Comparing adult specimens of both showed much greater physical capabilities on the dash drakes’ side, yet being hatched rather than born meant that they were smaller to begin with and took at least ten years of rearing before they were able to work as mounts. As Pujol said, that wasn’t a benefit as a military resource. It was all too likely that an engagement would lead to a reduction in numbers, and the drakes were far less suited to quickly raising replacements.
“Above all, I must say I envy your nation’s smithing capabilities. Sir Völundr recently agreed to create a spear for me, and I have to admit it is all that is on my mind each night, despite how childish such excitement feels.”
Yngvi blinked in slight surprise. “Did Her Majesty order it?”
“No, it was his own generosity.”
“Incredible! There are precious few warriors recognized by him even in our homeland. Frankly, this is the first time I have heard of him making such an offer. You must be a truly exceptional combatant.”
Yngvi was now certain that his first impression of the marshal was correct. The smith’s estimation of a warrior was solely based on their capabilities on the front line. Absolutely none of it was due to leadership or command ability. For him to personally offer up a weapon of his own making was proof positive that Pujol’s skills were far beyond the norm.
“I maintain my skills enough that I will bring no shame upon my position,” Pujol replied. He had no reason to be humble in terms of his standing, his actual skills, or his personality, and though he did phrase it somewhat indirectly, he still made his position clear.
“Considering those skills will be protecting the country and that Lady Freya is of the same blood as me, I have to say it is heartening to hear.”
“They will be indeed. Still, I cannot monopolize your time for the entire evening, so we will take our leave here.”
“Excuse us,” said Lucinda.
“Of course, some other time,” Yngvi replied.
The three parted, smiles on each of their faces. Once the marshal and his wife had left, the next pair to approach the prince were conspicuous among the guests—a prince with blond hair and a princess with chestnut-brown hair that shimmered with silver.
“Ah, Prince Yngvi, might we take some of your time?” the former, Francesco, called with a grin.
“It is an honor to meet you,” Bona added, politely bowing her head as she followed behind.
Yngvi welcomed the two with a broad smile. “No, the honor is mine. I would be glad to be able to take some of your time, Prince Francesco, Princess Bona.”
Francesco—or rather, the country he represented—was a somewhat contentious topic as far as Uppasala was concerned. The Twin Kingdoms of Sharou-Gilbelle was a country formed from the remnants of the White Empire—a historical enemy of the church. That country had essentially ambushed Uppasala with a “symbol of friendship” in the form of the Lulled Sea that Freya had received from them. Inevitably, therefore, Uppasala was in a position against the church, on friendly terms with the Twin Kingdoms.
The results were not bad overall. The country was already one of the minority of animistic nations that didn’t have a good relationship with the church by any means. There were also definite advantages to a positive relationship, so the nation wasn’t against the current situation. Being forced into it by a trick, however, was another matter. They had to settle things in some way or they would be a laughingstock. Put bluntly, they couldn’t afford to ignore appearances.
That said, demonstrating their displeasure here and now against the prince and princess wouldn’t help Uppasala either. Yngvi understood that, so he was treating the pair as individual members of the royal family rather than representatives of their country.
“I see that the Twin Kingdoms are advanced in not only magic items, but the spells themselves as well. Those static flames are superb, and I would truthfully be interested in purchasing several,” he said, earnest in his praise. The reason for his response was the idea that Zenjirou had partially come up with: the magic tool version of this item was, as the name implied, a flame that was completely static. It was fixed within metal netting and could even be used on a rocking ship. This meant that as long as the metal wasn’t damaged, the flame wouldn’t be able to spread.
Uppasala’s main port of Logfort was a nonfreezing harbor, which meant that ships departed even during the winter. The port didn’t freeze due to the ocean currents, and the air temperature was usually below that of the water. Even so, ships set sail. Not only large trading ships, but smaller fishing vessels as well. There were fish that could still be caught during the winter months and those that could be caught only during those months. It was easy to see just how valuable a flame that could be maintained without fear of spreading would be.
“Those were His Majesty’s idea,” Francesco said. “Personally, I feel they were very worthwhile to make. The core is simple, so they can be created in a surprisingly short period.”
As far as the magic tool portion of things was concerned, it was just about turning the spell itself into an item. Enclosing it with the metal mesh and attaching the clamp to fix it in place on the ship was merely structural.
Yngvi’s eyes gleamed at the “surprisingly short period” part of the other prince’s statement. “Oh, is that so? How long, exactly?”
“Not even two months,” Francesco replied.
“Indeed, that would be roughly the time frame,” Bona agreed.
The excitement on Yngvi’s face dropped by half at that. As Francesco had said, two months was an extremely short time to create a magic tool, but it was far from what Yngvi had hoped for. He wanted mass production of the tools. A safe flame on a ship in the winter would make sailing and fishing far more convenient. One or two rare items would be pointless from that perspective, since they would need tens at least, preferably hundreds.
Francesco must have inferred from Yngvi’s expression that it was not the answer he was hoping for. “All magic tool creation takes time. If you like, I could modify some of my own? I could only part with two, though,” he suggested with a rueful smile.
“I could do likewise,” Bona added. “Though only the one.” Her hair sparkled as she smiled.
Static flames in the Twin Kingdoms were used for lighting, not heating, so most royals had a certain number of their own. Those like Francesco or Bona, who were particularly skilled in their craft, would often work through the night and absolutely needed light. Simply fixing a clamp to the bottom and enclosing the flame would not take a huge amount of time. Two or three items would not meaningfully change the national situation, but they could be used on the most important vessels during the winter.
“I would be most grateful. Would similar payment to His Majesty be acceptable?”
“That would be fine.”
While Francesco might have been an oddity of a royal, he still had enough common sense that he could manage at social events.
“I must say, Your Highness,” he said, “I can feel your determination to push Uppasala forward in every word and action you take. I rather respect it.”
Francesco’s words were not flattery, they were how he truly felt. Everything the silver-haired prince had done and said was fundamentally based on a desire to strengthen his country. That included his interest in the dash drakes, his desire for the static flames, and his initiative in intercontinental trade.
Even the main thrust of the night—searching for a wife—fell into that category. He had interacted with the women using fine manners, but those with decent insight could tell that his attention was more on the positions and statuses of the guardians behind them, which was neither bad nor particularly special. In fact, it was practically expected for a member of royalty.
The prince laughed. “Hearing such praise is rather embarrassing. I am simply doing what I should as a member of the royal family.” Indeed, he wasn’t being humble; that was how he truly felt.
Meanwhile, Francesco was someone who, if there was an exam for becoming royalty or nobility, would easily fail it, fail the retake, and then somehow make up enough extra credit to pass the course anyway.
“Not at all,” Francesco said. “Your actions are not merely ‘what you must do.’ They show an uncommon amount of zeal and superb initiative. I could never hope to imitate you.”
Yngvi’s expression stiffened for the briefest of moments as the other prince spread his arms out into a shrug. He replaced it with a smile quickly enough, though. “Indeed, my actions are of my own will rather than mere obligation to the royal family. However, I imagine you must be far too modest to say you could not imitate it.”
In contrast to Yngvi’s smile, Francesco had a completely open look on his face as he shook his head. “Not at all. I would never manage to muster the motivation.”
“Prince Francesco! Your phrasing!”
True or not, Francesco’s admission was not something to be publicly stated, so Bona was frantic.
Yngvi stalled for a moment before gathering himself. “Do not concern yourself with me, Princess Bona. Uppasala is a militaristic nation, so such forthright statements are far from rare. Still, I suppose a problem with your own motivation would be difficult to overcome,” he replied tactfully.