Winter Field Chapter 19

“Of course! Oldenland’s beer is truly exceptional in taste. The weather being what it is makes farming difficult, but thanks to the hot springs, there are areas with high geothermal heat. The ground doesn’t freeze there, so farming is possible. Though it may not look it, the sea is close, there are mines, and the forests are vast, so we can procure most things on our own. Though as for food, we do have to import a large quantity from other countries… But the thing is, with alcohol, the ingredients are important, but what really matters is the brewing technique, isn’t it? When it comes to the skill of making alcohol, we can truly boast. The people here love to drink so much that even if they skip meals, they never miss beer with every mealtime. In winter, alcohol is the greatest pleasure.”

“Madam, if you’re not very busy, would you like to drink together?”

“Right now? Mmm. I think I need to look in on the banquet briefly since it’s in full swing. I’ll come back quickly while you’re eating. Or shall I send Larkov up? That old fellow will be enjoying himself at the banquet hall anyway.”

Rensley quickly shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. Now that I think about it, everyone must be busy—I think I spoke carelessly. I’d better sleep in early and get a good rest tonight as well. That’s enough. From here, I’ll undress on my own.”

“Alright. Then I’ll draw the bathwater and have a meal prepared. I’ll be back soon, so just wait a little.”

If he were a real Grand Duchess, ladies-in-waiting would dress and undress him down to his undergarments, but no matter how seasoned a head lady-in-waiting she was, she could not attend to the naked body of Rensley, a man. Yet it was also difficult for a male servant to come and go alone in the chambers known to be where the Grand Duchess resided.

And neither could he truly become Grand Duke Gisel Siebendad’s consort as a real Grand Duchess.

How much longer must he go on like this, neither man nor woman, an existence neither here nor there, awkwardly suspended?

Suddenly, the memory of the cold wind that had naturally drawn tears from his eyes when he first set foot on this northern land brushed past his nose. A desolation no less than what he felt then covered his heart like dark clouds.

He whispered to himself that it wouldn’t be long, that it was only a short reprieve before a wise course was found, but once the anxiety had settled in, it did not easily fade.

Madam Samrit came pulling a wagon table laden with alcohol and food. After keeping him company in conversation for a while, she left the room, saying goodnight, as matters downstairs seemed busy. Rensley opened the window—much larger and longer than those in the Grand Duchess’s chambers—stripped off all his clothes, and immersed himself in the bathtub.

It was refreshing, as expected. Cold air blew in through the window, but beside the fireplace, his body submerged in the hot water felt no chill at all. Rensley drank beer in the bathtub.

Perhaps because it was a cold country abundant in ice, the beer of Oldenland, unlike that of Cornia, was cold enough to numb the lips. The beer Madam Samrit had proudly boasted of indeed had a depth of flavor and aroma incomparable to the alcohols Rensley had drunk until now.

This would get one drunk after just a few glasses. Soaking thoroughly in the hot bath, Rensley drank the cold beer, sweating profusely. Hot and cold, cold and hot. To be able to enjoy sensations at both extremes simultaneously. He felt as though he might become addicted at any moment to the thrill he had never experienced in a country that was lukewarm all year round.

“Ah, I’m hungry.”

Rensley reached out to the silver tray, grabbed some cheese, and swallowed it. The meat dish he tasted just in case was, as expected, tasteless. The only edible things were still just cheese and bread. The alcohol was good, but the food was tasteless, and Rensley grew a little sad.

He washed his hands in the bathtub and walked out, water dripping. He closed the window, roughly threw on a soft robe that he couldn’t even tell belonged to the Grand Duke or himself, and collapsed onto the wide, soft bed as if falling.

Because the window had been left open for a long while, the bed had chilled cold, and his body, which he had just managed to warm up, felt the cold sting. He hurriedly pulled the blanket and fur up to his chin and covered himself, but the chill did not disappear for a long time.

∞ ∞ ∞

In the round hollow carved into the center of the mechanical apparatus, a magic stone shaped into a sphere roughly the size of an adult’s fist settled perfectly into place. When a mage channeled mana into it, light began to swirl around the object that had looked like nothing more than an ordinary piece of stone.

Beep, beep, beeeep… A noise like the sound of an unskilled player blowing a flute was heard. A peculiar light entered the gazes of those watching the progression. Ooh—some even let out low murmurs of admiration. Soon, intermittent human voices mixed in with the noise. It was difficult to discern what was being said, but it was unmistakably human speech.

“A success!”

When someone among those observing the device shouted thus, the stir grew louder. However, the sound was only momentary; the voices flowing from the receiver connected to the device soon cut off. The light that had enveloped the magic stone also went out.

Amid the agitated people, Gisel Siebendad, Grand Duke of Oldenland, who had been silently watching the scene, faintly furrowed his brow.

“A failure again.”

“Nevertheless, the voices are being transmitted to some extent. If we supplement just a little more of the instability that appears during mana conversion, we should be able to succeed soon.”

At Larkov’s words, Gisel wordlessly opened the thick book placed beside him. The book, which he had read repeatedly countless times, was densely filled with notes and underlines.

As the royal mage said, the long research was showing slow but steady progress. Though the results did not always meet expectations, the fact that there was no regression meant they were receiving a return sufficient for the investment made.

Recently, the royal mages had been absorbed in research to establish a communication magic that reduced the time lag between Loudkhen and the Tirgavaim mines. The mine was a treasure trove of resources that could be called, without exaggeration, the most vital in Oldenland, but not only was it far from the city center, it was also located deep in the mountains, making it difficult to receive immediate word and respond even when accidents occurred or monsters suddenly invaded.

Successive rulers of Oldenland had long agonized over the fact that, where important mines were concerned, they always had no choice but to take measures only after something had already happened. But if this research alone could succeed, the circumstances of the Tirgavaim mine could be peered into from the very heart of Loudkhen Castle. It would mean an unparalleled advancement in the management and governance of the mine.

“Your Highness the Grand Duke, it is time for dinner.”

Around the time the mages were engaged in a heated discussion about the progressed experimental results, the door to the underground laboratory opened, and Madam Samrit the head lady-in-waiting and several servants entered. As always, food was laid out on a wagon table, but without so much as a glance at the table, he quietly instructed.

“Leave it. I will take it slowly.”

But Samrit did not withdraw from the spot immediately as she usually did.

Gisel, who had been lost deep in thought, noticed only after a moment her air of having something left to say and turned his head.

“What is it?”

“Your Highness, it has already been well over ten days since the wedding ceremony was held.”

She lowered her voice and spoke as if whispering.

Gisel indifferently counted back the days. Had that much time already passed? Barring special occasions, he lived a life going back and forth only between the laboratory and the bedchamber once his official duties ended, so he had been living without noticing the passage of time. Lately, he had been especially so, as he was concentrating on the transmission magic research.

However, though there was a difference in degree between being busier and less busy, that was simply the ordinary daily life that had been repeating ever since Gisel Siebendad ascended to the sovereign’s seat. Unable to understand why she was suddenly bringing up the wedding, he turned the pages of his book unchanged and asked.

“What of it?”

“I well understand that you are swamped with official duties, but how about paying a visit to Her Highness the Grand Duchess’s chambers even once?”

Larkov, who had been eating a sausage and cheese stuffed between bread, also approached as if just remembering. He too lowered his voice tightly so that others would not hear.

“Now that I think of it, that is true. Since the wedding ceremony ended, have you not been here doing nothing but research every single day? You are so busy that we have not even been able to discuss what to do about that person’s future, but you should at least go and visit occasionally.”

Gisel blinked slowly and looked at the two.

“Does this mean some deficiency has arisen in the hospitality? The head lady-in-waiting herself is managing the attendance, so there should be nothing lacking, and the Grand Duchess’s chambers cannot be uncomfortable to stay in.”

“That is not what I meant…”

Samrit trailed off as if at a loss, then put force into her eyes and emphasized.