TPWSM 02

Chapter 2

“Go on, Alisa.”

The king leaned his upper body toward me.

It had only been a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, yet it seemed to have piqued his interest.

“I’m sure the king of Dvorka will be nothing more than a figurehead without real power, but when you present him to the people of Dvorka, make sure he’s dressed in splendor and dignity. It’ll be a great opportunity to showcase the mercy and generosity of you—Grandfather, the sovereign of their suzerain state.”

The king nodded slowly for a moment, then his gaze turned doubtful.

“Hmph. And how can you be sure that Madilov will so easily hand over his precious son to us?”

“Well… once the prince is in our hands, he’s no different from a hostage. Still, I imagine the royal family of Dvorka is in quite a desperate situation at the moment—from a practical standpoint.”

“…They’ve been living as freeloaders at the lord’s castle on Pardon Island for five years now, eating meals under someone else’s gaze.”

“Exactly. Once a king, queen, and prince of a nation, now forced to live for five long years under the watch of a mere island lord. Imagine how many times their pride must have been trampled, having nothing of their own and relying entirely on a vassal’s charity.”

“Ugh… Just imagining it is dreadful.”

Perhaps picturing the wretched life of a fallen royal family, the king shuddered, his jaw trembling.

“Offer them a deal—tell them you’ll free them from their dependency on Pardon Island’s lord. Your Majesty has plenty of money. You could buy land on the island and give them enough to build a modest palace. That should be a fair price for pawning off one of their children, don’t you think?”

The king absentmindedly scratched his mustache, then shook his head again.

“No matter how impoverished they’ve become, royalty is still royalty. They’ve already suffered the humiliation of losing the war. Would they really sell off a son just to build a palace?”

I stifled a laugh.

That’s because you’ve never been desperate, Your Majesty.

Of course, there’s always the possibility that the Dvorka royals would cling to their pride until the end.

“In that case, how about this? Instead of bluntly asking for a prince, propose a marriage alliance between our royal houses.”

At the word marriage, the king’s brows furrowed deeply.

“Alisa, did you just say marriage? Are you telling me to form an alliance with that fool Madilov?”

The king’s graying brows twitched like earthworms. He clearly had no desire to marry his bloodline into that of a defeated nation.

“Yes. A marriage alliance between countries that once fought bitterly has multiple meanings—the complete end of the war, the mending of long-standing animosity. Taking in a son-in-law from a fallen royal family isn’t such a bad idea. What could be better for dousing the flames of resistance?”

“…Hmph.”

“If it doesn’t appeal to you, then please forget I said anything. It was only a passing thought.”

I smiled lightly at the silent king.

Whether he acted on my words was up to him. If he didn’t like the idea, so be it.

After all, I had only answered his question—it wasn’t like I had meant the suggestion too seriously.

“…Madilov had no daughters, only sons, correct?”

…Hm?

Was he actually considering marriage with the Dvorka royals?

The king’s expression turned serious as he began counting on his fingers the number of princes he knew.

“Exactly six, if you count those born to concubines,” I replied.

To my knowledge, King Madilov of Dvorka had six princes—five by his queen, Elizabeta, and one by a concubine, Nadia, a former dancer.

Nadia was said to be a beauty so captivating that the king lost himself to her, blind even to his nation’s decline. He refused to have her as merely a mistress, introducing an Eastern-style harem system just to make her a concubine in name and keep her to himself.

Despite fierce opposition from the queen and the nobles, he stubbornly pushed it through, claiming he wanted the woman he loved to belong to him entirely, to live shut away and gaze only at him.

It was an obsession bordering on madness.

Ironically, Nadia died after a stillbirth of her second child, and from then on, Madilov lost interest in state affairs and wandered aimlessly.

It was during that time that King Salesio of Levanteia—now sitting in front of me—prepared his invasion step by step and achieved a great victory.

“Alisa, how old are these Dvorka princes?”

“By now… the oldest should be around thirty-five, the youngest about twenty. I think the fourth prince onward was unmarried, but they could have wed after moving to Pardon Island—you’d need to check again.”

To match their ages, the bride would need to be around the king’s granddaughter’s age.

Which royal women of marriageable age were available?

The crown prince, Daimon, had a twenty-year-old daughter, and Prince Felipe’s daughter had just celebrated her coming-of-age.

Choosing which granddaughter to send would be the king’s decision.

His gaze slowly curved into a crescent shape as he looked at me.

He stepped closer and reached out to pat my bangs.

The gesture—like soothing a seven-year-old—gave me a slight sense of discomfort, but I endured it with a smile.

“As expected, Alisa, you are my first grandchild. I’m glad I spared the Dvorka royals, just as you advised.”

The king smiled kindly, the satisfied look of a predator after a good meal.

Though he looked like a benevolent grandfather, I knew his true nature was that of an old fox.

Whatever scheme was taking shape in that mind of his… I didn’t care to know.

“Ah, I’ll be late for the meeting at this rate. Please excuse me, Your Majesty.”

I had no desire to be scolded by the strict chancellor for tardiness. I quickly bowed to the king and left the office.

Still… why did I feel such an odd sense of unease?

Probably just my imagination.

*

Alisa left the office in quick steps.

The king’s satisfied smile lingered as he stared at the door she had closed behind her.

At that moment, the chamberlain entered quietly from the back door, gauging the king’s mood. Seeing the king content, he felt relieved—it seemed His Majesty had received a satisfactory piece of advice from his granddaughter.

“Your Majesty, did you enjoy your talk with the Young Lady of Lasantia?”

The king’s expression shifted instantly to one full of concern.

“It was useful enough. But I can’t tell who that impudent child takes after. Which family’s son would even take in such a wild colt? Her mother, Emma, wasn’t an easy one either, but she wasn’t quite that bad.”

The king slumped onto the sofa with a sigh.

The chamberlain quietly poured tea into his cup, knowing well that one should never add to the king’s criticism of his kin.

Alisa’s mother was Princess Emma, the king’s firstborn daughter.

She had lost her hearing and speech due to a fever in infancy, communicating only through sign language and lip-reading. Even without words, she was strong-willed and stubborn.

The chamberlain still remembered how fiercely the young princess had gestured in defiance of the king.

Compared to her, Alisa’s defiance was mild—she only seemed stronger because she voiced her thoughts openly.

“Has Your Majesty resolved the matter that was troubling you?” the chamberlain asked respectfully, steering the conversation away.

“She told me to bring over one of Madilov’s sons and set him up as Dvorka’s puppet ruler.”

“…Pardon?”

The chamberlain couldn’t hide his surprise.

“She even suggested I make the boy my grandson-in-law… But since I am the king, I can’t very well give him the title of king. It wouldn’t make sense for the prince of a defeated nation to be crowned king. And if I were to take the crown for myself, I’d have to worry about the neighboring countries’ reactions.”

The chamberlain bowed his head, silently waiting for the king’s next words. Even idle remarks could carry great weight, so one couldn’t respond carelessly.

The king drained his cup in one gulp, letting the warmth settle in his stomach before speaking again.

“I’ve decided—Dvorka will be proclaimed a grand duchy subordinate to Levanteia. I’ll buy one of their princes, give him the title of Grand Duke, and marry him to one of my grandchildren.”

…Was he serious?

The chamberlain felt doubtful.

The king had always regarded the Dvorka royals who fled to Pardon Island as beneath contempt. Now he wanted to bring one back, seat him on a colonial throne, and make him a royal son-in-law?

The chamberlain cautiously looked up and caught a glimpse of it—

The gleam deep in the king’s gray eyes, and the faint, knowing smile curling at his wrinkled lips.

“…If the nobles aren’t worthy enough, perhaps royalty will be.”

A look of delight spread over the king’s face.

Watching that meaningful smile, the chamberlain swallowed dryly.

The king hadn’t named a subject, but his gaze remained fixed on the door his granddaughter had just closed.

“Alisa—she’s the granddaughter who carries my blood. For her husband, he must at least be a ruler of a small state. Yes… a Grand Duchess. Alisa would make a fine Grand Duchess.”

Understanding the king’s intent, the chamberlain began to sweat.

“Your Majesty… Forgive me, but strictly speaking, the young lady is of noble blood, not royal. Sending a woman who doesn’t bear the royal surname into a dynastic marriage is…”

“That royal title is a mere hat—I can always place it on her head.”

The chamberlain sighed inwardly. There was no opening to dissuade him.

The king’s expression was already resolute—everything had been decided.

He had long pressed Alisa to marry but had been wary of tying her to the powerful dukedom of Lasantia, to which she belonged. Since the Dvorka war, the Lasantia Duchy’s influence had grown too strong. To counterbalance that, he had repeatedly proposed suitors from families of lesser standing.

But Alisa had rejected them all.

Today, however, the king had found the perfect match for her—a man of royal blood, soon to receive a high title, but with neither power nor wealth.

The king chuckled inwardly.

Alisa Lasantia—my arrogant granddaughter, whose pride towers above all others.

Until now, you’ve held your head high and refused every offer. But this time, you won’t be able to say no.

You’ll be bound by a treaty between nations.

“With this, I’ll have a loyal vassal state under my feet and a husband for the old maid Alisa. Today, I’ve killed two birds with one arrow.”

“Wahahahaha!”

The king’s hearty laughter filled the office—a triumphant cheer of a man who had just solved two problems at once.