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Chapter 6
Far to the south of the capital lay a quiet, secluded fief: Fostin.
Though many years had passed and it had been forgotten by most, the lord of Fostin—Aurelian—was no ordinary woman.
She was the wife of the Emperor of the Empire beyond the border.
Originally the eldest daughter of a family of generals who rode horses and wielded swords, she had a bold, straightforward temperament. Had the kingdom not panicked and offered her to the Empire as a political bride, she might have grown into a figure who ruled the kingdom with great authority.
Naturally, she did not get along with her timid, insecure husband.
The emperor’s frequent affairs, his lovers lining the corridors of the imperial palace.
In that situation, Aurelian made a move no one had expected.
“I want a divorce.”
It was the empress herself demanding it.
“Th-there is no such law, Empress.”
“That’s perfect. Then we can make it the first. I hope the women who have suffered in silence will see our divorce and find their freedom.”
“Th-that is—”
“Or I could become the first in some other way. For example, a wife who couldn’t endure a tedious divorce trial and strangled her husband to death?”
“…!!”
The timid emperor couldn’t even meet her eyes until the day he stamped the divorce papers. If she truly tried to strangle him, he’d be lucky; she might even crush that part of him and call it an accident.
Thus, Aurelian returned to her homeland by such a shocking method—but to the kingdom, she was just as troublesome.
They couldn’t send a former empress back to a private estate, yet they couldn’t treat her carelessly either.
In the end, they agreed that granting her a suitable territory and having her live out the rest of her life alone was the best solution.
The land she was given was Fostin. It was also a place that bordered the Empire.
Once the most noble woman in the country, she gradually faded from memory that way.
To think I’d draw attention again like this.
Aurelian sighed and rubbed her wrinkled forehead.
Before her stood a dazzlingly handsome young man, like a sculpted statue, wearing a crimson cloak.
He was the current emperor: Kamin Mareschal.
The previous emperor had been Aurelian’s son, making Kamin her grandson.
Though he was her grandson, aside from the moment of his birth, this was practically the first time they had faced each other like this.
“It’s a pleasure to see you in such good health, Grandmother.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.”
“Please speak more casually. You are my grandmother, after all.”
Making affectionate words sound so utterly devoid of emotion was a talent in itself.
Aurelian, who had no intention of indulging hollow pleasantries, drew a firm line in a calm tone.
“All such relationships were discarded on the day I declared my divorce in the cathedral. Please treat me as an ordinary Lady Aurelian, Your Majesty.”
It was a conversation that clearly put her in a submissive position, and Kamin’s stiff expression relaxed slightly. Still, he continued in a rigid voice.
“…The fruit you sent was excellent. I never imagined it had been given under the blessing of Boneracol.”
At his words, Aurelian’s face twisted in pain. The fruit grown by Riena had been so beautiful that she’d sent it to her daughter and son in the Empire—and that had caused all this trouble.
“That is a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?”
A cold smile spread across the emperor’s face.
“Are you saying your divorce from the imperial family and the strangely abundant harvest in Fostin have absolutely nothing to do with the sword that vanished from the palace?”
So he did think that. When she sent the letter, this was the misunderstanding Aurelian had feared most. She shut her eyes tightly and answered.
“I can swear to the heavens that I have nothing to be ashamed of. The day I abandoned the Mareschal name, I left everything behind in the imperial palace. There are plenty of witnesses who can attest to that.”
“……”
Kamin knew almost nothing about his grandmother, but he did believe it ungentlemanly to interrogate a dignified noblewoman any further. He moved on coldly.
“Then where is the sword?”
Aurelian let out an even deeper sigh.
“It is not in my possession.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“One of my subjects has formed a contract with the sword.”
At that answer, the emperor’s face finally twisted in utter disbelief.
“…You expect me to believe that? It would make more sense to say you divorced while pregnant, came down to Fostin, and hid imperial blood here.”
Even to Aurelian’s own ears, Kamin’s accusation sounded more plausible. Still, the truth did not change.
“No matter how much Your Majesty presses this old body, I have nothing more to say.”
She lowered her head.
“The child’s name is Riena. …She is an ordinary farmer.”
As she introduced Riena, Lady Aurelian hesitated briefly.
Should I say she was once the young lady of House Pond? But she was cast out of her family. Can I really call her an ordinary farmer?
But Kamin, shocked by her words, failed to notice that odd pause.
The Ego Sword—the imperial proof bestowed by Boneracol, the god of abundance.
At the notion that it had chosen someone other than a member of the imperial bloodline as its master, Kamin closed his mouth, his expression grave.
I, Riena Pond, have a few bucket-list items I wrote after regaining memories of my past life.
Things like pulling up the biggest radish in the world, or shouting that all the land to the horizon belonged to me.
Among them was this:
“Being called ‘my little kitten’ by a handsome man who looks like Apollo incarnate.”
But what’s this? He is incredibly handsome, but the “little kitten” part failed.
Well, things in life can’t be perfect. Maybe I should be glad half of it came true.
I’d already said it about ten times, but the man was extremely good-looking, and since I hadn’t started farm work yet, I had plenty of stamina—and generosity of spirit.
Hugging Louis tightly, I asked,
“Um, so… you really are here to see me? I’m Riena.”
“That’s correct, Miss Riena.”
The man nodded. It was my first time seeing someone manage to sound arrogant while using polite speech.
He doesn’t seem like a commoner, but he’s being polite to me.
Is he trying to hide his identity? What on earth is he?
They say people who are excessively polite are either con artists or gentlemen. Raising an eyebrow, I said,
“I’ll hear your business at the doorway. I trust you’re not a ruffian trying to enter the home of a woman living alone.”
I thought that was a perfectly reasonable request, but unexpectedly, the squid-faced man standing behind him flared up.
“How rude—!!”
“Eh?!”
Startled, I fired back at the man in an even faster, rap-battle-like rush of words.
“You’re not shameless enough to knock on someone else’s door early in the morning and then demand manners too, are you?!”
“What did you say?!”
“That’s enough.”
The squid-faced man looked ready to smack my head, but stopped when the handsome man raised his hand. I rolled my eyes.
Definitely someone of high status.
So what kind of story led someone like this to call me a stray kitten?
Does he want my land? Or did he come to steal my farming techniques? No matter what he asks, I mustn’t give in!
Well, the fact that I was already thinking this meant my resolve was weakening quite a bit.
It can’t be helped. Our people have been suckers for good looks since the Silla era.
As I waited, heart pounding with curiosity, the man pointed at Louis.
“I am the owner of the sword you are holding. I’ve come to retrieve it.”
“…What?”
Wait, that’s what he’s here for?
Wow, didn’t see that coming. I thought this was the only thing I owned that might actually be worth something.
All our Louis-Louis was good for was glowing all night—and since his mouth glowed along with him, it was debatable whether that was valuable at all.
No—more importantly!
“Louis-Louis, did you have another owner?”
—What are you talking about?! You’re my only master!
When I shook Louis in betrayal, he shouted back indignantly. Tilting my head, I looked at the handsome man.
“He says no?”
“……”
The man stared at me silently with eyes as clear as the Caribbean Sea.
Oh, is this what it means to communicate with just a look?
I immediately shook Louis again.
“You little brat! You were making such a fuss about not touching other swords until the day you met me—turns out you were the one two-timing…!”
Serving two masters? I’m disappointed, Louis-Louis.
At my interrogation, Louis squawked in protest.
—Hey! Master! He’s not saying anything! Why are you deciding on your own that I’m two-timing?!
Then why do you think I’m asking?
“He has a trustworthy face.”
—Since when did you become so dependent on looks?!
I always was.
But who could I blame? I was the one who grabbed him thinking he was just a hoe.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I heard the man ask with a frown,
“…Are you talking to the sword right now?”
“Huh? If you’re really the owner, shouldn’t you know that?”
At my question, he cleared his throat and turned his head away.
“Ahem. I already know it’s a sword with its own will.”
“Right. A very taciturn, quiet sword.”
“Indeed.”
Wow. He’s not only handsome but a gentleman too.
He probably couldn’t con anyone even if he tried.
“…So you were completely lying about being the owner. This sword is a scatterbrained narcissist. Taciturn, my foot.”
—Hey! Is that really how you see me?! Hey!
Louis hummed angrily in protest. I quickly hid him behind my back, then lifted my chin and met the man’s gaze.
“So, what is your real business here?”
