The rumor that Pelehar, Arkan’s cousin and the late king’s nephew, known as the Duke of Sonetum, had returned to Bethor, to the royal palace, spread in an instant.

Originally, the nobles of Bethor liked to gossip while pretending to be sophisticated and polite to each other.

Whenever two or three people gathered, there was no name that didn’t come up, and most of it was sarcasm disguised as jokes and chatter, but Arkan and Pelehar were completely exempt from those mask-like laughs.

“Where might His Highness Pelehar have been this time?”

“There will be a ball, won’t there? His Majesty always does that when His Highness returns. I wonder what interesting stories he’ll tell us!”

“Come to think of it, it was last year, wasn’t it? When Count Shupon’s daughter fell in love with His Highness Pelehar, and insisted she’d rather not marry at all if not him, causing quite a commotion?”

“Of course. But I heard she got married around winter, and apparently went down to her husband’s territory?”

“I bet she’s rushing here on a horse without even a saddle, let alone a carriage, upon hearing the news.”

Laughter erupts at the end of the whispers.

They covered their mouths with the tips of their fans to avoid looking frivolous, but their swaying gestures weren’t so dignified.

The characteristic frivolity of those who enjoy mocking or gossiping about others was evident.

“I’d like to hear what you’re all talking about so amusingly.”

The laughing women turned their heads in surprise, and their faces immediately brightened as if flowers had bloomed.

As Arkan said, Pelehar, having washed up and changed clothes, no longer bore any trace of the disheveled and scruffy appearance he had when he first returned.

In fact, he was as tall as Arkan, but with a much more rugged and masculine appearance.

Although his late father didn’t look like that, there was much talk that he must have taken after his mother, and if so, she must have been a great beauty.

That’s how handsome Pelehar was, with distinct features.

His skin was tanned from his constant travels, but he exuded an undeniable nobility.

The gossiping ladies were all engaged or married, but they had no reason not to smile at a handsome man.

“Your Highness Pelehar, we are boundlessly happy to see you return safely.”

“We’ve been so bored without Your Highness here to tell us interesting stories.”

“I heard His Majesty was quite surprised by your sudden return?”

The women each added a word, subtly trying to stand closer to him, pushing each other’s shoulders imperceptibly.

Pelehar saw right through their behavior but smiled charmingly as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

“It’s worth coming back to be welcomed so warmly everywhere I go. His Majesty was indeed surprised, but isn’t it one of his charms to see such an expression occasionally?”

The women burst into giggles as if they had heard an amusing joke.

As they swayed, their different perfumes wafted to Pelehar’s nose.

The youngest among them, with golden curls beautifully braided down, said:

“Of course. Your Highness is right. Isn’t King Arkan himself the pride of Bethor?”

“Indeed. I’ve traveled all over the inland countries, but there’s no king as handsome and young as our king.”

“It’s not just his looks. His kind and gentle nature, his love for contemplation and reading, and how calmly he speaks!”

Another woman with brown hair braided up and adorned with small ornaments said.

Her attitude was very serious, but Pelehar, who knew Arkan’s other side, his essential nature better, had to bite back a laugh.

‘He’s managing quite diligently. As expected of uncle’s son.’

The nobles of Bethor, no, not just them, but all the citizens felt similarly about Arkan.

The perfect king, gentle and generous, overflowing with intellect, always calm and responding rationally to any situation.

Whether it was because he ascended to the throne at a young age or because of his handsome face, the people of Bethor literally ‘cherished’ Arkan.

Like a treasure in their hands, they worried about dropping and cracking him or him flying away if blown upon, serving and loving him.

But the Arkan that Pelehar knew was an ordinary cousin who could be childish at times, unnecessarily stubborn, sarcastic when annoyed, and occasionally sniffling while reading trivial novels.

Of course, both sides were aspects of Arkan.

Another woman who had been quiet all along suddenly spoke up as if complaining, pursing her lips:

“That aside, I’m very concerned about how His Majesty is doing these days. My husband is a low-ranking official in the Ministry of Industry, but he attends official meetings and sees His Majesty. He says His Majesty looks quite tired and sometimes seems to be in a bad mood.”

Pelehar responded as if it wasn’t a big deal:

“His Majesty is human too, he’s bound to have bad days. If he looks tired, it’s probably because he has a lot of work. That’s something His Majesty brought upon himself, so you shouldn’t worry too much. He’s the type who feels at ease only when he does things himself, even tasks he could delegate.”

“We know that! How could we not know His Majesty has such a meticulous personality? But… we think, Your Highness. We think His Majesty seems to be bearing too heavy a burden these days.”

As the woman continued, the other ladies nodded in unison as if agreeing.

Pelehar was quite perceptive, though not as much as Arkan.

The kingdom was peaceful, so it couldn’t be about state affairs, and if there had been any recent change in Arkan’s personal life, it was only that one thing – his marriage.

“A burden? What’s happened to His Majesty?”

But Pelehar feigned ignorance once again.

Then, the women, each looking sulky and displeased, started talking over each other.

“It’s because of that princess from abroad, Your Highness.”

“A northern fighter who knows neither etiquette nor propriety becoming the queen of Bethor, even though His Majesty chose it for the sake of the entire alliance, it’s truly pitiful.”

“I heard that whenever His Majesty visits, she screams and chases him away. How can that be? Forget about her duties as a queen, do northerners not even have wifely duties?”

They each grumbled as they pleased.

Although there were ears listening, they must have thought that Pelehar would naturally only take Arkan’s side, as the level of their chatter rose to increasingly precarious levels.

The blonde woman swayed as she spoke:

“It’s the truth. It’s shameful that we have to bow our heads and call her ‘Her Majesty’. I heard she’s been on battlefields since she was barely a teenager, how can a woman who’s only been involved in harming people before she even came of age become the dignified queen of Bethor? The standards have fallen so low.”

The other women, perhaps feeling it was a bit too harsh, quietly glanced at Pelehar and just smiled, but the woman whose husband was an official in the Ministry of Industry chimed in.

“The Countess is right, Your Highness Pelehar. The Duchess Fiddlers, oh my. Your Highness probably hasn’t heard the news yet. The Duchess Fiddlers…”

Pelehar cut off her words midway.

“I’ve heard the rumors too. Isn’t it the story about her being expelled after incurring His Majesty’s wrath for lying to Her Majesty the Queen?”

The face of the woman who had brought it up turned red.

In truth, she was fed up with the Duchess wandering around the palace as if it were her own home, meddling in everything, nagging about proper behavior whenever they crossed paths, and eventually bragging about her youngest daughter.

When the Duchess disappeared, they even held a gathering to drink celebratory wine – of course, they didn’t disclose the purpose of the party externally – but she could defend any chance to criticize Erdene.

Not just defend, she could even pretend to be indignant as if her own mother had been unjustly expelled.

She was about to do so this time as well, but her words were cut off, leaving her deflated.

Pelehar carefully examined their faces and spoke with a faint smile.

Although it wasn’t explicitly evident due to his handsome features and open demeanor, it was clearly a look of reproach and mockery towards their gossip.

“As for the Duchess Fiddlers’ matter, it’s a situation she brought upon herself, so there’s no need for chatter. Don’t you agree? Although she was a princess of Hiperium, she’s different from the princesses of the inland. She’s an heir raised to succeed the imperial throne and crown, so her temperament can’t be the same as ordinary people. War is something the empire does when they’re bored after eating. However, the princess’s martial prowess was outstanding, and the previous emperor deeply cherished and loved his daughter. While it may not be right for the empire to always launch preemptive attacks, just as you all are so passionate about Bethor and His Majesty the King, wasn’t Her Majesty the Queen also bound to devote herself to her country when she was a daughter of the empire? One should be able to think of others by putting oneself in their position.”

The part about ‘being passionate about Bethor and His Majesty the King’ was sarcastic no matter how you looked at it.

The women, their faces reddening even more, quickly glanced at each other and left Pelehar’s presence.

Although he usually entertained those around him with witty stories and jokes, today it didn’t seem like such conversation would be possible.

Pelehar, watching the women’s retreating figures as they scurried away, turned his head towards the direction of the Queen’s palace and muttered to himself:

“Well then, shall I go pay my respects to the troublesome Her Majesty the Queen?”