TDSFE 2

Chapter 2

 A Sign of Engagement

Early spring, as winter was passing.
Helios, Emperor of the Estonian Empire, was entirely preoccupied with choosing a suitor for Tesia, having no idea about the letter that would soon be burned.

“Taking the princess’s tastes into account, I’ve drawn up a list of potential husbands.”

The emperor’s aide spoke in a solemn and serious tone.

“Boness.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why does this one only have a picture from childhood?”

Helios lifted a portrait. In it, a fairy-like child with a dazzling smile looked out at him.

The boy had hair as blue as shattered sky and eyes the color of the sea. Even in the painting, his beauty was obvious—so by now, he must surely have grown into a fine young man.

“Ah. Recently, a fire broke out at his residence due to a maid’s mistake. All the portraits were destroyed, and this was the only one left. It seems they barely managed to send this on time to meet the deadline.”

“I see.” Helios nodded.

“Oh? And what happened after the fire? What became of the maid?”

“He is such a man of noble character that the maid was forgiven and continues to work diligently in his household. Though, it seems her wages were slightly reduced.”

Helios nodded again. The fairy-like face of the child kept drawing his gaze. Character was important too—if someone could forgive such mistakes with grace, surely he would show the same patience and kindness in marriage with Tesia.

“And what of his relations with women?”

Realizing that the emperor’s interest was focused on the boy in the painting, Boness gave a detailed report.

“They say he is gentle, good-natured, intelligent, and brave—an exemplary prince. His popularity is such that people wait all night in front of the palace just for a glimpse of him. Yet, despite this, there are no scandals or rumors of affairs.”

He might have had romances, but Boness discreetly left that aside. After all, an experienced man was likely better suited for a novice like Tesia. But Helios seemed to interpret his words differently.

“Hm… You don’t think there’s a problem in that area, do you?”

That, too, could cause marital troubles! Helios frowned deeply. Tesia’s husband had to be perfect—even there.

“Fortunately, his health examination showed no issues.”

“Excellent!” Helios clapped his hands. He cleared his throat and began again.

“As you know, our Tesia is flawless. She is beautiful, gentle, sweet, and lovable. Do you remember how adorable she was as a child? She couldn’t even pass a stray puppy without stopping, and she couldn’t harm so much as an ant.”

That same gentle and lovely Tesia was now known on the battlefield as the Blood Fairy, leading the tide of war.

“And Tesia is so pure, too. You know this. How many princes have braved long journeys just to visit the Empire for her sake?”

That same “pure” girl was infamous on the battlefield as the Butcher of War. But Boness, well aware of the emperor’s rose-tinted view, listened without a flicker of doubt—and even agreed.

“Indeed, Your Majesty. The princess is perfect and beautiful. It is only natural for Your Majesty to deliberate with such care.”

After all, to protest would be pointless. His words would only slip past Helios’s ears. After twenty-six years of serving an emperor with a sister complex, Boness had mastered the art of nodding along to fantasies.

“Exactly! The world is dangerous these days. I can hardly sleep for worry about Tesia. You must already know my intentions in arranging this marriage.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Our Tesia is so patriotic that she never stays safely at the capital. She’s always wandering outside.”

The emperor sighed gloomily.

“So I thought—if she had a proper, gentle husband at home, perhaps she would go to war less often.”

“Yes, indeed, Your Majesty.”

“That’s why we must choose her husband carefully. Someone who won’t fall short of her in the slightest. As you know… ahem…”

Helios lowered his voice.

“From childhood, Tesia has always had a weakness for things that are beautiful and cute. She knows she is pretty herself.”

Thus, Helios painstakingly selected handsome, charming candidates who might catch Tesia’s eye. ***

Among them, Prince Lowenhardt of the Kingdom of Tiranavan was chosen. According to both Helios and Boness, his noble character, strong constitution, and fairy-like childhood beauty made him a fitting match for Tesia. And so, an invitation was sent to Tiranavan—just as Lowenhardt had planned.

‘Lowenhardt, if this is not what you desire, you need not go.’

The king’s message was, as always, kind. The king and queen of Tiranavan were good people. They had raised Lowenhardt without discrimination, presenting him everywhere as their second son. Outsiders always said the same: that the king and queen had lovingly raised their adopted son.

Originally, the royal couple had no children. After eight barren years of marriage, the king adopted a relative’s child to secure succession—that boy was Lowenhardt Tiranavan. But the following winter, against all odds, the queen bore a son. Lowenhardt’s destiny was overturned. Adopted to be the future king, he suddenly became a shadow.

Even so, he was raised as if he were their own. Yet, as the crown prince grew, Lowenhardt was forced into second place. Because he was not blood-born, he could never surpass the crown prince—in grades, in magic, in anything. This, despite being born with the greatest magical power in all Tiranavan, a kingdom of magic. For Lowenhardt, Tiranavan was nothing more than a gilded cage.

Then came the news: the Estonian Emperor was seeking a fiancé for his cousin, Princess Tesia. Lowenhardt knew at once—it was an opportunity he could not miss. He gathered every bit of information about the emperor and the princess. He had to win the emperor’s favor. While others surely sent their most recent, flattering portraits, he made up an excuse and sent his most charming childhood one.

“His Majesty awaits your decision, Prince.”

“I had already resolved this from the start. I will not refuse.”

And he wasn’t going only as a suitor. Lowenhardt would also attend the Estonian Empire’s prestigious Magic Academy as an exchange student. This academy—nicknamed “Mami-so” (short for “Academy for the Crazy About Magic”)—accepted only those with extraordinary talent. Its graduates were all exceptional. From Calian, famed at the Imperial Medical Institute, to Chloe, a hero of the battlefield, and Stania, a disaster relief star who fought raging seas—all were from the academy. Every aspiring mage dreamed of studying there. Along with the invitation, Emperor Helios had sent Lowenhardt a letter of recommendation.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I shall relay this to the king.”

The attendant bowed and departed. Lowenhardt traced the recommendation letter with his fingers. The unfamiliar life awaiting him in Estonia would surely be eased by the academy. Moreover, Princess Tesia was said to be a knight—knights lived communally for training and rode to war when battle broke out. Lowenhardt found her profession fascinating. In Tiranavan, noblewomen shrank from swords.

The academy too held his interest. There, he would encounter magic unknown even in Tiranavan. More than the marriage, this was what truly stirred his heart. His talents had been stifled at home—he wanted to test whether his abilities were truly vast enough to hold the world.

And by the king’s account, Princess Tesia was kind, beautiful, and good. Helios’s handwritten letter had heaped countless other praises upon her. All in all, it was not a bad match—for both personal future and political alliance.

“Vivaldi.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Pack my things.”

With that crisp, composed command, Lowenhardt smiled faintly. ***

Two weeks later, the fair and adorable Tesia, who knew she was beautiful, also returned to the capital. Citizens thronged the streets to welcome back the victorious Valkyrie Knights. Children ran alongside the knights, scattering flowers.

“Wow! It’s the princess!”

“Look! A winged horse! Mommy, me too!”

Tesia smiled at them. On the battlefield there had been no children’s laughter, no sounds of ordinary life—this peace was what she and her knights had fought to protect. They all smiled as they rode. Some dismounted to lift children onto their horses.

“Me too! Me too!”

Soon, every knight—including Tesia—had dismounted to seat children on their horses. Onlookers laughed warmly.

“Oh my, future knights indeed!”

The children giggled atop the horses as flower petals rained down. It was a return no different from countless others. At the end of this road, Tesia thought, her parents, her brother Helios, Empress Liorphe, and her darling nieces and nephews would be waiting. A homecoming like any other. ***

“My dear, you’ve lost weight.”

“Well, the battlefield doesn’t have much food. But I’m fine, Mother.”

Her duchess mother wiped her tears and piled her plate high with meat.

“She used to eat an entire deer in one sitting… Your Majesty, could we not have several more deer prepared for our Tesia?”

“Of course, Duchess! We’ve already had plenty of venison dishes prepared.”

The emperor laughed heartily. It was a family meal—but the family was anything but ordinary. Twenty knights stood guard, with servants bustling about. Still, Tesia ate comfortably.

“Princess Tesia,” Empress Liorphe asked distractedly as she tended to the young prince and princess, “you weren’t injured, were you?”

“No, Your Majesty. You needn’t worry.”

Tesia smiled brightly. Her plate, once heaped with food, was already empty. Duke Chloris placed an entire fillet of salmon onto her dish.

“Tesia, you mustn’t eat only meat. Fish is full of nutrients too.”

“Yes, Father.”

Satisfied to see her eat properly, the duke smiled faintly. Ahem. At last, he too would have a story to boast about at gatherings—about how his daughter happily ate the fish he prepared for her.

Meanwhile, the emperor cut in again.

“Tesia, do you know how long your brother has awaited your return? Our late father once held my hand tightly and said—”

Here we go again. Tesia shut her ears. In other words, she began to tune him out.

“He said I must care for his only daughter. That your happiness was in my hands.”

Why Father left such words about his niece, she could not understand. Outsiders might even think she was an orphan. Empress Liorphe shook her head, catching Tesia’s gaze, and smiled comfortingly at her—aware of how exhausting her doting family was.

And now, as always, came the endless tales of her adorable childhood and overblown praises.

“Tesia, let me tell you—”

See?

‘So tiring…’

After twenty-six years of enduring an overbearing brother, Tesia had long since maxed out her skill at listening with one ear and letting it out the other.