Chapter 45
To Grandfather,
The task you entrusted to me has been completed successfully.
The territory’s people have returned to their homes, and those who had fallen ill have recovered and regained their health.
…(omitted)…
This time, I intend to start a business processing and distributing the raw mana stones we discovered. Since refined mana stones are worth more than twice as much, it should prove profitable.
P.S. Uncle only arrived after I had al.rea.dy finished everything.
The letter ended with a neat little remark pointing out that Gilbert had played no part in the matter.
“Perfect.”
Caliophe smiled in satisfaction and lifted her pen. At once, the paper folded itself neatly into a square note.
Beep—
A messenger bird with violet feathers blinked its eyes at her.
“Take this to Grandfather.”
“Beep.”
The bird caught the note in its beak, flapped its wings lightly, and vanished.
Since it traveled through the mana in the air, it would reach Archibald in the blink of an eye.
“I only hope he takes care of his health while he’s away.”
When Calliope had arrived in the capital the previous day, Archibald had already left the estate. His destination was the southern region of Altesion.
For years, drought had plagued the empire, wreaking havoc on its food supplies.
The southern provinces, struck hardest by the swarms of locusts, were in dire straits.
“They say starvation grew so unbearable that uprisings even broke out…”
Archibald had departed after an urgent summons, carrying food aid to the south.
Thankfully, unlike his sudden departure last time, this time he had brought with him a mana stone linked to a messenger bird, so he could receive her messages at any moment.
“If he’s gone as far as the south, he won’t be back before the New Year’s banquet.”
I’d better make preparations in case additional aid is needed.
With that thought, Calliope tugged the bell cord.
As if waiting for the signal, Sylvia came in with a bright smile.
“You’ll want to wash up first, won’t you, my lady?”
“Yes.”
Calliope lived by a steady routine; she almost never ate before washing. Exceptions were rare and only when unavoidable.
She quickly washed and then sat down to a simple, prepared meal.
She always ate food light on the stomach yet enough to fuel her body for the day—one of her steadfast principles for maintaining her health.
A few spoonfuls of fragrant soup spread warmth through her empty stomach. She neatly finished a salad of fresh tomatoes, arugula, and olives, and sampled a perfectly grilled salmon.
And suddenly, she thought of her partner.
“What about His Highness the Prince?”
Having only arrived in the capital late the previous night, Leraize had spent the night at the count’s residence.
“He had breakfast early and went straight to the training grounds!”
“Eating and then moving around right away? Doesn’t that upset his stomach? I’d feel like dying.”
“Well, he is a Sword Master. Maybe his body works differently from ours?”
“No, Lady Sylvia. Human stomachs are all built the same. No one has two stomachs.”
Agnes had slipped in at some point to make her correction, but Sylvia wouldn’t back down.
“But people’s stomach sizes can differ, right?”
“That doesn’t explain why his doesn’t hurt.”
Watching the two bicker, Calliope shook her head and turned back to her plate.
The salmon’s especially fresh today.
She was just about to spear a piece with her fork when—
“My lady.”
What is it today? One after another, everyone seems to be dropping by.
She looked at Harold, wondering what he wanted.
“It concerns His Highness the Prince. Shall I report after your meal?”
“No, speak now.”
Harold promptly delivered his report.
“His Highness requested five servings of T-bone steak for lunch.”
“…Five servings?”
Calliope narrowed her brows.
“It seems breakfast did not quite satisfy him.”
“What did he eat—what did he have for breakfast?”
“Exactly what you ate, my lady. Only about four times as much.”
That’s… an outrageous amount, isn’t it?
Calliope hadn’t even managed to finish her own portion.
“Taking his status as a Sword Master into account, we prepared generously, but it seems it was still insufficient. I fear His Highness might find it unfair and take offense.”
His words were polite, but the meaning was clear: he was worried the Seventh Prince might cause a fuss over being underfed.
“His Highness has a broader heart than he appears. Don’t trouble yourself over it. Just prepare the steak as he asked.”
“Yes, my lady. As you command.”
After Harold left, Sylvia exclaimed in genuine awe.
“His Highness the Seventh Prince is such a glutton! How can his body still look so… inhuman?”
“Indeed. With the way he eats, half his body ought to be fat.”
Listening to Sylvia and Agnes chatter, Calliope mused,
Does everything he eats just turn straight into muscle…?
She found herself oddly envious and smacked her lips in secret.
The imperial palace—where every rumor in the empire gathered and festered.
Naturally, whispers of Leraize and Calliope spread there faster than anywhere else.
Even the Crown Prince’s palace was abuzz.
“What nonsense is this?”
Crown Prince Lucius’s voice was low and hard after hearing the report.
“Rumors that the two of them are unusually close? And what else—Calliope Verdi’s partner for the New Year’s banquet is that bastard’s child?”
They even say they went on a trip together, like newlyweds!
At the Prince’s cold tone, the informant flinched. The attendants nearby also bowed as low as possible, avoiding eye contact with their master.
“I must see my mother.”
Fortunately for them, Lucius rose abruptly and strode to the Empress’s quarters.
A lady-in-waiting rushed ahead to announce his arrival. Moments later, the doors opened, and the Empress’s gentle voice drifted out.
“Come in, my son.”
Lucius entered and bowed.
“Mother.”
At her gesture, the waiting maids quietly withdrew. Alone with him, Empress Tanesia seated her son and asked,
“Your expression is troubled. Tell your mother what weighs on you.”
“You must have heard the reports as well.”
At his words, Tanesia let out a soft sigh.
“So that trifling gossip has managed to unsettle my son’s heart.”
“It is not trifling, Mother,” Lucius said bitterly.
“At this rate, Calliope Verdi will fall into that bastard’s hands.”
His voice carried unhidden displeasure. Tanesia gently reproached him.
“My son, how many times have I told you? You must not wear your thoughts and emotions on your face.”
Though her tone was still soft, Lucius stiffened. But remembering he was taught never to demean himself, he quickly composed his expression again.
“But Mother, what if Calliope Verdi inherits the countship? What then?”
When Calliope had announced in the papers her search for a husband, Lucius had deliberately refrained from responding.
If he were to take her as Crown Princess, she could not first inherit the border count title.
So he had sabotaged her prospects instead—encouraging unworthy men to propose, while pressuring any capable ones so they wouldn’t dare try.
And now… all of it may have been for nothing.
“If she marries Leraize, she’ll automatically succeed as the Border Count.”
It was true that in the empire’s history, a Crown Princess or Empress had occasionally held a separate noble title. But Lucius had never even considered that possibility.
“I understand what troubles you. But there is no need for worry.”
Tanesia clasped her son’s hand and smiled serenely.
“Calliope Verdi will never inherit her family’s title.”
