~Chapter 8~
He proposed because she told him to, but she slammed the door and refused.
For Emperor Carmine, it was a humiliation he had never imagined. He hadn’t proposed out of true feelings, but being rejected still made anger and frustration rise in him.
“What’s wrong with me?”
A man praised all his life for being handsome and impressive felt a shocking blow for the first time.
Anyway, Carmine, who had gone down to the village with five knights, came rushing back to the lord’s castle.
Aurelian, who ended up greeting him again, tilted her head.
“Your Majesty?”
“I’ll be in your care again, madam.”
“I don’t mind, but… I thought you’d carry Riena off to the capital right away.”
“I was completely caught up in her pace.”
Aurelian had expected the Emperor to grab Riena—sword and all—and head straight to the capital. In the worst case, she even thought he might cut off her hand to take the sword.
But, unexpectedly, the Emperor looked a little dazed. When Aurelian blinked, not sure what happened, Carmine ran a hand through his hair and answered:
“That bold young lady told me the only legal way for her to own the sword is through marriage, so she told me to propose.”
“What?!”
Aurelian knew Riena was cheeky, but she never imagined Riena would tell the Emperor himself to propose.
“Maybe she said that because she doesn’t know he’s the Emperor?”
Would she have acted the same even if she knew? Aurelian thought it was very possible.
When she imagined Riena speaking so firmly to the Emperor—and the Emperor’s surely flustered face—Aurelian couldn’t help but smile. In a softer, amused tone, she asked:
“And then?”
“There’s nothing more to say. I proposed, and she slammed the door saying she refused.”
“Oh my.”
Aurelian burst into laughter. She could clearly picture how Riena had snubbed him. Even when Duke Pond completely turned his back on her and she had nothing, Riena still refused lowly subcontract work and always spoke her mind.
“She really is a daring girl.”
“As you say.”
Then Carmine muttered, grinding his lips:
“…I can’t possibly go back like this. My pride won’t allow it.”
“Oh my.”
Thinking of the Emperor’s dignity, Aurelian didn’t say more, but inside she thought:
“This is getting interesting.”
Two young people of marriageable age getting tangled up—this was a rare sight in a remote place like Forstine.
Was it too rash to feel a rosy premonition? Even so, the smile didn’t leave Aurelian’s lips.
“Maybe spring is finally coming.”
Aurelian, who kept up with news, knew far more about her grandchild than Carmine guessed.
Obsessive cleanliness, numbness, cold rationality.
Those were words used to describe Carmine. He had walked a fixed path since childhood; it was already fortunate he wasn’t intoxicated with being “born noble.”
“Life is much more interesting than that.”
And Riena—though raised as a duke’s daughter—had grown sweet potatoes from bare ground and become a big farmer: ambitious and positive.
“I’m rooting for her,” Aurelian thought.
For two days, I (Riena) stayed shut in at home to avoid the suspiciously handsome blond man who was after Louis (my sword).
On the night going into the third day, I had a dream. In the dream, a mountain-spirit grandpa appeared and gave me a quiz.
—“Yellow, fluffy, and sweet—what is it?”
What could it be~?
Falling out of bed with a crash, I answered in a dazed voice:
“Pumpkin…!!”
Yellow, fluffy, and sweet! Of course, pumpkin.
“Ah, I want to slice lots of pumpkin and make knife-cut noodles with it.”
Just one slurp—warm, filling, and so tasty. Sweet pumpkin mixed into a salty broth—heavenly.
While I drooled thinking of pumpkin noodles, Louis, who accidentally fell out of bed with me, spoke in a shocked voice:
—“Whoa, you scared me! Master, what on earth is going on?”
What do you mean, what? I jumped up.
“Today is the day, my sword. Time to defeat all enemies and enjoy the joy of harvest!”
—“Ohhh, you finally decided! To sweep away your enemies with me?”
“Exactly!”
I washed my face with the water I had set aside, neatly braided my red hair, pulled a straw hat down to shade my face, and tied a triangular cloth around my neck so it wouldn’t burn. Louis grumbled:
—“Master, for going to the battlefield, that outfit is much too shabby.”
“No, it’s perfect.”
I pulled on gloves, grabbed Louis tightly, and looked at him seriously.
“My sword, may I share with you the joy of harvest?”
—“J-joy of harvest? I know that well. You mean cutting off enemies’ heads and lining them along the wall.”
That kind of “harvest” is scary. I forced my stiffening lips into a smile and shrugged.
“For that, I need your help with something—something very, very important.”
—“What? What? Just say it, Master! Louis Garbon Bontuiar can do anything!”
So simple, this sword. I grinned and told him:
“To harvest, you have to change shape. I can’t harvest with a long sword.”
—“Huh? A longsword is best for slicing necks. There’s a reason swords rule the world. With your arm strength, you can’t even lift a spear.”
“Yes, yes, I always listen to you. But like you said, I’m weak, so even swinging a sword is hard.”
—“Well, you’re not that weak…”
This sword! The way he talks!
Anyway, I needed Louis. I whispered into his “ear”:
“The handle should be like this, and the blade like this…”
What I wanted to turn Louis into was…
A small pair of garden scissors used for picking crops!
—“I hate you, Master. You’re a scammer.”
Louis complained endlessly. I patted the back of his blade and comforted him.
“That’s life. Close your eyes and the world cuts off your nose.”
—“Don’t say that when you did the scamming!!”
Louis howled. Whatever. I squeezed the handles and snipped off a pumpkin stem.
“Wow, it usually doesn’t cut this clean, but the blade must be good.”
With Louis now a pair of scissors, I headed to our backyard. Pumpkins grow well even with little care, so people plant them in spare ground near home.
“With just a bit of fertilizer, you get lots of sweet pumpkins like this.”
The pumpkins were as big as a head and heavy. I rolled them together into one spot, and Louis started yelling again:
—“Those compliments don’t make me happy! Ugh, it’s sticky. Something’s oozing!”
“Just deal with it. You used to drip with blood, and now you freak out at plant sap?”
—“That’s different!”
Different how? Personally, I think plant juice is more constructive than human blood.
It had already been quite a while since I started living with the noisy sword called Louis Garbon Bontuiar. It also meant I’d had enough time to get used to his chatter.
I kept snipping pumpkins without reacting to him, and after a while of grumbling, Louis pouted:
—“Ugh, you’re the first woman to treat me so roughly.”
I’d heard that line somewhere before. I grimaced and replied:
“Don’t fall for me.”
—“W-what nonsense! What do you take the great Louis Garbon Bontuiar for! A woman like you isn’t even my type!”
“An inanimate object has a type?”
—“The way you treat me is too much!”
Even as Louis and I bickered, my hands didn’t stop. I must have neglected the pumpkins recently, because many were ready to harvest. When I’d cut about thirty, a big hand picked up the pumpkin I had just snipped.
“Should I carry these over there?”
“Uh…”
That voice tickled my ears the moment I heard it. I widened my eyes and turned.
“So bright!”
He was already dazzling, but with the sunlight behind him he shone even more. I covered my eyes with my hand.
“You’re showing destructive power again today, Mr. Carmine.”
“Destructive power?”
“It’s a thing.”
It destroys my heart and my guard, you know.
But aside from his looks, Carmine’s posture was clumsy. He looked like he might drop the pumpkin any second.
“Oh dear. He must have only done paperwork.”
But why was a white-collar guy so fit? Broad shoulders, bulging arm muscles…
“He must manage himself well.”
My self-care was just wearing a straw hat so my face wouldn’t burn and gloves so my hands wouldn’t get hurt.
Just as I was sneaking glances at Carmine, he was sneaking glances at me. Then, sounding like he hardly believed it, he pointed with his chin at the scissors in my hand.
“That thing you’re holding… don’t tell me… is that the Ego Sword?”
