Steadfastness and uprightness were the very creed of the War Minister’s family, and its members never hesitated to fight desperately at the rearguard to protect their comrades, which earned them the soldiers’ respect and gave them formidable influence.
"The rumors are already everywhere. They say you might become the fourteenth prince."
"Really? Must be nice, having a prince for a brother-in-law."
"Father will be even happier than me. His nose is already so high in the air it won’t come down."
Truth be told, everyone here was also saying in unison that I’d become the fourteenth prince, but there was wariness that the War Minister’s family would grow stronger than necessary. My elevation would mean the breadth of military force they could mobilize had expanded.
And that could ultimately lead to the strengthening of royal authority.
Hmm, since I maintain friendly relations with the royal family, that’s a fair point.
"I heard Hilda’s pregnant? I nearly jumped out of my skin when I read the letter."
"That’s why my heart aches. Her so-called husband has been buried in campaigns abroad."
"Huh? Why would that make your heart ache? That’s just what nobles do, isn’t it?"
Michael didn’t seem to sympathize in the least. I suppose that’s the typical reaction of men in this era. Even my subordinates think I’m far too peculiar. But an aching heart is an aching heart.
"Oh, my darling Marz! How long has it been?!"
"It’s good to see you after so long, but how long are you going to keep calling me Marz?"
"Once a Marz, always a Marz! Hahaha!"
Apparently this was Margareta’s first time seeing Michael since her marriage.
When a woman marries into a distant territory, she can end up all but separated from her family for life. Fortunately, Hilda had married close by and could see her family often. Anyway, so her nickname was Marz, huh.
Margareta held a small banquet to celebrate the family’s reunion. It was a modest affair, family only, of course, and Michael, in high spirits, knocked back drink after drink with Ulrich.
"To Hilda and my brother-in-law’s heir!"
The grand duke’s army had won the war, I had achieved tremendous military feats, and Hilda was pregnant. Could things get any better for the siblings? Michael thumped his chest and declared,
"I’ll come up with a splendid name for the child!"
"The marquis named the child before he passed."
"...Ah, did he? I see."
Well, the mood turned awkward in an instant.
Is this what they call killing the vibe?
Michael looked terribly embarrassed. The siblings, who had been close to the marquis, grew somber. But we couldn’t stay steeped in sorrow forever. Best to just keep drinking.
Come to think of it, Baron Sinclair hadn’t even shown his face.
Perhaps because he knew Margareta’s relationship with her husband was at rock bottom, Michael neither looked for the baron nor mentioned him. Has there ever been a more uncomfortable relationship?
"Father won’t be back for a while. Sorting out the honors for a war this big, even a week wouldn’t be enough, right? Well, one thing’s certain: the top honoree is our brother-in-law here!"
"Hmm, no argument there, but quite a few nobles might push back."
"If the princes approve, we can just ignore that kind of pushback."
It seemed my being the top honoree was a foregone conclusion. Margareta, who had been quietly listening to the two brothers, looked a little disgruntled. After all, Margareta had also rendered distinguished service in the fall of Radensdorf.
"They wouldn’t leave someone off the list of honorees just because she’s a lady, would they?"
"That depends on His Highness’s intentions. It’s not something we can decide, is it?"
"If only the pushback from those pathetic nobles who envy a lady could be smoothed over as easily."
Margareta let out a sigh. She was merely a baron’s wife, so even if she rendered great service, it would be hard to gain recognition from the other nobles. In noble society, a lady was nothing more than an ornament.
"What exactly are your achievements, Brother-in-law? I want to know the specifics."
"Looks like our Marz has taken quite an interest in my brother-in-law."
Margareta looked at me as if she were sizing up a rival. Was she planning to compete with me over merit? To be fair, Margareta had scored one major achievement, but comparing it to mine was nonsense.
My list of achievements defies all common sense, you see.
For a noble to earn even a single military honor takes not only skill but luck. My problem was that I had so many, I couldn’t even remember the minor ones.
Hence the nobles grumbling that I was hogging all the glory.
I gave a brief account of my journey, from the Battle of Feuzen all the way to Radensdorf. Margareta, so combative at first, now looked thoroughly overwhelmed.
"I don’t think even the knights of legend could match you, Brother-in-law."
"Marz, that’s the level of merit it takes to become a prince."
Michael was surely just as astonished, but he’d grown accustomed to the kind of person I am, so he recovered from the shock quickly. Ulrich drank his wine in silence, lost in deep thought.
Margareta said to me, her face drained of energy,
"I envy you so much, Brother-in-law."
As if she truly meant it, she sipped her wine and sank into silence. Her envy was probably because I’m a man. The medieval era was a cruelly discriminatory age, after all.
For a moment, the atmosphere turned awkward.
Just then, Viola refilled my empty glass. Michael’s eyes tracked Viola closely as she smiled sweetly and moved on. It was the look of a sly fox eyeing a rabbit. Hold on, this little punk?
"Margareta, could you assign that handmaid to me?"
"Sorry, but that girl is my brother-in-law’s handmaid. Lay a finger on her and you’re a dead man."
"What? When did he get such a cute little..."
The admiring look in Michael’s eyes grated on my nerves.
He seemed to be laboring under a serious misunderstanding, so I made it absolutely clear that she was a handmaid I’d hired at the request of an ailing acquaintance. Just try saying something ridiculous to Hilda. Brother-in-law or not, you’re done for.
"Ahem, if I press any further, I feel like my brother-in-law might actually kill me."
"He’s never laid a hand on that girl. Hilda has an excellent husband."
Hmm, so Margareta had been quietly keeping watch, it seemed. Viola was the handmaid Louis had entrusted to me, and that connection was strictly confidential. Ulrich, however, was looking at me meaningfully.
His mindset still read: observation.
Michael was an open book, but Ulrich was a man whose thoughts were truly impossible to read.
The next day, I was summoned by the grand duke.
I was making my way toward the grand duke’s office when someone suddenly caught me in a headlock. The strength was so tremendous that I was dragged along helplessly. Hm? These rock-hard muscles and this familiar scent... it’s my father-in-law!
"Gwahaha! Son-in-law! You’ve become an absolute monster since I last saw you!"
"Ow, ow, Father! You’re going to crack your son-in-law’s skull!"
"You’ve racked up so many military feats, what’s a cracked skull or two! And you even got my precious youngest daughter pregnant! Splendid work, son-in-law! Gwahaha!"
My father-in-law was as rough and brimming with energy as ever. The moment I was finally released, he swept me into a crushing bear hug, leaving me completely dazed. Argh, my face is being buried in these massive pecs and biceps!
"I’m relieved to see you’re doing so well."
"Thanks to you, son-in-law, I’ve been walking around lately with my head held high."
The standing of the War Minister’s family had risen to heights that couldn’t even be compared to before. You could tell just from how the princes, who used to pick fights with the War Minister at every turn, had noticeably softened their attitude.
"Whoops, I’ve held on to my son-in-law too long. His Highness is waiting."
"What do you suppose he summoned me for?"
"Some headache of a situation has come up. Damn that man."
My father-in-law’s joy turned to displeasure.
His mood swings are tornado-grade.
I took my leave of my father-in-law and entered the grand duke’s office. The grand duke stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out the window. Perhaps aware of my approach, he spoke.
"How long has it been since you entered politics?"
"About half a year, I believe."
It felt like several years, but astonishingly, only half a year had passed. Having climbed to this position in a mere six months, I could understand why the nobles sneered at me as the duchy’s greatest social climber.
But rank isn’t given for free. I had piled up enough accomplishments to smother the nobles’ objections. Piled them so high, in fact, that they were giving the grand duke and the rest of the leadership a massive headache.
"Becoming a lord in a mere half year was astonishing enough, and yet you went on to earn merits beyond even that."
"It’s all thanks to Your Highness guiding someone as lacking as myself."
"Your eloquence is remarkable for such a young noble, and you’re astoundingly composed. I would like to raise you even higher, but objections have been raised, saying that bestowing a noble title on someone who has been active in politics for less than a year not only violates fairness but wounds the very pride of the nobility."
I’d expected as much, but which bastard had objected?
No need to guess. It would be the landless court nobles. Their craving for territory is beyond imagination, and they absolutely cannot stand to see anyone else succeed. And I was the eternal thorn in their side.
Since I had the War Minister’s family and the Altringens behind me, they’d limited themselves to keeping me in check, but now it seemed they felt threatened enough to start obstructing me in earnest. Humanity’s petty envy never ends.
My late grandfather didn’t warn me to watch my step for nothing.
"Aren’t you curious who your opponents are?"
"The court noble faction, I presume. Isn’t it obvious?"
"Hmm, how dull. I was hoping for a more entertaining reaction."
Maybe it was because the civil war had ended, but the grand duke’s true nature seemed to be surfacing. This man loves pitting nobles against one another. No wonder his ministers were always at each other’s throats.
"The interesting part is that the western princes are backing you."
"Wouldn’t having even one more ally to stand against Burgundy be to their advantage?"
Elsewhere, the princes keep one another in check, but the west can’t spare the energy for that because of Burgundy. Having me, reborn as a war hero, settle in the west and fight alongside them was far more profitable for the western princes.
"Marquis Offenburg has voiced his opposition."
So the damned bastard my father-in-law mentioned was the marquis, it seemed.
I see. So he was wary of the growing power of the War Minister’s family—and of me.