“This is a matter of Your Excellency’s honor. What could you possibly lack? Shouldn’t we reject Julius this time, saying we’re not interested?”

Tristan spat out, as if indignant.

“They have their uses.”

Arthur continued nonchalantly.

“I need a foundation. This place will be a good base.”

Tristan’s face crumpled at the unfavorable evaluation of Julius.

“There’s the Imperial family and ‘Roas*’ too, isn’t there? Wouldn’t they be more reliable? How can you trust Julius, who only arranged a sham marriage, to be a good base…”

“Because it’s the homeland of the people I trust most.”

The impending nagging stopped abruptly.

Taking a bite of an apple, Arthur rummaged through the fruit basket as he continued.

“And my honor lies with you all, not with Julius. Returning alive with you is my greatest honor and pride. The likes of Julius can’t tarnish that honor.”

Tristan, who had been silent, finally turned his head and let out an exasperated sigh.

Their commander-in-chief would occasionally say such things so casually.

Even with the backing of the Imperial family, he’d say this place is his most trustworthy homeland because it’s your homeland.

If another nobleman had said it, he would have thought it was just a glib tongue, but having spent the past five years with Arthur, Tristan couldn’t disparage his words.

He was a man who proved his words through actions.

And it was their greatest pride that Arthur, being such a person, always counted the soldiers of Julius who shared life and death with him as the most trustworthy people.

“…We’ll have to be on our toes so as not to embarrass Your Excellency.”

Arthur chuckled and said, “No need. Just do as you’ve always done,” but Tristan knew too.

The war was over.

And this was no longer the battlefield they had conquered.

Now, a new battlefield awaited them ahead.

It would probably be a battlefield where their previous bravery and martial prowess wouldn’t be of much help.

As frustrating as it was, he wasn’t entirely clueless about why Arthur needed Julius.

“The apples are good. Try one.”

Catching the apple Arthur tossed him, Tristan asked.

“…What are you going to do?”

To Tristan’s question, Arthur leaned back in his chair and muttered.

“Well. Let’s meet the ‘real wife’ first and then think about it.”

Tristan grumbled softly as he wiped the apple on his clothes.

“Real wife, my foot. She’s probably just a woman who came for money anyway.”

Arthur just shrugged with a smile on his face.

* * *

‘This can’t be. This just can’t be. How could I have become a Prince-Elector? How could I have gotten this position?’

The Marquis of Julius was on the verge of going mad with rage.

The ink on the seals of the documents recognizing him as a Prince-Elector by the Emperor and the Papal Curia had barely dried.

The portrait with the glorious title of Princeps Elector Imperii (Prince-Elector) elegantly inscribed below the Marquis of Julius’s chest wasn’t even completed yet.

* * *

Julius is one of the top nobles in the Empire.

The owner of the most fertile territory on the continent, a marquis family of financial power commanding wealth surpassing even the Imperial family.

There was a time when they struggled among nobles who looked down on merchant families, but after rising to the undisputed rank of the Empire’s top merchant and great noble, no one could disregard them anymore.

But even for the financially powerful Julius, who was said to be able to obtain anything on the continent, there was something they had long desired but couldn’t have, and that was the name of ‘Prince-Elector’.

Prince-Elector refers to a prince with the authority to elect the Emperor of the Empire.

Usually, the Emperor would put forward an outstanding individual among his children as the Crown Prince, and the princes would respect his legitimacy, thus carrying out the imperial succession,

But in cases where the Emperor died without an heir, or if it was deemed difficult for the successor to inherit the throne despite having an heir, the Prince-Electors would elect the next Emperor from among themselves through meetings and votes.

In other words, Prince-Elector was the name of power given only to the most honorable and noble aristocrats, right below the Emperor.

Prince-Electors were always required to have a high level of justification and honor that the people could agree with,

Because after all, the position of Prince-Elector could potentially produce the next Emperor if the situation called for it.

About 40 years ago, when the previous imperial family ended without an heir, it was in this way that Alexander Rusaik II, the current Crown Prince’s grandfather, rose from Prince-Elector to become the new Emperor.

He was an honorable knight beloved by the people of the Empire, a noble hero who led the war to victory and saved the Empire.

The majority of the Empire’s people expected this young hero’s succession to the throne as a matter of course, and Rusaik and the honorable Prince-Electors responded to the people’s call.

Through this decision, the Prince-Electors further elevated the support of the Empire’s people and their own honor.

It was at this moment that the Marquis of Julius of that time, Ronald Julius, Christina’s grandfather, who had been going his own way as the Empire’s unrivaled rich man with nothing to envy, first began to waver with the emotion of ‘envy’.

What a perfect sense of alienation.

He had passed a law exempting families with only one male from conscription through financial lobbying, and felt no shame in being opportunistic during wartime, but seeing others enjoy the glory of victory while he alone was left out made him think maybe he should have joined in and made him jealous.

Even then, he didn’t feel like pursuing honor at the expense of financial power.

His motto was that gaining fame in war only led to money leaking out and wounds as the only glory.

Of course, with such fertile land, even if the marquis wasn’t interested in war, war would be interested in the marquis, but let’s talk about that later.

The problem arose next.

Even to others, ‘Julius who only cared about his own interests’ seemed quite unsightly.

Ronald Julius, the Empire’s richest man, suffered the shocking humiliation of being repeatedly rejected by the ladies of noble families he had secretly desired.

Of course, at first, most of the letters were written with some courtesy, such as ‘Thank you for your interest, but we respectfully decline’, or ‘We respectfully decline as it seems our family traditions differ from your intentions’,

But when even the ‘lower-ranking’ families that Ronald Julius thought would never reject him did so, he angrily made quite a few verbal blunders in front of people,

And afterwards, he suffered the embarrassment of receiving all sorts of insults, from ‘Rejected because I’m not so desperate for money as to sell my pride’, ‘Rejected because I’m not such a materialist’, to ‘It’s shameful to receive a proposal from you’, which even made it into the newsletters.

By that point, rejecting a proposal from him as spectacularly as possible had become a sort of sport among the nobles, and even the brazen Ronald Julius was left dazed by this level of humiliation.

Alexander Rusaik II, the knight who ascended to the imperial throne amidst applause, gained power surpassing Julius,

And the Margrave of Dilroa, who had always struggled with financial issues, took over the massive mining business that Julius had been eyeing for a long time.

But Ronald Julius, despite having so much money, couldn’t even get married, suffered a string of humiliations, and lost the coveted business he was confident he could run much better.

It was only then that Julius was finally able to objectify his situation.

Julius was the only one among the Empire’s top nobles who had not become a Prince-Elector.

This was because Julius had the unattractive history of being notorious as a terrible miser, the epitome of the saying ‘the haves wanting more’.

The majority of the Empire’s people thought that ‘Julius’ only had money and was not honorable.

And a dishonorable name could not become a ‘Prince-Elector’.

Julius himself, who thought he had everything, was barely scraping by in that aspect.

After recognizing this fact, Ronald Julius began to strive to clear his dishonor.

For Julius, who was a penny-pincher by nature, it was not an easy process.

Becoming honorable was not only expensive, but there were also many obligations to fulfill if one didn’t want to lose face.

There were so many things to give up that seemed to have no reason.

Having more things not to do than things to do was even more difficult.

The ‘list of gaffes’ from past misdeeds also held him back.

In the end, the Marquis of Julius of that generation, Ronald Julius, who had accumulated too much negative history, passed away without fulfilling his dream,

It was only in the generation of his son Antonio Julius and granddaughter Christina Julius that their long efforts finally bore fruit.

Even then, unable to escape from the shadow of ‘Julius’, they struggled between their innate greed for money and learned desire for honor,

Until they hit the jackpot in the marriage business by selling off their only daughter to the Emperor’s illegitimate child, and Julius had just added his name to the list of ‘Prince-Electors’ that had seemed so distant.

* * *

“Hah, to think I’d live to see a day like this. A victory celebration charity festival hosted by the Marquis’s family!”

“Here, try this too. My goodness, to think I’d eat something like this in my lifetime.”

“Wow, does the Marquis’s family eat this kind of food every day?”

The people of the Marquis’s domain raised their glasses and toasted boisterously as they tore into whole roast pigs placed here and there in the streets and squares.

“Phew! The beer is amazing.”

“Oh, here comes more!”

Before long, the pig carcasses with only bones left were cleared away, and steaming turkey meat was served.

Endless meat dishes were brought out on carts, and people crowded around the tables, frantically receiving alcohol and meat.

People ate and drank, while street painters leisurely gnawed on meat as they captured the scene on their canvases.

“By the way, what happened to Lord Arthur? Did he meet with Miss Christina?”

“Come to think of it, you went to the victory square, didn’t you? Did you hear anything?”

While some people among those distracted by the meat came to their senses and sporadically raised questions, most were summed up like this:

“Oh, yeah, they met! But I couldn’t hear well. I might have misheard. Won’t it be in the newsletter? Oh, the alcohol’s here, alcohol! Hurry, get in line! That looks like wine!”

People rushed to line up as they saw the Marquis’s servants approaching with carts loaded with oak barrels.

Of course, the homecoming ceremony of a war hero and the reunion of the couple of the century were interesting matters, but such things were less important than the food right in front of them that might end at any moment.

The temple recorders and newsletter reporters who arrived late lamented missing important scenes and were busy recording the jubilant atmosphere.

【 Lord Arthur arrives earlier than expected. Reunion with the Marquis of Julius’s daughter… 】

【 Julius hosts a grand victory banquet throughout the streets… 】

* * *

At the returning army’s camp set up in front of the Julius domain.

The Marquis of Julius and his wife, who had just completed a tour of the domain where an untimely festival was taking place, were guided by knights towards Commander Arthur’s tent.

An enormous amount of food was being delivered to the military camp as well, but the atmosphere was quite different from the streets.

While soldiers were sporadically enjoying alcohol and food, there was a somewhat subdued atmosphere,

The soldiers who noticed the Marquis and his wife being guided towards Arthur’s tent either looked at them with cold eyes or sneered.

Some soldiers briefly glanced at them before ignoring them and polishing their weapons, while others glared at them and even spat, “Ptui!”

Not a single person showed them respect.

What was more serious was that no one was restraining this atmosphere.

As the Marquis’s face grew red with anger, the Marchioness’s expression became increasingly pale.

‘I hope my husband notices this dangerous sign…!’

Finally, they arrived in front of the Commander-in-Chief’s tent.

“Commander-in-Chief, Your Excellency. The Marquis has come to see you.”

Enraged to the tips of his hair at the knight’s behavior of leaving them standing in front of the tent and asking Arthur for permission to enter, the Marquis pushed him aside and went in.

The Marchioness, who had failed in her attempt to grab the Marquis and whisper in his ear, hurriedly followed him.

As Tristan inside the tent moved to restrain the Marquis with his sword, Arthur raised one hand to stop him.

“Don’t, Tristan.”

The weapon that was about to ruthlessly push against the Marquis’s chest stopped just before touching him and was withdrawn with discipline.

The Marquis, who had glared at Tristan as if to kill him, barely managed to avert his gaze and growled towards Arthur, gritting his teeth.

“…Lord Arthur.”

Arthur, who had risen a beat late at the Marquis’s call, smiled blandly.

“Marquis, Your Excellency.”

The Marquis made an ambiguous expression, either smiling or baring his teeth.

As soon as Arthur nodded for Tristan to step back, the Marquis opened his mouth.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Arthur raised one eyebrow as if he didn’t understand what the Marquis meant, keeping his smiling face.

“That’s what I’d like to ask. What’s going on here?”

The Marquis’s eyes widened at Arthur’s attitude.

“What?”

Arthur continued.

“Did my wife disappear in the meantime? Why are you presenting another young lady instead of my wife?”

“…!”

The Marquis, at a loss for words, opened his mouth.

Inwardly, the Marquis hadn’t thought Arthur would openly make an issue of this matter in this way.

He had been thinking that even if they both knew, if he just put things back as they were, subtly, Arthur would just give a bitter smile and let it pass.

He had thought that earlier, Arthur had rashly blurted out such words in front of people due to a momentary lapse in judgment, and that he must be regretting it now.

“You… you.”

How could he do this while also bearing the name of Julius, unless he wanted them to go down together?

Unable to hold back any longer, the Marchioness stepped forward.

“Lord Arthur.”

Arthur’s gaze turned to the Marchioness.

The Marchioness spoke, trying to maintain her composure.

“That girl is indeed your wife, Christina.”

Arthur smiled without batting an eye.

“Marchioness, can’t you even recognize your own daughter? I’m telling you she’s not the woman I married.”

The Marchioness’s voice rose in protest.

“That child is Christina! The top lady of high society!”

—

*Roas: A viscount family. Known as the humble noble family that adopted and raised Arthur.