Chapter 18
The interior of the Knights’ Training Grounds resembled a circular arena straight out of a European adventure novel. Rows of tiered seats surrounded the round training field.
“Where is the Knight Commander?” Karin asked, grabbing the nearest knight she could find.
“What business do you have with the Commander?”
“I have something to discuss. Just tell me where she is.”
“She stepped out somewhere for a moment. Wait over there. I’ll let her know when she returns.”
The knight pointed toward a tent set up at one side of the training grounds.
“By the way, who might you be?”
“My name is Karin, princess of the Second Duchy.”
“And I am Arkenas, aide to Duke Lucas.”
“Oh my… such distinguished guests. If you wait a little while, she’ll be here shortly.”
Scratching the back of his head awkwardly, the knight led Karin and Arken into the tent.
Arken quietly moved to a corner.
“I’ll observe from the sidelines.”
“Fine by me.”
After all, he was on Duke Lucas’s side. If he stepped in and interfered at the wrong moment, it could ruin everything. Karin readily agreed.
A short while later, a woman with ash-gray bangs swept long across the left side of her face entered the tent. Her expression was stern and unapproachable.
“What is it?”
Not Who are you? Not What do you want? Just What is it?
Karin forced a bitter smile. This conversation clearly wasn’t going to be easy.
“I am Karin, princess of the Second Duchy, and this is—”
“What is your business?”
Marta cut her off.
For someone of lower rank than Karin, it was an extraordinarily rude attitude. Yet Karin said nothing.
She already knew Marta was like this.
Marta was famous for interrupting and ignoring nobles without hesitation. The aristocracy considered her a thorn in their side, but she was also the person who had contributed the most during Esmeril’s last war.
Countless soldiers owed their lives to Marta. The common people adored her, and that immense public support was the reason the nobles couldn’t touch her.
“I’ve come to propose a deal.”
Karin kept her answer brief.
“A deal.”
Marta pulled her sheathed sword from her waist and slammed it against the ground with a heavy thud. Then she pointed toward the tent flap.
“I don’t make deals.”
“Wait!”
Karin cried out in alarm, but Marta ignored her completely.
“People who come all the way here usually fall into one of two categories. Either they need the strength of the Knights, or they look down on swordsmen and think they can use us.”
Marta glanced once at Karin, then at Arken standing beside her.
“You seem to belong to the second category.”
She’s annoyingly accurate…
Karin felt a twinge of guilt. But there was no way she was backing down now.
“At least hear what you stand to gain!”
Marta was merciless.
She didn’t even attempt to listen.
“You would be wise to leave before I count to three. One. Two…”
Instead, she began counting.
Karin’s mouth went dry.
She couldn’t be thrown out after coming all this way.
Part of this was for Iris, but if she wanted to wipe that smug confidence off Duke Lucas’s face, she had to get through this.
What should she say first?
Then it hit her.
Yes. That.
Rather than leaving the tent, Karin casually asked,
“Things have been difficult lately, haven’t they? The Knights’ budget was slashed pretty heavily.”
It was information she had learned while attending a recent council meeting.
The nobles had decided to cut the Knights’ operating budget instead of reducing their numbers.
Even from the brief explanation she had heard, the amount cut had been substantial. The Knights must have been struggling because of it.
“…Three.”
Marta gripped the pommel of her sword as if she were about to draw it.
“You want to replace all those rusting swords and suits of armor too, but all the people upstairs ever say is that there’s no money.”
That was something Karin had learned from the novel.
Marta’s hand moved from the pommel to the hilt.
“And that’s not all. You’ve been waiting for mithril imports from Radian, but it’s been years without any news. Ah, mithril. Such a magnificent metal. Sharp, durable, and when properly forged, capable of piercing ordinary steel with ease…”
The hand gripping the sword suddenly stopped.
Everything Karin had just said came from conversations she had seen between Marta and the other knights in the original story.
“…Though the price is admittedly a bit steep.”
That was the key point.
Karin crossed her legs and smiled confidently.
“You seem to know quite a bit about the Knights’ circumstances.”
Marta finally appeared willing to listen—
“Are you a spy from Saraha?”
—only to immediately suspect Karin of being an enemy spy.
Karin nearly exploded.
“If I were a spy, would I still be standing here? I’d have taken the information and run back to my country already! Anyway, if you work with us, we might be able to restore the Knights’ budget to its original level. Maybe even increase it. And of course, we’d secure mithril too.”
For the first time, the rigid expression on Marta’s face softened ever so slightly.
Seeing it, Karin gained confidence.
Marta couldn’t help being tempted.
Equipping the entire order with mithril weapons and armor had long been her dream.
Why didn’t she simply attend council meetings herself and advocate for mithril imports?
Because Marta…
was hopelessly incapable of expressing herself in front of the person she liked.
Marta and the King were trapped in a classic mutual-pining situation. Each loved the other while believing their feelings were unrequited.
Even in the original story, they never ended up together.
A tragic side couple.
Yet they cared deeply for one another. Marta would do anything the King asked of her, and the King was much the same.
The problem was that neither of them liked asking favors from the other.
They didn’t want to burden one another.
As a result, Marta found it difficult to tell the King directly what she wanted.
Indirectly, however—with someone else’s help—was another matter.
“What do you want from me?”
At last.
She had taken the bait.
Karin answered immediately.
“I want you to attend the State Council meeting and oppose the construction of the annex. You don’t even have to argue. Just say two words: It’s wasteful.”
