Chapter 66

Chapter 66. Keeping in Check (3)

The day of my third wedding.

A massive crowd gathered in Catalonia’s grand square.

In this world, where there were few major public events, a noble wedding was more than enough to attract attention.

The Marquis of Catalonia had declared the day a public holiday.

He had also placed notices everywhere explaining the alliance between our two territories.

Thanks to that, public opinion had completely reversed and become favorable toward Marcel.

Excited residents flooded the square.

They shouted the names of both the Marquis and me while dreaming about their bright future.

“Long live our lord! Long live Eric Marcel!”

“Long live the external... free... whatever agreement! Anyway, long live it!”

Meanwhile, I personally thanked every guest.

Even though the bride was only a substitute, this was still the wedding of a ruling family.

Many influential figures attended.

Each one came to congratulate me.

Then one poorly dressed noble approached.

“Viscount Marcel, congratulations on your marriage. I am Baron Jeremy Perrier, liaison of the Perrier Territory and younger brother of Lord Matthias Perrier.”

“Thank you. Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve met a noble from Perrier.”

“I apologize. We should have visited Marcel long ago.”

“What do you have to apologize for? You must have been busy working here in Catalonia. Give Count Perrier my regards.”

Jeremy suddenly pulled a rolled letter from his clothes.

“Forgive me for presenting my lord’s letter at an occasion like this. This was my only opportunity to greet you personally.”

“It’s fine. If it is not urgent, I will read it after the wedding.”

“Of course. Thank you for understanding.”

Jeremy bowed politely and withdrew.

I handed Count Perrier’s letter to Pascal.

A short while later,

I stood behind the platform overlooking the packed crowd and grumbled.

“Mother, what do they find so interesting that this many people came?”

“Hehe. They probably came to see the bride more than you. The Marquis of Catalonia’s daughter is famous for being beautiful.”

The substitute bride this time was the Marquis’s divorced daughter.

She already had a son.

Apparently, the Marquis had tried to secretly connect us for real.

Chloe had clearly told him it was impossible.

I had no idea why he was still trying.

“It annoys me that he’s doing this even after Chloe said no.”

“I understand the Marquis. Wanting to find a good new husband for a daughter who is alone again is natural for a parent.”

“Ghh.”

“You won’t even have to see her again after the wedding. Just let it go.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Fine.

I would endure it once because everyone said his daughter was beautiful.

The ceremony soon began.

I had already been through two weddings, so I participated calmly.

When the veiled bride entered, the Catalonian bishop serving as officiant recited a prayer.

Then he suddenly said something unexpected.

“Now, seal your union with a kiss.”

I don’t really want to, but it’s only a ceremony. Fine. I’m definitely not doing it because everyone says she’s beautiful.

I lifted the bride’s veil.

Then,

She looks exactly like the Marquis of Catalonia!

Who the hell said she was beautiful?

No.

I absolutely cannot do this.

The moment our eyes met, I remembered the Marquis.

Especially the square jaw.

And the mustache.

Looks aren’t everything, but this is impossible!

I desperately signaled the officiating bishop.

He either did not notice or pretended not to.

He only coughed.

There’s no choice. I’ll pretend.

As I moved closer, the Marquis’s daughter gently closed her eyes.

Like a kiss scene in a family-friendly television drama, I slightly changed the angle, pretended our lips touched, and pulled away.

Fortunately, the old bishop’s eyesight was poor.

He completed the declaration of marriage and moved to the next part.

Phew. That was dangerous.

The Marquis’s daughter glared at me after hearing my sigh.

I was too relieved to care.

I simply smiled.

The cheering crowd conveniently drowned everything out and forced the ceremony to move on.

“Waaaaa! Long live Catalonia! Long live Marcel!”

“Annapurna, please bless Catalonia too!”

“Please, just give me a girlfriend this time!”

* * *

After the wedding, while I was resting, Pascal brought Count Perrier’s letter.

“Ah, right. That was there.”

“What could a territory that has never contacted us before want?”

“No idea. Let’s read it together.”

I spread the scroll across the table.

[To Viscount Eric Marcel.]

[I, Matthias Perrier, express my deep regret regarding the Marcel Territory’s abolition of the Hereditary Slave Law.

The slaves of Perrier have begun to grow restless, while complaints among my subjects are increasing...

Therefore, I issue a severe warning regarding this policy.

If you do not withdraw it immediately, remember that an unfortunate incident may occur.

From Matthias Perrier.]

Count Perrier’s letter was a formal protest against my abolition of the Hereditary Slave Law.

Strictly speaking, slaves were considered private property.

Whether I freed my own slaves or not was not something a neighboring lord had any right to control.

He’s looking for an excuse. Count Perrier is planning some kind of move.

“An unfortunate incident? My lord, doesn’t that sound like a threat of territorial war?”

“Over slaves? He probably exaggerated because he wanted us to feel threatened. And geographically, there are too many obstacles for us to fight easily.”

A large river and wetlands separated Marcel from Perrier.

The enormous tidal flats along Perrier’s coast also made naval operations difficult.

“And the Franche royal family wouldn’t allow it. They’re actively suppressing territorial wars.”

“Still, we should prepare for even the smallest possibility.”

“First, I’ll send a letter to Court Count Chatillon. Nothing good will come from fighting a war.”

“You want him to mediate?”

“Yes. I’ll ask him to calm down the whining bastard.”

The moment I returned to Marcel, I called Chloe.

I needed her help writing the letter to Court Count Chatillon.

First, I showed her Count Perrier’s letter.

“This is unexpected. Was Perrier backing the former Tax Officer?”

“No idea. It could still be Toulouse, like you guessed.”

Or Perrier acting under Toulouse’s control.

“What information did you gather about Count Chatillon?”

“Only commonly known information so far.”

Our intelligence network was not established enough to place spies in high noble households.

So Chloe had gathered stories from nobles, public rumors, and information known by the Heraldry Office.

I quickly read the report she handed me.

“He has a master-disciple relationship with the Roches Tower Master.”

“Yes. They are extremely close. People say their personalities are similar too. Both enjoy pranks, curiosity, gambling, and games.”

“Can we use that? What if we make the Tower Master interfere in this situation?”

“Alternatively, if Roches Mage Tower helps with canal construction, why not give Count Chatillon a financial benefit?”

That would cost too much.

On the other hand, it would increase the chance of Roches Mage Tower accepting our canal request.

If they were busy, they might simply refuse.

My head hurt.

I turned toward the map of Marcel hanging on the wall.

River, mudflats, canal, Ronalp, Perrier...

Then an idea came to me.

“How about writing the letter like this?”

I quickly filled an empty sheet.

[To the Great Leader of the People, Count Chatillon.]

[...The canal project will benefit Marcel, Ronalp, and Perrier alike.

However, because Count Perrier has... the Marcel Territory currently feels greatly threatened.

Count Perrier’s words and actions directly oppose the policy of the Franche royal family and may be considered a serious act of rebellion...

Therefore, if Your Lordship mediates this matter, I will send both the taxes and canal construction funds directly to you.

Respectfully, the loyal servant of the royal family, Eric Marcel.]

Summary.

I’m building a canal related to all three territories.

If you want money to embezzle, please control Count Perrier.

“My lord, aren’t you being extremely obvious?”

“What’s wrong with this much? Words are free. And since we’re sending a messenger anyway, let’s include a letter to Roches Mage Tower too.”

“Yes, my lord. I’ll prepare a messenger.”

Court Count Chatillon and Roches Mage Tower were both in Le Capital.

I planned to send both letters together.

And I would show the Tower Master something interesting so he became involved.

“This is important, so send Sir Berix. Tell him he can enjoy sightseeing in Le Capital while he’s there.”

If a knight served as messenger, his squires naturally accompanied him.

For safely delivering mail or packages, nothing beat a knight.

* * *

Berix had gone from unemployed knight to delivery knight.

He carried Marcel’s flag and traveled ten days by ship before reaching Le Capital.

During the final two days, the ship traveled upstream along a river.

There were no ocean waves.

He did not suffer from seasickness and enjoyed a comfortable journey.

Leaning against the railing, he laughed with his squires.

“Look at you bastards. You’ve made it big. You even get to visit Le Capital.”

“Sir Berix, didn’t you attend knight school here?”

“That’s right. If you think about it, I’m actually an incredible person.”

“Yeees, yeees.”

Berix pointed toward the Mage Towers rising high into the sky.

“Look over there. Mage Towers.”

“Ohhh! Towers can really be that tall? How many are there? One, two... Seven!”

“Would you believe me if I said mages live in those towers?”

“Amazing! Aren’t they scared because it’s so high?”

“You fucking country bumpkin.”

The squire, still barely more than a boy, became annoyed.

“...I’m from the same hometown as you, Sir Berix. That makes you a country bumpkin too.”

“Hehehe. True, true.”

Berix rubbed the young squire’s shaved head.

Following Eric’s instructions, he first headed toward Roches Mage Tower.

Several hours later, Berix met the Tower Master.

“I am Gaston, Tower Master of Roches. You came from the Marcel Territory?”

“Yes. I brought a letter from my lord.”

“Give it here.”

The letter itself contained little.

Eric wanted to dig a canal and requested that the Tower Master visit his territory to inspect the route and prepare an estimate.

There was also a single map showing the planned canal route.

“Is this everything?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Gaston frowned while thinking.

Then he noticed another letter in Berix’s hand.

Berix was holding it almost as if it were intentionally visible.

Gaston was naturally curious.

He could not resist asking.

“Who is that letter for?”

“Court Count Chatillon.”

“Are you allowed to reveal the recipient?”

“No, but my lord said, ‘If the Tower Master asks to see it, just show it to him.’”

Why?

Gaston had worked in Le Capital’s Mage Towers for many years.

Even so, this was a first.

Who in the world predicted that someone would ask to read another person’s letter?

Gaston himself certainly planned to ask.

Eric Marcel really is an interesting man.

“Show me.”

Berix handed him the letter.

Gaston read it slowly.

Then he smiled.

He looked again at the canal route drawn on the map.

“Hahaha. How interesting. I’ve seen enough. Take it back.”

“Then I will head to Court Count Chatillon.”

Gaston stopped the rising Berix.

“One more question. What kind of man is your lord, Eric Marcel?”

“Hmm. Merciful, but frightening.”

“Frightening? Is he cruel?”

“He can be endlessly merciful, then suddenly become coldly rational. And how should I put it... he’s someone difficult to approach casually. Getting close feels like stepping near a sword blade.”

“Ohhh. He must possess an unusual presence.”

“Something like that.”

In reality, what Berix felt was the thin layer of mana Eric spread when using his senses.

Berix simply had unusually sharp mana perception.

It was a misunderstanding.

However, that misunderstanding made Gaston even more curious.

“Tell Viscount Marcel that I will personally visit soon.”

“You will build the canal yourself?”

“I haven’t moved around in a long time. This sounds entertaining.”

“Yes, Tower Master.”

Gaston smiled while looking at the map again.

Funny bastard. He even used the fact that I’m close with Chatillon. Poor Count Perrier. He chose the wrong opponent. And...

The canal began in the middle section of the river.

That exact point was where the borders of Marcel, Ronalp, and Perrier met.

Eric Marcel, what exactly are you planning? Hehehe.

Gaston began preparing to visit Count Chatillon.

If he wanted to watch something entertaining, shouldn’t he first stop the fight before it ended too early?