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The Sword, the Rose, and the Lion (6)
The prince who had been called the Young Lion of the North, and the second prince who had become revered as a saint in recent years: The first thing that caught Hestia’s eyes were these two brothers.
Their faces looked too slender to be called manly, but it didn’t look uninspiring to Hestia. Such delicate features and soft expressions were never seen upon Teuton’s men, who revered manliness.
Hestia heard that the atmosphere in the Leonberg Kingdom was not different from that in Teuton, but these men looked different than she had expected, very different indeed.
The second prince was dignified in even the slightest details of his actions and speech, and he did not forget to show consideration to the other person in conversation. There were no faults to blame him off, either as a human being, a royal, or a man. If Hestia was forced to catch one fault, though-
“My brother 
”
“If it wasn’t for my brother 
”
“At that time, my brother 
”
All Prince Maximilian did was open his mouth to talk about his brother. His brother, his brother, his brother
 no matter how much his brother deserved the praise, the second prince looked like a duckling waddling after a mother duck. Still, the impression Maximilian had on Hestia was more than she had expected, excepting his excessive admiration and praise for his brother.
The Crown Prince was less impressive than Hestia’s expectations, however. He did not show the same courtesy as his brother, not in so much as a single glance. No, this prince stared at Hestia with disrespect. It was a type of gaze she had never encountered, however.
The way men usually gazed at Hestia fell into two categories: Those who watched her with feelings of admiration, regarding her as a flower out of their reach, and then there were those with high status and skills who looked at Hestia with greed, with the aspiration to defeat her at once.
The prince’s gaze didn’t belong to either class. His eyes were the dark blue of the northern sea, and they darkened countless times more during the dinner. The emotions contained within them were ones of curious interest, nothing more and nothing less. He seemed to view Hestia as an interesting sight, his eyes holding a withdrawn, unpleasant emotion.
Hestia swore countless times inside her mind at the rudeness of the prince. An unknown feeling of resentment arose within Hestia, and she realized it was due to the Crown Prince’s attitude, who seemed to be unconcerned about her presence.
Hestia laughed deeply, then. She had no intention of being vulgar, but she also had no intention of allowing the man to watch her as if he was viewing a rare species of animal. Hestia thought it would be enough to make eye contact with Prince Adrian and smile slightly. Quite a few men had failed to escape from her gaze alone.
However, that tactic didn’t work either. Hestia’s self-esteem was injured to some extent, but she tried to shrug it off and continued to lock eyes with the Crown Prince.
The more she did that, the colder were the depths that the prince’s eyes sank into. When even that faint interest in his eyes cooled down into nothingness, Hestia felt a mysterious sense of loss.
That probably was why she went to the Leonberger royal family’s dojo, even if she wasn’t interested in the battles between knights. When she next snapped awake, she had become the referee. And this is what she witnessed there: How fierce the knights of Leonberg had become after their war with the Empire. If one of their arms were severed, they acted as if even that wasn’t enough to end the duel. It was absurd.
What do they gain by risking their lives in the contest? Compared to them, the Rosethorn Knights were like pacifists. Leonberg’s knights were truly like fierce beasts, and they weren’t just fierce. Even though Hestia had no skill in swordsmanship, she saw that the Rosethorn knights’ swords could not reach Leonberg’s knights. And the biggest difference between the sides was the quad-chain knights.
There were five high profile quad-chain knights among the Rosethorns, Hestia’s uncle excluded. On the other hand, only three Masters of Leonberg had been sent to the contest.
“They still have knights that absorb mana in the heart.”
“I heard rumors, but it must be true.”
“It seems that there are no true warriors in Leonberg.”
Through the overheard conversations of the Rosethorn Knights, Hestia learned that Leonberg had two Masters who used mana hearts, which was treated as a waste of talent.
“If we break their mercenaries and the chopsticks they use as swords, will we even look good? This will all stop by then.”
“A single strike would be enough.”
The Rosethorn Knights already proclaimed their victory, saying that they were at least warriors who had honed decent skills.
And then

‘Bwak!’
‘Klank!’
They were smashed into every shade of defeat by the Masters of Leonberg, who they had looked down upon, two of whom were even women, not men. Martial prowess was exclusively possessed by men; it was impossible for a woman to wield a sword – at least, this was believed in Teuton.
However, it seemed that Leonberg did not share such beliefs.
“Next!” the black-haired Master shouted as she wiped clean her bloody longsword. It looked so dazzling, so much so that Hestia Neumann Tudor couldn’t stop fantasizing. The image of this woman, her opponent, kneeling while she stood confidently over him – this was how Hestia wanted to be. She cheered for the female knight, making sure no one realized it.
But unfortunately, the knight lost. The black-haired girl was defeated by one of Teuton’s quad-chain knights after four victories. And the next female Master of Leonberg was defeated by Hestia’s uncle, Duke Seymour, who fought fiercer than any other man. His ruthless hand had not been true to his usual, just self. That was a warning to everyone: To the knights of Leonberg who were full of energy, and to Teuton’s quad-chain knights who were defeated by women, who are considered insignificant, and to Duncan’s niece and her unattainable aspirations.
The small feeling of excitement Hestia had felt quickly subsided. She silently expressed her condolences for the terrible future that was to come to the bloody dojo. But the disastrous result she had expected did not happen.
“Tcha.”
The Crown Prince seemed entirely unconcerned about the contest while he talked with others; he was now in the ring. The Rosethorn Knights were bellowing loud protests.
“How can he so easily cut through our lord’s energy?”
“The prince jumped in while the duke’s posture was unstable!”
Through their conversation, Hestia learned that the Crown Prince had completely countered her uncle’s energy in a single movement.
‘He defeated imperial paladins several times,’ Hestia thought, ‘It seems that it wasn’t just rumored. What a wonderful achievement at such a young age.’
Still, Hestia Neumann Tudor thought that such an achievement was meaningless in front of her uncle, who was said to be the best in the west. It was a hasty judgment.
There was a quick flash of light, and the duel was already over – without Hestia being sure what had happened. Her uncle stood, looking desperate as he held a sword cut in half. The prince who stood before him raised his chin arrogantly. Both men were fine, without wounds, but it wasn’t difficult to tell who was the winner and who was the loser. Surprisingly, Hestia’s uncle, called the best knight in the west, couldn’t even stop the prince’s first strike.
But something more surprising was yet to come.
“Again!”
The Crown Prince suggested that the quality of the duke’s sword had not been good and suggested that they compete again. Hestia’s uncle was angrier than ever before and entered the duel with the same seriousness as that of facing his life-long enemy. And he lost – he lost countless times and suffered greater and greater shame. Later, he couldn’t even resist when he was attacked.
“Princess!”
When the Crown Prince called out, Hestia declared that the contest had ended with the prince’s victory. Until then, her uncle could still not wake up. In the end, he was dragged away, being supported by knights with hopeless faces. Then, he became stuck in his lodgings, never exiting through the door.
As Hestia considered her uncle’s image when she had last seen him, it seemed impossible that he would regain his usual energetic appearance while he remained in Leonberg. The atmosphere of the entire delegation became subdued. Negotiations haven’t even started in earnest yet, but a defeatist attitude was already rampant. Only Hestia Neumann Tudor was enlivened by the events; it was an opportunity.
It was only after her uncle, who was both her guardian and her keeper, became a recluse that Hestia knew she had become the delegation’s real voice. She immediately took action.
After making her plans, she started seeking an audience with the Crown Prince. It wasn’t her favorite method, but she decided to use her world-famous beauty in her favor. However, the prince didn’t seem to be swayed by the presence of a beautiful woman.
“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll close the meeting now.”
The Crown Prince had said this with cold eyes, and Hestia was unsure whether he was taking a gamble. His words weren’t empty; while she kept her seat, the prince jumped from his and started walking to the door.
It was then Hestia Neumann Tudor had an intuition: She knew that if she didn’t stop the Crown Prince from leaving, she would never again have a chance to be alone with him. Before he turned to the door, the expression on the prince’s face made it clear to Hestia that he considered the current meeting as a waste of time.
“The Leonberg Kingdom. No, how far are you looking, Crown Prince?”
She halted the prince, who was about to leave and decided to give voice to the plan she had kept within herself all this time. Hestia’s heart pounded, knowing she could lose everything if this went wrong. It was a gamble she would never have taken if things were as they usually were.
“Now I’m getting a little interested.”
Fortunately, the Crown Prince seemed to like Hestia’s proposal. Then he asked what she wanted from it, and Hestia Neumann Tudor did not hesitate to answer.
“Marriage. Please allow me to become the Crown Princess of Leonberg.”
It was a truly ironic fate for Hestia. She had hoped that she could go beyond those limits of being a woman that was imposed upon her. And now, for the first time in her life, it was she who was asking another to marry her, she who needed it. A bitter smile came to her lips.
She knew this situation would be ideal for her.
According to prevailing rumors, the Crown Prince was not a man who cared too much about his domestic matters. He was said to prefer being on the battlefield rather than staying at the royal palace. Even now, he had left the task of heading the delegation to his brother, the Prime Minister, and the Great Marshal. It was clear that he had little interest in political subtleties.
It wouldn’t be bad to be such a person’s wife: The man goes off to war while the woman gets to rule.
“If your Highness welcomes me in marriage, both you and the Kingdom of Leonberg will gain a lot.”
Hestia believed that the Crown Prince would not refuse her offer; the position of the league’s leader was worth it. Hestia believed it; she truly did.
“Not possible.”
No- there came a resolute objection that didn’t allow any words to counter it.
“If I leave you on your own, princess, I think you’ll try to swallow up our entire kingdom,” the prince explained his refusal in a cold tone.
Hestia couldn’t even refute his statement; she couldn’t lie while facing his gaze, which made her feel as if she was transparent, as if the prince was looking inside of her.
Of course, she had expected him to accept, so she was left speechless. Her lips quivered.
“But I can think of something else,” the Crown Prince said, grinning as he stood up from his seat.
“What else is there?” Hestia managed to ask, only then regaining her senses.
“Why do you ask me about that?” the prince replied, clucking his tongue. “Aren’t you the representative of Teuton?”
Hestia’s heart jumped when the prince said she was Teuton’s representative. Her face became blank, vacant without her knowledge. The prince didn’t seem to be paying attention to her thoughts. At least, Hestia thought so.
“Let’s think about it. You know something? In the negotiations with Leonberg, you may yet break the walls you so dearly wish to overcome.”
Hestia was left speechless again.
“If you gain the exclusive right to trade in dwarven weapons, then even a princess without any real power will be able to stand in the center of the power structure, all at once.”
The Crown Prince was surprisingly aware of Hestia’s ambitions and circumstances, the horror in her heart which she had not yet resolved.
‘Thump thump thump~’
Hestia’s heart started beating faster.
“Well, I don’t know what you mean.”
She tried to refine her expression by doing away with her pretense. The prince didn’t continue speaking about her dangerous ambitions; he just chuckled.
‘Drchk~’
The Crown Prince had already turned the doorknob but suddenly looked back.
“The next time we meet, let’s stop with this talentless acting.”
Hestia’s face became dazed by the unexpected words, but she managed to speak.
“Not one of the Teutons have ever said as much to me.”
The crown prince laughed when Hestia jokingly criticized him for his harsh evaluation of her.
“All of the Teutons have failed to notice.”
When Hestia heard the prince’s conclusion, she finally burst into the laughter she had tried to endure keeping within her. Then she felt the prince’s gaze settle on her, and she shut her mouth.
If her uncle or father had been present, they would’ve rebuked her for not acting like a princess.
Not the Crown Prince; he said that he liked her appearance of honest laughter rather than the flower-like laughter she created as part of her act.
“In the future, please laugh like that in front of me. Because you look better that way.”
After saying this, the prince left the room.
‘Bwak~’
The door was closed. Hestia Neumann Tudor was left alone and looked blankly at the door, and she suddenly touched her face.
‘In the future, laugh like that in front of me.’
‘Because it looks good.’
The short words the Crown Prince had spoken rumbled like thunder in Hestia’s head.
‘Why is my heart jumping like this?’ she thought.
* * *
“Did I do anything useful?”
As soon as I left the room, regret flooded me, and I tried to shake off those regrets.
The princess of Teuton possessed talents that were rare in this world, among which was her ability to bloom on her own at any time, even if it wouldn’t be for me. It was a much better option for her to use marriage to fulfill her future purposes, rather than putting herself in such a position for moderate gains.
“The most beautiful rose in the Tudor garden.”
I suddenly remembered how the Teutons referred to Hestia, and I laughed.
“The rose has many thorns.”
I would rather not know whether I would call her a lioness.