Anyway, I paid my respects to everyone worth visiting, and by then I’d handed out nine pepper pouches in all. Michael, the crown prince, the grand duke, my father-in-law, Margareta, Ulrich, the three western princes, and so on.
But it seems word got around that I was handing out pepper.
"It’s such a shame you’re leaving so soon, Baron."
"If you ever come east again, I’ll serve you with my whole heart."
"Haha, you’ve tried Swabian cuisine before, yes? It pairs best with pepper!"
Suddenly nobles were coming to see me off before my departure for Breisburg, trading pleasantries and farewells. They were counting their chickens before the eggs had hatched.
Naturally, I gave no pepper to that lot. I intended to hand these pouches out strategically, only to people who could be of use to me. Honestly, nobles have no shame at all.
"Thank you for seeing me off, Your Highness."
"Between the two of us, Baron, this much is only natural. Give Lily my regards."
"Ah, so that was your real motive."
"The royal palace is mostly in order now, so I’ve received permission to bring Lily in. Next summer, I’ll formally receive Lady Rudelich as crown princess."
Next summer, huh.
I’d like to see the ceremony before I’m dispatched to Austria.
But circumstances are always shifting, and things never go the way I want. All the same, part of me wants to see that girl, who’s like a little sister to me, in her wedding veil.
For Viola, who was pregnant, I procured an especially fine carriage and did everything I could to keep it from jostling. I put Ivan in charge of it and had it disguised to look like a carriage carrying valuables.
Viola seemed thrilled to be leaving Radensdorf for the first time in her life. Ivan and his wife waited on her hand and foot. After all, Viola was the hope of the fallen Rijeka family.
With all preparations complete, I walked toward Mont Blanc under the escort of the Gale Knights, who stood in formation from the west gate onward. Mont Blanc had been in a foul temper since morning, because he’d been forced down onto his knees.
I told them there was no need, but the new members of noble birth had arranged it, insisting it was unthinkable for a prince to clamber up ungracefully on his own. I’ll have to buy Mont Blanc some sugar cubes to smooth things over.
Chrysos, with his beautiful golden mane, was entrusted to Oscar and Ted. They marveled, asking where on earth I’d found such a magnificent animal. He had been a prize of the Geerhilt family’s stables, a gift from the crown prince.
I put Drek at the head of the column.
Directly under him, I assigned Barosi and Herto.
I hoped Drek would use the chance to grow closer to the Hungarian members.
"Leave it to me! As the man at the front, I’ll lead without a single lapse!"
"Your shoulders are too stiff. Relax and lead naturally."
"But the weight of your trust sits heavy on my shoulders, Baron!"
What am I supposed to do with that?
This noble, who had more than a touch of the idler in him, swelled with pride when I, a prince, permitted him to take the lead. He had proved his worth in the Schafen campaign by capturing its lord.
For a man who until recently had been scraping by as a poor court noble in the capital, far from his hometown of Offenburg, it must have felt like a whole new world. And the rear of the march went to Ferke.
This was where my evaluations of them slowly began to diverge.
Like classmates who enter in the same year and then rise at different speeds.
I could see the disappointment on his face, but it couldn’t be helped. The order of the march was also the order of my trust. He had passed on the Schafen campaign to attend the Christmas celebration.
He’s a devout Christian, so I can understand his choice, but it was regrettable all the same, in more ways than one. I gave Beort an independent assignment, and I trusted Drek enough to put him at the front. Ferke I did not.
He’ll need to straighten out his mindset a bit more.
Ted, who’d been looking around, seemed overcome with emotion.
"Oscar, the master’s standing is even higher than we thought."
"Of course it is. He didn’t just put down the civil war; he rose to become a prince."
My standing had risen beyond any comparison with the days when I first became lord of Feuzen. Going from a small village to ruling an entire region was an enormous leap. The weight class itself had changed.
"Ted, sometimes I think back to when we first met the master. Such fond memories."
"Fond memories? That damned Deputy Inspector General sent us to spy on him! That bastard is surely burning in the flames of purgatory right now, paying for what he did. Damn him!"
"Still, we do owe him. He’s the one who connected us to the master."
"We’re here because the Lord’s grace was with us. We owe that man nothing!"
Ted despised Rüdiger, his former superior, who by all accounts could never torment him enough. Though according to Oscar, that was because Ted slacked off so often.
By the way, these two seemed to have forgotten that I was right beside them.
"I can hear every word, you know."
"Yikes, our apologies! Oscar, this is your fault!"
Ted, who’d been working himself into a lather cursing the late Rüdiger, turned sheepish at my words. Oscar shook his head and clicked his tongue, saying Ted still carried a grudge from all the hazing back in those days.
"Son-in-law, give Hilda my regards, and help Loewenbert, who’s probably surrounded by old foxes in the capital. That boy isn’t cut out for politics, so they’re most likely leading him around by the nose to their hearts’ content."
"Even so, would the ministers really dare do that to the Capital Sentinel Commander?"
"You don’t know the half of it! Scheming is all those bastards do! I’m counting on you."
Fair enough. Viscount Loewenbert is the very picture of a steadfast soldier, far removed from politics. That’s probably why my father-in-law appointed him Capital Sentinel Commander.
He’s the type who won’t pull any funny business while his lord is away.
And by the same token, he could be that much easier for the ministers to exploit.
"Don’t worry, father-in-law. I’ll kick those old foxes in the rear on your behalf."
"Gahahaha! That’s my son-in-law! Get a kick in for me too! Especially that Reinfeldt bastard!"
It seems my father-in-law hadn’t yet heard the news that the Finance Minister was dead.
I had only learned of the poisoning the day before myself, and given that the grand duke hadn’t told my father-in-law, the man must have had some other scheme in mind.
In that case, keeping my mouth shut was the right answer. This is how the grand duke tests me. And that test never ends. The grand duke is the kind of man who reads people through even the smallest things.
"Move out!"
"Cavalry, mount up!"
"Vanguard, move out!"
Leaving behind the farewells of the War Minister’s family and the nobles we’d formed ties with, we headed west toward Dellingen. As always, this now-peaceful land saw no incidents to speak of, aside from bandits.
Bandits do pop up now and then, so why call it peaceful? Because it’s a million times better than enemy troops roaming around. Bandits plunder a village and bolt, but enemy troops destroy it outright.
That’s a far bigger difference than you’d think.
Things have come to the point where merely being plundered is the better outcome.
And in this civil war, I was on the plundering side. I never once plundered with my own hands, but the western princes’ armies and the ducal army didn’t hesitate to pillage enemy villages once they had taken them.
"These are the ones we took prisoner."
"P-please spare us! We’ll never turn to banditry again!"
"We’re taking them to Rosenheim. We can work them as serfs."
"Bandits as serfs? Isn’t that a bit much?"
Serfs are one thing, but taking in bandits as serfs is practically unheard of. Mine slaves or galley rowers, maybe. The thing is, the saltpeter business needs hands willing to wade through the urine vats.
Markus and his family were following along at the rear. I can’t guarantee how the business will turn out, but with the help of a passive skill, shouldn’t we be able to produce high-quality saltpeter?
I mustn’t push them hard from the start.
Getting the saltpeter business on track will take at least a few years.
"Baron, we’ll ride ahead and report."
"I’d appreciate that. Thank you for your trouble."
The Beren Lance Cavalry, who had been escorting Oscar and Ted, went on ahead. We were passing through Dellingen, but I had no plans to stop at Neuschwan, seat of the Neustadt family, counts of Dellingen.
The Beren Lance Cavalry we’d sent ahead returned just as the sun was beginning to set.
"We’ve received orders to escort you to Hallingen with all courtesy, Baron."
"Sorry, but we were planning to make camp around here."
"Hallingen isn’t far, and it sits along the road to Breisburg. Why not stay the night there? The commander is waiting for you."
"Is that so? It’s been a while. I suppose I should pay Cavalry Commander Pensler a visit."
Since we had to pass through anyway, we entered Hallingen.