Chapter 7: I’m Curious Too

Perda, who was studying in the guest room, frowned as if he had misheard.

“You want me to meet with the lords?”

“Yes.”

But Luri nodded firmly.

“Do you know why our lady Valdrova is called ‘queen’?”

“I do. She killed the black dragon Godwin, and the Arken Empire granted her the title.”

The black dragon Godwin.

Pillar of darkness and source of all evil.

A being of pure malice, who even played a part in the birth of the demon king and desired chaos on the continent.

The one who finally took his life was the red dragoness Valdrova.

“That’s how she earned the title of queen and established her domain on the front line of the far east—or so I’ve heard.”

“That’s correct. I see you’re better informed than I thought. Do you know how many lordships are under Lady Valdrova’s authority?”

“Fifteen, right? Including the outlying villages, the number reaches 108.”

“…And the total population?”

“If I remember right, it was 5,256,532. But I don’t know the latest figures on births and deaths.”

Upon hearing that response, Luri frowned, not hiding her discontent.

“You sure know a lot for someone who claims to have no interest in power.”

There was a hint of Dragon Fear in that contempt.

Perda merely shrugged.

“I’ll be her husband. What greater disgrace would there be than not knowing what my future partner does?”

“Sounds convincing.”

Of course, Luri didn’t believe it. Her growing suspicions leaned more and more toward certainty.

In truth, Perda hadn’t studied for that reason.

‘I was just bored.’

After opening his circle, he had time to spare. While trying to achieve it, a single day wasn’t enough.

But now, with nothing else to do, he started reading about Valdrova—more for entertainment than anything else.

“In any case, how about meeting them?”

“I’m not interested. If it’s not necessary, I’d rather not go.”

“Even if you’re not interested, once you’re officially married to my lady, you’ll become her consort. If she handles external affairs, you’ll have to handle internal ones.”

“So I’ll be like the housewife.”

“Exactly.”

A man as housewife.

In the noble world, that was equivalent to saying he was more useless than his wife—something humiliating to the point of disgrace.

‘But humiliating… it’s not.’

This was about being the partner of the feared Valdrova, the so-called tyrant. Her race was already in a completely different league, and Perda didn’t have the strength to match her.

Just managing internal affairs at her side was a big enough role.

‘Me, overseeing the lords…?’

After some thought, he accepted the proposal.

“All right. I’ll go see them.”

“Then I’ll proceed to summon them.”

Luri bowed politely and left.

Until the very last moment, Perda noticed how sharp she was and didn’t overlook the not-so-innocent look she gave him.

He already knew exactly what her intention was.

‘She still doesn’t trust me.’

It’s natural for people to covet what’s in front of them.

Even the most upright, when power is within reach, want to taste it. And once they have it, they don’t let go. That’s how humans are.

‘But I’m curious too.’

Perda didn’t know himself as well as he thought. What kind of choice would he make when revenge no longer drove him?

He decided to test it on the stage she was preparing for him.

“All right. I’ll see them.”

***

On the continent of Serdes, there was a saying about nobles.

“The more inland they live, the fatter their bellies; the more on the frontier, the leaner they stay.”

The reason was simple life in the center was comfortable, while the front required constant vigilance against monsters.

But the lords of the far east broke that cliché.

“Sir Bosch, what a belly you have!”

“Haha! With so many worries, I can’t stop eating to ease my nerves.”

The Eastern Frontier Assembly.

There gathered the fifteen lords under Queen Valdrova, all with cheeks wobbling from fat. It had been a long time since they had met like this.

“But what urgent matter called us together? Things have been peaceful lately.”

“Can’t believe you’re so out of the loop. Haven’t you heard? Our queen has taken a fiancé. She wants us to meet him.”

“A fiancé?”

One of them, surprised, opened his eyes wide.

“What kind of lunatic would get engaged to the queen?”

“That’s what I’m saying. Only a true fool would accept something like that…”

“Looks like they picked the dumbest of the dumb.”

At the same time, they all began to wonder who this madman could be.

“They say he’s the third son of House Rosnova.”

“Rosnova? The knightly house that guards the Arken Empire! That bloodline is supposed to produce great talents.”

“But apparently not this third one. From what I’ve heard, he’s so weak even common soldiers surpass him. Even his own father rejected him.”

“Weaker than a regular soldier? Then he’s trash.”

“Ha! And we have to waste time on that kind of garbage…?”

“And he’s late too. What nerve.”

The older nobles were already visibly annoyed. It irritated them that some snot-nosed brat would show up with airs.

“So, what shall we do, gentlemen?”

“What do you mean?”

“If he’s going to be the queen’s consort, he’ll have a certain status. How should we receive him?”

The eldest replied.

“Either way, Valdrova will crush him. Why bow to him?”

“Right.”

“Bow to that good-for-nothing? Not a chance.”

They all seemed to agree.

“Lord Perda Rosnova makes his entrance!”

They adjusted their clothes and straightened up. After all, they were frontier lords, responsible for their people.

They intended to crush the new arrival’s confidence from the very start.

The doors of the conference hall opened.

Gray hair, blue eyes.

A crimson suit adorned with Valdrova’s golden emblem—sign of the queen’s consort.

That’s what they expected.

What they didn’t expect was Perda’s very presence.

“This is the supposed trash…?”

“Well, he’s quite the trash—tall and sharp-eyed.”

His body might have been weak compared to warrior bloodlines, but his bearing and manners spoke of nobility.

And most of all—it was his eyes that struck them.

They weren’t the arrogant eyes of a rebellious brat.

In those pupils was a serene lake, deep and heavy.

Before that poise—so improper for his age—all of them tensed.

Perda spoke.

“Tell me.”

His voice was that of a youth just past adolescence, but it carried the weight of an adult hardened by time.

“I’ll soon be the husband of Queen Valdrova.”

He stood with his hands behind his back, and his blue eyes swept over each of the nobles.

An extremely insolent gesture—yet none spoke. No, they couldn’t.

“So, should I address you with respect… or with condescension?”

Only then did they realize.

Valdrova’s fiancé wasn’t some fool or throwaway.

***

Half an hour earlier.

Perda had arrived about thirty minutes before at the Eastern Frontier Assembly.

Since it was an official matter, he traveled by carriage.

Looking at his watch, he murmured.

“I’m quite late.”

Perda was strict about punctuality. Being a minute late already bothered him; ten minutes, to him, was nearly a crime.

But Luri, who was responsible for the delay, responded with total coldness.

“You’re mistaken. Arriving ten minutes late is the foundation of any show of strength.”

“Is that necessary?”

“It’s a fundamental principle among dragons — the key moment to establish hierarchy.”

“Even if one isn’t interested?”

“Always remember who you will be consort to.”

The consort of Valdrova.

Upon hearing that, Perda mentally repeated it without thinking.

Luri walked one step behind, following him.

As they moved along the red carpet, Perda wondered.

‘If I become the consort of Queen Valdrova, what will my rank be?’

The world of nobility was complicated.

In the capital, hierarchy depended on official positions.

In the outer regions, however, the sword carried more weight than law, and prestige was measured by years of service.

‘Being the consort officially equals being a king, but that won’t be enough.’

He was eighteen years old.

To everyone, he was far too young and inexperienced.

For a fiancé to suddenly appear and act like a king would only provoke resistance from the lords.

Thus, while walking, he reached the entrance of the hall.

Inside were fifteen seats arranged in a circle.

The one directly aligned with the entrance was empty — Valdrova’s seat.

That is to say, his seat.

Instead of heading there, Perda remained standing in the center and raised his gaze to meet theirs one by one.

“Tell me. I will soon be the consort of Queen Valdrova.”

It was a genuine question.

“Should I address you with respect or with condescension?”

As he looked them in the eye, he was trying to measure where his place should be.

They all observed him tensely, and no one answered.

Perda scratched his head.

“Was my question really that hard?”

“N-no, not at all…”

“It’s just that…”

The reason was simple — if they answered that he should treat them with either respect or condescension, they would be drawing a line of hierarchy right then and there.

No one expected that this boy arriving as a fiancé would immediately try to impose “order.”

The oldest broke the silence.

“We are lords under the light of Queen Valdrova. It would be proper for you to treat us with respect.”

“Is that so?”

“But all present here have been loyal to the realm and have protected our people. It would be fair for the consort to return that consideration.”

It sounded like a reasonable answer, but in truth, it was an evasion, “according to what you decide.”

Perda looked at him and asked.

“What is your name?”

“Ulbera Concilus.”

“I see, Count Concilus? May I call you that?”

“Yes.”

The old man gave a pleased smile.

“Then.”

“Yes?”

“Should I treat you with respect or with condescension? You didn’t actually answer my question.”

Perda narrowed his eyes at him.

The elder, uncomfortable, replied.

“The proper way would be to treat us with condescension.”

“I see. Then the answer is clear. If I had started by treating you with respect, that would’ve been a problem for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes… said like that, it couldn’t be better.”

It was his first political experience, but he understood what had just happened — he had asserted himself over them.

‘It wasn’t my intention to overpower them…’

He wanted to clarify and added.

“Don’t worry. Becoming consort won’t change things too much. I’m not interested in what you do; rule however you see fit — exploit or be generous, it’s your business.”

“Exploit, you say? How can you speak like that?”

A young man, around his early twenties, stood up with a furrowed brow.

His presence was fierce, and on his chest he wore the insignia of a mage.

Perda understood immediately.

‘That was a slip.’

“I meant no harm. I just spoke carelessly.”

“But you seem to brag too much about being the queen’s fiancé. You should show more respect, boy. If we faced each other as mages, you’d have to bow to me.”

“W-what…?!”

“How can you speak like that?!”

The older, plumper lords were sweating buckets, trying to calm him down.

It was like watching a spark light a fuse right before their eyes.

“Hmm…”

Perda wasn’t angry at his insolence.

He just wondered.

‘Could I defeat this man?’

Now that he had awakened as a mage, he could see the flow of mana.

And the mana that man — Tesalos — contained wasn’t insignificant.

Tapping his temple with his index finger, he asked.

“What’s your name?”

“Tesalos of House Wolcher!”

Perda repeated the name to himself.

Tesalos Wolcher… it rang a bell, but that wasn’t important now.

“And what circle have you reached?”

“The fourth. I’m a 4th-level mage.”

“Hmm. Nothing special.”

“…Nothing special?”

Tesalos was stunned.

A 4th-circle mage was already considered someone of great renown anywhere.

‘Consort or not, I’ll kill him right here.’

The fire of rage boiled in his blood.

If not for the title of queen’s fiancé, he would’ve already insulted him and cast a spell.

“I’m interested in what you said. May I ask you for something?”

“After showing me such insolence, you still have requests?!”

His face turned red, but Perda nodded calmly.

“I’m sure you’ll like it. Fight me.”

He had practiced enough.

Now was the time to test himself in real combat.