CHAPTER 22………..
. A Prodigy of the Face-Loving World
“Your Majesty the Queen, I have brought everything you ordered.”
“Well done, Millie.”
Inside the thick envelope Millie handed over were portraits of all the children under the age of ten who belonged to the noble families of the Kingdom of Fritan.
I carefully examined each one.
“My, my… without exception, they’re all boys.”
Some still had their baby fat, looking adorably childlike, while others had unexpectedly dignified and sturdy appearances for their age.
“This one, this one—look at those sharp eyes. That’s the face of someone destined to break many young ladies’ hearts. You pass!”
“Your Majesty the Queen!!”
Millie, standing beside me, scolded sharply.
“These are children not even ten years old yet. Isn’t it inappropriate to judge their looks already? Why exactly are you looking for handsome young boys?”
“To introduce Violet to jewel-like friends of her age. That way, she won’t ever even glance at some much older king in the future.”
Millie’s expression was nothing short of dumbfounded.
“Are you worried that when Lady Violet grows up, she might fall for Prince Mikloc?”
“Better safe than sorry. There’s no harm in preparing ahead.”
Pretending not to notice Millie’s exasperation, I relied on my sharp ‘face radar’ to pick out five portraits—boys who looked like they’d grow up well without changing for the worse.
“Soon I’ll host a party at the Queen’s Palace for all the noble boys and girls under ten. I’ll send invitations to everyone, but Violet’s seat will be guarded in turn by these five. Surely one of them will catch her eye?”
Smiling wickedly, I waved the portraits of the boys with great satisfaction.
“Your Majesty, the Duchess of Zenon and Lady Violet Zenon request an audience.”
Sophie came to announce their visit.
I quickly went to the drawing room where they waited, and Violet immediately threw herself into my skirts.
“Greetings to Your Majesty the Queen~”
“Oh, Violet! Have you forgotten all your manners?”
The Duchess of Zenon scolded her daughter in dismay, but Violet just clung tightly to my hand and hid behind me. I smiled and stopped the duchess from scolding her further.
“It’s quite all right, Duchess.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty. I’ll teach her again.”
When the duchess sighed and gave up nagging, I sat Violet on my lap and showed her the carefully chosen portraits one by one.
“Look, Violet. Aren’t these big brothers so handsome?”
Violet’s bright eyes sparkled as she examined them closely.
“Wow~ this brother is pretty. Oh? And this brother is really handsome!”
Good heavens! She could already distinguish between a ‘pretty boy’ and a ‘handsome boy’? This child was truly a prodigy in the world of face-lovers!
“Violet, do you like pretty big brothers more, or handsome big brothers more?”
“Handsome big brothers!”
Oh~ her preferences were already clear!
“Then, who’s the most handsome person in the world to you, Violet?”
“Prince Mikloc.”
What?!
I had only asked out of curiosity, amazed at her sharp eye, but the little girl actually blushed and answered shyly.
I shouldn’t have let myself get thrown off by a six-year-old, but I was so shocked that I dropped all the portraits onto the floor.
“When did our Violet ever meet Prince Mikloc?”
I smiled awkwardly and looked at the Duchess of Zenon.
“During the New Year’s festival this year. Ever since then, she hasn’t stopped singing about how handsome he is… My brother-in-law and even my husband Mark were so sulky about it.”
Ah… this child’s eye for beauty was frighteningly accurate…
“Then, Violet, will you marry Prince Mikloc when you grow up?”
“No!”
“Why not? He’s the most handsome of all!”
“Because I’m going to marry my daddy.”
Her firm little reply was unbearably sweet, and I hugged her tightly.
I’m sorry, I was wrong~~
“Um, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, Violet?”
“Who’s that boy at the very end?”
“Why? Do you like him?”
“Just a little…”
That’s right, Violet! The world is wide, and there are plenty of handsome men out there.
I quickly gathered up the portraits I’d dropped and laid them out again before her. Violet hugged them to her chest like they were precious treasures.
***
When Mikloc’s Fritan subjugation force had completed over two-thirds of their campaign, they arrived at the Great Geupa Forest, the largest on the continent.
As soon as Mikloc and William, leading the vanguard, raised their right hands, the army halted in unison.
“Will, who are those people lined up at the forest entrance?”
“Not sure. They’re unarmed and holding white flags—it doesn’t look like they intend to attack.”
“Could be a trap.”
Ralph added quietly as he observed the scene.
“Judging by their appearance, they look like Malau tribe.”
“Really?”
“Platinum-blond hair, pale skin, pointed ears—the hallmarks of the demonkin Malau. It’s said that both men and women are exceptionally beautiful. Your Highness, what shall we do?”
“Let’s wait and see.”
As the Fritan forces paused, just as expected, one among those guarding the forest entrance came forward slowly, raising his white flag high.
Once he entered range, Mikloc’s men all raised their bows, arrows aimed squarely at him.
“Halt.”
William shouted, and the man obediently stopped.
“Who are you? Why do you block the army of Fritan?”
“I am Yamal, envoy of the Malau King. I humbly beg forgiveness for the offense of approaching like this, but I bring a letter of peace.”
Yamal, whose hair, face, and even eyebrows were snow-white, lowered his long lashes and spoke politely.
Mikloc studied him, then asked Ralph,
“The Malau King…? They’ve formed a kingdom?”
“Yes. The Malau, who were growing in power, unified the surrounding tribes and proclaimed a kingdom just last year.”
William sneered, never taking his eyes off Yamal.
“Seems the demonkin want to play at being humans.”
Yamal slowly took out a thick envelope from his robes and offered it respectfully.
“It is not only from our Malau Kingdom, but also a peace treaty from five demon tribes in the northeast. We beg for your acceptance.”
William took the treaty and handed it to Mikloc.
As Mikloc read through it, his brows rose slightly at the staggering tribute pledged: vast quantities of magic stones and minerals—more than they usually seized by force.
“The tribute will be delivered at whatever time the Kingdom of Fritan demands.”
“And the conditions?”
“A non-aggression pact with the Malau Kingdom and the northeastern demon alliance, and provision of food for the winter.”
Mikloc read over the treaty again. The terms were favorable. If the pact succeeded, they could halt this campaign and still secure abundant tributes each year without major effort.
But could the demonkin be trusted to honor a contract?
“There must be a reason you offer terms so disadvantageous to yourselves.”
“In truth, unlike humans, demons have little use for magic stones or minerals. What we care about is food to survive the winter. If we are supplied, we will have no reason to raid Fritan’s border villages.”
In an instant, Mikloc drew his sword and pressed it against Yamal’s throat. A trickle of blood stained the envoy’s pale neck as he flinched in fear.
“Enough wordplay. Tell me your king’s true intentions.”
With both hands raised, Yamal didn’t move, and spoke slowly.
“We too heard rumors that the Maon tribe was massacred. As a newborn kingdom, the Malau wish for security through close cooperation with Fritan.”
“The Malau, maybe. But can we trust the demon alliance? What if they break the pact first?”
“Then we shall strike them ourselves. We will not tolerate anything that threatens our kingdom’s safety.”
In other words, the Malau would guarantee the pact on behalf of all five tribes.
That was satisfactory to Mikloc—it meant that if trouble arose, Fritan would only need to punish Malau.
He slowly withdrew his blade.
“And the procedure?”
“If the great King of Fritan signs the treaty, the carts laden with tributes from the alliance will immediately set out for Fritan’s capital.”
William snorted.
“Why is Malau’s own tribute missing? Your Highness, they clearly have some scheme. Better to do what we always do—wipe them out.”
“Let’s hear them out first.”
Mikloc restrained the hot-headed William. At that, Yamal fell to his knees.
“The Malau King wishes to host Your Highness and the knights at Malau Castle tonight. Tomorrow morning, we will send off our tributes in full.”
“And why is that?”
Mikloc’s voice was cold. Yamal lowered his head even further.
“My apologies, but the reason must be heard directly from our king.”
“This reeks of suspicion. Better avoid such a shady deal,” William argued. Ralph and Joseph joined him in opposition. But Mikloc, as if sensing something, asked calmly:
“Does the Malau King have a daughter of marriageable age?”
“P-Pardon? Y-Yes. His eldest, Princess Shine, turned nineteen this year.”
Startled, Yamal’s head snapped up before he quickly bowed again.
The knights too were astonished. Mikloc, interested in a woman other than Queen Lea? Impossible!
But Yamal avoided his gaze, looking guilty.
“So that’s the Malau King’s true scheme. Bold of him, to attempt such a futile ploy.”
The knights exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to understand.
Mikloc signed both copies of the treaty on the spot and handed one back to Yamal.
Yamal smiled in satisfaction, rose, and blew a small horn from his robes. The Malau at the forest entrance erupted in cheers—so their desire for peace hadn’t been false.
“Let us go to Malau Castle. We will ensure utmost hospitality for Your Highness and the knights.”
“No need.”
“…Pardon?”
Yamal blinked in surprise, but Mikloc ignored him and turned to Joseph.
“Only I and one hundred of the Special Knights will go to Malau Castle. Joseph, you will take the rest with the tributes and return directly to Fritan.”
“It could be a trap!”
Joseph protested hotly, but Mikloc glanced at Yamal with chilling eyes.
“Even if it is, it doesn’t matter. We have more than enough to wipe out Malau.”
The offhand remark, spoken with such indifference, finally shattered Yamal’s composure. The killing aura from the war-mad ‘Blood Demon’ Mikloc pressed on his chest like a crushing weight.
Only then did Yamal realize just how terrifying the man before him truly was.
***
“Your Majesty~~~! A letter has arrived from the Haren Empire!”
Millie, who had sneaked away from the training grounds with some excuse or other, came running, waving a letter.
“From Haren? I don’t really know anyone there who’d write to me…”
“Huff, huff… It’s from Master Robbie!”
“Robbie?”
I tore it open in surprise—and the contents shocked me even more.
“Millie, Robbie says he’s coming here to see me.”
“The young master himself?”
Millie’s eyes went round with astonishment, no less shocked than I was.
