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Chapter 6
The Process of Getting to Know Each Other
After Lowenhart left, Emperor Helios ordered his aide to bring the list of suitors once again. Staring at the spread-out portraits on his desk, Helios sank into thought.
“Hm…”
He tapped his fingers lightly against the desk. Among the candidates, the most suitable one was none other than Lowenhart Tiranaban. He was praised for his character, had good looks that perfectly matched Tesia’s tastes, and, being an adopted son of a king, there was little risk of meddling by in-laws. He was, in every way, the optimal match carefully chosen after much deliberation.
But after meeting Lowenhart just now, another thought crossed Helios’s mind.
Perhaps I should keep other candidates in mind as well.
How dare he find fault with our kind, fairy-like, and utterly lovable Tesia? Although the prince had denied it, Helios’s mood was already soured. He might have been the best match for Tesia on paper, but if he truly proved unacceptable, he could be replaced. After all, he was here only as a candidate. That was the very reason multiple suitors had been lined up—to find the most fitting one for Tesia. Helios spoke to his aide.
“What has the prince been up to these days?”
Aide Bones recited the findings of his prior investigation.
“He reports to the knights’ order three times a week, and the remaining weekdays he spends on academy research. As for Princess Tesia, it seems they went riding together this morning.”
“Hm.”
“And according to the steward of the mansion Your Majesty provided him, the prince has been gathering information about Princess Tesia from the staff.”
“What kind of information?”
“Mainly regarding the princess’s preferences. What food she likes, her taste in music, her hobbies—those sorts of things.”
“…The prince knows a thing or two. Well, of course—if he wishes to meet our Tesia, he ought to make at least that much effort.”
The frown on Helios’s brow eased slightly. It seemed the prince was making some effort after all. Still, the irritation in his heart did not fully subside. Sensing the emperor’s restless mood, Bones offered counsel.
“Isn’t it too early to judge? Perhaps it would be wise to watch a while longer…”
No man would ever truly satisfy the emperor—not when the matter concerned choosing Tesia’s husband. Helios let out a dissatisfied murmur.
“Hm.”
“I shall increase surveillance on the prince.”
At his aide’s swift adjustment, the emperor gave a reluctant nod.
Back in his homeland, Lowenhart was immensely popular. His noble blood and magical talent certainly contributed, but his eloquence and social finesse were equally powerful assets. Handsome, charming, and ever ready with flattering words and heart-throbbing gestures—such popularity was inevitable.
Yet this was also the fruit of a desperate struggle to survive. He had been adopted with the expectation of becoming king, only to be denied that role. If he ever seemed a threat to the crown prince, he could be discarded at any time and reduced to a life in the gutter. But if he proved too lacking, the royal family would cast him out all the same.
Lowenhart had to survive within this contradiction. Growing up ever watchful of others, he quickly realized that wit and social graces were vital tools for survival. Thus, instead of becoming “outstanding,” he became a “beloved” prince. As long as he had the people’s affection, the royal family would not dare discard him lightly.
The king and queen had been kind enough to him. Even after their own child was born, they did not cast Lowenhart out. But neither did he ever truly become “family.” Had this been only his insecurity, he might have blamed himself. But no—the wall of exclusion was real. Lowenhart was sick of such constraints. That was why he saw carving out a place for himself in the Estonian Empire as his first step toward freedom from those shackles.
Tesia Chloris…
He tapped his fingers against the desk, lost in thought. Tesia was the very image of a knight: bold, straightforward, unrestrained. She might look like a woodland fairy, but inside, she was more like a friend of the same age and gender. Knights in love were notorious—they carried their vows of loyalty into their romances, often loving with absolute devotion. Princess Tesia would likely be no different. And as she was the emperor’s beloved cousin, winning her favor could transform Lowenhart’s life.
Thus, succeeding in winning Tesia’s heart was not optional—it was mandatory. He stroked his chin.
“Princess Tesia certainly seemed to like my looks.”
Otherwise, why would she bother paying such close attention to a mere new recruit of the knights’ order, not even her official fiancé? Considering what the emperor himself had said, it was clear that Princess Tesia was indeed attracted to his appearance. And his looks were not something he doubted.
Lowenhart recalled all the information he had gathered on her so far. She was a soldier to the core, valuing hierarchy and discipline. She could be more authoritarian than expected, yet surprisingly open-minded. She looked after the knights under her command. She had a huge appetite, and especially loved meat.
“Aha.”
A brilliant idea for charming her flashed across his mind. Not even mighty Tesia could resist this. Anticipating the moment she would fall for him, Lowenhart rose cheerfully from his seat. It was time to seek her out.
With a special snack basket prepared for Tesia, Lowenhart led his attendants to the knights’ training grounds. Boisterous cheers echoed from within. He ordered his attendant:
“Go find out what’s happening.”
The attendant, Vivaldi, rushed off and soon returned.
“The knights are having sparring practice.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. It appears Princess Tesia is also participating.”
Ho. A spark of interest crossed Lowenhart’s face. He knew Tesia was called the “ruler of the battlefield,” but he had never seen her skills firsthand. Would her swordsmanship truly live up to its reputation? With Vivaldi in tow, Lowenhart entered the training grounds.
“Haaah!”
At the center of the open grounds, Tesia and her lieutenant Alex were crossing swords. Alex leapt, but Tesia smoothly pivoted and blocked his strike. Steel clashed midair, sparks flying. The grating scrape of their locked blades sounded deadly serious.
Lowenhart watched her swordsmanship intently. Heavy yet fast, powerful yet light—it was undeniably beyond the level of a Swordmaster. After several exchanges, the outcome was clear. The presiding knight declared loudly:
“Captain Tesia wins!”
“Huff… huff… Truly, Captain, I can never best you.”
“If you beat me, I’d have to step down as captain, wouldn’t I?”
With a playful quip, Tesia flicked her sword downward, as though shaking off blood—a habit from the battlefield. The knights shivered at the sight, recalling why she was called the “Blood Fairy,” smiling radiantly while drenched in the blood of monsters.
As she sheathed her sword, Tesia noticed Lowenhart at the entrance. She waved happily.
“Heart!”
“Your Highness.”
“It’s not even your knights’ order day. What brings you here?”
“I came to see you, Princess.”
He smiled brightly, stepping closer. Tesia’s cheeks were flushed from exertion, making her fairy-like beauty shine even more—yet it was all the harder to reconcile with the swordsmanship he had just witnessed.
Tiranaban was far more sexist than the Estonian Empire; women there were never accepted as knights. Only after coming here did he realize how narrow-minded that was.
“You were incredible, Princess. You subdued your opponent in an instant.”
Lowenhart praised her sincerely.
“Haha, you saw? My skills aren’t something to scoff at.”
Tesia grinned, and Alex, still breathless, interjected.
“Oh please. If the Captain’s skills are just ‘not to be scoffed at,’ then the rest of us are newborn chicks!”
“I think you really are a chick, Alex. Have you been slacking? Couldn’t block that strike?”
“Ugh. It’s only because you’re too strong, Captain!”
Though they bickered, their camaraderie was obvious. Lowenhart’s brow twitched.
They seem unnecessarily close.
As commander and lieutenant, it was a fine match. But for Lowenhart, he needed to become Tesia’s closest person. A lieutenant friendlier with her than he was—that was an obstacle. Now was the time to make a move.
Tesia loved swords—loved them dearly. Used wisely, that could bring them closer. Glancing around the training grounds, Lowenhart made an unexpected proposal.
“That looks fun. How about a spar with me, Princess?”
“Hm?”
“Heart? You?”
Tesia’s eyes widened. A magician asking for a duel? And not even a combat mage, but a healing specialist. Alex, equally shocked, tried to dissuade him—such a duel could end with a precious healer’s untimely death at Tesia’s hands.
“Wait, I admire the spirit, but you’ll die. Your opponent is Captain Tesia!”
“Y-yeah, Heart. You could really die.”
“Your Highness, I was once taught swordsmanship by my homeland’s royal knights’ captain.”
Grinning with confidence, Lowenhart looked like a pup unaware of the tiger before it. Tesia’s eyes betrayed a flicker of worry. She had seen many like him before—eager new recruits challenging her with youthful bravado, only to be carried out on stretchers.
After a moment’s hesitation, Tesia spoke.
“Alright.”
“Captain?”
“But we use wooden swords. Not real blades.”
“Agreed.”
Lowenhart’s cheerful smile made Tesia sigh inwardly. He was a valuable healing mage—she couldn’t break him like she would Alex or an ordinary knight. Around them, murmurs of pity rose.
“So this is how the new recruit goes…”
Tesia loosened her grip on her sword dramatically.
I’ll just go easy on him…
This would be a duel harder than winning—one where she had to hold back.
Tesia and Lowenhart crossed swords.
He’s stronger than I thought…
Lowenhart swallowed a groan. Tesia’s pressure was far heavier than it looked, and the numbing force through the blade was tormenting his wrist. He drew a deep breath and raised his eyes to hers. Her green gaze was steady and calm—the eyes of one who treated the sword with full sincerity.
Their exchange lasted longer than expected. Tesia, who at first had seemed relaxed, was now fighting in earnest. Lowenhart pushed off the ground to retreat, but Tesia swiftly closed the distance again. Her wooden sword sliced the air with a whistle, sharp as if it were steel.
