Battlefield on the tablecloth (3)

‘Promise’s function was already originally enormous, but it’s growing as the narrative involvement level increases.’

Kleio was happy, though he oddly felt it was unfair. Perhaps it was because he had suffered from English throughout his life as Kim Jungjin, like most Koreans in college.

‘I thought my eyes would fall out every time I had to read it. Unbelievable…’

Kleio gently stroked the ring he held, a habit from before his name became Kleio, and he acquired this ring named Promise. After putting down her empty glass of champagne, Cel leaned over to Kleio.

“[Why did you choose a language that is difficult to learn when you aren’t motivated to take Carolinger as your optional subject for next year? You already knew how to speak it.]”

Cel smiled playfully, and she spoke Carolingian. Her voice sounded lower and huskier than when she spoke Albion.

‘How do I speak it? Change mode?’

Promise’s message flashed in front of Kleio again.

[Bound Item: Clio’s Promise]

[―2nd level function Understanding Multilingual analysis function is activated.]

‘Can I do it? I don’t know.’

“[Should I say that I know how to speak it…?]”

Surprisingly, his language had really changed.

“[If you can hear and speak it, you know how to do it!]”

Albion’s own language was unfamiliar to Jungjin, but he had been using it as comfortably as his own mother tongue, using the power of Promise. So, there was no need to disbelieve that he could switch to another language so comfortably. From Kleio’s point of view, it felt like the difference between dialects in Korean.

“[Because I haven’t spoken to someone who speaks Carolingian since I learned it.]”

Of course, the explanation wasn’t a lie since today was the first time he had heard it properly, but Cel understood that Kleio had learned it from an Albion tutor.

“[You must’ve had a great teacher. Well, your father would’ve been capable of setting that up.]”

“[Although I wasn’t a very good student.]”

“[What are you talking about? I often was scolded by my mother for messing up the distinction between masculine and feminine nouns. Sir Kleio, however, is a genius wizard. I thought you were only good at magic, but there was such a twist!]”

“[Yes, make fun. I don’t want to say it because it might’ve turned out like this.]”

“[Waiting around.]”

The twins sipping non-alcoholic punch looked at Isiel in puzzlement. True to her image as an honor student, Isiel seemed to be good at languages too.

“Isiel, Isiel. What are Kleio and Cel talking about?”

“Celeste says he speaks Carolingian well, but he was hiding his ability.”

“Isiel…”

“Did I get it wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

He wanted to protest that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t reveal the ability of Promise. It was then the voice of the junior official posted by the entrance rang out inside the hall.

“Queen Juleika, and Prince Aslan, have arrived.”

The guests stopped talking and stood up at once to greet the new arrival. The sound of silk rubbing the floor and the faint dragging of chairs on the carpet could be heard.

‘That’s Aslan’s mother, Juleika.’

Standing at an angle behind the niche, Kleio was able to look at Juleika to his heart’s content. Juleika Charlotte Castillen, Queen of Albion. She was the cousin of the present emperor of the Brunnen Monarch, and the official spouse of King Philippe, who had inherited the title of Duke of Nineveh, owner of the nine islands, and Queen of Ogwen Aqueduct. All of those titles were official ones granted to the Queen of Albion from the time of Leonid the First. Juleika had skin as white as snow and hair as dark as ebony. Simple jewelry with black pearls and diamonds decorated her, and the queen’s crown further enhanced her atmosphere. She didn’t look like a queen with a 25-year-old son, but a beautiful woman with an innocent face that couldn’t harm a fly.

‘I heard that your personality was revealed on your face when you’re over forty, but that was a lie.’

The queen’s disposition was cold-blooded, as it had been revealed in the manuscript based on what she had done and would do.

‘Aslan was just a teenager six years ago when they conspired to murder Arthur’s mother… phew.’

Juleika, who sent a chill down Kleio’s spine, was escorted by Aslan to their seats at the royal table. Aslan sat to her right as the official announced Melchior with a louder voice than before.

“Prince Melchior is entering!”

Kleio reflexively turned on Separation. 90% of the reason he decided not to drink today was because of this prince. He hid further behind the pillar, knowing he couldn’t be seen anyway. Time seemed to flow slowly around only the prince as everyone’s admiration-filled eyes turned to him. Even Juleika, who hated the eldest son, showed faint warmth on her pale cheeks. Sure enough, as Kleio was hidden behind the pillar watching the crown prince, the expected message appeared.

[Unique skill: The charm of □□□]

The golden letters rose about the crown prince’s head brilliantly as he crossed the hall and took the top seat of the table for granted. It could be seen that Juleika’s hostility couldn’t be alleviated even as his charm began to encroach.

‘In the absence of the king, it seems the head is decided by order of position.’

Then, that left one. In all stories, the protagonist was the last to arrive. As he thought that, the official announced the last prince’s arrival with a voice that was quieter than before.

“The third prince, Arthur, has arrived.”

‘He sounds worse than when I was announced before.’

As he arrived after the first and second’s splendid appearances, Arthur couldn’t attract the guests’ attention. Those who were seated once more stared at the royal family’s seats in excitement. Kleio looked carefully at the existence that stood at the center of this world; Arthur looked quite dignified on the outside. As soon as the boy had entered alone, he looked around for his friends first. In this hall filled with nobles and powerful people, no one strived to stand before him or raise him up, so it was only natural.

“Wow, you’ve come with Behemoth!”

When Arthur found his friends, he laughed childishly and mouthed silent words at them.

“I’ll head over later!”

The party, each of which were high-level ether users, could easily understand what Arthur was trying to say. Cel clicked her tongue.

“Tsk, what if they decorate his exterior? He’s the same as usual.”

“He’s in front of the nobles, so it would be awkward if he behaved differently than usual.”

“Arthur’s the only one who’s consistent. There’s no one who wants to buy his favor with false goodwill.”

“I always think about it, but how the hell does Arthur look in your eyes?! It’s like a gold-leafed statue of a prince. Ahaha.”

A gilded prince statue… Cel’s expression fit strangely well. But not everyone in the hall turned away from Arthur. A very small number of people who would have an enormous influence on the future weren’t looking at him.

‘Chairman Benjamin Beaton and Katarina Tanpet de Neju. Those two definitely have a good feeling. They’re more conscious of Arthur, not the other princes. Rosa Pehite is only looking out for her student, but they see something else.’

Memory went back and forth, bringing various sentences to Kleio’s mind.

“The place where the three princes look like a moon, star, and sun.”

Such a sentence ran through his mind.

‘It’s a scene with all three princes in the manuscript. Originally, it was the New Year’s party after Arthur’s graduation. But it was too articulate to mean anything friendly.’

The moon and star represented Melchior and Aslan, where Arthur was the sun. It was an event of the gods, as their blessings and curses shook humanity’s fate.

As the seats calmed down, Melchior finished a short speech. Then, servers began to carry in soup, filling the hall with a fragrant and warm aroma. The secretary of the consul, who emptied his bowel at an incredibly fast pace, began to speak once more.

“[Is the eclipse going to happen again soon? I’ve heard you’ve seen the eclipse of Albion’s coronation before.]”

“[I saw it twice. Thirty-two years ago, and then five years after that. The first was when I lived in Lundane with my father, so it happened by chance.]”

“[You will probably see the third one as well.]”

“[Stop saying pointless things and eat. You can only enjoy such a sophisticated and wonderful dinner in Albion.]”

“[Since the fall of Carolinger’s royal family, a bunch of their chefs has crossed the border.]”

Kleio felt sympathetic to the young man whose chubby cheeks were stained with pink.

‘The names, customs, and climate resemble Britain, but the fact that their food culture wasn’t referenced was a good choice on the author’s part.’

.

.

.

“The establishment of the Dubris tiplaum mine and processing complex hasn’t only shaken the industry but has changed the dynamics of the royal family.”

“Because of the surprise announcement, it took a while to determine the scale, but if that’s enough, isn’t it too big for the royal family alone?”

“Well, the crown prince won’t let go of his right to collect taxes on the grounds. Isn’t that the greatest authority left to the king?”

“If they knew that it was such a land, the greedy members of the nobility would’ve revised that law at any cost.”

“I think it would be better for the royal family to hand the authority over Dubris to them.”

“Hoh.”

Kleio enthusiastically gathered the conversations happening around him. At a glance, it seemed to be little more than gossip, but there was a lot of information to be had.

‘First, the range of Melchior’s change isn’t wider than I expected, and the effect doesn’t last long.’

Those who eagerly gazed at the crown prince like he held onto their souls were now distracted as if they had woken up from a distant dream. Now that the gossip had started, it was clear to see the people’s opposition to the royal family’s monopoly over tiplaum. Rather, members of the commonwealth council and the lower nobility seemed to be more favorable to Melchior.

‘Melchior… he’s a clever one. He’s also fair and doesn’t seek his own personal interests. He’s gentle and a natural-born leader — a modern politician-type, in other words. However, there are weaknesses in his origin to them.’

It was nine years ago that King Philippe fell ill, but it was seven years ago that Melchior Riognan was announced as the crown prince. The king, his health deteriorated to the point he couldn’t eat with his own hands, suddenly got up one day and appointed his first-born as the crown prince. The entire incident was treated as mysterious. According to custom, the vice-bishop of Lundane and the three dukes, who were witnesses, were said to have expressed surprise and doubt at the king’s declaration. For Kleio, who knew Melchior’s skill, it wasn’t mysterious at all.

‘Maybe he used that timing and his achievements to carry out a rebellion when he was twenty. It seems no one knows of his skill, so their suspicions that he manipulated King Philippe can’t hold water.’