Golden Blood
A noble tea party.
No matter which one it was, a tea party was never held in a shabby fashion. Even if it strained the hosts, the day itself had to be decorated as lavishly as possible. That display was the measure of the host’s wealth, history, and capability.
That was why the tea parties held in the imperial capital boasted an entirely different scale and grandeur. With the young blood who would one day become lords, knights, and house heads all gathered in one place, the energy in the air was something special.
Young masters and young lords in immaculate dress uniforms, family crests pinned to their chests; young ladies and young misses in dresses of every brilliant color, as if each had been crowned with a single perfect flower. Every one of them had adorned themselves with the desperate wish to become the star of the gathering.
Yet even with that burning desire, there existed in the empire an overwhelming presence that reduced them all to blades of grass sprouting beside a flower rather than the flower itself.
Olivia Arken.
Golden hair and blue eyes. A beauty of the sort said to topple nations—rumor claimed that even the way she blearily opened her eyes in the morning was lovely. Daughter of the emperor, gifted with both talent and beauty, she was the bride every man across the ages had longed to claim.
“Look, it’s Lady Olivia.”
“I heard she was attending this tea party—so it was true.”
“How can anyone be that beautiful……?”
Men and women alike could not help but gasp at her looks. Every young master drifted around her orbit, pretending to wander while stealing glances from the corners of their eyes. They knew perfectly well that their stations did not permit them to speak to her.
Yet now and then there were those who firmly believed that without courage, a beauty could never be won.
“I present myself before the imperial princess. As the guardian of the golden dawn and the blade of the frontier, I wished to introduce myself—”
“I am terribly sorry,” interrupted the woman seated beside Olivia, smiling sweetly. “We are in the middle of a gathering among the young ladies. Only members of the Golden Rose may join the conversation at this table.”
“Ah… yes……”
“Well then.”
In the end the man retreated without even managing to speak his own name, thoroughly humiliated. The seated ladies snickered as they watched the defeated figure walk away.
“There go more of those clueless dayflies who don’t know their place.”
“Exactly. Even the son of Duke Mussel was turned away, yet a mere margrave of the border dares to speak to Princess Arken?”
They laughed lightly while tearing him to shreds. Olivia tilted her head, teacup in hand.
“Still, if he is one of those who protect this frontier, shouldn’t we at least have greeted him?”
“Oh my, there’s no need for that at all!”
“She’s right! If you don’t put the lower sorts firmly in their place, they start climbing above themselves!”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes! Of course it is!”
“Ahh, as expected of Princess Arken—how can she be so pure……?”
“I truly want to protect her until the day I die!”
The young ladies fluttered and swooned as though they might perish on the spot. Olivia watched the performance with an air of pure innocence, smiling while she thought:
Protect me, my foot.
Olivia knew exactly how beautiful she was. She knew how to use it—and how to protect herself with it at the same time. These bodyguards of hers both admired and envied her in equal measure.
Because every man’s eyes go only to me.
No matter how many jewels worth a thousand gold pieces they wore, no matter how famous the designer who had dressed them, her sheer presence left them without a single glance. To those luxury goods, her existence could only be an irritation. Shine too proudly alone and you invite envy and jealousy.
Olivia knew how to handle them. She had chosen to fill her surroundings with the very people who envied her—in the form of an elite social club called the Golden Rose. It was a perfect symbiotic arrangement.
I can protect myself without saying a word, and the guards can approach the men they actually like.
Olivia safeguarded her own flower, while her escorts sorted and plucked the suitors who came buzzing toward it. Once a romance began, a girl had to leave the Golden Rose—but the vacancies would always be filled, so there was nothing to worry about. The more the cycle turned, the higher the loyalty rose. That was the structure of the club.
“As expected of the bloodline through which golden blood flows—you are perfect in every way!”
Golden blood.
The phrase had arisen because the Arken line was said to carry the very qualities required of an emperor. Olivia loathed the words. The same golden blood ran in her veins, yet instead of reaching for the political stage she was rolling about in this flowerbed, wasn’t she?
“Yes, well… I suppose so.”
Olivia answered in a halfhearted voice. The atmosphere cooled at once. Having received such a lukewarm reply, the young ladies’ eyes turned sharp.
“O-oh, I-I’m so sorry, Your Highness! I never meant to offend—”
“My, even if the young lady of House Horns had no such intention, it didn’t sound very nice to me.”
“Exactly. How could you bring up such a subject in a place like this?”
They piled on with agreeing murmurs, driving her into a corner. The young lady of House Horns began to flounder. Their real aim was to seize on any weakness and cast her out.
Snake-like bitches, every last one of them.
Olivia despised them even as she answered with natural grace.
“My, whatever is the matter?”
“I feel as though I’ve been rude to Princess Arken……”
“How could that be? I was simply lost in thought for a moment. I’m the one who should apologize—for failing to give all of you my full attention……”.
Olivia moistened her blue eyes until they glistened. The ladies of her guard started in alarm and scrambled to soothe her.
“Not at all!”
“Lady Olivia looked so magnificent while she was thinking. Like a painting come to life.”
They laughed lightly and smoothed things over. Inside, of course, they would be cursing her for playing the good girl. Let them curse. A mask worn long enough becomes the true face.
Someone shifted the heavy atmosphere with a new topic.
“More importantly, have you all heard?”
“Heard what?”
“The latest news about Regent Ferda.”
At those words Olivia’s hand paused for a fraction of a second.
“Apparently he performed splendidly in Halim this time.”
“Oh my—Halim? That unholy land?”
“I hear the women there wear the most indecent clothes and bewitch the men……”.
“Heehee, what sort of imagination is that! It wasn’t anything of the sort! There was an exhibition from Escoleia.”
“Was it only the exhibition? I’ve heard every man who goes to Halim comes back with his soul sucked out……”.
Like any gathering of women, the conversation threatened to wander completely off course.
“And there,” Olivia said, opening her mouth. She had attended many tea parties, yet it was rare indeed for her to speak when the talk turned to men. “What happened there?”
“Pardon? Ah—well, a monster rift opened and monsters poured out. Seven wolf-type monsters, they say.”
“Seven of them, my goodness?”
“And he performed so well that not a single person died—can you believe it?”
“Is that so?”
“Ooh……”.
The young ladies let out halfhearted exclamations and blinked. The story held no interest for them, and they had no idea how remarkable it actually was.
Olivia, however, was different.
Not a single death in a sudden ambush…… that’s close to a miracle.
She had always taken an interest in tactics and strategy. With the thought that one day she might command an army herself, she had studied countless historical records to develop a feel for the art of war, and she had steadily researched the enemies she would one day face. She understood perfectly how brilliant a feat Ferda had achieved.
Did he use black magic?
The lost grimoire of Barbatos’s shadow magic circled through her mind. During the imperial visit, after a fierce clash with the investigators, the seal had loosened and the book had vanished through the gap—or so the report claimed. That report had been written only because Olivia herself had exerted pressure; the actual truth remained unknown.
Leave questions as questions.
That was how Olivia conducted herself for the sake of the greater cause.
“I heard rumors that he used black magic.”
Just as she was thinking it, someone else brought the topic up. Looking over, she saw it was the young lady of House Horns who had earlier misspoken. The moment gossip began, every ear perked up with interest.
“Black magic?”
“Yes. In that sudden moment, Regent Ferda reacted alone and pierced the head of the creature coming out of the rift, they say.”
“Isn’t it a bit of a stretch to call that black magic just because of reaction speed?”
“According to talk from above, the one who caused the monster rift in the first place was Regent Ferda himself—some scheme to look good in Halim.”
The easily swayed young ladies nodded as though the claim held water. Watching their reactions, Olivia felt a wave of disgust inside.
“What does Your Highness think?”
The young lady of House Horns passed the baton. Olivia blinked her pure, innocent eyes.
“Young lady.”
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“No matter what, I don’t think it’s right to brand someone who saved the people without serious injury a black mage.”
“Pardon? W-well……”.
The young lady of House Horns began to flounder again. The atmosphere that had been ready to tear into gossip reversed in an instant.
“She’s right. You really have no sense, do you?”
“A young lady of standing, speaking ill of a hero…… shouldn’t we hold her properly accountable?”
They displayed open disgust far more blatant than when they had first ganged up on the young lady of House Horns. There would be no recovery. She was effectively banished from the Golden Rose and would spend the rest of her life hovering at the edges of tea parties.
There’s no malice in it.
She had dug her own grave; she would simply have to lie in it.
Still, the Regent is advancing everything so smoothly.
After declaring the conquest of the Land of Evil, he had won Iorga’s support and then performed brilliantly in Halim. No one could stand in the way of that hero’s path for the moment. He would certainly create a second capital.
I need to accomplish something myself……
Compared to him, Olivia had made no progress. What she needed in order to build power within the empire was to become a saintess. Yet all she was doing was refining her figure, exchanging useless chatter with young ladies, and stuffing her head with empty formalities she cared nothing about—how a certain black tea tasted, how a certain pastry was prepared.
The status of imperial princess was this stifling.
It’s far too distant from becoming a saintess.
Even a monk who devoted an entire lifetime could not become a saint or saintess. How could it be possible while living such a glittering life?
Even so, I have to do it.
If she became a saintess, then she too would be able to claim that damned golden blood.
Upon his return, Ferda first inspected the progress of the village construction. The scene before him differed from the future he had pictured from Isabella’s reports.
“It has advanced a great deal.”
He had been away only about three weeks, yet the somewhat chaotic atmosphere had been brought into order and several buildings had already risen. Enough space had been created that all the tents once used as temporary lodgings could be dismantled.
“Indeed. It has exceeded the projected range.”
“How much earlier than scheduled?”
“Two months.”
“That is rather more than a simple excess.”
The blue-haired Dragon Spawn, Administrator Isabella, pushed her glasses up. For the Archons of Knowledge, such a remark would have scraped pride raw, yet Isabella explained calmly.
“The speed of the existing laborers was within expectations. Of course one must also account for workforce attrition and supply issues, but this was a bolt from the blue—an unforeseen variable.”
She was not speaking merely to preserve her pride. Ferda knew that, so he asked:
“What is that variable?”
“They call him the Armored Knight.”
“Armored Knight?”
Isabella nodded.
“Yes. He appears to be a wandering knight, yet he has taken a vow of silence, so the nearby laborers simply call him the Armored Knight.”
“Hmm……”.
Ferda examined the personnel record and the payment ledger. The personal details listed only what could be confirmed from outward appearance. From that alone he reached a conclusion.
“It is not a vow of silence.”
“Is that so?”
“Ordinarily, a man who has taken a vow of silence still receives a plaque bearing his name and affiliation. Even without speaking, he at least reveals his name—that is the meaning of it.”
As a man of a knightly house, Ferda knew this well. Someone under a vow of silence might live as a wanderer, but working as a laborer on a construction site did not fit. Then was he at least being paid handsomely? Ferda looked at the payment ledger.
“He is already receiving more than twenty times the wages of the other laborers.”
Two silver coins—worth two hundred copper. Yet Ferda frowned.
“Too little.”
Isabella nodded in agreement.
“In truth, even thirty silver would be too little for talent of this caliber.”
“Why did you not offer more?”
“He showed no dissatisfaction. He seemed almost to find it strange that he was being paid at all, and refused anything beyond two silver. And why should we force more money upon him?”
“Hmm……”.
Considering a knight’s salary and worth, what value did a daily wage of two shillings hold? It was exploitation so blatant that the employer would have no right to complain even if a blade were held to his throat. To work on a pride-crushing construction site for such meager pay required a character greater than that of most saints.
Or he is hiding secrets of equal weight.
A dark past, or someone he had killed. Yet if he carried such secrets, his refusal to accept more than two silver became even stranger.
“In precisely what way is he helpful? Does he know construction methods?”
“No. He is a complete novice with no basic knowledge of building, yet he has taken on every task that can be solved with sheer strength alone, allowing us to raise buildings far ahead of schedule.”
Monstrous strength. Hearing that, Ferda thought of one particular man.
“That Armored Knight.”
“Yes?”
“Does he look thick and heavy enough that one’s breath catches simply looking at him?”
Isabella pondered a moment before answering.
“No. He wears half-plate like any common wandering knight.”
“I see.”
Ferda had been thinking of Alberdo, the walking fortress. Given that no eyewitness accounts of the man had yet surfaced, he seemed able to move with surprising stealth despite his massive frame.
Monstrous strength……
A man who had advanced the schedule by two full months through strength alone.
“If it concerns you, shall I begin an investigation?”
At Isabella’s suggestion Ferda shook his head.
“No. Leave him alone for now. Making a show of investigating and driving him away would be foolish.”
Only a fool would cut open the goose that laid golden eggs.
“However, that man’s value cannot be overlooked. Think of a way we can continue to make use of him.”
“A wise judgment.”
If someone was of use to the grand duchy, they would recruit him by any means. If recruitment failed, they would create circumstances that left him no choice but to be recruited.
And if even that fails, we will simply suck every drop of sweetness from him.
Not a single drop would be left; he would become nourishment for the city that was being built. All of it for the sake of the village being raised for Baldrova.
“By the way,” Isabella asked Ferda, “what name will you give the city?”
“Is Baldrova not sufficient?”
Isabella’s tone dropped.
“That is already the name of this castle and of the grand duchy itself. If it is spoken too often, its majesty will naturally erode.”
“If that is the purpose, is it so unacceptable?”
“Even I, a Spawn of Iorga, cannot permit it. I will firmly refuse this matter, so I ask for your understanding.”
Hearing her words, Ferda decided to yield. A woman who ordinarily respected the regent’s will had used the word “firmly.” Among the dragons, this matter clearly carried great weight.
“Then we shall have to choose a new name.”
“For that reason I conducted a public solicitation.”
As though she had been waiting, Isabella drew a sheet from a document folder and handed it to Ferda.
“Many fine names were suggested, but in the end it narrowed to two: Diarine, meaning the foremost line against the demonic, or Alterios, meaning a light that banishes darkness. What is your opinion?”
Diarine and Alterios.
“Diarine sounds gloomy, and Alterios seems connected to the Alte Church.”
“In fact, that is partly the intent. Nine-tenths of the empire are Alte believers, so it would not be a poor choice.”
A strategy to attract an influx of people. There might be strategic advantages, yet Ferda had no desire to go that route. He had had more than one unpleasant entanglement with the Alte Church. The Alte faith showed no mercy to heretics. When he had borne the Red Circle and the aptitude test had revealed darkness, they had been eager to kill him.
He therefore preferred a name that did not immediately call the Alte Church to mind. What good name might there be?
Suddenly Ferda recalled something from the past.
“What was the name of the project I was running long ago to save my fiancée?”
“Project: Hestia, you mean?”
“Hestia……”.
It was the name of a woman who had tended the sacred fire since ancient times. The name was little used now and was barely mentioned even in history lessons—a figure who merely flitted past.
A woman who guards the fire. Not bad at all.
“What do you think of Hestia?”
“I prefer a weighty and solemn atmosphere…… yet a lively one is not as bad as I expected. I shall reflect that and proceed.”
Ferda repeated the name several times. Hestia, Hestia…… The sound clung pleasantly to the tongue, and the meaning pleased him as well.
Baldrova was the Lord of Fire and Strength. This place would become a city and a bulwark for those who guarded the fire.
So I must squeeze every last bit of use from that Armored Knight fellow.
Until the man changed his mind, Ferda would extract everything possible. That was his resolve.