The princess of Teuton looked at me with her characteristic delicate smile.

Seeing her face made me feel like a fool for having made time for her. I suppressed the urge to leap up and leave, forcing myself to stay in my seat.

"Why did you want to see me?"

I would at least hear what she had come for.

"Though it is somewhat belated, allow me to express my utmost respect for the fighting spirit displayed by the knights of the Leonberk Kingdom, and for your extraordinary martial prowess, Your Highness."

The princess bowed gracefully.

"Furthermore, both Teuton and I sincerely thank you for your mercy in sparing Duke Seymour and ending the match without wounding him."

His body might be intact, but his mind was in tatters, and she was thanking me for my mercy.

It was so absurd that at first it almost sounded like mockery. Yet there was no trace of sarcasm in her expression. Her sparkling eyes held nothing but goodwill.

Most men would probably have fallen for that fragile appearance and those honeyed words.

But I was not most men.

I was simply sick of it.

The innocent approach, the sweet words that ensnared the listener, the gaze that made a person believe she harbored feelings for them—all of it was far too familiar.

Sigrun, the Elder High Elf, had used those tricks on me until I was thoroughly sick of them. Compared with the machinations of a thousand-year-old Elder High Elf, the princess's performance was clumsy and transparent.

"And regardless of who won or lost, the matches gave our two nations an opportunity to deepen their understanding of one another. I am already looking forward to seeing our relationship flourish."

The princess kept spouting nonsense.

Far from deepening our understanding, we had only deepened the rift.

"Is that what you came to say?"

If I let her carry on, I would be listening to this drivel all day. Unable to bear it any longer, I cut in.

The princess glanced at me with a start.

Having kept her eyes averted all this time to play the bashful maiden, she finally looked at my face. Her expression was quite a sight.

I could not know exactly what my face looked like, but whatever she saw, it certainly wasn't what she had expected.

"Ah..."

When her eyes met my steady gaze, she flinched and lowered them, her lashes trembling.

Like a girl wounded by harsh words.

She certainly was persistent.

Surely by now she realized that this pathetic act was getting her nowhere.

At my cold response, she bowed her head farther. She clenched her small fists, parting her lips several times only to close them again.

A long silence followed.

How much longer was I supposed to play along with these ridiculous games? Irritation began to rise.

I had forced myself to stay because I thought she had another purpose in mind.

But my patience ended here.

"If you have nothing more to say, let us end this here."

With that, I sprang to my feet.

"The Leonberk Kingdom..."

I had turned toward the door when the princess's voice reached me from behind.

I looked back. She had raised her head and was now looking straight at me.

Her frame was still slight, her face still pale. All she had done was straighten her shoulders a little and wipe away that false smile.

Yet that alone utterly transformed her air and demeanor.

Enough to make me wonder whether she was truly the same person.

"No, how far do you look ahead, Your Highness?"

Her voice was perfectly clear now, with none of its former intimacy, as though she were whispering in my ear.

"Is the Leonberk Kingdom's goal merely to win the war against the Empire and ensure its own survival?"

I turned to face her fully.

"Go on."

I lifted my chin as I spoke.

"Teuton looks beyond that."

The princess resumed speaking.

"Dominion over the continent. That is what Teuton desires."

Unity among the nations opposed to the Empire was only the beginning, she said. Teuton had made extensive preparations.

"Did those preparations happen to include the Finest Knight in the West? If so, I apologize. I seem to have broken your sharpest sword."

My tone was derisive, mocking Teuton for dreaming beyond its station.

The princess did not grow angry. She merely smiled.

A smile whose meaning escaped me.

"Your Highness, I was sincere when I congratulated you on your victory over Duke Seymour."

Her broad smile twisted, but her lips soon returned to their former shape.

"Had you not defeated Duke Seymour so overwhelmingly, I would never have had this opportunity to step to the forefront."

That was unexpected.

Even I knew how exceptionally fond Duncan Seymour Tudor was of his niece.

"Are you not on such good terms as people believe?"

"Duke Seymour truly regards me as his own daughter."

She shook her head, then added,

"But that love only means anything so long as his niece knows her place."

Her lips twisted again.

There seemed to be a story behind that.

But it was not my concern.

"Surely you didn't ask to see me just to lament your lot."

At my indifferent remark, the princess's eyes widened.

"Heh."

She suddenly began to chuckle. It took her some time to stop, after which she apologized.

I told her I did not mind and that she should finish what she had been saying.

"I can only thank you for your great generosity, Your Highness."

I had not said it to receive her thanks.

I truly was not offended. If anything, I felt much more at ease than before.

This lively version of her was far better than the false face that reminded me of an Elder High Elf.

"As I mentioned earlier, Teuton is uniting the nations opposed to the Empire. Several have already joined, and barring any extraordinary developments, Teuton will likely lead the league."

"So Leonberk should stop being stubborn and fall into line. Is that what you're saying?"

Her lips twitched at my blunt words before she composed herself again.

Then she asked me,

"Would you perhaps care to be the guest of honor at the party Teuton has prepared?"

She was asking whether I wished to become the leader of the anti-imperial league.

Yet another unexpected offer.

"Now you've begun to interest me."

Until then, I had been listening from beside the door. Only now did I return to my chair and sit down.

"Of course, that will only be possible if you accept my proposal, Your Highness."

I sank back into the chair and looked at her.

The princess smiled. Her eyes burned with fervor.

That ambition was far too great for such a slight body to contain.

I had to revise my assessment of her.

What she harbored was not a snake, but a great serpent yearning to become a dragon—even if it meant ruining her own country's grand plan.

I asked her what, exactly, she wanted from the kingdom.

"Consort."

The princess answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Give me the position of consort of the Leonberk Kingdom."

* * *

Hestia Neumann Tudor was a woman loved by all.

As a child, her angelic looks and cleverness had won her the undivided affection of her royal father and her uncle, Duke Seymour. As she grew, her natural beauty blossomed, earning the adoration of countless men.

The woman beloved by Teuton.

That was Hestia Neumann Tudor.

But that was all.

Her father knew how intelligent she was, yet wanted her to remain merely a princess. The respect shown by nobles and knights was likewise nothing more than admiration for a beautiful flower blooming in the garden of the Royal House of Tudor.

That was not what Hestia Neumann Tudor wanted.

She wanted reverence in the eyes of everyone who looked at her. Not admiration for her beauty, nor deference to a woman beloved by the king and Duke Seymour. She longed for true reverence, from the heart.

She wanted everyone to look up to her and fear her.

Though her father loved her dearly, he rejected her aspirations.

Indeed, he regarded them with wariness.

For the reverence she sought was reserved for one person alone in all of Teuton.

In her naive younger days, she had tried to change her father's mind. She had believed that once she proved her ability, he would reconsider.

But he did not.

The more ability she displayed, the more she outshone her elder brothers, the harder her father pressed her down.

So hurt and aggrieved that she could no longer bear it, she went to protest to her father.

["Do not cross the line. Be content with what you have been given as a princess. Anything beyond that is not yours to have."]

With a sternness she had never seen on his face before, her father told her not to covet what belonged to her elder brothers.

It was an unmistakable warning.

Fortunately, young as she was, she was clever enough to understand it—and to understand what would happen to her if she ignored it.

From then on, she played the part her father wanted.

Fortunately, it was not difficult.

She had only to imitate the other young noblewomen her age.

But beneath it all, she was rotting inside.

Her unattainable ambition ate away at her body. Slowly, she withered.

And time passed.

One day, Hestia Neumann Tudor heard news of the war between the Leonberk Kingdom and the Empire.

She learned that an insignificant northern country had defeated the vast Empire, and that Teuton had decided to bring it into the league.

And when she heard that one of the princesses would be offered as a token of alliance, she volunteered to go to the Leonberk Kingdom herself.

The other princesses had refused to go to an insignificant country on the fringes of the continent, leaving her father at his wits' end.

After some deliberation, he granted her request.

Hestia Neumann Tudor could not tell whether it was paternal love, an inability to watch his daughter waste away any longer, or apprehension that her ambition would eventually sow discord in Teuton.

Either way, it did not matter.

She wanted only to escape this suffocating cage.

For the first and last time, her father entrusted her with an important responsibility.

Overall command of the delegation.

Yet even with this first important assignment, exercising her abilities would change nothing.

Even if she used her talents to fulfill the delegation's purpose, all she would gain was the position of consort in a foreign land.

Princess of Teuton or Crown Princess of Leonberk—in the end, she would still be treated as a flower in a garden.

Her uncle, Duke Seymour, volunteered to escort the delegation.

Time passed. As planned, she set out for the Leonberk Kingdom.

They said it lay at the continent's northernmost tip, and what a grueling journey it was.

In the end, her weakened body succumbed to the North's harsh climate, and she fell ill. She burned with fever.

For the entire journey, she could not take a single step outside the carriage, doing nothing but languish in sickness.

It was not until several days after arriving in Leonberk's capital that she recovered.

Even once her body had healed, she remained in her room, using her illness as an excuse.

Duke Seymour did not press her.

He pitied her fate: she would have to spend the rest of her life as a foreign country's consort.

But she could not remain secluded forever under the pretext of illness. After hesitating for several days, she reluctantly attended a banquet.

There, she saw the blood kin of the Royal House of Leonberk.