The second prince of Uppasala—though also its crown prince—Yngvi Uppasala had been teleported back to his homeland by his brother-in-law Zenjirou. He had a slight build for a Svean man, and he was practically skipping through the palace. He was even humming as he moved. That’s how beneficial he’d found his time in Capua.
He had heard of its stature and power from his older brother Eric and his younger (though officially older) sister Freya, but personally experiencing it had really brought it home. Capua was without a doubt a powerful country. It was also home to different vegetation, livestock, and even clothing than the Northern Continent. Despite all that, their basic values and ways of thinking seemed compatible. Perfect for a trade partner.
The difference in flora and fauna meant that what was commonplace in one country was a potentially valuable rarity in the other. The commonalities in thinking and values meant that coming to agreements was easier.
The world was a big place. There were groups that took what they felt they were owed by force, and there were others that kept their agreements and considered doing so a virtue. There were even tribes that didn’t have a concept of individual ownership. In comparison, Capua’s values were close enough to Uppasala’s that they could consider them to not be a problem.
There was a tacit agreement that Yngvi’s second wife would come from that country. The candidate was a fairly intelligent woman who had plenty of training for her station, and above all, Yngvi held her guardian in high esteem. He was an intelligent, balanced figure that ruled a huge territory. He used both his position as a high-ranking noble and his own lands well and distinctly, so he held a strong position in the palace as well. He was an impressive man, that much was certain.
Yngvi was sure the count would be a reasonable father-in-law. Naturally, “reasonable” was from the perspective of royalty and nobility. He had a route to his second wife from a different, but powerful, country. On top of that, her guardian was highly placed within that country. It was perfect. It was the start of a path to lead Uppasala to even greater heights than he had initially hoped for.
He traveled, light of foot and heart alike, to report to his father. However, the atmosphere within the palace soon changed his gait. “Atmosphere” didn’t refer to the literal meaning of the word, of course. It was the distinct change in how people seemed as he passed them that created the vibe in question.
Those who worked so close to the king’s personal office were particularly exceptional, so there was no change visible at a glance. Yngvi had been around them since he was young, though, so he could feel the weight of the tiny changes combined. The silent bows of attendants as he passed them were slightly longer than usual. The hardworking, trusted maids’ eyes widened slightly when they saw him. Older warriors famed for calm watched him head towards his father with curiosity in their eyes.
While everything seemed normal at a glance, that was a result of the people in question putting in an effort to act as they normally did. There was a difference between actually acting normal and purposefully putting on an act, and Yngvi could sense that difference. Therefore, as he knocked on his father’s door, his bouncy steps had vanished, and he was tense as he prepared himself for whatever was awaiting him.
“I have returned, father,” he said once he was bade enter. “Everything has gone well for me, so I would like to hear how things are here first.”
His words and actions were as polished as would be expected from a prince, but his voice was hurried. The king let out a sigh that was purposefully loud enough that his son could hear it, but made no other comment on how his son had greeted him. Indeed, Yngvi’s opinion was correct. The information that most needed to be shared was from the Northern Continent. That was particularly true if—as Yngvi said—everything had gone well on the Southern Continent.
“Very well. Sit.”
“Of course, father.”
As he sat opposite his king and father, Yngvi surveyed his expression and let some tension fall from his shoulders. While Gustav had a good enough poker face for a sitting king, the combination of Yngvi’s insight and familiarity with his father was better. Therefore, he already knew—there had been some kind of big event on the Northern Continent, and it was known across the entire continent in question. But, for better or worse, it would not affect Uppasala in the short term. Or at least that was how Gustav saw things.
With that certainty, Yngvi let his shoulders relax and his expression smoothed into a relaxed look. That relaxation was quickly blown away, though.
“So, as you wish, I shall inform you of what has happened here. Priest Yan has been spotted.”
“What?” Even Yngvi stumbled mentally at that. “Um, father? Just to make sure, there are many people called Yan in the commonwealth and bordering nations, so is the Priest Yan you are talking about that Priest Yan?”
If you looked at either denomination of the faith, there would be several priests called “Yan.” That was just how common the name was. Generally, though, if someone said Priest Yan, they were talking about the dean of dracology from Bohevia. A priest who had been captured as a heretic and burned at the stake.
“That Priest Yan, without a doubt,” his father agreed.
“I’ve heard rumors that he had been put to death, though.”
Yngvi had heard of his capture just before going to the Southern Continent, so he wasn’t entirely caught up on the recent happenings in the North. However, every time Zenjirou had sent diplomats or guards between the two countries when the climate became too much for them, there was a slight amount of information exchange. Of course, it went without saying that Zenjirou was the one traveling between the two continents the most frequently.
Now that this latest information was incompatible with what he had heard, the silver-haired, blue-eyed prince pressed his father for an answer.