Chapter 51: No Eternal Enemies

After changing into banquet clothes, I first conveyed my thanks to the crown prince.

"Thank you for presiding over my investiture ceremony, Your Highness."

"Presiding over your knighting was a meaningful moment for me as well. Personally, I’d been considering appointing you as guard swordsmanship instructor in recognition of your merit, but unfortunately I couldn’t obtain the appointment authority from His Majesty. Fortunately, the War Minister is working on it, so results should come soon. My apologies, but please be patient until then."

"I’ll gladly wait, Your Highness."

At first I’d thought it was a troublesome position, but having joined the crown prince’s faction, being a close associate seemed beneficial in many ways. Troublesome matters would certainly come with it, but the scales tipped slightly toward benefit. So whether it worked out or not, I was at peace with it.

After the investiture ceremony, a banquet was naturally held in my name. Lately more money was flowing out than coming in, but it was a necessary formality, and the dowry would give some breathing room for running the household. Though not yet officially engaged to Hilda, she was already moving through the banquet hall with the ease of a mistress.

For this banquet, Hilda had mobilized all of the War Minister family’s attendants. I’d also brought Sabine, Daniel, and Hans to observe and learn how seasoned attendants conducted themselves. Ted and Oscar were working banquet hall security alongside the crown prince’s guard. The only one left guarding the house was Bodo.

"Wolf, greet the Administrative Minister first."

The four major ministers (Administrative, Finance, War, and Judicial) were essentially equal in rank, but since this banquet’s hosts were me and the War Minister’s family, disputes could arise depending on which noble received a greeting of thanks first.

The Judicial Minister was neutral, so that was fine, but the Finance Minister certainly wouldn’t take it well. It couldn’t be helped, though—I wasn’t in a position to be on friendly terms with the Finance Minister anyway. The Administrative Minister was Count Sebastian von Dickmeyer, an unsmiling man who radiated stubborn tenacity.

"Thank you for attending my investiture ceremony."

"No need to thank me. If not for you being the War Minister’s future son-in-law, I’d have had no reason to attend."

"Hoho, the Administrative Minister is as blunt as ever."

Whether it was the Administrative Minister’s naturally brusque disposition or he was simply displeased at attending the investiture of a mere hereditary knight, he wasn’t particularly warm toward me. Hilda worked hard to mediate conversation between us, but to no real effect.

So I activated the Manager Scouter on the Administrative Minister.

Favorability toward me was 20, mindset was displeasure, disposition was loyalty (neutral). Why the displeasure? And the disposition was peculiar too—loyalty (neutral). But I couldn’t glean anything more than that.

Ultimately leaving the Administrative Minister behind, I headed to the seat of Judicial Minister Count Ulrich von Luke. This was on an entirely different level of exhausting compared to Mainhof’s banquet. Back then I’d been just a nameless participant, but as host, I had to make the rounds greeting everyone.

"It’s an honor to meet the much-talked-about Gale Knight."

"The honor is mine, that the minister presiding over judicial affairs and protocol would attend."

"No need for humility. However, there’s a matter I’d like to discuss privately, so if it’s convenient, please visit the judicial residence in the near future. It won’t be bad news for you."

"I’ll be sure to visit."

The Judicial Minister seemed to have some other business with me. Was that why he’d been so favorable? I exchanged pleasantries at the Judicial Minister’s seat several times; conversation felt like going through the motions. After that, I moved to the Finance Minister’s seat.

The Finance Minister’s expression was a curious one—like regret at having let a caught fish slip away. Because I’d nearly entered the family as the Elsheimer son-in-law.

"Long time no see, Sir Streit. You’ve risen so much in the short time since we last met that there’s no room for ill will. Honestly, I was impressed by your conduct."

Thanks to the Finance Minister, I’d nearly been caught in the crossfire, so I couldn’t honestly say I felt favorable toward him either. However, in the world of nobles, there were no eternal enemies or eternal friends—one needed to master the art of cooperating as circumstances required.

Setting emotions aside and taking what was profitable was also proper conduct for a noble. That said, having married into the War Minister’s family, the Finance Minister couldn’t treat me carelessly. One thing I’d counted on when making Hilda my legitimate wife was the War Minister serving as a shield.

Short of a prince, no one would provoke me at the risk of crossing that line. If the Finance Minister had offered his own daughter as my legitimate wife instead of pushing the Elsheimer son-in-law arrangement, the story would have been different—but that was utterly out of the question. A man who even ranked visitors by importance for audiences would never give his daughter to a lower noble.

So I found quiet satisfaction in that.

Adelbert was eating quietly but seemed to have his ears pricked at the conversation between the Finance Minister and me. The father-son relationship was poor, but appearances had to be maintained, so both had attended my investiture ceremony. Compared to the wily minister, the son was easier to communicate with and more receptive to deals.

The Administrative and Judicial Ministers hadn’t brought their children. Adelbert had probably attended knowing the history between me and the Finance Minister. Beyond the ministers, I also got acquainted with other bureaucrat nobles and duchy knights. As expected, Hilda’s help was invaluable.

And most nobles offered praise that wasn’t quite praise, saying I was admirably brave for making Hilda my legitimate wife. What was wrong with my fiancée? She rode horses with skill rivaling the Mongols, but was that really so frightening? In my eyes, she was still a lovely, beautiful girl.

"It’s an honor to meet the Gale Knight. Fiel von Steinhof. Please remember me going forward."

I’d just greeted a young knight—the grandson of the legendary knight known as the Storm Knight, Steinhof. I’d heard that Steinhof was living a leisurely retirement as the crown prince’s swordsmanship instructor, but I hadn’t expected to see his grandson here.

"My wife is Lady Steiner’s friend."

"Is Elisabeth well?"

"Haha, she’s doing splendidly. Still brimming with energy to the point of being hard to keep up with."

"Wolf, Elisabeth rides horses brilliantly too—every bit as well as me. I’d like you to meet her sometime."

"I’ll look forward to it. Personally, I’d very much like to become close with Sir Streit."

Why on earth did noble ladies ride horses better than knights? Of all the knights I’d met, Fiel had made the most favorable impression. It wasn’t that all handsome people were likable—it was more that I’d sensed something like knightly dignity and propriety in him. I hoped we could become friends.

And if Hilda’s friend had married into the Steinhof family’s direct line, that alone created a point of connection. As expected, connections were everything in noble society. Just having a tie to the Steinhofs carried a different weight entirely—they were the most distinguished family among the duchy’s knight houses.

I hoped my family would someday earn that kind of renown. No—I meant as a proper great knight family, not through a juvenile title like the Gale Knight.

"Through this assassination attempt, I’ve come to realize just how much I’m lacking."

"Have your wounds healed?"

"I need to shake this off and get back on my feet. Incompetent as I may be, I’m still the guard captain."

"Sir Eisenach is anything but incompetent."

"I failed to properly protect His Highness. If not for you, I’d have committed the sin of taking my own life out of shame. I’m deeply grateful to you. So if you ever need me, just say the word. Even if I can’t be of much help, I’ll come running without fail."

Eisenach seemed to have been deeply affected by the Rose’s Phantom incident. Five of the nine guardsmen had died. But among the four survivors, Bay, Haumels, and Hornst—the three I’d marked as troublemakers—had all made it through. Unbelievable; those men had the lives of cockroaches. The remaining survivor was Wallenstein.

"How does it feel, hosting a banquet for the first time?"

"Not a moment’s rest. Marquis, where on earth were you?"

"What use is an incompetent old man drawing attention? Today’s protagonist is you."

Bertheim appeared last. By rank, I should have offered my thanks to Bertheim first, but he’d vanished without warning, so I’d had no choice but to start with the Administrative Minister. In any case, slipping away without anyone noticing or tucking himself out of sight was also a talent of his.

"Now you’ll be in the spotlight of noble society. Jealous factions may scheme behind your back, or others may cling to you hoping to benefit. You must learn to tell them apart. That’s the best advice this old man can offer."

"Thank you, Marquis."

The old man smiled warmly, patted my shoulder, and departed with Göring. After that, I greeted several more nobles. Perhaps because Bertheim’s advice was fresh in my mind, I noticed that the nobles’ attitudes toward me fell into two distinct types: the cold type, like the Administrative Minister, and the soliciting type, like the Judicial Minister.

The cold type was easy to read; I could tell at a glance how they felt about me. But the soliciting type was full of ambiguities. In the Judicial Minister’s case, he was on good terms with the War Minister, so I couldn’t afford to brush him off. They weren’t bitter enemies the way War and Finance were. Those two were at odds because of the budget.

The military needed funds, and Finance didn’t want to release them.

A natural conflict. On top of that, Finance controlled the purse strings, which gave them the most influence among the four ministers—and the most enemies. No one could push back against the department that held the money. So Administrative and War banded together to oppose Finance.

Judicial was hand in glove with the court clergy, maintaining cordial relations with all sides.

"Phew, finally finished."

"Good work, Wolf. Shall we celebrate, just the two of us?"

"I feel a bit guilty leaving all the cleanup behind and going home."

"That’s their job."

Under Ted and Oscar’s escort, Hilda and I returned to Rosengarden. The remaining retainers (Sabine, Hans, and Daniel) would have a rough time of it, but it couldn’t be helped. Right after arriving home, I went down to the underground wine cellar and brought up bottles of Beren wine and Roden wine. The Duchy of Beren and Roden were wine-producing regions of note even within the Holy Roman Empire.

Thanks to a cool yet temperate climate, white wine was the primary product.

Beren’s most celebrated wine in particular was southern Swabian wine.

The wine we savored together, just the two of us sitting in the romantic rose garden, tasted impossibly sweet. Though I was tired, it was a momentous day—the very first step of my journey as a knight—so I held a private celebration for just the two of us. Hilda kept leaning against me and began teasing in her subtle way.

"Hehe, Wolf. Priscilla isn’t beside me right now."

"Right now I want nothing more than to carry you to bed, but since Priscilla entrusted you to my care, I won’t lay a finger on you. So please don’t test my patience."

"No fun. I thought you’d be more worked up. Wolf doesn’t crack that easily."

"But mark my words—on our wedding night, I absolutely won’t let you sleep."

"Oh my, does Wolf not know what happens on the first night?"

Hilda asked me as if surprised. The first night was the wedding night; what else could happen? Hilda giggled watching my expression. Bewildered, I had no idea why she was laughing.

"Wolf was looking forward to the first night. Unfortunately, the bride must spend the first night not with the groom but with another man. He’s usually called the proxy groom."

"What? What are you talking about? A proxy groom?"

"It’s not what Wolf is thinking. I’ve chosen Brother Michael as the proxy groom."

Hilda explained that it was a marriage custom popular among nobles: the groom entrusted the bride to a proxy groom at the wedding venue and waited at home until all the formalities were complete. The bride spent the first night with the proxy groom, and the proxy groom passed the night pressing his leg against the bride’s. So the bride presented a male family member as the proxy groom.

She said it was a symbolic act, but I couldn’t fathom why this marriage custom existed. Hearing the explanation left me in a daze. Starting from the Night Visit, medieval marriage customs far exceeded anything I could have imagined.

The following day, I’d have to go to the bride’s house and bring her back to our home, riding in a carriage while children scattered petals before us, parading through the streets. The bride and groom’s friends and lively musicians would follow behind, playing music and dancing. In short, something like a festival procession.

That was why modern European royals held carriage parades at their weddings.

Hilda’s sisters had also chosen Michael as their proxy groom. Michael had been delighted, saying it was proof of his sisters’ trust in him. The second son hardly ever spoke, so even now I hadn’t exchanged more than a few words with him. Because of that taciturn nature, the role of proxy groom had apparently fallen to the eldest by default.

"And our true first night must be witnessed by our retainers."

"...Spending the first night in front of the retainers?"

"They won’t watch directly—the bed curtains are drawn, and they simply listen."

That was tremendously embarrassing in its own right. I wasn’t some sort of exhibitionist. Could I properly get through the first night under those conditions? Beyond that, I exchanged all sorts of stories about the wedding with Hilda—eating chicken before the wedding night, carrying the bride over the threshold, and so on.

I was already anxious.

Just hearing the descriptions, it sounded like tens of silver coins would vanish into thin air.

Since the wedding was a month away, worrying now seemed pointless, so I simply drank Swabian wine to my heart’s content. The next day, I received one curious report from Bodo. As my fame had grown, Bodo’s range of activity had expanded as well, and he’d gained access to more information through his network of cooperators.

"You discovered a merchant dealing with Rafel?"

"Yes. A friend of a friend of a friend of mine begs near the textile shop on Beien Boulevard, and among the people doing business there, one was a member of the Rafel organization."

"Is this reliable? How do you know what this organization member looks like?"

"Those guys have their own networks, same as me. Pay them enough and they’ll find out anything. Beggars are everywhere."

Hmm, Rafel. Why would vicious bastards who lured women, saddled them with crushing debts, and sold them off be doing business with merchants? Could these people be connected to that fence incident?