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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Yes, I Am the Northern Duke (2)
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I'd already confirmed the prestige of the empire's grand ducal house, the Kaltstein family, with my own eyes time and time again.
But the moment I set foot in the banquet hall, the raucous chatter inside died down as if someone had doused it with cold water. It hit me once more just how far above ordinary noble houses they stood.
The crowd parted to either side like the miracle of Moses.
A red carpet stretched out between them, and I strode down it slowly, arrogantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The only sound filling the sudden, unannounced silence of the hall was the sharp click of my military boots striking the marble floor.
'Damn it, if I trip, I'm done for.'
I was breaking out in a cold sweat inside, but on the surface, I kept a perfect poker face.
No, I even let a hint of boredom flicker in my eyes.
After all, I couldn't afford to look like an easy mark right now.
Then, as I casually turned my head, the first person to catch my eye was Valder Count, the Steel Shield guarding the northern frontier fortress.
The bear of a man, with his bandit-like beard, flinched at my gaze and bowed his head.
'That guy got drunk and mouthed off to my father last time and took a beating... Does he still have PTSD just looking at me?'
I gave him a slight nod of the chin.
That alone had Valder Count bending at a perfect ninety degrees, his face full of gratitude.
Next to him stood Gilt Marquis, who monopolized the north's mining rights.
His greasy face kept darting nervous glances my way. Looked like he had some skeletons in his closet regarding taxes.
Well, now that the north's master had changed, every decision of House Gilt fell under my authority.
He seemed worried I might demand more from the mining rights, iron ore supplies, or orichalcum deliveries.
Unlike with Valder Count, I didn't even glance his way as I passed.
Not that I meant to ignore him—it was just that his fawning smile always pissed me off on sight...
I caught a glimpse of Gilt Marquis's face draining of color.
Probably thought he was screwed since I acted like he didn't even register.
'No need to correct that. Anyway, the overall reaction's not bad.'
Everyone gathered here wore the guise of meek sheep celebrating the new lord of the north, but inside, they were all hyenas.
Show even a scrap of weakness, and they'd come ripping in.
They'd try to exploit me however they could.
But the figure I cut now wasn't the young heir they knew.
Black uniform, red cloak, and Winter Fang sheathed at my waist.
The crowning touch: a swordsman said to surpass even my father, the strongest in imperial history.
In short, the perfect embodiment of the north's ruler.
I continued straight ahead and ascended the tall dais at the far end of the hall.
One step, two steps.
I reached the highest seat, closest to the throne-like chair, and turned around.
Hundreds of eyes lay at my feet.
The height was dizzying, but I forced myself to speak calmly.
I laced my voice with a touch of aura to make it carry an edge of intimidation.
"I am Noxion von Kaltstein, the new lord of Kaltstein."
"...."
"...."
A brief silence.
I didn't say more.
Long-winded speeches were for the weak.
True strength proved itself through presence alone.
I swept my gaze over the hall once more before adding my final words.
"The north stands strong as ever. That is all."
Those words were the starting gun.
"Long live Duke Noxion!"
"For the glory of Kaltstein!"
Thunderous cheers and applause erupted.
I plopped down into the chair, letting the roar serve as background music.
The tension had my legs on the verge of buckling—good thing my timing held up.
With the official declaration done, the real celebration kicked off.
And as the star of the show, I got no break.
"Your Grace! Entrust this winter's supplies to our merchant guild!"
"Your Grace, my daughter is making her debutante this season..."
The north's key nobles lined up to schmooze me.
With a wine glass in one hand, I nodded vaguely as I half-listened.
"I'll consider it."
"Submit the documents to Seria later."
Even as I radiated annoyance, they hailed it as regal charisma.
Delusions didn't get more terminal than this.
'What a pain...'
The central nobles dispatched from the capital were a bit different, though.
Veterans of that other battlefield rife with politics and schemes, they probed me with sly questions.
"Word is the previous duke passed so suddenly... Is there trouble brewing in the north?"
The capital noble's signature snide tone.
I smirked and took a sip of wine.
"Who knows. Aside from the flies buzzing in front of me, it's perfectly peaceful."
"W-what do you—?!"
"Something wrong?"
The baron's face turned every shade of red and purple.
Giggles rippled from the surroundings.
The man opened and closed his mouth like he had more to say, then stormed off in a huff.
'Father's rhetoric lessons work like a charm.'
I showed minimal courtesy to the imperial envoys who approached next.
The unwritten rule was that the imperial family and the north didn't meddle in each other's affairs.
That's how I kept up the mechanical pleasantries amid the socializing.
"...?"
At some point, the banquet hall's atmosphere shifted oddly.
Murmurs swelled, filling the space.
"What's that...?"
"No way, she came herself?"
"Without notice?"
"Notice or not, the imperial family and Kaltstein never..."
Gazes turned toward the entrance one by one.
Even the central noble I'd been talking to gaped blankly that way.
'...? What's going on?'
I furrowed my brow.
This was my party celebrating my ascension to duke.
I was the star today.
Curious who the tactless fool was trying to steal my spotlight, I started to turn—
The massive doors at the entrance swung wide open.
And a knight's voice boomed out loud enough to make one worry for his throat.
"The noble star of the Loen Empire, Second Imperial Princess Roselia de Loen, makes her entrance!"
The knight's cry had everyone in the hall—including me—staring at the entrance in stunned shock.
"The Second Princess...?"
"Why would imperial blood grace us in person...?"
Mutters rose from the nobles at my feet as they eyed each other.
"Wasn't there an non-aggression pact between the late emperor and the previous duke?"
"Right! The north and the imperial family swore never to set foot in each other's territories without just cause!"
"Does this mean the pact's already broken? Or is the imperial family moving to check the north...?"
Anxious speculations chained together.
Northern Kaltstein and central imperial Loen.
These two titanic powers had maintained peace for decades by thoroughly ignoring each other.
The imperial family left the north's mighty military alone; the north stayed out of imperial politics.
That fragile balance had kept the empire intact until now.
And today—of all days—that taboo was shattered.
On the day of my ducal investiture, no less.
'...What the hell is this?'
I tightened my grip on the wine glass, frowning slightly.
There'd been no report of a princess coming.
Even Seria, visible in the distance, looked flustered. This was a blatant surprise.
That's when it happened.
Through the open doors stepped a woman.
Lustrous golden hair, like threads spun from molten gold, gleamed blindingly under the chandeliers.
Her crimson gown—the empire's emblematic hue—contrasted starkly with her pale skin, exuding overwhelming presence.
Second Imperial Princess, Roselia de Loen.
Her famed beauty, known only by rumor, was utterly devastating.
'No wonder the imperial family kept her under wraps.'
But what drew my eye wasn't her looks.
'That gaze, though...'
The princess wasn't smiling.
Protocol demanded at least a forced social smile at such events.
Yet her blue eyes were frozen like thin ice.
As if the surrounding murmurs didn't exist.
Or like the buzzing of insects.
Her stare fixed solely on me, atop my throne, as she walked the red carpet.
Click, clack.
Lighter than my bootsteps, but sharper—her heels.
The nobles parted hastily, bowing their heads.
"We see Your Highness!"
"We see the empire's star!"
Fawning greetings burst out here and there, but she spared them no glance.
Her eyes were locked on me, obsessively.
'What? Why's she staring like that?'
A chill ran down my spine.
Like a debt collector come to call in a loan... No, more desperate, more venomous.
Of course, I kept my chin high, feigning utmost composure.
No reason to bow first just because she was a princess.
This was the north.
My turf, my home ground.
The only ones worthy of my bow in this world numbered three: my father, my mother, and the emperor.
'If you're here for a pissing contest, wrong address.'
I sank deep into the backrest and crossed my legs.
Looking down on her as she approached.
"...."
"...."
Our gazes clashed in midair.
If this were a comic, sparks would've flown.
One step, two steps.
With each closing stride, my heart pounded harder.
What did she want? A surprise message from the emperor? A declaration of hostilities against the north?
A whirlwind of scenarios flashed through my mind.
All the while, she ascended the stairs steadily until—
Only the length of a single sword separated us.
The entire hall held its breath, watching us.
The new lord of the north and the empire's princess.
Tension thickened—the sense that this encounter could unleash a storm on the empire.
The princess slowly parted her lips.
I leaned in, ready for her opening words, expecting elegant imperial decorum.
But.
Her whisper—so soft only I could hear—shattered all expectations with its lip movements.
"...Fuck, who the hell is this guy?"
"...?"
The utterly unforeseen profanity nearly cracked my composure.
What did I just hear? Fuck?
From a princess?
No, before that—Korean...? How?
For a split second, I wondered if I'd misread her lips and stared back into her eyes.
But Roselia's were still roiling wildly.
Shock, panic, and some inexplicable terror.
Her face had gone ghost-white, like she'd seen a phantom, as she stared down at me.
'No, hold on—Korean aside.'
Why the hell was she cursing me? What did I do? No, how does "fuck" even come out of a princess's mouth?
As I froze in confusion, speechless, she mouthed again.
This time silent, just the shapes of her lips.
'In the original story... there was no Noxion von Kaltstein.'
'Duke Kailus had no kids, I'm sure of it.'
'By rights, that seat should be empty a year from now, after the duke and duchess get offed by Loen's schemes, and the greedy collateral piglets tear into each other...'
'So why's some stranger sitting there?'
Her eyes shook like there was an earthquake.
And in that instant, seeing it all, I realized.
Ah.
This woman.
She's a possessor.