Episode 67

Marib pulled the bowstring back as far as it would go, pressing the bow tightly against her body. She could feel the wind blowing, but she didn’t pay it much mind as she released the arrow. After all, she wasn’t hunting animals.

Whoosh!

The arrow flew in a curved arc, missing its mark and landing somewhere useless. The startled deer bolted away into the distance, and the ministers watching nearby let out rueful chuckles.

“Oh dear, what a shame.”

“Indeed. And of all days, the wind picks up.”

“Well then, it looks like Lord Derenchio is still in first place.”

“Your Highness, may I try?”

It was an unofficial event held once a month. The imperial family, key ministers, and a handful of nobles gathered under the guise of socializing, but in reality, it was a tedious yet crucial extension of political maneuvering.

“By the way, where is Gale today? I don’t see him.”

Marib, who was about to pick up her bow, froze. Everyone in the palace—even the lowliest slaves—knew that her relationship with Gale was strained. Yet someone mentioned his name so casually.

A few ministers subtly glanced at the First Prince, but Marib responded calmly.

“Indeed. I wonder what could be keeping him so busy.”

After her appointment as lord was overturned and she was sent to the borderlands of Mollin, one thing puzzled her: Gale had been conspicuously absent whenever she was around. There were no particular rumors, and judging by her father’s hints, Gale still visited often. It was clear that Gale was deliberately avoiding her.

Unaware of Marib’s growing frown, a minister muttered as he drew his bowstring.

“Your Highness, it’s been quite some time since you’ve appeared, what with your health declining. It’s truly unfortunate.”

“…Unfortunate, is it?”

“Well, yes. When you and the others were young, these gatherings were lively and enjoyable. Though sometimes the noise would scare off the game…”

Whoosh!

Just as he was about to release his arrow, Marib suddenly fired one wildly from the side. Another deer bolted away in fright.

“Like now?”

“Y-Your Highness?”

“I’m disappointed too. It seems the minister isn’t satisfied with me. Perhaps my hunting skills have really gone downhill.”

“Oh no, Your Highness, that’s not true at all!”

The minister broke out in a sweat, desperately trying to deny it with frantic gestures, but Marib just smiled and turned her back.

“Carry on without me. I need a break.”

“Ah, yes, of course, Your Highness.”

Marib removed her gloves and left, while the ministers gently scolded the one who had missed and urged everyone to pick up their bows again.

Lying down under the tent, Marib rubbed her forehead, clearly exhausted.

“Are you alright?”

She hadn’t slept for days due to piled-up work. Coming out to shoot arrows in that state was bound to be too much. Her aide poured her some cool water and watched over her.

“A dispatch has arrived from the border.”

“From Romandro?”

“Most likely a gift for you, Lord Marib.”

Marib looked up at her aide in confusion. After confirming no one was nearby, the aide lowered his voice.

“Romandro reports they’ve discovered a crop that could solve the famine. Ian is leading the effort to distribute it in Bratz, and they expect to see results by this winter. Tax yields at the peasant level should improve as well.”

“This winter?”

The leaves were just starting to yellow. What kind of crop could show results by winter? The growing period would have to be less than two months for that to make sense.

“It’s called Gula.”

“Gula? The poisonous weed I know?”

Marib asked incredulously. Romandro must have lost his mind after moving to the frontier. It was a filthy plant, toxic and invasive.

And yet, they claimed it could end the famine?

A wave of fatigue washed over her.

“This is maddening.”

“I thought the same at first, but the details are unusual. Gula’s seeds are edible. Apparently, it tastes better than expected and is quite filling. They’ve even made significant progress in culinary research.”

Marib reluctantly nodded. The aide quickly handed her the report.

“Cultivation method? Ha! How different can it be from growing weeds?”

“The growing period is very short—just one month—and each seed produces more than ten new seeds. It’s not picky about soil or water quality either.”

Marib read through Romandro’s report carefully.

If everything was true, solving the famine might not be impossible. Among existing famine-relief crops, this one had the best conditions by far.

Still, just thinking about Gula made her stomach turn. How could anyone eat that?

“What else? Is that all? Not much of a gift.”

“Oh, and…”

The aide bowed deeply, lowering his voice further.

“There’s also a letter recommending Ian as the next lord…”

Though he was of a criminal lineage, if Ian was truly a magic user, that wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, it might be better to keep him close and prevent him from running off. It seemed Romandro and the locals trusted him, and with a recommendation letter in hand, there was no issue.

Marib’s real problem was…

“A ring from Lord Mollin was enclosed.”

“What?”

Her voice was louder than expected, drawing a glance from a minister standing nearby. Marib hastily drew the tent curtain and asked again.

“A ring from Mollin?”

“Yes. According to Romandro, Mollin tried to kill Ian. His subordinate, Petreo, led mercenaries in an attack, but they failed. All are currently detained.”

Marib flipped to the back of the report as the aide explained. On the table lay a fine ring, and inside was an inscription proving it belonged to the Mollin family.

“They leave the decision to Your Highness.”

“Hmph.”

Marib felt her mind clearing. She’d suspected this from the moment they brought in the Cheonryeo tribe. Their actions were clever.

“They realized that being connected to Mollin would be a liability in getting a lordship recommendation.”

And they showed it through their actions. Since Ian had no ties to Mollin—or more precisely, to Gale’s side—they could safely ask to be made lord. What clearer plea could there be?

Marib’s fingers drummed rapidly on the table as she mulled it over.

“Your Highness?”

“Does Ian have any family left?”

“None that I know of.”

His birth mother was missing before the battle even began.

“Write a letter. If he’s a magic user, it should be easy for him to come to the capital. I want to know what he’s planning.”

It was crucial that Bratz didn’t fall into Gale’s hands, but judging by Ian’s actions, there might be more to gain.

“This works out well. He’ll be useful in the Magic Department.”

There were few magic users, and most were loyal to Gale, so their unity was strong.

Marib felt like she had received a gift, just as the aide said. She stood up with a smile and picked up her bow again. Though the emperor’s approval was essential for her lordship, the ministers’ persistent urging made it feel inevitable.

“Have you caught anything yet?”

“Ah, Your Highness, the deer are unusually long-lived today.”

Just as Marib smiled and raised her bow—

Whoosh!

An arrow with a long black tail zipped past her side. It was so fast that only the trailing black cloth remained as an afterimage. While the startled ministers froze, Marib’s face hardened as she turned around.

“Gale.”

Black hair, eyes like the sky itself—blue and sharp, with a sly, arrogant gaze as always.

Gale raised his bow from horseback.

“Sorry, brother. I shot in a hurry.”

“Your skills have really gone downhill.”

“Still, it hit its mark.”

Marib followed Gale’s gaze and saw a deer collapsed with an arrow through its neck. The black cloth fluttered in the wind.

Gale approached the ministers, nodding naturally in greeting.

“Sorry I’m late. I’ve been busy.”

“Not at all, Your Highness. It’s been a while.”

“How have you been?”

Gale nodded politely to the ministers. If not for the pale eyes inherited from the emperor, no one would believe they shared blood.

“Brother, I hope you’re not upset that I caught one first?”

Gale raised his eyebrows with a mischievous grin. Whenever the two were together, it was always a playful rivalry, so the ministers quietly backed away, hesitant.

“Well then, shall we have a drink?”

“Sounds good. It’s hot today.”

“Your Highness, please take a rest.”

“Hey! Fill the quivers here.”

Ignoring the noisy old men behind him, Marib smiled softly. Given Gale’s appearance, he must have a purpose. Normally, it would be hard to guess, but she had just read the letter from Bratz.

“Thank you for coming despite your busy schedule, brother.”

“Do you think I’m as busy as you? With state affairs and all, it’s hectic, but I still make time for these trivial hunting gatherings…”

As the legitimate heir and official successor, Marib had the most work in the palace, especially since the emperor had fallen ill.

Gale glanced at a minister laughing foolishly behind them and continued speaking.

“Especially since you’re so concerned about the borderlands. If you collapsed from overwork tomorrow, no one would bat an eye.”

“But everyone would be puzzled by the fact that you’ve been so focused on that area lately.”

“Are you still receiving reports from the advisors?”

“Is there any reason I need to know?”

Gale slowly studied Marib’s face.

At some point, the reports from Mollin had abruptly stopped. But judging by the signs, Romandro’s reports were still coming in. That meant something must have happened in the Bratz territory.

Marib smiled faintly, issuing a warning to Gale.

“I don’t know what game’s being played here, but—”

Gale scoffed inwardly. He’d suspected something ever since Marib suddenly showed up at the council meeting to cause trouble. Marib, too, was clearly onto something.

“It would be best to lose interest in the Bratz territory. A recommendation for the next lord has come through. I have no objections, so I intend to push it forward quickly.”

Gale’s expression twisted sharply in frustration. Meanwhile, Marib smiled brightly, drawing his bowstring back with force. The arrow flew true, slicing through the air and embedding itself cleanly in the neck of a lifeless beast.