Chapter 7
Do I really have to get married?
After all, I am the head of the Lasantia Ducal family. If they want an heir, it shouldn’t matter whose child it is.
Just the thought of someone binding me under the title of husband already feels suffocating.
Why… is there not a single person I want to keep close to me? It’s not like I’m asking for much.
Clack. Clack.
Leaning my chin on the shaking carriage window frame, I looked up at the sky. It was so carelessly blue and deep that a long sigh escaped naturally.
“Lady Alisa, are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?”
Katarina, the maid sitting across from me, asked, watching my mood carefully.
“Not exactly comfortable. It’s been just a while since I endured my grandfather’s nagging, and now it’s time to go listen to my mother’s scolding.”
Right after the Privy Council meeting, I crossed over to our estate in Dvorka, Blansk. While inspecting the fields to check if the sowing had gone well, I was summoned by my mother’s stern call.
Apparently, the 29th birthday banquet must be held in the family estate.
So, the carriage I’m in now is heading toward Lasant.
The carriage finally entered the outskirts of Lasant. Outside the window, the colorless mines stretched endlessly. I nodded off in the monotonous and boring scenery but was jolted awake repeatedly by the booming blasts of the rocky mountains.
The eastern mining district, rich not only with high-quality veins but overflowing like a bottomless treasure chest.
This area has been ruled by my father’s family, the Lasantia Dukes, for generations.
Until about 20 years ago, gold and sapphires were the main mining products, but now the amount of Lasantium, an explosive mineral used in weapons, overwhelmingly surpasses them.
The reputation of Levanteia as a treasure trove has long faded, and now Lasant is called Levanteia’s largest powder keg.
Our family, having switched from jewelers to weapons merchants, has made a fortune from wartime demands. After the war, we began selling improved Lasantium for mining blasting purposes, and recently even started exporting non-lethal versions. Thanks to that, money flows in just by breathing.
Since my father fell ill, my mother has been ruling Lasant as the acting lord.
Originally, as the young duke, it should be my duty, but while I represent the family externally, I have not been granted ruling rights over Lasant itself.
“…Because mother says I’m not good enough.”
In noble society, my mother’s regency, bypassing me the young duke, is taken for granted.
They say a young inexperienced daughter shouldn’t inherit the estate too early. In the marriage market, I’m treated like an old corpse, but in terms of ruling the estate, I’m treated like a child.
Am I some sort of incapacitated minor? There were times I was so frustrated I could go crazy, but now it doesn’t bother me.
Sometimes I’m even grateful. While my mother skillfully manages the family assets, I have been able to focus on rebuilding Blansk, which was devastated by war.
Though mother seems displeased, calling it “playing country lord in a colonial backwater.”
The carriage entered the castle grounds. When I stuck my head out the window, I could see the mansion in the distance.
The Lasantia Ducal Mansion. Around this time, near the end of spring, it is called the Rose Palace because the climbing roses covering the outer walls bloom profusely. Around the outer walls, piles of fallen red petals from the drooping flowers look like mountains. Some call it a beautiful view, but to me it just looks like flowing blood, and it’s disgusting.
Ah, the nickname “palace” for a noble family’s mansion is because the lady of the house is royal.
“You’ve arrived just on time, Young Duke. Her Highness the Princess is waiting.”
As I got off the carriage, Mother’s maid Agatha greeted me warmly. Even after marrying into the Lasantia Ducal family, mother insisted on maintaining the princess title.
I never asked why. I just guess it’s because she wants to emphasize her identity as the daughter of King Salesio rather than just the wife of the Duke of Lasantia.
Following Agatha, I entered mother’s office.
Mother was discussing family business with the secretary and treasurer, accompanied by a sign language interpreter. When I made my presence known at the doorway, mother immediately dismissed them.
[You have come.]
With a dry hand gesture, she pointed to the sofa opposite her.
I bowed once, then raised my hand to respond silently in sign language.
“I have returned, Mother.”
[You already know why I summoned you.]
Mother’s expression was sterner than usual. A breeze blew through the open window behind her, lightly scattering her red hair. Even though it was exactly the same shade as mine, I couldn’t explain why it felt so strange.
“Speak, Mother.”
She hates backtalk, so I just let her say what she wants.
[Your effort in turning a ruined slum from the war into a somewhat livable village is acknowledged.]
Mother made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, then flipped her wrist outward, showing her palm.
…It’s a gesture meaning “acknowledged.”
Am I seeing things? I silently watched her delicate fingertips until she finished signing.
It was her recognition, something she was once so thirsty to give. But maybe because I had given up long ago, I didn’t feel especially happy. I also anticipated what would come next.
[Leave Blansk to the proxy now. How long do you plan to keep investing your personal fortune into an unprofitable colonial backwater? You’ve lost more than you gained. You wasted both money and time, even missing your chance to marry.]
Mother never ends a speech nicely when it starts out positive. Whenever she begins with a compliment, it inevitably ends with criticism or blame.
I slightly grabbed the hem of my jacket. A thin sweat emerged. Outside the Rose Palace, I am second only to fierce in toughness, but in front of mother I become a powerless lamb.
“…If you mean I should find a marriage partner, I will carefully observe those who come to the birthday banquet.”
I sighed again, knowing exactly what kind of people would come. I’d roughly entertain the sons of bothersome noble families, and invite my military school friends separately for a drunken night.
Mother spread her hand with fingers outward and made a square shape—a sign for “box.”
[You’d better start by looking through the twenty marriage proposals piling up in your mailbox.]
“Haha, more have come while I was away?”
[There are over twenty. By the way, it seems my father has prepared a sincere gift for his beloved granddaughter.]
“The King… has a gift for me?”
I just stared blankly at my elegant mother’s royal gesture.
Mother signing looks like a puppeteer moving a marionette or a harp player. Just the movement of her fingertips can freely manipulate a person’s heart.
[You have received a royal decree from the King’s name. Read it.]
A royal decree is an official document written and sealed by the king to notify someone.
It’s a letter from my grandfather to his granddaughter, but why use such a formal document?
While I stood blankly, Maid Agatha brought a scroll wrapped in red silk and handed it to me.
Mother gestured for me to open it quickly.
I took a deep breath and unrolled the scroll.
“My beloved granddaughter Alisa,
I have prepared a gift for your 29th birthday.
You, the only daughter of my eldest daughter and the first grandchild I ever held in my arms…
I hereby bestow upon you the official status of a royal descendant.
Beyond the honor of being the daughter of a high noble family, you shall be treated and recognized with the authority befitting a royal lady representing the Kingdom of Levanteia.”
As I read, only one thought came to me:
“Why? Why bother?”
The status of a royal descendant is totally unnecessary to me. It’s only given to the king’s own grandchildren; what use do I have for it? Though I’d gain royal succession rank, legally I wouldn’t even be in the top ten.
Is it that because I’m a princess’s daughter, they want to treat me as such? If so, why wait until almost thirty instead of since birth?
“I can see your confused face as you read this.
The true meaning of this message will probably become clear at your birthday banquet.
I will attend the banquet in person.
I have made my decision.
To you, who inherited the red hair of the royal family and the wisdom of my daughter Princess Emma…
I will grant you the most beautiful prize among my spoils.
I hope you will accept the gift my old grandfather has carefully prepared.
Looking forward to seeing you dressed more beautifully than anyone else at the banquet, I shall end this letter here.”
After finishing, I muttered aloud:
“I don’t even know what it is yet, but I already don’t want to accept it. What a burdensome person.”
I muttered openly, but thankfully my mouth was hidden behind the parchment, so mother couldn’t see.
I rolled the parchment back up, tucked it under my arm, bowed again to mother, and went upstairs to my room.
As soon as I changed clothes, I collapsed on the bed.
My mind is a mess. I came home and suddenly, for no reason, I became a royal descendant.
What is the King’s intention? He always acts cleverly after calculating gains and losses.
If he is willing to issue a royal decree and give something so important, then he must be taking something far more valuable from me.
Is he going to take the Lasantium mines registered under my name?
“Ah, I don’t know. Whatever he gives, I’ll just refuse.”
I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes.
