The Unknown Princess (2)

Benelia von Esteban.

The Empire's Third Princess was a celebrated commander whose achievements during the Orc Conquest War had become legend.

She had been only twelve when she somehow wrested command of the Celestial Army from its existing commander and unified the troops under her authority. How she managed it was still a mystery.

Yet no one in the Empire could deny what followed.

Under Benelia, the Celestial Army won all seven engagements and played a leading part in driving the orcs back toward the demon realm.

Some people called her the Iron-Blooded Princess and revered her as a hero.

Even someone like me, who had little to do with the imperial family or its institutions, knew her story.

So why had such a distinguished person come to my room in the middle of the night?

She hadn't even knocked. She had arrived with armed knights at her back, as though intent on displaying the power she held over me.

I didn't know what she wanted, but this looked suspiciously like an interrogation disguised as a conversation.

And now she's telling me to destroy myself socially…

If word spread that I'd violated my slave before the eyes of an imperial princess, House Deharem would be ruined.

Surely Benelia couldn't seriously mean that I should continue.

Perhaps her outrageous suggestion was merely a warning to stop what I was doing and show proper respect.

She was rumored to enjoy pornography, but that hardly meant she was so shameless that she wanted to witness such a scene in person.

Having reached that conclusion, I tied the elf's loosened collar fastening again and stood up.

Calm down.

The princess was sitting before the table, looking up at me. My hands trembled, but I could endure this.

I had been born to an old noble family and trained in courtly manners. I was the viscount trusted by Count Leonberg.

I could surely find a way through an encounter like this.

“Your Highness.”

I bent from the waist, drew my left foot back and placed a hand over my heart, offering the proper salute to an imperial family member.

“Theorad, seventh head of House Deharem and Viscount under the Count of Pelgaroin, pays his respects to His Majesty's illustrious bloodline.”

“Oh? Your manners are quite good. Better, in fact, than some of the eunuchs in the palace. Have you learned anything else?”

I did not answer.

The princess had yet to grant me permission to rise from my formal greeting.

Benelia stared at me for a moment, then gave a hollow little laugh as though wondering whether I truly intended to remain in that position.

“Very well. I, Benelia von Esteban, of His Majesty the Emperor's bloodline, grant you leave to look upon me. Raise your head.”

Only then did I straighten.

There was an inexplicable interest in the princess's golden eyes.

“Such a serious fellow. How peculiar.”

“…I'll take that as a compliment.”

“A compliment? No, not particularly. In any case, looking up at you is hurting my neck. Unless you want to make an imperial princess ill, sit across from me.”

“As you wish.”

I took a chair from the table and sat opposite her.

Then I glanced toward the elf.

She had put her apron back in place and restored her hairband. Now she was watching Benelia intently.

Her face was nearly expressionless, but I had the uncomfortable impression that anger was gathering behind it.

“Theorad Deharem.”

I turned immediately to the princess and sat up straight.

“Do you play chess?”

“My father taught me when I was young.”

“Wonderful. Then we can talk over a game. I've been quite taken with chess lately.”

Roylen stepped forward before Benelia had finished speaking. He drew his wand, murmured a brief spell and tapped the table.

Light burst across the surface.

When it faded, a chessboard stood between us, its pieces already arranged.

We're really playing?

Benelia smiled with the delight of a child who had just been given exactly what she wanted.

Then her expression abruptly hardened, as though something disagreeable had come to mind.

“Viscount Theorad. One thing before we begin: do not go easy on me. Use every bit of your skill and crush me if you can. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I'll give the game my full attention.”

“Good. Then let's begin.”

Given our respective ranks, I took the black pieces and Benelia the white.

The princess moved a pawn first.

I replied by advancing my c7 pawn one square, adopting the Caro-Kann Defense.

The contest for the center of the board began. We exchanged moves several times, and before long we had entered the middle game.

That was when Benelia started spending an extraordinary amount of time on every decision.

“…I've heard quite a lot about you,” she said at last, still looking at the board.

They were the first words she had spoken since the game began.

“You were born into House Deharem and have led such an exemplary life that some might call it dull. You attend only the gatherings necessary for a nobleman, and though you're better than most at riding and archery, you don't hunt for pleasure. Is that right?”

“You've been accurately informed.”

“I thought so.”

“I have nothing against polite society, but too much socializing can make a person forget himself. You begin living through other people's eyes and pursuing luxuries you never truly wanted.”

“I see. And why don't you enjoy hunting?”

Benelia considered her next move for a long while, then shifted a piece.

I waited for her to finish before answering.

“Hunting to survive is one thing. Killing for amusement is another. It's a personal belief, but I think needless killing ultimately comes back to harm the person who indulges in it. That's why I avoid it.”

“Hah. You sound like a priest.”

“…Forgive me for asking, Your Highness, but do you enjoy hunting?”

“If I say I do, will you lecture me?”

“No. One person's convictions do not define the truth for the entire world.”

“One person's convictions aren't the truth…”

Benelia muttered the words so quietly that I couldn't tell whether she was speaking about my answer or the chessboard.

It worried me. A princess held far more power than I did, and I had no desire to offend her.

But as time passed, even that tension began to fade.

Benelia had fallen silent again, staring at the board without moving. She sat motionless for so long that it was difficult not to feel awkward.

At last, Roylen cleared his throat.

He bent slightly toward the princess and whispered, “Your Highness. In my opinion, the best move to recover the position would be—”

“Silence.”

Benelia turned sharply toward him.

“Roylen. This is a match between Viscount Theorad and me. Should a third party interfere?”

“…No, Your Highness.”

“Then why are you interfering?”

“I only wanted Your Highness to win…”

“That is loyalty turned crooked. Keep your mouth shut until the game is finished.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Roylen bowed and retreated.

The atmosphere had cooled, but Benelia simply returned to the board.

The silence stretched on.

Perhaps the elf had grown tired of watching us. Having finished straightening her clothes, she approached from behind me and spoke softly beside my ear.

“Master, aren't you thirsty?”

“Hm? Oh, now that you mention it, I am.”

“I'll bring a pitcher of water and some cups from the kitchen.”

Out of nowhere?

Fetching water was certainly something a servant might do, but it was strange for this elf to offer without being ordered.

Still, refusing would only make the atmosphere more awkward, and I had no sensible reason to object.

I nodded.

The elf walked calmly toward the door. Neither Roylen nor the two armed knights seemed to find anything unusual about it. They let her leave.

Meanwhile, Benelia remained absorbed in the game.

Perhaps Roylen's hint about the best move had made her more determined to solve the position herself. Several times she reached for a piece, only to withdraw her hand and begin thinking again.

At last, she gave a small cry of triumph and moved decisively.

“There! My pieces control the center now. Can you escape?”

She smiled as though victory were certain.

From my side of the board, however, the move was little more than an inexperienced player's gamble.

It looked impressive on the surface. Beneath that appearance was an enormous weakness.

If I captured her knight with my queen, her king would be checkmated.

Does she truly not see it?

I glanced up, uncertain.

Benelia still looked delighted with herself.

I didn't want to spoil that delight. But before the game she'd specifically ordered me not to hold back.

I had to obey.

“If you have no move left, surrendering would—”

“I do have a move.”

Click.

I moved my queen and captured her knight.

Benelia jerked backward in her chair, a hand flying to her mouth.

Her surprise was so complete that I almost felt guilty.

From a couple of steps away came Roylen's weary sigh.

“…”

The princess said nothing for a long time.

She seemed to be searching desperately for a way to recover from the position. I could see none.

Eventually she lowered her hand and regained her composure.

“I see.”

There was resignation in her voice.

She stared down at the chessboard one last time, then raised her eyes to mine.

“Viscount Theorad.”

The coolness of her tone brought all my nervousness rushing back.

Her golden eyes held me so steadily that I wondered whether she had found some astonishing move I'd overlooked.

After all, this was a woman who had commanded an army at twelve.

I swallowed, waiting.

Benelia's expression turned grave.

“How about we call it a draw?”

…Of all the things I had expected from an imperial princess, that was not one of them.