Duncan Seymour Tudor had been noble from birth. Had he not voluntarily relinquished the throne, he would have ruled a nation. Even afterward, as Teuton's only duke and its foremost knight, he commanded the respect and affection of countless people.

He was, without question, no man to be playing matchmaker. Had this not concerned the princess he adored, he would never have traveled to a distant foreign country as a mere envoy.

Of course, affection for his niece was not his only reason for accepting the mission.

Once the dominant power in the continent's west, Teuton had lost its former glory and was declining by the day, hemmed in by neighboring nations backed by the Empire. The imperial civil war had eased that pressure somewhat, but the reprieve would not last. At this rate, glorious Teuton was destined to become just another unremarkable western nation.

The Royal House of Tudor had pursued every avenue in search of a way to reverse its fortunes. An alliance with the Leonberk Kingdom was one such avenue, and the reason Duncan Seymour Tudor had traveled so far from home.

Naturally, they had no intention of entering an alliance blindly. First, he had to ascertain whether the Leonberk Kingdom was a worthy ally. That, too, was among the duties the king had entrusted to him.

Duncan examined the kingdom with an unclouded eye. What he found was profoundly disappointing.

The harbor was cramped, with only a handful of ships coming and going each day. The roads were poor and the cities undeveloped. The nobles he met along the way resembled village headmen, and the citizens looked as shabby as slash-and-burn farmers.

It was hard to believe that such a country had won a war against the Empire. The only remotely commendable thing was the fairly impressive bearing of the knights and soldiers sent to greet him. Even that amounted to little beside his own knights and Teuton's elite troops.

Was the Empire weaker than expected, or did the Leonberk Kingdom possess reserves of strength he had yet to discover? He could not tell.

Everywhere he went brought fresh disappointment, but he did not abandon his search. Victory in a war against the rapacious Empire could never have been a mere stroke of luck. Surely there was something he was missing.

Yet throughout his journey across the kingdom, Duncan found nothing. As its reputation suggested, Leonberk was merely an impoverished frontier nation at the continent's northernmost edge. Bitterly disappointed, he even began to question the point of his mission.

But it seemed he had judged far too soon. He realized that the moment he saw the kingdom's knights and soldiers waiting to receive the delegation.

The knights' energy was utterly clear, without a trace of anything sinister. The soldiers' presence, too, was sharp as a blade yet well ordered. They were nothing like the people of Leonberk he had seen thus far.

For the first time, the kingdom interested him.

He unleashed the presence he had kept restrained all this time. His immediate purpose was to test their mettle; more broadly, he meant to demonstrate the gulf between Teuton and Leonberk and secure an advantage in the discussions to come.

Yet the results of that display were decidedly underwhelming. He had succeeded in demonstrating his superior strength, but that was all.

The kingdom's knights showed not the slightest inclination to yield before his overwhelming presence. Only their breathing and their own presence faltered. Even that lasted but a moment.

One female knight whose full suit of steel armor could not conceal her womanly figure, and another knight with an indefinably decadent air, stepped forward. As the kingdom's Quad Knights bore the full brunt of his presence, the other knights regained their composure.

This time, even Duncan could not help feeling a measure of admiration. Their courage in stepping forward without hesitation despite the overwhelming disparity, and the unwavering steadiness of their energy as they faced a presence beyond their ability to withstand, impressed even him.

But it was not the kingdom's Quad Knights who truly won his admiration.

A young man stood beneath the golden lion banner of the Royal House of Leonberk. His attainment as a knight was unimpressive, but his presence alone rivaled that of a Quad Knight. And his energy was so clear, so pure, that Duncan already felt favorably disposed toward him before they had exchanged a word.

Duncan was certain this was the Young Lion of the North whose fame had spread of late. Both his aura and his features were unusually gentle for someone called a lion, but battlefield epithets were simply a matter of what people chose to call a man. It hardly mattered.

He was deeply pleased to discover that the Royal House of Leonberk, too, had a man of worth. Having finally confirmed that the kingdom possessed some strength of its own, it would have been most awkward if his niece's prospective husband had proved unworthy of his reputation.

"Hm?"

Just as Duncan's lips curved in satisfaction, he shuddered as though struck by lightning.

Beyond the crowd welcoming the delegation, an immense force was approaching from the city gates. It felt like a colossal fortress had suddenly risen before him, or an army tens of thousands strong had charged him without warning.

Duncan could swear he had never encountered such a presence in his life.

Gooseflesh rose all over him. Every hair on his body stood on end, even those on his head. An icy chill ran down his back.

Suppressing the groan rising in his throat, he searched for the source. It was not difficult. That vast presence was too immense to conceal, even had its owner tried.

A man emerged through the crowd and took his place beneath the banner of the Royal House of Leonberk.

"Ah..."

In that instant, Duncan understood. The man he had taken for the Lion of the North was merely another member of the Royal House of Leonberk. The true lion was someone else.

Hair streamed like a lion's mane above a presence as fierce as a wild beast's. The man's lips curled upward. It was a lion's savage smile, utterly devoid of goodwill.

Formal greetings passed back and forth through an interpreter. All the while, I stared intently at Duncan Seymour Tudor. He did not avert his gaze.

He certainly deserved to be called the Finest Knight in the West.

He was the strongest Knight of the Ring I had ever seen, so much so that I wondered whether he might be on the very verge of Penta. I could not say for certain, but there were likely few Knights of the Ring capable of defeating him. Certainly none I had met.

Had we met at another time, in another place, I would surely have paid at least some respect to the heights he had attained. But not now.

To me, Duncan Seymour Tudor was not a knight of lofty attainment. He was merely an insolent man who had forgotten a guest's manners and sought to intimidate his host.

Nor was he the only problem. The other dignitary in the Teuton delegation, the eldest daughter of the Royal House of Tudor, had not even shown her face. They had asked our understanding beforehand, claiming that the long journey had left her terribly weak, but it had amounted to little more than a unilateral announcement.

I did not like this at all. The rude knight, the delegation's subtly condescending manner toward our kingdom—every bit of it grated on my nerves.

I was seething inside, but I suppressed my anger for now. I could hardly drive away guests who had come seeking an alliance without even speaking to them, even if those so-called guests were nasty bastards who threatened their host.

"Brother, I will take over from here."

Fortunately, Maximilian sensed my mood and volunteered to escort the delegation. Duncan Seymour Tudor glanced at me, then followed him away.

"Ha."

I gave a derisive chuckle as I watched Duncan Seymour Tudor remain arrogant to the last.

"Let's see how long you keep acting so high and mighty."

Sooner or later, I guaranteed he would pay for today's arrogance. I intended to see to it myself.

I headed for the palace, consoling myself that at least I had escaped the tiresome business of entertaining the delegation. As it turned out, I would have been better off escorting them.

"Your Highness, is it not time you recognized the responsibilities of your position as Crown Prince?"

No sooner had I arrived at the palace than Marquis Bielefeld came looking for me, as though he had been lying in wait, and began pestering me.

Shouldn't I send word when I left and when I returned? Did I have any idea how worried he and Maximilian had been? Did I not understand how important this delegation was to the kingdom? The scolding went on and on.

"I did leave a letter."

"You mean that letter with neither a date nor any proper explanation?"

My ill-advised excuse only earned me more scolding. After that, I kept my mouth firmly shut and waited for the Grand Marshal to calm down.

"Whew. So what exactly had you left behind that required you to leave at such an important time?"

After lecturing me at length, the Grand Marshal finally sighed and asked his question.

"Montpellier."

When the capital had been attacked, Montpellier had fled north along with the royal family. Everyone else who had taken refuge there had returned, but that bastard Montpellier was still in the North.

"It occurred to me that I'd forgotten all about him."

I had left so abruptly to fetch Montpellier.

"Why bring him back all of a sudden...?"

"He's such a scheming bastard that I can't rest easy unless I keep him where I can see him."

The marquis looked appalled.

"At a time this important, for such a trivial reason..."

He reproached me, saying that if that was all, surely sending someone with orders to bring Montpellier back would have sufficed. So I told him my real purpose.

"No. That would have taken too long."

"Was the man about to flee somewhere after staying there perfectly well all this time?"

"No, but we wouldn't have made it in time that way."

I explained why I had insisted on bringing Montpellier back at this particular time.

"I intend to put him in charge of dealing with the Teuton delegation."

Marquis Bielefeld stared at me as if I had just spouted utter nonsense, then asked what on earth I trusted about Montpellier enough to entrust him with such an important matter for the kingdom. I answered indifferently.

"You seem to have forgotten already, Grand Marshal, but until very recently, he was one of the Empire's few marquises."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It means he knows quite a lot."

"If that is all, we ought to make him cough up his information and leave the negotiations to someone else."

It pleased me immensely to see that the marquis now understood how Montpellier ought to be treated. That aside, however, I disagreed.

"No. I've already decided to entrust this to Montpellier."

The marquis asked why.

"Because no one is better at swaggering about and squeezing things out of people."

Montpellier might get pushed around by everyone in the kingdom, but he was not incompetent. Quite the opposite: he was rather capable. Provided no one was threatening him with a blade, he was the best man I knew at accomplishing things with words.

Indeed, his glib tongue had once nearly ruined the kingdom from its very roots.

"As an enemy, he's a bastard you want to beat to death. As an ally, though, he's useful in quite a few ways."

From an imperial perspective rather than ours, he was a man of thoroughly proven ability. Besides, with nowhere else to go, he was unlikely to betray us. His only remaining path was to distinguish himself in the kingdom somehow and secure a place here.

"I guarantee he'll see this as an opportunity and throw himself into it as though his life depends on it."

Just imagining the Teuton delegation choking on their frustration as they dealt with that infuriating bastard nearly made me laugh.

Unlike me, however, Marquis Bielefeld looked far from pleased. He clearly disliked using Montpellier for so important a mission. Still, he did not go so far as to oppose me.

He merely suggested assigning Count Siorin Kirgayen to watch Montpellier, prevent any foolishness, and prepare for the worst. Since I had never intended to leave the matter to Montpellier alone, I readily accepted.

Just as we settled the matter, Adelia opened the door a crack and peeked inside.

"Your Highness, allow me to tidy your hair."

Come to think of it, riding a Wyvern had left my hair a wild mess.

"Please do."

With my permission, Adelia began deftly putting my hair in order. While I left myself in her hands, another visitor arrived. It was Arwen.

"Your Highness, had you at least given me some warning, this would not have caused such an uproar."

As she spoke, her gaze remained fixed on Adelia, showing a rare trace of hurt. Apparently, she was upset that I had taken Adelia along while leaving without so much as a word to her.

"Come with me next time."

Arwen answered coolly.

"The proper response would be to promise not to disappear without warning and cause everyone trouble next time."

All the while, she struggled to keep the corners of her mouth from rising. I could only smile at her failure to admit how she felt.

"I'll keep that in mind, too."

Arwen left in a softer mood. Karl was next.

"Your Highness! Am I truly your knight or not? If you intend to leave me behind every time, just dismiss me outright!"

Karl had already been left out on several occasions for one reason or another, and his face was full of genuine hurt as he complained.

"I promise it won't happen again."

I soothed Karl as well. Then Eli came to see me.

"Do you need soothing too?"

"I'm not sure what you mean... In any case, I thought you would return once everything was over, but you actually managed to make it back in time."

"Are you picking a fight?"

"Perish the thought. I am simply glad you have returned."

"At least try to make it sound convincing."

After those few perfunctory exchanges, Eli fell silent. Then his eyes darted about before he asked me a question.

"By the way, Dame Arwen..."

"Out!"

I threw him out without mercy. Then Maximilian came to my room.

"Brother! Brother! Brother!"

As he kept calling for me, I asked,

"Are you here to lecture me too?"

Maximilian shook his head.

"Until you returned, I did resent your unpredictability. But it is all right now. You were a little late, but you still made it back in time, did you not?"

"Aren't you curious why I went north?"

"If it were something I needed to know, you would have told me already."

He was so easygoing about it that I found myself itching to tell him.

"I brought back Montpellier. He'd been holed up in the North."

I told Maximilian how I intended to use Montpellier. He did not question a word of it, merely raising a thumb and calling it a fine idea.

His unchanging support brought a smile to my face. In my improved mood, I told him about another purpose for my trip, one I had not yet revealed even to Marquis Bielefeld.

"Montpellier isn't the only thing I brought back from the North."

Maximilian waited, his eyes shining.

"This is what really matters."

Feeling rather pleased with myself, I brought out a large chest and opened it for him.

"This is..."

Maximilian's eyes went round. I chuckled, thinking of the arrogant delegation.

"Let's see whether they can still act so high and mighty after seeing this."