Chapter 13: The “Battle Maiden” from the Eastern Empire Arrives

Gloom is like gravity.
No matter how you try to escape it, it presses down on your entire body.

The royal palace’s grand hall.
The same place where I had enjoyed roast beef just a few days ago.
I was standing there again.

This time, however, there was no delicious meat and no fluffy sofa.
Only taut tension, heels that made my feet ache, and suffocating diplomatic formalities.

‘…I want to go home.’

I hid my mouth behind my fan and muttered in the smallest possible voice.
Claude-sama beside me replied in a quiet, wry tone.

“Bear with it.
It’ll be over in an hour.”

“An hour?
My legs will turn into sticks.
I’ll sue for labor law violations.”

“I’ll give you a massage later.
…Besides, without you here, I might actually get cut down by Princess Hilda.”

“As the prime minister, please dodge her with words.”

We were trading light banter, careful not to draw attention.
Normally, chatting like this in such a place would be unthinkable.
But with the murderous air emanating from today’s main guests, the Eastern Empire delegation, my stomach would not survive without it.

It was noon.
A trumpet rang out.

“The arrival of Her Highness Hilda von Dragunov, Third Imperial Princess of the Eastern Empire!”

The massive doors opened.
What appeared was not a procession of ladies in dresses.
It was a group clad in black iron armor.

Thud, thud, thud.
The sound of military boots struck the stone floor in perfect rhythm.
At the front walked a tall woman with blazing red hair tied in a ponytail.

She wore a deep crimson military uniform.
A longsword hung at her waist.
Her eyes were sharp, like a hawk locking onto its prey.

“…So that is the ‘Rose of the Battlefield.’”

I was impressed.
The rumors had not exaggerated.
Rather than a rose, she gave off the dangerous scent of a carnivorous plant.

Princess Hilda halted before His Majesty the King, Louis—my brother-in-law—seated upon the throne, and snapped her heels together in a salute.

“I am Hilda, Third Imperial Princess of the Eastern Empire!
I come as my father’s representative!”

She did not curtsey.
It was a soldier’s greeting.
The surrounding nobles frowned, whispering “How barbaric,” but she did not care.

Her gaze shifted to Claude-sama standing at the king’s side.

“…You are the famed ‘Ice Prime Minister,’ Claude Lutetia?”

She strode toward him in long steps.
Claude-sama tightened his expression and donned his cold, impassive mask.

“That I am.
Welcome, Princess, after your long journey.”

“Hmph.
I was told you were the prime minister of a weak cultural nation, but… I see.
At least your eyes are decent.
Cold enough to rival our generals.”

Princess Hilda openly appraised Claude-sama.
Like a merchant inspecting a fine warhorse.

“It is strength that our empire values.
I have no use for men who rely only on words.
…You might be worth crossing blades with.”

A provocative smile.
The air froze.

Proposing a duel at a welcoming ceremony was unheard of.

Claude-sama did not flinch.
He replied calmly.

“I am honored, but my weapons are pen and documents.
Swordplay is best left to the knight order.”

“Tch.
Boring.”

Princess Hilda clicked her tongue.
Then she noticed me standing beside him.

“…And who is that woman?”

“My fiancée, Eliana Bernstein.”

I did not miss the brief softening of Claude-sama’s voice.
Nor the natural motion with which he wrapped an arm around my waist and drew me closer.

“Eliana.
…Your feet hurt, don’t they?
Lean on me a little.”

“…Your Highness, everyone is watching.”

“I don’t care.
It’s better than you suffering.”

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the sweat from my brow.
Then he accepted a glass from a passing server and placed it in my hand.

Attentive to a fault.
Exactly as he was in the library.

But.

This sight clearly struck the battle maiden’s raw nerve.

“…You.”

Her voice was low, crawling along the floor.

“So this is your true nature?”

Princess Hilda’s eyes burned with anger.
Disappointment, contempt, irritation.

“I heard you were called the ‘Ice Prime Minister,’ a man who ruled his nation with cold efficiency.
And yet what is this pathetic display!
Coddling a woman, fussing over her like a servant!”

“…Caring for my fiancée is simply my way.”

“Silence!
You disgust me!
A weak man from a peace-addled nation!”

Princess Hilda exploded with rage, and then, unbelievably, turned that fury on me.

Clang!

Steel rang out.
Her sword left its sheath, stopping mere centimeters from my nose.

“Eek…!”

The noble ladies shrieked and retreated.
The guards tensed to move.

But faster still came her sharp voice.

“This woman!
She is the one who softened you and dragged you into decay!”

She glared straight at me.
Killing intent.
The pressure unique to someone who knew the battlefield.

“Answer me, woman!
What did you do to seduce this man!
Honeyed words?
Or sorcery!”

The blade trembled.
If I moved even a step, it might cut skin.

Any normal lady would have collapsed screaming.
Claude-sama moved to step in front of me.

But I stopped him with a hand.

Then I stared calmly at the blade before me.

Fear?
No.

What I felt was a far more realistic concern.

“…Your Highness.”

I spoke quietly.
My voice did not shake.
She was human.
Compared to pre-deadline Kyle-sama or a rampaging magic printer, she might actually listen.

“Would you please lower your sword?”

“And if I refuse?”

“That would be troublesome.
…If your hand slipped and you injured me.”

I dropped my gaze to the highest-quality carpet beneath our feet.

“Blood would drip onto it.”

“…What?”

Princess Hilda looked dumbfounded.

“This carpet is a royal heirloom that took three years to weave.
Blood stains are protein-based and very difficult to remove.
Even with a Cleansing spell, removing stains that seep into the fibers is labor-intensive.”

I continued with a perfectly serious expression.

“And if I were injured, a doctor would need to be summoned.
Medical reports would be written, apologies exchanged as a diplomatic incident, compensation calculated…
An enormous amount of clerical work would result.”

I sighed.

“I hate overtime.
Could you please refrain from increasing my workload?”

The hall fell deathly silent.

A woman worried about cleaning and overtime rather than her life while a sword was at her throat was unprecedented.

Princess Hilda stared back and forth between me and her sword, mouth agape.

“…Are you insane?”

“Completely sane.
…Also, that sword of yours is not properly maintained.
There is grease floating on the surface.
You should have it polished later.”

I gently pushed the flat of the blade aside with the back of my finger.
Carefully choosing a non-cutting area.

Princess Hilda lowered her sword, looking utterly bewildered.

“…Interesting.”

Her lips curled into a crescent smile.

“Either fearless, or utterly foolish.
…Very well.”

She sheathed the sword.
The click marked the end of the tension.

“Claude Lutetia.
I think I understand, just a little, why you are so taken with this woman.”

She turned to me and grinned.

“Name?”

“Eliana.”

“Eliana, huh.
I’ll remember that.
…But don’t misunderstand.
I have not acknowledged you yet.”

She crossed her arms and declared.

“In our empire, only the strong may stand above others.
…I will test whether you truly deserve to stand at this man’s side.”

“…Test me how?”

A very bad feeling crept in.

“I will formally challenge you to a duel later!
Do not run!”

Princess Hilda laughed loudly and swept out of the hall, leaving stunned nobles behind.

I barely kept myself from collapsing on the spot.

“…Claude-sama.”

“Yes, Eliana?”

“What exactly does ‘duel’ mean?
I have zero athletic ability.”

“I hope it is metaphorical… but with her, it is likely literal.”

Claude-sama stared into the distance.

“…May I decline?”

“It would become a diplomatic issue.
…You can’t.”

Despair.

All I wanted was to go home on time and sleep.
Why did I have to fight—or something like it—with a foreign princess.

“…Understood.”

I made my decision.

“I will accept.
However… the event and the rules will be decided by us.”

If I could not win with my body, I would use my head.
Or drag her into my territory.

I glared at Princess Hilda’s retreating back and began forming a plan.

First priority.
Avoid muscle soreness tomorrow.