"Your Highness, no, you can't do this — I firmly oppose this decision!" Fatty jumped to his feet.
Fatty had come to
Because Lorist had said he had decided to get married — to take Princess Sylvia as his wife — and that he wanted Fatty to be in charge of preparing a grand wedding ceremony, set for six months from now. Lorist estimated that half a year should be enough time for Sylvia to heal the wounds in her heart and for her body to recover its health, rather than remaining as gaunt as she was now. But he never expected that the very first person he confided in would object.
"Why? Before, you were all in favor of it, weren't you?" Lorist was somewhat annoyed.
"Your Highness, that was then and this is now. The Fiesabrun Family is our enemy. I believe Princess Sylvia has the character and bearing to be a worthy Duchess of the
Lorist shook his head. "This is a private matter. I will not take any other woman as my wife besides her. Whether you lot accept it or not has nothing to do with me. My decision is made — do as I say."
"Absolutely not!" Fatty grew desperate. "A Grand Duke has no private matters! Your Highness, you don't only represent yourself — you represent the entire Norton Family, over 1.6 million subjects in the Northland, and us loyal Family Knights! You must think of the Norton Family's reputation!"
"Oh, is that so? So it turns out I represent all of that — how come nobody told me? Did anyone ask if they wanted to be represented by me?" Lorist's face darkened. "So I need your permission — you loyal Family Knights — to get married and take a wife? If you object, I can't be with the person I love? What do you take me for? A puppet pushed to the front, with everything decided by you lot?"
"Uh…" Only now did Fatty realize that in his haste, he had misspoken. "Your Highness, you know I merely misspoke — that is absolutely not what I meant. No one dares treat you as a puppet. You are the rightful Grand Duke of the Northland, and that is a fact everyone acknowledges. What I object to is your decision to marry Princess Sylvia. The reason we were in favor before was that the Fiesabrun Family was not yet our enemy, and a marriage alliance between you and Princess Sylvia would have brought our family a powerful new ally.
Now the Fiesabrun Family not only had become our family's enemy, but had also suffered such a crushing defeat at our hands — they had become the mortal enemy of our Norton Family. Most importantly, the Fiesabrun Family's armed forces had been soundly beaten by ours, pinned down within their own family territories. Our soldiers were mocking and ridiculing them, nobody took them seriously anymore, and because of the Hunting Horse Corps's disastrous defeat at the Pasture Plains Province, we were even preparing a campaign of vengeance… At a time like this, Your Highness, you decide to take the Fiesabrun Family's Princess Sylvia as your wife. Is that really appropriate?
Your Highness, think of the rumors circulating throughout the family territories — that you raised your banner against the Fiesabrun Family in a fit of fury because the Grand Duke of Fiesabrun rejected your marriage proposal to Princess Sylvia. Think of how Duke Kenmaes jokingly said that the three families' armed forces all became enemies of the Grand Duke of Fiesabrun just to help you win a wife. If you marry Princess Sylvia now, you'll be confirming every last one of those rumors. How will the families of the family martyrs who sacrificed their lives feel about that? Did their loved ones die a heroic death so you could take a wife?
Once Princess Sylvia becomes the Duchess of our Norton Family, how are we Family Knights and soldiers supposed to treat the Fiesabrun Family? As in-laws? If the Fiesabrun armed forces attack us again, I suspect our soldiers won't even know whether they should pick up their weapons and fight back. Your Highness, this reckless decision of yours will throw the entire family into chaos. I believe no one in the family will support what you've decided."
"Nobody is going to be as foolish as you describe — letting enemies come right up to them without knowing to fight back…" Lorist said in an ill-humored tone. "Even if I marry Sylvia, so what? The fact that the Fiesabrun Family is our enemy hasn't changed."
Well, Fatty's righteous and impassioned argument did have merit — it was something Lorist hadn't considered. As the head of the Northland's most powerful family, he really did have to account for these kinds of effects. But Lorist's mind was made up, and he had no intention of changing his heart. He would give Princess Sylvia, who loved him so deeply, a refuge — a perfect home.
"You don't understand. The Grand Duke of Fiesabrun sent Sylvia to our family on a diplomatic mission — that was only a pretext. He told Sylvia she needn't come back. Didn't you notice that this time Sylvia came without even bringing guards? Just her two handmaids. And the person meant to conduct negotiations was someone else entirely. Do you understand what that means? That old man is mocking our love, and so I must give Sylvia an answer. I will marry her as my wife," Lorist insisted.
Make money.
Back then, Fatty — not yet ten years old — had been saving up copper coins one at a time to buy that little clown puppet. Day after day passed, and by the time Fatty finally had enough money to go buy it, he discovered the general store owner was having a clearance sale — word was he was closing up shop and returning to his hometown. When young Fatty walked in, the shopkeeper smiled and said, "Still want to buy that clown puppet? Don't worry about it, I'll just give it to you. It's not worth anything anyway — consider it a parting gift."
That was the most vivid memory Fatty carried. The thing he had dreamed of night and day was something another person regarded as disposable trash. Looking at the small pouch of copper coins he had labored three or four months to earn, then at the clown puppet the shopkeeper had tossed to him without a care in the world — the way Fatty felt in that moment was beyond description. When he got home, he threw the clown puppet into a corner and never once played with it again.
Now the situation Lorist found himself in was much the same as Fatty's childhood — perhaps even more bitter. The Grand Duke of Fiesabrun was offering Princess Sylvia to Lorist as a gift. On the surface it looked like the Fiesabrun Family was bowing its head in defeat: "Look, wasn't it all because of her that you started the war? The rumors all say so. Fine, we Fiesabrun Family admit defeat and send her to you — just spare our family." But in reality, the Grand Duke of Fiesabrun hadn't given a moment's thought to the feelings of the two people involved. Or, just as Lorist had said, he was humiliating them both. "You two want to be together? Fine. No need for proposals, no need to pay any great price. I'll hand Princess Sylvia over to you — her life and death are in your hands. Are you satisfied now that you're together?"
"Your Highness, since that's the case, you two could simply be together for now. Once things have settled down after a few years, we can hold a wedding for you. There's no need to invite too many people — we keep the impact to a minimum. How does that sound? Anyway, you can already make Princess Sylvia the mistress of the Norton Family; she just won't have the title for the time being." Fatty thought it over and put forward a suggestion. In his view, this was the best solution available right now.
"Absolutely not..." Lorist rejected the suggestion without a moment's hesitation. "I can't simply live with Sylvia like that — how would that be any different from taking her as a concubine? I know you're thinking of the family's interests, but Baron Shrade, have you considered how Sylvia feels about all this? Being abandoned by her family has already caused her tremendous pain. If I treated her that way, she really would become nothing more than a gift handed over. I must give her a grand wedding — only then will I be worthy of her love for me."
"At the same time, I'll slap that old fool Grand Duke Fiesabrun right across the face. Does he really think I'd treat Sylvia like a slave? I will make Sylvia my bride openly and aboveboard — the mistress of the Norton Family, the Duchess of Northland. I'll make everyone envy her and make the Fiesabrun Family regret everything they've done. I believe in Sylvia. Once she becomes my bride, she'll forget the name Fiesabrun entirely. From then on, she'll take pride only in the great name of Norton..."
"B-But, Your Highness, how are we supposed to come up with an explanation — how do we justify this to the family's armed soldiers..."
"That's simple enough. I'll express my gratitude to every soldier in our family's forces. I'll thank them for their heroic fighting that finally forced the Fiesabrun Family to surrender and present Princess Sylvia to us, uniting two lovers at last. All of this is thanks to the great victory won by our soldiers..."
Lorist was deliberately cementing the rumor that he had waged war to conquer the Iberian Kingdom and attack the Fiesabrun Family all for the sake of Princess Sylvia. By turning a passive position into an active one, he effectively concealed the two families' true struggle for dominance over the northeast region behind this romantically charged justification. Believers of gossip would far prefer to spread this story of a war fought for love.
"Our family's soldiers will be proud of this legendary excuse. When they're old, they can sit at the drinking table and boast to their grandchildren: 'Back in the day, we helped the Duke of Northland snatch his bride — we smashed the Fiesabrun Family to bits, utterly crushed them, until they had no choice but to hand over the beautiful Princess Sylvia so she and the Duke of Northland could finally be united as husband and wife, two lovers finding their happy ending...' That way, the Fiesabrun Family becomes the villain of the story. Hahaha, that's a pretty good idea."
"Oh, right — our family has already captured the Gold Ridge gold mine and seized gold artifacts worth over two million gold ferdins. I think we can use that gold to mint a batch of commemorative gold medals, engraved with both my name and Sylvia's, and beneath that the words 'two lovers united at last.' Then we distribute them as keepsakes to every soldier who participated in the Iberian Kingdom campaign. It doesn't matter whether they're from our Norton Family or one of the three allied families — anyone who took part gets one. I don't believe a single soldier would have any complaints about having fought to help me win my bride."
Lorist leaned back triumphantly and propped his feet up on the desk, reveling in the excuse he had come up with.
"Your Highness, isn't this a bit... shameless?" Fatty didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Those who would achieve great things must not be bothered by trifles," Lorist replied lazily, propping his feet up on the desk and leaning back in his chair until he actually felt like falling asleep. It made sense, really — he had sat by Sylvia's bedside keeping her company all through the night, so being drowsy was only natural.
"Baron Shrade, the wedding preparations will be on your shoulders. Put together a budget sheet and a wedding itinerary for me. We still have half a year — aim for around November. And don't forget the guest list." Lorist thought for a moment, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "I want this to be a grand wedding. Understood? If there's nothing else, go ahead and get some rest... I think I'll catch a nap..."
"Hey, wait — I came here on actual business. All these documents need your signature, and they're urgently needed. And yet I got dragged into this wedding talk for ages... Schwade, get His Highness a basin of cold water to wash his face and wake up! Schwade! Schwade! Where is he?" Fatty Shrade called out for a long time with no response.
"Stop calling — he's not here. He probably went to North Sea City to pick up his junior brother." Lorist remembered what he had told Schwade the night before. "Also, Baron Shrade, what I said about the wedding wasn't idle chatter — that was serious business."
"I know, I know. I'll handle it properly for you, so don't worry about it. Now sign these documents first. Go splash some water on your face, and I'll go find someone to bring a basin." Fatty Shrade stepped out and asked a guard to fetch a basin of cold water.
"You said something about Schwade going to North Sea City to pick up his junior brother — what's that about?" A short while later, Shrade returned with a basin of cold water for Lorist to wash his face.
"Did you forget that I once mentioned taking Samwood's eldest son as my disciple? The boy is sixteen now and has awakened his fighting spirit, so Samwood sent me a letter — all roundabout hints not to forget the promise I made back then. I sent Schwade to North Sea City to bring the boy over. He'll serve as my attendant for now, and we'll see whether he has what it takes." Lorist dunked his entire face into the basin of cold water, chasing away the drowsiness and clearing his head.
"I think you mentioned it once before. Isn't Samwood's eldest son that big oaf who's always trailing after him?" Fatty Shrade still had a vague recollection of the large young man who used to accompany Samwood whenever he came to report on the navy's affairs.
"That's the one." Lorist picked up the thick stack of documents Fatty had brought and asked, "What's all this? What's so urgent that you brought this many?"
"They're documents related to reorganizing and expanding the Imperial Guard Corps — formation charts, equipment allocations, garrison logistics and supply — all needing your review and signature before they can be acted on. Plus, the commanders for the four Imperial Guard Corps need to be designated by you..."
This time, the Imperial Guard Corps would be reorganized into four corps, with four battalions forming a regiment and four regiments forming a corps. Each corps would have a full strength of 48,000 men. The newly recruited Imperial Guard soldiers would come from the more than 100,000 prisoners of war from the former Madras Grand Duchy. These prisoners had already endured over two years of hard labor, becoming the primary workforce for building the water conservancy and transportation infrastructure of Drelik Province, and would gain their freedom by the end of the year. Following the tradition of arming the Norton Family, it was customary to recruit soldiers from these soon-to-be-freed laborers.
"Here's what we'll do. Recall Baron Farreia and Baron Beruneck and have them take charge of the Imperial Guard Corps reorganization. You should continue to focus on the preparations for the wedding," Lorist said as he signed the documents.
"Alright. As you wish, Your Highness." Fatty Shrade spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders in helpless resignation.
...(To be continued.)