.
“Indeed. It has exceeded our expectations.”
“How much ahead of schedule are we?”
“Two months.”
“That’s more than just ‘exceeding expectations.’”
The blue-haired dragon spawn, Administrator Isabella, pushed up her glasses. While such a statement would usually sting the pride of an Aspect of Knowledge, Isabella explained calmly.
“The speed of the existing laborers was within parameters. Of course, labor turnover and supply are factors to consider, but this was an unforeseen variable—like a bolt from the blue.”
Isabella wasn’t simply trying to save face. Ferda knew this, so he asked her.
“What is this variable?”
“They call him the Armored Knight.”
“An Armored Knight?”
Isabella nodded.
“Yes. He appears to be a Wandering Knight, but the workers call him the Armored Knight, perhaps because he has taken a vow of silence.”
“Hmm…”
Ferda looked at the recorded personal details and the payment ledger. The personal information was merely the bare minimum that could be gathered from outward appearance.
Looking at it, Ferda realized something.
“It’s not a vow of silence.”
“Is that so?”
“Normally, someone under a vow of silence carries a plaque with their name and affiliation. It signifies that even if they do not communicate, they will still identify themselves.”
Having come from a knightly family, Ferda knew this well. A person under such a vow might live as a wanderer, but performing manual labor at a construction site didn’t fit.
Was he being paid an exorbitant amount? Ferda checked the ledger.
“He is receiving more than twenty times the wages of the other workers.”
He was being paid 2 silver coins, worth 200 copper coins.
However, Ferda frowned.
“That’s too little.”
Isabella nodded in agreement.
“In truth, he is a talent for whom even 30 silver coins would be insufficient.”
“Then why aren’t we paying him more?”
“He seemed content. As if he found the idea of receiving money strange, he refused to accept anything more than 2 silver coins. Why should we insist on paying more if he won’t take it?”
“Hmm…”
Considering the typical salary and value of a knight, what worth did 2 silver coins have? It was exploitation to the point where an employee would be justified in putting a sword to the employer’s throat. To work at a construction site that bruised one’s pride while accepting such low wages suggested a character greater than most saints.
Or he has a secret of that magnitude.
A dark past, or perhaps he had killed someone. But if he were hiding a secret, his refusal to take more than 2 silver coins became even more puzzling.
“In what way exactly is he helpful? Does he have knowledge of construction methods?”
“No. He is a complete novice with no basic knowledge of construction, but he handles tasks that are easily solved with raw strength, allowing the buildings to be completed far ahead of schedule.”
Superhuman strength.
Hearing that, a certain individual came to Ferda’s mind.
“That Armored Knight.”
“Yes.”
“Did his armor look suffocatingly thick and heavy?”
Isabella thought for a moment before answering.
“No. He was wearing a half-plate, much like typical Wandering Knights.”
“I see.”
Ferda had suspected it might be Alberto, the Walking Fortress. Since there were no eyewitness accounts of him yet, it seemed he moved quite stealthily despite his massive bulk.
Strength alone…
A man who had accelerated the schedule by two months through pure power.
“If you are concerned, shall I launch an investigation?”
Ferda shook his head at Isabella’s suggestion.
“No, leave him be for now. There’s no need to make him flee by showing signs of an investigation.”
Only a fool would kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.
“However, his value cannot be ignored. Find a way to ensure we can keep utilizing him.”
“A wise decision.”
If there is a talent helpful to the Regency, he recruits them. If recruitment is impossible, he makes it so they have no choice but to be recruited.
And if even that fails, I’ll drain every drop of utility from him.
He would turn him into nourishment for this rising city without leaving a single drop behind. That was the path for this village being built for Valdrova.
“Come to think of it,” Isabella asked Ferda.
“What will you name the city?”
“Is the name Valdrova not sufficient?”
Isabella’s tone dropped.
“That is already the name of the castle and the title of the Regency. If it is used too casually, its dignity will naturally erode.”
“Would that not serve a purpose?”
“Even as an Iorga spawn, I cannot allow that. I must firmly decline that proposal, so I ask for your understanding.”
Ferda decided to give up on that idea after hearing her words. For her, who usually respected the Regent’s wishes, to use the word “firmly” meant this matter held great significance among dragons.
“Then we must choose a new name.”
“I have already called for suggestions.”
As if she had been waiting for this, Isabella pulled a parchment from her folder and handed it to Ferda.
“Many good names were mentioned, but it has been narrowed down to two. Diarine, meaning the frontline against demons, or Alterios, meaning the light that shines in the darkness. What do you think?”
Diarine and Alterios.
“Diarine sounds bleak, and Alterios sounds too closely linked to the Alte faith.”
“It is intended to target that demographic. Since nine-tenths of the Empire are Alte believers, it wouldn’t be a bad choice.”
It was a strategy to attract settlers. While it had strategic advantages, Ferda didn’t want to go that route. His experiences with the Alte faith had been unpleasant more than once.
The New Church of Alte was merciless toward heretics. When he manifested the Red Circle and his affinity was revealed as darkness during the aptitude test, they had been desperate to kill him. He preferred a name that didn’t evoke the Alte faith at all.
Was there a better name?
Suddenly, Ferda recalled something from the past.
“What was the name of the project I was working on back then to save my fiancée?”
“Do you mean Project: Hestia?”
“Hestia…”
It was the name of a woman from ancient times who guarded the hearth fire. It was rarely used now, a figure barely mentioned even in history classes.
The woman who guards the fire.
Not bad.
“How about Hestia?”
“I personally prefer something heavier and more solemn… but a lively name isn’t as bad as I thought. I shall proceed with that.”
Ferda repeated the name several times to himself.
Hestia, Hestia…
It rolled off the tongue well, and he liked the meaning.
Valdrova was the master of power and fire. This place would be a city and a bastion for those who guard the fire.
Which means I’ll have to squeeze every bit of labor out of that Armored Knight.
He would do as much as possible before the man changed his mind. That was Ferda’s resolve.
