If men can repeat their lives, would they opt to do so?

For those who lived a life of glory,

Would they relive their lives to experience their triumph all over again?

For those who lived a life of boredom,

Would they relive their lives to seek delight and fight their tedium of daily lives?

For those who lived a life of agony,

Would they relive their lives to go through it all over again?

For those who lived a life of mistakes,

Would they relive their lives to amend those errors?

Whatever one’s choice of believing whether there’s another life after death, the general consensus would say that human would have no choice but to turn to dust at least once.

And should men can relive their lives after they turned into dust,

Would their lives restart and go according to the same course?

For live starts at one point, and despite its twists and turns, it would always end in the same way

Then, let joyous news be delivered to those who pass their lives in peace,

For it takes only one twist of fate to throw their lives upside down

A twist to make one hungers over glory

A twist to make one starves over excitement

A twist to make one aches under agony

A twist to make one suffers under mistakes

And for those who unfortunate enough to encounter the whims of fate,

Let it be reminded to them, that even their lives repeat a hundred times,

Only one conclusion can be deducted

So much glory to seek

So much delight to find

So much agony to endure

So much blunder to amend

So little time

--- Excerpts from the Archives of the Grand Lunar Regime ---

=========

Bravell.

The city could pretty much be summed as “a majestic port city, an important node of trade, and a home to ten million people”.

But of course, there was more to that. It was, after all, one of the earliest human settlements in the continent.

For the last two thousand years it had seen all manners and sorts of destruction. Violent rains and storms, long droughts, giant waves, vicious quakes, fire, invasion, war, famine. The city had been toppled over and was utterly destroyed many times, only to rise again from its ashes. The current city was the eleventh city built on that ground.

Known as the city of valour, and gifted with the title of “City of Heroes”. It was a living monument of how persistent human beings can be.

Within the confines of arenite walls which spanned for over one hundred arvina (about two kilometres) in length and one thousand lvina (about twenty metres) in height, structures—both old and new, sprawled and amalgamated into its landscape. Even with a horse carriage, one couldn’t reach the edge of the city from the other edge in a day travel. Such was the majesty of Bravell.

When the previous master of the city, the aged and weakened Grand Lunar Regime, collapsed, Bravell was ushered to be the capital of its continent, known by the tongue of men as Sverzemlya--- the northern lands. The city took another three hundred years before it was incorporated into another state--- a federated empire, the Empire of Fymia. Although like any major cities in the Federation, Bravell had managed to hold on into its autonomy.

At that present it was the seat of one of the ten states of the Federation, the Holy Principalities of Serenadia.

The state was governed from a magnificent palace by the center of the city, ‘The Grand Palace of Bravell’. Even though Bravell never served as the capital of the Grand Lunar Regime, the regime built it so that no man could ever match its splendour. The palace was built from the rarest and sturdiest marble, adorned with precious jewels and exquisite pieces of arts from all over the lands. In the palace there was no less than a thousand room and ten thousands of servants, with its halls, lively and bright, and its ceilings, high and mighty.

The palace truly was a genuine achievement of mankind.

It was late afternoon, a certain man was walking through the halls of that palace.

He was a man of medium stature, if one were to compare him to the average height of the people of Bravell, his skin was fair, his brown hair tied, his eyes, brown, and there was a peculiar faint scar under his right eye. From his tidy, refined clothes one could tell that he was at least no common person.

The man knew that he was late for his affairs, but he chose to dally anyway.

After all, the palace never ceased to impress him. Despite it was certainly not the first time for him to be there, he wanted to savour the beauty for a little bit.

Occasionally, the passing servants would halt and greeted him. He would give them a short reply and continue walking. Dallying as he was, he ultimately reached his destination.

“Good afternoon. You are quite late, Sir Ravenlicht. The assembly has been going for an hour now.”

A soldier who stood beside a peculiar ornate door adorned with gold greeted him.

“I’d have to ask the Grand Princess to pardon me for that. I’m afraid I have no excuses for this tardiness, may I pass nonetheless?”

So the man replied, and he was granted entrance.

As he entered, the vision of an imposing octagonal chamber came to his sight.

A heated discussion was going on in that room. Before he’d hear what the debate was all about, he examined the room for an empty seat, and secured it.

“Late, again, Sir Lys?”

The lady by his right seat greeted him with a reprimanding tone as she put a heavy emphasis on her second word.

“Ah, I don’t really have any reason for that. If my apologies would help, let me apologise then. What did I miss?”

“Bugger all. If anything, both Lord Kashvag and Lady Sinod are at it again.”

The debate between the two had always been, or almost always been, the everyday agenda for that assembly. Particularly, the assembly was the Serenadian parliament, or as it was usually referred, the ‘council’.

Except on weekends, the council of forty-eight princes and princesses, and one “Grand Princess” would gather to discuss issues concerning their state.

The forty-eight princes and princess themselves comprised twenty four hereditary princes and twenty four elected princes. The ‘Grand Princess’ title itself was hereditary.

Like the title implied, there were fundamental differences between hereditary and elected princes. The state, the Holy Principalities of Serenadia, was a confederate state of forty-nine titular principalities. The elected princes, while titled, were not landed. In the other hand, the hereditary princes were titled and landed, although their lands were inside the city instead of anywhere else in Serenadia.

Needless to say, while hereditary princes hold their title for life, elected princes would hold the title for only six years. After the end of the six years, a popular election would be held throughout Bravell. If one were to wish to maintain their position, a campaign to bolster support would be necessary.

It was possible for one to maintain the position as an elected prince, however, provided that he was popular enough, since there was no period limit for an elected prince to rerun his or her candidacy.

The man, Lys Ravenlicht, was one of the elected princes.

The system that Serenadia held itself, while seemed to take the aspiration of its common people into consideration, could be called as anything but efficient.

Lys had no idea why the state would bother to hold an election, while in fact if the hereditary princes wished to control the parliament they could easily do so since the Grand Princess position was hereditary as well. All they need to do was to ask the Grand Princess to accept their motions. If the Grand Princess could not weather their pressure, it would be a given that she’d give in.

After all, elected princes would change every six years. The hereditary princes would stay there indefinitely. It was better for the Grand Princess to maintain the favour of those who would most likely serve as her lifetime partners.

So it seemed to Lys that the election was some sort of a clever devised tactic to make people believe that they had a say in the government. While there was some element of truth of it, it was certainly not entirely true.

It wasn’t a guaranteed case that the hereditary princes would always stay united though, and such was the reason why the system wasn’t precisely efficient.

The parliament was divided into two factions. One was the Prince Kashvag’s faction, the other was Princess Sinod’s faction.

They didn’t adhere to a particular belief. One of them could be leaning to leftist policies for one day and then they could lean the other way on the next. One thing for sure was, if Prince Kashvag were to support a motion, it was likely for Princess Sinod to go against him. If Sinod’s motion were to be approved by the parliament, Kashvag would try anything at his expense to make it repealed later. They were in that sort of quid pro quo relationship.

Both Sinod and Kashvag were hereditary princes, in any case.

“My point is, Lord Kashvag. More settlements means more taxes. We can still tax them and may warn them that building settlements outside the arenite walls would make them unguarded against whatever menaces out there. However, we have no business to tell them where to live, let alone to punish them for it.”

“I object, Lady Sinod. Let the arenite walls do its job. Letting them to live beyond the walls would ensure disorder for Serenadia. We’ve been doing well to maintain the security of Bravell. I can’t risk myself to allow those settlements, they could turn into a bandit’s lair by any moment now. The last thing I’d like to hear, milady, was the news that shipments from the other states were gone while they were passing through Serenadia. Do you want them to think that we are incapable of maintaining order? They clearly refused the crown’s order and refused to negotiate as well. Why would you think they’d gladly pay their taxes if we let them?”

It seemed that they were still exchanging blows.

‘By the way, what’s the agenda for today?’

Lys unrolled his parchment. Written on it was the parliament’s agenda for that day.

Ah.

It seemed to be a serious issue.

It appeared that some people were trying to build new settlements outside Bravell in Serenadian land. This was a big no for the council and the government in general.

There were a lot of reasons to start with, but authorities had found themselves struggling to maintain the order of Bravell alone. If not for certain, these settlements were a potential added hassle.

Leaving the settlements to deal with themselves was out of the question, too.

The settlements were practically were under the jurisdiction of the Serenadian Golden Throne. If anything were to happen to the settlements (or if the settlements turned out to be lairs for outlaws), this may be seen as a weakness.

It would definitely weaken the position of the Grand Princess before the federation and the Fymian High Emperor, it was the last thing Serenadia would want to see.

The settlers however insisted to maintain their stance to keep building their settlements. Negotiations were made and failed. So that would lead to…

‘Suppression, huh…’

The assembly was discussing whether they should mobilise the army to suppress the settler or not.

In times of peace, mobilising an army is a big deal. This would be the topic for people out there for a month or so.

“Then we’ll settle this with a vote, those who vote aye?”

It seemed that Kashvag had had enough debate for today, and for that he initiated the voting session.

Twenty, twenty one, twenty four raised their right hand.

“Those who vote nay?”

Fifteen, sixteen…

Lys raised his right hand as well.

“Oh? Sir Ravenlicht. It’s quite rare to see you abandoning your general principles of… uh, neutrality and supporting Lady Sinod instead. Did she manage to convince you to join her faction?”

A question from Kashvag.

That reaction was to be expected.

Lys Ravenlicht usually would prefer to abstain from voting since he felt it would drag him into either of the two factions. For him to actually vote was a rare sight.

“No, Milord. I remain steadfast to maintain my strict neutrality. However, I feel that sending an army to suppress a number of poor-equipped peasants wishing to live their lives outside Bravell is overdoing it. And besides…”

Lys shifted his gaze.

“Her Grace doesn’t seem to be convinced.”

All of the other forty-seven gazes were now shifted to the northern side of the room.

There, the lone Grand Princess of Serenadia silently sat.

She didn’t raise her hand, thus she was abstaining.

“Uh, Sir Ravenlicht spoke the truth, Lord Kashvag. I’m actually at a loss. Certainly letting them would cause unwanted problems, but to send an army…”

That, she said it with a meek voice.

Grand Princess of Serenadia, Lulley of the Vatnab House, was a girl in her adolescence. Silk black straight hair, bright blue eyes, characteristic button nose; clothing preference: modest long white dress accented with a silver tiara; exceedingly popular with the people; incredibly good at singing, and…

“B-but if Lord Kashvag think it’s good. Maybe we should go with it…”

A complete pushover.

Perhaps she ascended the throne a little bit too early.

This was never said out loud by anyone though.

Since she was loved by the people, taking a stance against her was plain foolishness, even for someone of a noble stature. A move against her would be considered as a move against people Bravell itself. Therefore, critics against her administration were usually held at bay.

But not for Kashvag.

Now, certainly Kashvag had won that day, with 24 against 16 votes to be exact.

Even if the Grand Princess were to vote nay, the army would still be mobilized. The voting system in Serenadia was absolute and while the Grand Princess’ vote was equivalent to two votes (the maximum tallied vote being 50), she did not have the absolute power to reject the decision of the assembly.

Not to mention that the other princes and princesses abstaining were unlikely to shift their opinion.

But it wasn’t a complete victory for him, not until the Grand Princess truly supported him.

“Your Grace. I see that you aren’t thoroughly convinced.”

“As expected, sending an army to suppress a group of settlers is a little bit too cruel for my tastes…”

“A group?! Your Grace, they are in their thousands. This isn’t a mere act of defiance. You’ve got thousands of people resisting the crown’s order, it’s a prelude to a possible rebellion!”

So he said, with his voice raised.

The assembly was consumed by silence.

Prince Sinn Kashvag was indeed amongst a group of rare people who would dare to raise their voice against the Grand Princess. Perhaps because he knew in the end of the day Lulley would never take an action against him.

“Cruel? In this case, cruelty is needed to be benevolent. The two may be contradictory, but to be a truly a benevolent leader, it is necessary to uphold discipline and order of the state, even at the expense of thousands of defiant settlers. Unless you think otherwise, would you support this move, Your Majesty?”

“Or do you have something against the move? Either way, you are the Grand Princess of Serenadia, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit assertive, hmm?”

It was a thorough scolding.

Perhaps it was a trick of the eye, but Lys could’ve sworn that he saw Lulley shivered for a moment there.

“Yes. Indeed. If it’s really for a greater cause for the country, then I’ll… gladly support Lord Kashvag. I vote for the action to suppress of the settlers as well.”

Said Lulley bashfully, and thus it fulfilled the condition of a complete victory for him. With that, Kashvag’s face floated a faint smirk.

As for Sinod and those in her faction, they maintained their silence.

Maybe Sinod knew that the day was already Kashvag’s, anyway since the Grand Princess voted aye, it was impossible to alter the decision as it was now supported by more than half of the assembly.

For the first time in twenty years, the army of Serenadia was to head out for battle.

“Well then, now that it’s settled, let’s decide the date for the army to march out. Oh, and tell the scribe to prepare a written declaration of war to the settlers.”

And so Kashvag ended the session, and the rest of the assembly proceeded in an awkward manner.

----v----

The seas had just finished swallowing the sun down as Lys settled himself and took a seat he was accustomed to.

It was another evening for a tavern named “North Star”.

The tavern was a well-known establishment where most middle-class merchants of Bravell would gather once the sun goes down. The tavern conveniently situated in the midst of the Market District, no wonder it was a preferred place for the merchants to flock together or to gulp the rest of the day away.

For Lys, unless he really didn’t feel like it, he would frequent this tavern after work.

“Did you hear? The army is going to war!”

“Yeah, Lord Kashvag drove even the Grand Princess to support the hostility against the folks up north. I feel sorry for them, but since they’re so stubborn…”

“Ah about that, I heard that Lord Kashvag shouted at the Grand Princess! Poor young lady, she must’ve tried her best to resist that kind of pressure…”

Lys wasn’t there for a mere drink.

The main reason he was there, well,

It was mainly to pry over the conversations.

As he listened to three merchants discussing what happened in the parliament chamber earlier that day. Lys silently muttered,

‘The day isn’t over yet and the news has already reached them, huh…’

Lys knew that most of the merchants in the tavern have impressive networks to quickly gather information from around the town, but he never knew the merchants would know what happened in the council chamber, which was supposed to be contained, so quickly.

Indeed, the tavern was known to be the best place to gather information. Most of what happened in Bravell that day would be discussed by the flocking merchants later at that place.

Of course, since they gather every night, the merchants in that tavern knew each other by face. Lys has frequented the tavern before he was elected prince, but he kept interactions to the minimum and thus was branded as an unsociable man. No one knew Lys’ name save for the barkeep, and he was known by the folks as “the sulking guy who talks only to the Keep”.

This wasn’t his intention, certainly, but he never knew it’d keep his anonymity even after he got elected. The Market District was located in the northeast of the city and he wasn’t quite known in the northeast. Since he planned to keep it that way, the only one knew who Lys was in that peculiar part of town was pretty much only the Keep.

Well, for the Keep to know Lys was to be expected, as the Keep was notorious for knowing a lot of names. Ironic that in the other hand practically no one knew his name, he never told and no one ever asked. Everyone just knew him as ‘Keep’.

“Hey, Keep, the usual.”

“Sure. Sea beer, coming right up.”

The Keep poured clear greenish liquid into Lys’ cup.

The name of beverage was certainly sea beer, but it wasn’t an alcoholic drink.

Bravell was ruled by the Grand Lunar Regime for at least ten centuries, and ruled for that long, a lot of its culture have changed. It was only recently that Bravell could finally see open breweries and booming demand for alcohol.

The main reason was when the regime was in charge, alcoholic beverages were strictly prohibited and that kind of business was forced underground.

People at that time could still find such commodity, but they were so expensive that consumption was limited only for the rich. Those who couldn’t afford the spending would still gather in taverns every night, only to enjoy drinks with no alcohol—since the regime was known to be very strict, and legal establishment couldn’t afford to mess around with the authorities.

Of course the tavern drinkers couldn’t reserve to mere fruit juice, and thus to compensate the prohibition a lot of beverages were invented during that time. Sea beer was one of them.

Believed to cure a sailor’s seasickness, the beer was a preferred alternative for most people in Bravell who were sailors and merchants. Only local experienced brew-master can brew it though, and only a few select taverns can make it right. Thus, it was regarded as a prized local commodity.

However, it was not that the tavern didn’t serve alcohol, Lys just needed to stay sober so he could hear the conversations around him.

“I can’t really blame Lord Kashvag though. Ever since the Federation it has been very quiet here, how many years have it been since the army last went into battle? Fifteen, twenty? Anyway the regulars are getting restless, if it was only guard duty, the palace might think it would be wise to cut off the number of the personnel…”

When the conversation amongst the merchants went to the direction of belittling Kashvag due to the incident with the Grand Princess, one of them suddenly said that.

“So it’s true, huh?”

“What’s true?”

“They’re going to war, that’s true right? Just because the army has been inactive?”

Lys sighed. Surely the Keep overheard the conversations too. He might’ve already grasped the idea that a war might be looming anytime soon.

“Yes. But what I heard back then was different, the army being inactive wasn’t the only reason. No-- in fact it wasn’t even mentioned back then. Defiance against the crown was the main reason, I guess. But now after I heard him, I’m not so sure anymore.”

Perhaps the reason was army inactiveness all along.

There were approximately fifty thousand personnel in the army, and the state was still regularly paying soldiers’ wages until just in case.

But since Bravell and the rest of the states have been stable since the Fymian administration, it was inevitable for skeptics to question the effectiveness of their current wages or the overwhelming numbers of personnel.

When pressured enough, it was almost guaranteed that the Grand Princess would issue or propose cuts.

This wouldn’t sit well for the current personnel. Their minds must have been occupied by the cuts, probably daily.

And if it were really to happen anytime soon, those who got cut out have limited options— with mercenary work being the most probable option since there was very little land to toil in Bravell. Not to mention, for those in the military, they may have difficulty to return to ordinary lives.

To have them remain with their salary cut wasn’t a desirable condition either.

A war, however small, would justify their existence. It would justify the number of personnel and their wages as well.

It was like shouting “See? I told you the army is still needed!” at the people. That would effectively silence the skeptics as well.

“But we definitely won’t conscript, so no worries there. Anyway, what did you hear from the other costumers about this, Keep? Are they bothered with it?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. Since the war will be up north and most of the supplies are delivered by sea, business in town pretty much won’t be disturbed. Then again, that’s if you can call it a war.”

“I see. Well I’m not sure if you can call it a war either. It’ll be a set of small skirmishes at best. The settlers are not an army… Facing a real army, they’ll back down.”

“Maybe so… Anyway, it’ll cause a minor disturbance for the North Road trades. Those who use that road are trading with Amalgamatia for silver and Tsaryn for weapons, so silver and weapons will be a little bit more expensive for the next few days. Oh, but the weapons will stay that way for a while I guess. As you can see, weapon merchants here have been energetic since earlier now.”

It was a detailed forecast. If the Keep were to trade, he’d be a major player for sure.

However, when trying to imagine the Keep as a major merchant, Lys chuckled a bit.

While it was true that he’s good at price forecasting, Lys just couldn’t imagine him in that way. Probably he’d prefer to run this establishment for the rest of his life instead.

“You sure know your stuff, Keep.”

“Having these guys over every night, you’re bound to know a thing or two.”

It wasn’t flattery, Lys believed that the Keep was knowledgeable in this subject.

“Anyway, if anything, these guys were excited about one thing. Since the Grand Princess will be going to war as well----”

“Do they, now? I thought they’d be repulsed by that idea. I mean the Grand Princess is a woman, a very young one too… For them to be in the battlefield is a bit too much…”

“What epoch are you from, the Regime’s? Those ladies up northeast… Enricians, was it? They handed our arses over back in the Great War a few decades back. Nowadays women have the same place in the battlefield like men do.”

“They’re Lilians, alright. Stories are just stories though, it’s not like you and I ever see them…”

Lilia.

A matriarchal state some arvina away from Bravell in the northeast.

Lilia was one of the most enigmatic nations, if not the most perplexing, out of the ten states of Fymia.

It was said that there was no single man in that country, and they were notorious for not permitting any man to enter their territories. That was their condition when they joined the Federation.

Their capital, Enricia, was rumored to be an ethereal dwelling no man can ever build. Their look was fairer than any look of the fairest maidens. Their eyes was said to change according to their mood. Their blood was supposed to be of a dragon’s.

There were all sorts of ridiculous and impossible-sounding rumors surrounding them, as there were no chroniclers or travelers that could verify the truth of such tales. No one knew whether stories about them were true or not. Lys would disregard these as tall-tales himself.

But one thing was known about them.

Like Serenadian relationship to its chief city Bravell, they never allowed any of their citizens to live outside the confines of Enricia. Lys never saw any of them in his life, and it looks like the Keep never saw them either.

It was like they were some sort of mythological being.

Something straight out of a fairy tale.

They conversed about Lilians, until the topic of their conversation went erratic and lighter. Before Lys knew it, the bittersweet liquor that was on his cup ran out. Lys went for another five cups before he tossed six pieces of silver coins to the Keep as he left the tavern.

It was indeed, a typical evening for the North Star.

====v====

It was past midnight when Lys finally caught the sight of his estate.

His residence, inherited from his late father, was a two-story manor with modest outlook. Its masonry was built with limestone boulders, and it had a characteristic gray-colored roof. These characteristics were common for most houses in Bravell.

As an elected prince, he was entitled to use a personal chamber in the Grand Palace. But he preferred to commute from home every day due to various reasons. He’d use his chamber in the palace occasionally should other circumstances arise in the parliament, though.

The neighborhood where his estate situated had already ruled by silence at his time of arrival. Occasionally the cries of night insects would break the quietness, but in the end it only reinforced the calm atmosphere of that night.

Lys returned his horse to the stable and sluggishly turned to the main entrance.

“There’s still light inside, eh…”

He wasn’t pondering. He knew that even it was very late, someone was waiting for him behind that door.

True to that expectation, as he opened the door a familiar figure came to greet him.

“Welcome home, sir.”

Illuminated by the faint light of the chandelier was a lady taller than him, with curly hazel hair, hazy blue eyes, and shapely figure. Her figure of speech and movements were so gracious, if it wasn’t for the housemaid attire one could easily mistake her for a noblewoman.

Such mistake was to be expected, though.

After all, she was in fact, once a noblewoman.

“I’m home, Betta. Sorry to have kept you until this late.”

Betta took Lys’ coat off him while shaking her head, “please do not mind”, she said.

Elisabetta Ravenlicht, known better as her shorter nickname “Betta”,

Or, as she asserted recently, “just Elisabetta”, was Lys’ older half-sister.

The circumstances surrounding the Ravenlicht house after Lys’ late father departed was complex, but to simplify things, let it be known that Lys’ mother wasn’t exactly known as a virtuous woman. Albeit she settled down when she married into the Ravenlicht family, Elisabetta was an inerasable proof of whom she once was.

Back then, Lys’ father, Yernes, didn’t care about what his peers had said about the idea of having her as his own family and raised Betta as his own daughter.

At that time Yernes was at his apex, he was a major merchant in Bravell and it was expected that he had to deal with Serenadian noblemen. His influence was wide enough for people to consider him as one of the nobles. This influence was a major factor for Lys’ election, and it had successfully made him an elected prince.

Betta, as Yernes’ daughter, received proper education as a noblewoman, for she was expected to take part in dealing with the family business and relations sooner or later.

Yernes had expected Lys to excel in politics, and Betta to excel in business.

Except that didn’t happen.

Lys’ mother, Lyra, despite the protests of Yernes, made it very clear for Betta that she didn’t share Yernes’ flesh and blood. Betta never showed Yernes her discontent about this, and she treated and respected Yernes like her own father, too.

That changed when Yernes passed away.

The first thing she did was to throw away her surname. Later she asked Lys whether she was allowed to remain in the residence, to which Lys replied with a natural yes.

But things never returned as it used to.

Betta, in turn, agreed to remain in the house, but only as a servant.

Then, perhaps what she did in front of Yernes was an act out of gratitude.

Not even once that she felt worthy enough to be his daughter.

When Yernes passed away, such act was no longer necessary.

Of course as a servant, she insisted to call Lys “master” at first.

Lys wasn’t going to have any of that, he argued that Yernes would never accept Betta’s decision, reminded her that they shared the same mother nonetheless, and they had been a close pair of siblings for twenty years. In the end he managed to settle things with her calling him “sir” instead.

Lys still wasn’t happy with it. But at least “sir” was better than the subservient servant-like way of calling her younger sibling like “master”. Nonetheless, it was the most distant and loneliest way possible to address one’s sibling, especially since Betta had been taking care of him since forever.

He once thought that it might be better for Betta to marry and start a family of her own rather than staying at the residence as a servant. But Betta had a problem of her own as well.

Lys lived in a society where hereditary issues seriously mattered, particularly when it comes to marriage. In spite of Yernes’ best effort to introduce Betta to his peers as his own daughter, everyone knew who Betta was. It was her uncertain birth that made it very difficult for her to find a partner.

In any case, for a family with a stature like Ravenlicht, an unmarried daughter who couldn’t marry for any reason whatsoever was also a possible source of shame.

For her the options were limited.

If she didn’t want to be a burden the Ravenlicht house, it was either she remain in the residence as a servant, or leave the residence altogether and let the streets decide her fate for her.

Obviously for Lys there was only the first choice, surely Betta wouldn’t want to go if it was possible for her to stay.

Thankfully, even with her antics, Betta didn’t defy one of Yernes’ biggest wish. At that present she was the one managing Yernes’ business and residence, albeit as a self-proclaimed servant instead of Yernes’ heir.

In the Ravenlicht residence, she had been managing most of the housework with five other maids whose names Lys could never remember. She and Lys had agreed to hire no guards for the house, since there was practically no precious articles in the house itself--- save for a horse, and horses were relatively cheap in Bravell.

Since there were neither men nor guards in the house, it would mean that he’d have to commute from home. The area surrounding his residence was considered one of the safest parts of the town, but it was better to at least infer that there was a man in the house, just in case…

“Sir? You’ve been spacing out for a while now.”

“Ah… Sorry.”

Betta’s voice brought Lys back.

“I took the liberty to prepare a bath for you. Since it has been very warm today… But if you’re very tired, please go straight to bed.”

“No, Betta… By the way, mind if I ask you something?”

He recalled what happened earlier that day.

Serenadia, for the first time after a long while, was going to start a war.

Although he was a mere elected prince and his army would be borrowed from the hereditary ones, he’d still have to lead the army into the battle.

“If I were to go to war, how would you feel?”

When she heard that, she raised her eyebrows a bit.

“It depends. Sir, are you asking a hypothetical question, or is this a question of what’s to come?”

‘… She’s sharp’, was what Lys thought. Perhaps when it comes to Lys her intuition was strong. Though as much as he’d like to tell, he had no plans to reveal what happened in the parliament chamber yet.

“No, never mind... Anyway, you took the trouble to prepare the bath for me. I’ll at least take a quick dip before I retire for the night.”

“As you wish, sir.”

She bowed as Lys started to ascend the stairs to his quarter.

“… By the way, Betta. Tomorrow might be a good time to start buying silver…”