Chapter 12: The Boisterous King’s Visit, and My “Energy-Saving” Audience
Doooooon!!
Rather than opening, the door sounded like it had exploded.
I nearly dropped the copy of Observations of the Eastern Empire I had been reading.
The air of the once-quiet library trembled violently.
What was that.
An earthquake.
Or had Kyle-sama thrown another tantrum.
Standing at the entrance was a single man.
He had to be close to two meters tall.
His head looked like it might smash into the doorframe.
He wore a luxurious royal mantle, but beneath it was a body as solid as rock.
Golden hair like a lion’s mane.
And a booming baritone voice that echoed through every corner of the room.
“Heyyy!
Are you in here!?
The ‘Witch of the North Tower’ who turned my little brother into putty!”
…Who are you calling a witch.
And you are way too loud.
Does he even understand that this is a library.
I rubbed the crease between my brows.
I had seen him in portraits before.
This mountain of muscle was none other than King Louis Lutetia himself.
He looked nothing like his younger brother, Claude-sama.
If Claude-sama was the moon, this man was the midsummer sun.
The kind of sun that gives you heatstroke just from standing under it.
The king strode into the room and spotted me sitting on the sofa.
“Hm!
So it’s you!
The woman Claude chose!”
He planted himself in front of me and glared down with overwhelming pressure.
A normal young lady would have fainted or prostrated herself on the spot.
But I am Eliana.
And this was my break time.
Standing up would be a waste of calories.
I stayed seated and raised my index finger to my lips.
“…Shhh.”
“Huh?”
“Your Majesty.
This is a library.
Please keep your voice down.
You will startle the books.”
“…What?”
The king’s eyes went wide.
He clearly had not expected to be scolded the moment he barged in.
“And there is no witch here.
Just a humble caretaker.”
I slipped a bookmark into my book and finally looked up.
My expression did not change.
Strictly business.
“Welcome, but we have no reservations today, so I would normally ask you to leave.
However, it looks like the door might not survive that, so I will let it go.”
I said this with a sigh.
“Please have a seat.
Quietly.”
The king stared at me blankly for a moment, then burst into deep, hearty laughter.
“Gahahahaha!
So this is the woman ‘in mourning’!”
Too loud.
Seriously, far too loud.
“I thought you’d tremble when I mentioned disrespect, but instead you lecture me while seated!
Claude said you had guts, but I didn’t expect this much!”
He dropped heavily onto the sofa opposite me.
I swear the sofa screamed.
“I like you!
What’s your name!”
“Eliana.
…At present, just Claude-sama’s fiancée.”
“Mm.
I’m Louis.
You know that, right.
…Hey, get me some tea.
I’m thirsty.”
That classic royal move of expecting things to be done for him.
Normally, etiquette would demand the finest tea leaves brewed at the perfect temperature.
But unfortunately, Claude-sama was not here, and his high-grade tea was locked away.
All I had was my own cheap tea.
(…What a hassle.)
Boiling water would take time.
I opened the cooler box at my feet, a magic container filled with ice.
Inside was a pitcher Mina had brought me this morning.
“Here you go.”
I poured it generously into a glass and set it before him.
A brown liquid.
Ice clinked softly.
The king peered suspiciously into the glass.
“…What is this.
It’s awfully light for black tea.”
“It’s a special lower-town blend.”
I was not lying.
It was barley tea.
“…Hoh.”
He downed it despite his suspicion.
Gulp, gulp, gulp… puaah!
“…This is good!”
His eyes flew open.
“What is this!?
It’s fragrant and refreshing!
The palace teas are always overloaded with sugar, but this… it really quenches your thirst!”
“It’s made by roasting barley and boiling it.
It’s rich in minerals and good for summer fatigue.”
“I like it!
Another!”
I silently tilted the pitcher again.
I never imagined His Majesty would be so moved by commoner barley tea.
Royal diets really must be terribly unbalanced.
Like Claude-sama, this man seemed starved for simple comforts.
By the time he finished his second glass, his excitement had finally settled.
“…Phew.
I feel alive again.”
He leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his stomach contentedly.
“Now then, Eliana.
…About Claude.”
His tone suddenly dropped.
His expression turned serious.
“He’s always been stuck with the short end of the stick.
The reason I can act however I please is because he takes all the mud in my place.”
“I am aware.”
“He was a child who never smiled.
Always striving for perfection, suppressing his emotions.
…But lately?”
The king grinned.
“In meetings, he suddenly checks the clock and fidgets.
He even says things like ‘I’m leaving at five.’
…I’ve never seen him look so alive.”
“I apologize… for the trouble.”
“No.
I thank you.”
He looked straight at me.
“Thank you for making him human again.
…With you by his side, he won’t break.”
His eyes were filled with deep affection for his brother.
Despite his rough manner, this man truly saw everything.
How cornered his brother had been.
I straightened my posture just a little.
“…I am simply spoiling him.
It is comfortable to have him slack off with me.”
“Gahahah!
That’s perfect!
What he needs isn’t a comrade-in-arms, but a place where he can rest together with someone!”
The king laughed loudly and demanded a third glass of barley tea.
It seemed I had earned his favor.
If anything, it felt like I had gained a troublesome relative.
“Now then.”
Setting his glass down, he made a mischievous face.
I had a bad feeling.
“Eliana.
I have a favor to ask.”
“…I refuse.”
“I haven’t even said it yet!
…The truth is, an envoy from the Eastern Empire will be arriving soon.”
The Eastern Empire.
The same country involved in the recent treaty fiasco.
A military state that valued force and looked down on soft cultures.
“The delegation is led by their Third Imperial Princess, Hilda.
Nicknamed ‘The Rose of the Battlefield.’
…She has quite the temper.”
“I see.”
“Our soft nobles can’t handle her.
Polite words don’t work.
Neither does subtle maneuvering.
…So.”
The king leaned forward.
“You deal with her.”
“…What?”
I stared at him.
“Why me.
I am not a diplomat.”
“But you are Claude’s fiancée.
And you have the nerve to be called a ‘witch’ in this library.
You are the only one who can handle that muscle-brained princess!”
“You have chosen the wrong person.
I am a pacifist.
I dislike conflict.”
“You don’t need to fight.
Just deflect her ‘momentum.’
…I’m asking you!
This isn’t a royal order, but a request from your future brother-in-law!”
“That phrasing is unfair.”
I sighed.
A royal order could be rejected with the contract.
But a “family request” hit differently.
And if I refused and the princess went on a rampage, the one cleaning it up would be Claude-sama.
I could not let him work overtime.
“…Very well.
But I will handle it my way.”
“Oh!
You’ll do it!
I owe you!”
The king stood up, beaming.
“Claude will give you the details!
The barley tea was excellent!”
He left like a storm.
Doooon, the door shut behind him.
All that remained was silence, an empty pitcher, and the sense of new trouble brewing.
“…Haa.”
I sank into the sofa.
An Eastern Empire princess.
‘The Rose of the Battlefield.’
Even the name sounded exhausting.
“Mina… maybe I should ask her to make extra barley tea tomorrow…”
I stared at the ceiling.
My peaceful library life was under threat once again.
And this time, it carried the scent of physical violence.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
“Brother!
Are you in here!?
Please don’t wander off without warning!”
It was Claude-sama’s voice, almost a scream.
It seemed they had just missed each other.
I smiled wryly and began preparing fresh tea for him.
Comforting my stomach-aching fiancé came first.
“…Good grief.”
Only a few days remained until my meeting with the battle princess.
I did not yet know.
That the imperial princess would arrive carrying a one-sided sense of rivalry toward me.