Using the handkerchief would have indicated my dissatisfaction with the odor in the room. Although such a gesture is usually permissible, our objective in this situation was to gather information, which required me to exercise patience.
Understanding my intention, Zeno quietly tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and followed me with a neutral expression. Prince Ramtak appeared unaware of his actions. Courtgain briefly frowned but quickly regained his composure, likely more frustrated by my summons than the odor itself. As for Valdo, he seemed unbothered, possibly accustomed to such smells from his time in the knights’ quarters.
“Thank you for the invitation, Prince Ramtak. As a gesture, I’ve brought some of our nation’s finest liquor,” I stated, while Zeno quickly handed over a box with the liquor inside.
“I appreciate your considerate gift… However, it seems you’ve arrived with quite a number of guards.”
Only Valdo and another guard joined us in the room, while more were positioned outside. Prince Ramtak furrowed his brows at the sight, probably anticipating my arrival with a lighter heart and fewer guards, trusting the invitation.
“Ah, it appears that the castle in Seahealby experiences a significant flow of visitors, particularly during the night. Given that security is often more relaxed, I believed it prudent to bring additional guards as a precaution,” I replied with a smile to Prince Ramtak, who did not hide his displeasure.
“I understand. Having people from different countries here makes sense.”
Prince Ramtak, seemingly persuaded by my explanation and unable to probe further, offered a strained smile. Yet, it was evident that he found it difficult to hide his genuine emotions. Perhaps he could improve by learning to better shield his feelings.
“Right this way. I’ve set out some of the finest liquor from our country.”
“Thank you.”
Following his lead, I sat down on the sofa he pointed to.
The table in front of us was prepared with beverages, mainly wine and Kiwis—a distinctive, amber-colored liqueur that combined bitterness and sweetness.
If the aim is to outdrink someone, focusing primarily on Kiwis could be the most effective strategy.
“Let’s raise a glass to our nations’ prosperity,” I suggested.
“To prosperity,” we all responded.
I raised the glass brimming with Kiwis for a toast and had Zeno taste it before I sipped.
“I apologize. We typically try a small sample when eating or drinking abroad for safety reasons,” I clarified.
That statement was only partially true. Although it was correct that we had a taster, not all that we ate was sampled. In fact, during the tea party with Princess Lysonna, we did not employ one.
This tasting practice was unnecessary for us, as our spirits were always present and could instantly sense any poison in our food or drink without needing to taste it.
So, why maintain a taster? It’s simple: to show that we’re always vigilant, thereby deterring any potential adversaries. The existence of spirits must remain secret. Relying solely on them and foregoing a taster entirely might invite underestimation—even trouble—from enemies thinking we’re vulnerable.
“To be this guarded,” Prince Ramtak noted with a strained smile, watching Zeno sample the drink and declare it safe before passing it back to me.
If he’s bothered by such precautions, he’ll struggle with the diplomatic complexities to come.
“Such caution is typical of royalty,” I remarked, smiling warmly as I took a sip of the tested Kiwis.
Yes, the taste is delightful.
Prince Ramtak was indeed correct; it was rather enjoyable. The liquor went down smoothly and was easy to consume, making it easy to get drunk if one wasn’t cautious. Yet, no matter how much I drank, I had never truly been drunk.
“Yet, Prince Cecil, it seems you have a challenging situation, don’t you?” After about an hour of drinking, as the alcohol began to impact Prince Ramtak, he unexpectedly introduced this topic. At first, both of us had been reserved and tense, which resulted in superficial chatter instead of substantive dialogue. However, as he became more intoxicated, he became excessively familiar, and I had been waiting for the moment he would start to inquire.
“In what way?” I asked, tilting my glass, swallowing the liquor, and then casually licking the residue from my lips.
“I’ve heard… that your wife, the princess, can be quite a challenge, often getting you into trouble?”
“Oh? Who might have said that?”
Prince Ramtak leaned in, smirking and dropping his voice a bit.
Though I was annoyed when he started to speak negatively about Bertia, I gestured to the Alphasta group to hold back their discontent. Causing a commotion would hinder my ability to discover his actual motives.
It’s frustrating, but retaliation can wait; there’s no need for it right now.
“Everyone knows,” he asserted.
“Really? It’s quite concerning that everyone knows about my wife’s whims.” And their cuteness, I added silently. I wonder who discovered this first?”
Courtgain cast a disapproving look at me, but noticing my calm demeanor while sipping from my glass, he appeared to understand there was more to my words and chose to stay silent.
Interestingly, Courtgain seemed to manage his alcohol consumption effectively, though he primarily faked drinking, as the amount in his glass barely shifted throughout the evening.
Prince Ramtak regarded Courtgain as little more than an afterthought, scarcely glancing his way. Consequently, even an apparent attempt to mimic drinking slipped under the prince’s radar as he grew a bit tipsy. On the other hand, Valdo watched us with envy while we drank. Stationed here as a guard, he had to refrain from alcohol and remained standing behind me next to Zeno.
“I can’t reveal names, but a particular young lady distressed by the princess’ whims sought my counsel. She noted, Prince Cecil, that you too appear quite affected by your wife’s unpredictable nature.”
“Is that so?” It seems the source is Lady Margone.
Concealing her name had little impact; while I received a moderate number of male visitors in this country, female guests were rare. Of the few women I interacted with, only a handful could plausibly have talked about such issues with Prince Ramtak, which made identifying the informant fairly straightforward.
She probably manipulated our interaction to fit her storyline, depicting herself as a victim to Prince Ramtak to strengthen their bond while inventing events.
I hadn’t anticipated Prince Ramtak would directly bring up such a topic.
“Indeed, whimsical women can create quite a stir. You’ve been guiding the princess, even assisting Princess Lysonna, haven’t you? How’s that experience? Isn’t it more pleasant spending time with me rather than managing those pesky women and a Crown Prince Aleis who allows such antics?”
By that reasoning, Prince Ramtak, are you suggesting I have a flaw for allegedly overlooking a fanciful wife like Bertia?
“That’s one perspective. I’m not familiar enough with you to decide…” In other words, I must decline your invitation.
“But you’re interested in getting to know me better?”
“Hmm… That’s clearly untrue.”
“It is true! So, may I assume that you will keep supporting our nation for the sake of the goddess?”
“As long as the goddess (Bertia) smiles upon us.”
“The goddess of victory appears to favor me rather cruelly, Prince Cecil. But there’s no need for concern; she consistently looks upon me with a smile.”
“I hope that the goddess—” Bertia, who might offer her favor to Seahealby but not necessarily to you “—smiles upon you as well.” Although that seems improbable.
“To the goddess (of victory).” “To the goddess (Bertia).”
By deliberately omitting words to foster confusion, I replied ambiguously, leading Prince Ramtak to cheerfully propose a toast, which I welcomed with a radiant smile. Zeno and Courtgain, both of whom were well aware of my character and genuine motives, exchanged slight, concerned looks in my direction. Nonetheless, Courtgain, in alignment with my feelings, lifted his cup, whereas Zeno chose to look away.
Valdo appeared taken aback by the deeper implications of my words. While he did not fully understand them, he sensed the mood and chose to remain silent for the moment.
I need to clarify the subtleties of this exchange to him later. I wouldn’t want him, or someone like Miss Cynthia, to propagate misunderstandings based on their misunderstandings.
“Now, let’s proceed to a special bottle I’ve kept for us to… Hmm? What’s that sound?”
As Prince Ramtak, feeling cheerful, was preparing to open the next bottle, a commotion erupted from outside. After a knock, he permitted entry, and a guard leaned in, declaring, “Prince Ramtak, Prince Izlarich is—”
“Brother! Please allow me to talk to Prince Cecil as well! I have a request for him!”
Prince Izlarich emerged, pushing aside the guard, his expression filled with desperation.
“What’s this about?” Prince Ramtak inquired, a puzzled look on his face as he turned to me, seemingly seeking my insight.
“It’s fine. Why not allow him in?” I proposed, curious about the situation as I finished my drink while Prince Izlarich entered with Prince Ramtak’s hesitant approval.