Chapter 59

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 59

Chapter Title: Lechen's Mad Dog

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"Congratulations on your marriage."

The one who kicked off the meaningless charade was Lars's King Arthur Hartford.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Biern smoothly joined in the act.

A king offering gentle smiles to celebrate his ally's royal wedding, and a prince expressing heartfelt gratitude. Their exchange flowed as naturally as water, perfectly fitting their assigned roles. It was a serene scene that would leave the anxiously waiting ministers of both nations outside the meeting hall feeling utterly deflated.

"Though it's late, I am deeply grateful for the proposal Your Majesty conveyed through Princess Gladys. Even though my wishes differed from yours and I could not accept it, I will never forget that consideration."

Unexpectedly, it was Biern who put the finishing touch on the evasive conversation.

A faint crease formed between King Arthur Hartford's brows as he gazed at the prince who so casually provoked him. His face still wore a polite smile, but Biern's eyes gleamed with undisguised sharpness.

How dare you try to meddle in another kingdom's affairs by parading your illegitimate daughter?

It was a brazen response to the offer of help in reclaiming the lost crown—a warning that he would never forget such overreach.

"You're as sharp as ever, Prince Biern."

King Arthur Hartford, who had been glaring at the prince with displeasure, let out a hollow laugh tinged with resignation. He'd thought time might have softened him, but no. He was the same as back then, when he'd used Gladys as a snare to choke Lars's lifeline.

"I had no intention of toppling Lechen's throne to suit my whims. I know full well that the wolves of Dynister are no easy foes. I merely wished to lend aid if it aligned with Lechen's will—as atonement for siring such a worthless daughter."

"I believe Your Majesty's sincerity. And I trust you now clearly understand what Lechen's will truly is."

"Biern."

King Arthur Hartford's sigh stretched on long. It was the first moment of raw honesty since their secret meeting began.

"I fully understand your reluctance to take Gladys back as your wife. But setting personal feelings aside and thinking rationally, I believed restoring you to the crown prince position would be best for both our nations. Even if things have turned out this way."

"Even if Leonit ascends the throne, the friendly relations between our nations will remain unchanged, Your Majesty. My younger brother will be a moderate and thoughtful king, so hasn't the risk of upheaval diminished instead?"

"You really seem to have no lingering attachment to the crown at all."

"If I did, I wouldn't have relinquished it."

Biern smiled as if relieved. King Arthur Hartford's gaze narrowed as he scrutinized the prince, who hid his cunning nature behind that carefree facade.

Lechen's mad dog has returned.

That was the general assessment from other kingdoms regarding Crown Prince Biern Dynister, who had begun to make his mark.

Lechen's mad dog.

It was the nickname of his great-grandfather—hailed as the great conqueror king in Lechen but an enemy that ground their teeth in hatred everywhere else—Philip II. The wolf banner of Dynister had inspired such terror. Its infamy was still widely recounted to this day.

International politics is a wheel that turns in cycles: this one beats that one down today, and that one strikes back tomorrow. But the consensus was that Lechen's Philip II was a rogue who went too far. Lars had been one of the kingdoms most painfully bitten by that mad dog.

Of course, there had been a time when Lars was more prosperous and powerful than Lechen. The battle in which Lars's cavalry charged into Lechen's heartland and forced the king's surrender had long been a point of pride for Lars, used to look down on the Lechen people. That faded into distant memory after the mad dog's naval fleet sank the combined armada of Lars and two other nations. What made that sea battle especially humiliating for Lechen was their numerical disadvantage in ships. Philip II had personally commanded it—a victory that laid the foundation for the young king, not yet thirty, to rise as the continent's conqueror.

Once the mad dog pacified the continent, peace returned.

It was a reluctant acceptance born of being thoroughly beaten into submission, but the continent stabilized nonetheless. Industry and civilization flourished, ushering in an era of prosperity.

Fortunately, the light of civilization had dawned even on the wolves of Dynister, and Philip II's descendants ruled with moderation unlike their ancestor. But the nations of the continent, ever anxious about when those fangs might bare again, scrambled to form the strongest alliance through marriage ties. Thus, when Gladys was selected as Lechen's crown princess, Lars's sense of triumph and pride pierced the heavens. All the more so because her counterpart was Crown Prince Biern Dynister, dubbed the mad dog's reincarnation.

He was still a young crown prince who hadn't yet opened his era, but the glimpses of his temperament were unmistakably his great-grandfather's. A conqueror. A coldly mad dog. It was no wonder the entire continent—Lechen excepted—breathed a collective sigh of relief when Biern stepped down over the incident with Gladys.

King Arthur Hartford shook off his reverie with a deep sigh and nodded.

"To be frank, Biern, if I can't restore you as my son-in-law and place you on the throne, it's far better for Lars if you remain a prince kept away from power."

"Then we've arrived at the best outcome for both sides."

"The best? Is this truly the best for you and Lechen as well?"

Biern met his doubting gaze with a light, beaming smile. Not a trace of regret, yet his great-grandfather's temperament still flickered in his eyes.

"It's a turbulent era, Your Majesty. One where we must balance fierce waves of reform against old orders within, and keep the precarious scales of peace from tipping outside. An age that calls for negotiators, not conquerors."

"So you're saying you lack the confidence to be a ruler fit for that role, hence passing the crown to your brother?"

"Anyone could become such a ruler if they set their mind to it. And I know full well that the crown bestowed upon me isn't light enough to be handed off carelessly."

Biern gazed out the meeting hall's window for a moment before speaking calmly.

"But Lechen has someone who perfectly matches its worth, someone who can lead that era to greatest glory. As for me, I simply don't wish to devote my one and only life to values that clash with my own."

"Then what is the value that you, with no attachment to the crown, wish to devote yourself to?"

"Probably... something like living idly forever, feasting in leisure."

In a private audience with a kingdom's king, King Arthur Hartford stared blankly at the impudent prince spouting such nonsense and burst into laughter.

"A truly beautiful value. Is buying up Lars's banks part of that pastime?"

"It's an honor that Your Majesty takes interest even in a wastrel prince's hobbies."

"Hobbies, you say."

"Yes. I hear Lars's Prince Alexander recently acquired a fine Lechen steed as well."

Biern's brazen equating of a prince's hobby purchase with his own ambitions to merge Lars's banks drew another laugh from him.

"Leonit knows well the price both nations paid to secure this alliance."

Biern slowly raised his eyes to meet his.

"So have no fears, Your Majesty. This alliance will hold firm without marriage ties, and it will endure through Leonit's reign. This I promise upon the honor of Dynister."

Sunlight filtering into the meeting hall settled upon the young prince standing tall. King Arthur Hartford watched him quietly, letting out a soft sigh as he nodded. Realizing what his foolish daughter had lost deepened his regret inevitably.

"Then shall we open that door now?"

Biern gestured toward the meeting hall door with a smile returning to his eyes.

"Lechen's ministers must be fretting themselves sick, wondering if the troublesome prince will earn a lashing from the furious King of Lars."

"Since you've claimed the role of troublemaker, why not let those rumors spread as well?"

He responded to the prince's playful remark in kind. Biern furrowed his brow as if troubled.

"That might be going too far. Please consider I'm on my honeymoon, Your Majesty."

Meeting his gaze directly, Biern naturally reminded him of his marriage.

Having cast aside even his last lingering hopes, King Arthur Hartford chuckled heartily and posed a question born of pure curiosity.

"I understand your intentions well, Prince. But what on earth prompted you to go through with such a marriage? Just how extraordinary is your bride?"

Karen let out a silent sigh as she rubbed her stiff neck.

The Grand Duchess, seated at the desk, had been reciting Lechen's noble directory for hours already. Thanks to that, Karen was stuck attending her without a moment's rest. This house is how? That house is what? The relentless barrage of questions had her head throbbing.

"Sorry, Karen. You must be exhausted."

A quiet smile graced the Grand Duchess's face as she checked her complexion.

"Not at all, Your Highness. I'm merely doing my duty."

Karen gave her rote response mechanically. But her gaze toward Erna brimmed with undisguised disapproval. Even Princess Greta, the youngest royal at just twelve, surely knew more than this ignorant Grand Duchess.

"I've heard you've served Biern for many years."

"Yes. Since his days as a young crown prince."

"Mrs. Fitz said the head maid is exceedingly loyal. I think so too."

Karen's eyes narrowed at Erna, who kept stringing together pointless words.

"May I ask what you're getting at, Your Highness?"

"It means I understand you might disapprove of me as much as you care for and love Biern, Karen."

Erna struck at the heart with piercing words, her face still bearing that gentle smile.

"I know I'm sorely lacking as that man's wife. It must look that way in your eyes too."

"What are you saying..."

"So I'll study even harder. I'll strive to be a Grand Duchess you won't be ashamed of, so please help me. I beg you."

Karen flinched and swallowed dryly.

She wants to play lady of the house despite being utterly useless outside the bedroom.

Though it galled her, she couldn't defy it outright. Swallowing her humiliation, Karen obeyed the command. Satisfied, the Grand Duchess beamed and returned to the noble directory.

The grueling interrogation finally ended as the sun set.

While the Grand Duchess, excited for dinner with her husband, went to change, Karen wrapped her aching head and stepped out for fresh air. It was around then that an urgent message from the prince arrived: business was delayed, so she should eat first.

"Think it'll last half a year like this?"

A maid who heard the news together giggled. Rather than scold the impropriety, Karen joined in the laughter.

"Tell her a bit later."

Karen firmly stopped the maid heading to relay the message to the Grand Duchess.

"Her Highness is changing now. Interrupting like this would be rude."

The maids' laughter spread into the clear evening dusk as they imagined the Grand Duchess's face upon hearing she'd been primped up only to be stood up.

"Huh? Isn't that Jade over there?"

A startled maid grabbed Karen as she turned to leave.

Karen's eyes widened as she followed the girl's pointing finger. Jade, Princess Gladys's maid, was rushing desperately toward her.