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Chapter 3
A Date Proposal
“So when would be good, Tessia? When does the Order have a rest day?”
“…Pardon?”
Tessia, who had been absentmindedly moving her utensils on autopilot, snapped to attention at the Emperor’s voice. Emperor Helios laced his fingers together and tilted his head in a leisurely manner. Strike while the iron’s hot, after all. With the whole family gathered, he was planning to bring up the matter of Tessia’s fiancé candidate—specifically, the prince of Tiranavan, who had arrived first in the Empire. The only issue was that Tessia didn’t know about the fiancé candidate at all. Meanwhile, Helios assumed that she did. Neither of them realized that this misunderstanding was the root of the problem.
“Wouldn’t it be best to meet him in person? Your brother here thought long and hard before choosing for you, but still—you need to see for yourself and decide.”
Tessia swallowed hard.
Meet who…?
Truth be told, she hadn’t been listening to a single word the Emperor had said. Her eyes, the color of fresh leaves, darted about. If she admitted she didn’t know what was going on, Helios would sulk… ugh. Then, suddenly, a thought crossed her mind.
Ah. Could it be about the Valkyrie Knights’ request for reinforcement with mage-soldiers?
The Valkyrie Knights were composed of excellent warriors, but they were slightly short on mage-soldiers. True, Tessia and the others’ overwhelming physical strength more than made up for it—but still, it was a regrettable shortfall. She had already submitted a request for reinforcements to Helios not long ago.
I thought I only sent in the request last week… and he’s handling it this quickly?
At times like this, it was nice having a cousin who happened to be the Emperor. For once, Tessia felt a tiny flicker of affection toward her doting cousin as she answered,
“This week is a rest period for everyone except the essential personnel.”
“Excellent! Then how about this weekend?”
With additional mage-soldiers, the Valkyrie Knights would be more perfect than ever—capable of supporting the warriors’ stamina and bolstering defensive strategies. In short, magic would become wings for ground soldiers. Excited by the thought of reinforcements, Tessia’s eyes sparkled.
“I’d like to meet them sooner. Could we do tomorrow?”
“Even better!”
Helios grinned from ear to ear, never imagining that Tessia was thinking of something else entirely. He had worried she might refuse, but instead, she was enthusiastic.
I only found true peace of mind after meeting Liorfe myself, he thought. Surely Tessia had also been struggling silently from frequent deployments. She had never once complained and fought solely for the Empire’s sake—what a commendable cousin. Helios almost shed tears inside. At the same time, his determination blazed: he would find the perfect husband for his lovely, fairy-like Tessia. First step: the prince of Tiranavan. And there were plenty more candidates lined up!
I swear on our late mother’s name, I will find you a husband worthy of you.
Tessia, meanwhile, was equally excited—though for a completely different reason.
How many recruits will there be? Do they at least have basic stamina? Even if they’re mages, a weakling would have a hard time on the battlefield.
It was, in every sense, a perfect case of dreaming different dreams in the same bed.
The next morning, Tessia headed straight to the Estonian Academy of Magic. The Emperor had offered to arrange a meeting in the palace, but she preferred to go herself—she wanted to meet the reinforcement right away. Her face practically glowed with anticipation. Humming a tune, she urged her horse forward.
A healing mage, no less. Even better.
Mage-soldiers were rare, but healers were rarer still. Healing magic required not only deep understanding but also abundant innate mana. Mana was like an endless spring, but healing involved transferring one’s mana into another, so a person with too small a “vessel” could collapse before finishing a single treatment. That’s why people said one healer was worth twenty mage-soldiers.
I heard he’s handsome, charming, and gentlemanly too. You’ll love him, Helios had enthused, listing off the new recruit’s virtues. He assured her that Rowenhart, prince of Tiranavan, was a genius with excellent ability—more than capable of supporting her.
“Welcome, Lady Chloris. We’ve been expecting you.”
Jerod, the headmaster of the Academy, personally came out to greet her. As both the Emperor’s cherished sister and a war hero of the Empire, Tessia was a highly honored guest. She was also his former student—though she had given up quickly after discovering her utter lack of magical talent.
Now, hearing that Lady Tessia was to marry, and that she had rushed here herself rather than wait for arrangements at the palace—it felt almost like sending off another daughter in marriage. Smiling warmly, Jerod said,
“My lady, so it’s finally that time for you.”
“…Huh?”
“It makes me feel how quickly time passes. Why, it feels like yesterday that you toddled along holding Duke Chloris’s hand, and now you already have someone in your heart. Haha.”
“…Well, I suppose so?”
Tessia answered with a bright smile, too excited about finally gaining a healer to notice the slight mismatch in their conversation.
“He’s someone precious. I intend to make him one of my own.”
“My lady…! So you’ve already decided?”
“He’s capable. I can’t let someone like that slip away.”
“Indeed, indeed. His status and talents are guaranteed.”
Jerod guided her to a room next to his office. The moment Tessia stepped inside, she was overwhelmed with gratitude for the Emperor’s generosity.
Oh my. He’s really handsome.
Even before meeting him, she had been drawn in by his abilities. Now, seeing his face—he was exactly her type.
“Greetings. I am Rowenhart Tiranavan.”
The prince rose to greet her politely. Tessia’s gaze darted over him. His hair flowed like the blue summer sky, his eyes gleamed like a starlit lake, and his confident gaze exuded sociability. He was so tall that even Tessia—no small woman herself—had to tilt her head to look up at him.
Tall. Good.
Not frail-looking at all, despite being a mage. Another point in his favor.
As she stared blankly, Rowenhart approached with a smile. Kneeling gracefully on one knee like a knight pledging an oath, he took her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.
Startled, Tessia stiffened as he murmured,
“Pleased to meet you, Princess.”
Ah… Right. She really was back in the capital now. Until now, she had been a knight commander, not a princess. And on the battlefield, the only time lips touched hands was in mourning for the dead. She was so unused to social niceties that her mouth twitched awkwardly. It felt as though a tiny butterfly beat its wings where his lips had touched. She tried to pull her hand back, but Rowenhart’s stunning looks all but erased her will to resist. Gulp.
…Well, he passes in the looks department.
Honestly, she wanted to tell him to start work this very afternoon. Even without magical talent, just having that face around would boost morale among her knights.
“…I’m Tessia Chloris. Nice to meet you too.”
Clinging to her rationality, she managed a smile.
From the sidelines, Headmaster Jerod’s jaw dropped. His bloodstained disciple from the battlefield was now blushing and shyly greeting a man! He was already picturing their wedding and future children. Discreetly wiping away a tear, Jerod stepped forward.
“Well, well. A handsome pair, indeed.”
“Headmaster Jerod.”
“I think there’s nothing more for me to say. I’ll leave you two to talk privately.”
Chuckling slyly, he slipped out.
Now alone together, Rowenhart smoothly escorted Tessia.
“Please, have a seat, Princess. May I offer you some tea?”
Though he had only just arrived at the Academy, his actions were utterly natural—like someone used to being at ease.
“Ah… yes, thank you.”
Ironically, it was Tessia, native of the Empire, who felt awkward. Perhaps sensing this, Rowenhart kept the conversation flowing effortlessly.
“This tea is one of Tiranavan’s specialties. Though the first taste is slightly bitter, the aftertaste is soft and refined. A popular luxury leaf. My tea-brewing skills are considered excellent—even my mother admits so.”
He seated her at the head spot, sat beside her, and brewed the tea himself, describing it as he poured, ensuring there were no awkward silences. Even Tessia, whose social graces had long withered on battlefields, found herself drawn into the easy conversation.
As she sipped the fragrant tea, she asked,
“I’ve heard you’re especially gifted in healing magic?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
Rowenhart answered confidently. Here in Estoria, away from Tiranavan’s constraints, he no longer needed to hide his talent. He was a genius, his mana praised as a blessing from the gods—rich and abundant. The Academy was notoriously strict: even a princess’s fiancé would not be admitted without ability. That he was here proved his worth twice over.
Tessia nodded. “I like it. If His Majesty recommended you, I can trust it even more.”
“Thank you. I’m equally glad to meet you. You are as beautiful, kind, and fairy-like as described.”
“…Excuse me?”
“The Emperor wrote me a letter, telling me about you. That’s what decided me to come here. Well, not the only reason—but certainly a strong one.”
What on earth did he write this time…? Tessia’s head throbbed at the thought of Helios’s embarrassing exaggerations. Coughing lightly, she straightened her posture.
“Anyway. That makes this simple. Starting tomorrow, report to the Valkyrie Knights by nine a.m. If you can’t find the way, just grab any knight and ask for me.”
“Of course. I’ll do so.”
Rowenhart gave her a sweet smile—the polished smile of a man trained in endless social interactions. In Tiranavan, he had been the subject of countless rumors. Though only a second prince by a side branch, he had ability, noble status, and the king’s favor. At minimum, a dukedom awaited him. Many noble families had sought him for their daughters. But because of his ambiguous position, Rowenhart had never been free to choose his own marriage. The crown prince still had no heir, after all. The words he had most often heard from the king and queen, wearing guilty expressions, were: “We’re sorry, Rowenhart.”
It was a shackle: he was expected to sacrifice forever for the crown prince. Rowenhart licked his lips bitterly. That was why he had to win Tessia’s favor and secure this engagement. He liked Estoria and the freedom it offered. Once gained, he would not let it go.
Fortunately, his prospective fiancée seemed bold and straightforward. She had even asked him on a date herself. Unlike the coy, fake-shy noble ladies, she spoke and acted as she pleased. He found her directness refreshing.
Her decisive manner made Tessia clap her hands in satisfaction. Time to establish order.
“I’ll speak informally, alright?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m your superior, after all.”
In the military, hierarchy was absolute, even if the subordinate happened to be a foreign prince. Rowenhart was momentarily taken aback. Did wives usually hold the authority in Estoria? Regardless, if Tessia wanted it, he had no choice but to comply. He mentally flipped through all the information he had memorized about her before coming.
What was Princess Tessia’s type again?
…Nothing. To his horror, he realized there was no information at all about her ideal partner or romantic history. Normally, he calculated everything in advance based on data. Now, he was unprepared.
Just as his mind spun, Tessia tilted her head closer and asked again,
“No objections, right?”
“…Sorry?”
“Answer.”
When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Besides, if this was what she wanted—Rowenhart, ever the seasoned socialite, kept his smile firmly in place. He mentally jotted down a new note:
Values strict hierarchy. Views marriage like the military.
Once he accepted that, his composure returned.
“I understand.”
The contrast between her fairy-like appearance and her martial way of speaking intrigued him. Playing along might not be so bad. His fiancée-to-be probably really did see married life as a military unit.
“I will do my utmost to serve you faithfully.”
Tessia nodded in deep satisfaction. At last, a subordinate she truly liked had joined her ranks.
