Chapter 103
Not long after, a rumor spread throughout White Swan Castle that the new advisor was a direct descendant of the legendary hero Elandria—a pedigree even more “genuine” than the Duke of Elandria lording it in the south.
That didn’t actually explain her jeweled eyes, but everyone accepted it anyway. Heroes were mysterious, jeweled eyes were mysterious—there must be some connection.
It was obvious who had orchestrated the rumor and guided public opinion so swiftly. Nerys had expected Cledwyn to steer things this way, and she agreed with the direction he’d chosen.
‘This is more convenient.’
Taking a slow morning walk through the garden, Nerys murmured to herself.
Whatever some distant ancestor had done, some were noble, others embarrassingly crude. But in the end, people liked grand names.
If she was going to walk around freely with her jeweled eyes on display, it was better for people to believe she came from the south.
Ha! Ha! The shouts of soldiers training in the practice yard echoed from far away.
Even the imperial knights didn’t rise at dawn like this. It was strange that voices from the practice yard could be heard all the way in the west wing where Nerys was walking. They must train with serious dedication.
The Bistor Empire hadn’t seen war in a long time, and the imperial army had grown corrupt. Important posts were filled by useless imperial relatives, and the soldiers themselves were hardly elite. Nerys had heard Kamil lament this many times in her previous life.
By comparison, how different was the atmosphere of Maindulante?
“Do you really feel like a true noble?”
A sharp voice cut through Nerys’s thoughts.
She was near the east wing’s courtyard. Looking around, she spotted two men facing each other in a deserted corner.
The one whose face was visible was a middle-aged Maindulante vassal lord who occasionally attended meetings. The one whose back was turned—judging by his build and uniform—was Aidan.
“A mere former serf who was barely granted a fief two generations ago… Well, I suppose you know your place, since you never say much.”
A house, huh?
Even without hearing the whole exchange, it was clear enough what kind of pretext the man was using to provoke.
Hearing someone step on the grass, both men turned to Nerys. Aidan’s eyes widened slightly.
“Advisor.”
The lord quickly changed his expression and bowed politely.
The difference in how he treated Nerys versus Aidan was so extreme it was almost comical. But on what basis? Nerys replied with dignity.
“I saw a familiar face while passing by and thought I’d come say hello. What were you talking about so amusingly?”
“It was nothing.”
The lord tried to brush it off, but Nerys had no intention of letting him go so easily.
Cledwyn’s trusted men being slighted in his own castle would set a bad precedent.
“I heard you don’t think much of Sir Aidan’s house. Is that so? Well, I suppose it’s not even worth discussing—just idle nonsense.”
Her biting choice of words made the lord’s face go blank for a second. There was a quiet puff of laughter from Aidan’s side.
That laughter seemed to get under his skin. The lord glared at Aidan.
“Insolent—!”
“Insolent? That’s what I should say to you.”
Nerys stared straight at the lord. He froze.
“Other than the three heroes, every noble on the continent was appointed rather than earning their own title. The Maindulante ducal house may be a special case, but even they became recognized as imperial nobles only after receiving the emperor’s endorsement. What difference is there between nobles, all of whom have been granted their rank by their liege?”
What Nerys referenced was diplomatic custom on the continent.
According to imperial legal theory, every ruler on the continent, whether royal or noble, was in practice or in form a subject of the Bistor imperial house.
When the three heroes defeated the evil dragon and founded the empire, there were no other sovereigns—humanity hadn’t formed kingdoms during the age of the evil dragon.
And after the founding of the Bistor Empire, all new monarchs justified their rule by gaining endorsement from the popular imperial house.
It was also common for royal offshoots or imperial appointees to become kings, so all royalty and nobility, except the three heroes, existed “by imperial appointment.”
By now, with so many countries established, these theories no longer allowed actual interference in other nations’ affairs, but for imperial diplomacy, these old precedents were still major talking points. Nerys had said much the same many times in her previous life, especially when nobles of different countries squabbled over rank.
Maindulante’s “special status” referred to how the ducal family had long ruled the north as their own kingdom without seeking imperial recognition.
But regardless, anyone’s rank came by appointment. If your liege granted the same rank to another, you ought to respect it as a loyal vassal.
“Don’t ever make such comments undermining His Grace’s authority again. Understood?”
What could he say in reply? The noble’s face flushed bright red. Unable to meet her eyes, he muttered an excuse and slipped away.
Only then did Nerys look up at Aidan. Behind him, the morning sun gleamed off the windows of a nearby building.
In the corner of her eye, she saw her own face reflected for a moment in the glass. Nerys deliberately focused her gaze on Aidan.
“It’s been a while, senior.”
“…Yes.”
Aidan looked at Nerys with a new sense of wonder.
When he’d first met her, Aidan had always been tall for his age, and she’d looked no bigger than a newborn rabbit. Yet even at thirteen, the tiny girl had an odd charisma and treated the much older Aidan like a matter-of-fact servant.
Now an adult, she still looked as if she didn’t even have the strength to lift a sword, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Back at school, her quiet junior was now someone to whom it didn’t feel strange at all to use formal speech.
Honestly, even back then, using honorifics with her would not have been odd.
“What happened?”
“It was nothing. Just bumped into him while passing by…”
“Just a petty quarrel, then. But why did you just let it happen?”
“…I’m not much for talking back.”
“Why not? Just say it the way I did.”
“I’m not from the Elandria family. I probably wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”
Nerys understood what Aidan meant.
For a former serf, nobles didn’t just look down on him—they resented him.
They thought he was “undermining the very foundation of social order.”
Just like Nerys herself, born a lesser noble but elevated all the way to the position of crown princess.
But what was the point of all these distinctions? Nerys thought it was all nonsense. Did old noble families bleed blue when cut?
“Even fools don’t just rush in thoughtlessly. They picked on you because they thought you were easy. Aidan Pickering, repeat after me: ‘Insulting me is the same as insulting His Grace the Duke, who trusts and employs me.’”
Even if it felt foolish to say alone, when it was about a superior’s honor like this, he needed to respond. Aidan understood what she meant.
He dropped his gaze and mumbled,
“…Insulting me is… the same as insulting His Grace the Duke, who…”
“This part, say it louder, senior. ‘Insulting.’”
“Insulting me is the same.”
“Good job.”
Nerys laughed boldly.
“The whole castle will be gathering soon. Will you be there, too?”
“Yes.”
“Then see you there. If another noble insults you, don’t just let it go.”
Having said all she wanted, she turned away without hesitation. Morning sunlight spilled dazzlingly over her as she walked away.
❖ ❖ ❖
“She said that?”
Cledwyn smiled. Aidan, who’d just reported every detail of his conversation with Nerys in the garden, nodded stiffly.
“Yes.”
“I can’t find a single fault in the advisor’s words.”
Talfrin sneered, peering at Aidan through his sharp eyes behind his glasses.
“Were you just standing there like a clam with idiots spouting nonsense again? How many times have I told you, when you look like an easy target, it only hurts our lord’s reputation?”
Aidan didn’t reply. He was rarely talkative.
Clang! The sword, locked in a stalemate a moment before, slid away with a chilling sound. Cledwyn, watching Aidan’s blank face as he lost his grip, spoke leisurely.
“Something seems to be on your mind. Speak.”
“…When I was talking to the advisor, she glanced behind me for a moment, then seemed startled.”
“And?”
“She quickly looked away, but there was no one else around, so I’m not sure why.”
Aidan’s lack of response often led people to think he was slow, but he was skilled enough to be one of the duke’s closest aides at a young age.
It was unlikely he’d misread where she was looking or sensed someone nearby.
Was there something in the garden? Talfrin frowned, but Cledwyn replied indifferently.
“You said she was next to the building? She probably saw the window.”
“Why would she look away from a window?”
Talfrin couldn’t understand at all, but Cledwyn only shrugged, not bothering to explain further. Talfrin took the hint and stopped worrying about Nerys’s glance.
‘She probably just saw her own reflection.’
Without having seen it himself, Cledwyn figured out the truth.
Nerys had never mentioned it, and probably never would, but he had a vague idea she disliked mirrors.
It wasn’t something he’d learned from background checks, but from little moments in daily life: when she glanced at a silver spoon, a midnight window, or a polished shield in the office and immediately looked away.
She was someone who rarely showed agitation on the surface and worked hard to hide her weaknesses, so hardly anyone else would know.
‘Whatever the reason.’
There was no reason for someone with such a beautiful face to be troubled by it.
Talfrin, watching the thoughtful Cledwyn, came to his own conclusion.
‘Even that rock-headed Aidan Pickering remembers all sorts of tiny details about the advisor.’
Aidan’s eyesight and ability to sense people were second to none.
But even so, you only notice things if you’re interested in someone.
‘What a fool.’
Openly showing interest in someone you shouldn’t even dare to care about.
Still, because he’d known Aidan for a long time, Talfrin decided to give a discreet hint.
“Your Grace.”
“What?”
“You’ve given the advisor gifts, and you know her mother well…”
“The point.”
“Yes. When are you getting married?”
“Do you get married alone?”
“But—”
“She’s not interested in me. She even suggested I find a duchess with a straight face.”
Why did you say that, advisor?
Talfrin was exasperated, but Cledwyn only smiled brightly, unfazed.
“For now, I’ll make sure she can’t help but notice me.”
A gift? A single box of jewels didn’t even count as a real gift.
He would take his time and make her think about him. He believed he was worth her attention.
Aidan, having picked up his sword, rubbed his shoulder with a dazed look. Cledwyn aimed his blade at him, his eyes sparkling.
“Let’s go again, Aidan. You don’t get stronger without practice.”
One round with Cledwyn left most people in ruins. Seeing the dismayed Aidan, Talfrin shook his head.
White clouds drifted across the clear northern sky. Beneath them, someone was pushed to their limits until, as always, their voice rang out in defeat.
