"The winner is Simon Polentia!"
No applause followed, no cheers. A dead silence hung over the assembled nobles. This was the Dresden royal ball, held in the royal palace; they could not bring themselves to applaud Simon's victory. They could only steal startled glances his way.
"Your Highness!"
"A-Are you alright?"
The royalist nobles swarmed over to check on the fallen prince. Meanwhile, Lorraine and Serne approached Simon with light, graceful steps.
"Are you okay, Simon?" Lorraine asked, dusting off his ruined clothes.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You did wonderfully, Simon," Serne cooed, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "It seems your skills have truly come into their own, even without using 'that' power."
"'That' power?"
At Lorraine's question, Serne simply shrugged. "You don't need to know. It's a little secret shared only between me and Simon."
A bitter smile touched Simon's lips. Phrasing it like that would only fuel misunderstanding...
"Her Majesty, the Queen, is arriving."
The crowd suddenly parted. A woman in a resplendent dress appeared, her status as queen immediately apparent to all. She was a middle-aged woman with a somewhat plump figure and an impression of chilling coldness.
"We greet Her Majesty, the Queen!"
Everyone bowed. She walked forward and looked down at the fallen Andre. He had just regained consciousness, and upon seeing her, he began to tremble with fear.
"Pathetic thing."
Not a shred of affection could be felt in her icy words. "You're a sight for sore eyes. Get him out of here."
Black-clad knights approached and dragged Andre away by his arms. Lorraine watched the queen with a detached expression.
'This was all your scheme, wasn't it?'
Unlike the king, who was cooperative with Kizen, the queen was a leading figure in the anti-Kizen faction. Her greatest wish was for the kingdom to be forever free from Kizen's influence. The sudden interruption of the party, Andre's intrusion-it must have all been part of her plan. Of course, with Simon defeating Andre, it had all gone up in smoke.
Was it frustration at her ruined plan? The queen glared at Simon with terrifying eyes. Lorraine immediately stepped forward to intercept her gaze, while Serne began chatting with Simon, her eyes fixed on the queen. In the end, the queen turned her back and disappeared without another word.
After the duel, the ball resumed. Simon was escorted away for medical treatment. The royal physicians examined him and, fortunately, found nothing more than slight fatigue and anemia.
While Simon was being treated, a different scene was unfolding in the queen's private palace.
"To be humiliated like this at a ball!" the queen shrieked, mercilessly beating Andre with her heeled shoes. She was an ordinary person and Andre a necromancer, but he didn't dare even meet her eyes. In truth, Andre's cruel personality was a direct inheritance from his mother. When she lost her temper, she didn't care for flesh and blood. Aside from Princess Molly, whom the king doted on, not a single one of her children had escaped her beatings.
"Did you think I gave you this chance for this?!"
The queen had learned that Princess Molly had invited Simon's group and had decided to use the situation. She had approached Andre, who held a grudge against Simon, and told him to challenge the boy to a duel, promising to handle the aftermath. It was a perfect opportunity to humble Kizen, but Andre had absurdly lost to a first-year. The royal family had been disgraced, and Kizen's reputation had only been enhanced.
She stopped, panting with fury, her breath pluming in the air. Her shoes were covered in blood, as was Andre's face.
"The promise," she said, her voice dangerously low. "What was the promise you were to grant that child if you lost?"
The queen already knew the situation from the knights. Andre had drawn an 'R' on his chest and invoked the royal family's name, vowing to accept Simon's condition.
Andre, who had been silently enduring the violence, felt his lips tremble. A great fear and sense of utter ruin washed over his face.
"Speak the truth," she commanded, her eyes blazing.
Trembling as if he were about to die, Andre squeezed out the words. "The exclusive... rights to one of the kingdom's dungeons..."
Her expression turned to ice. At the same time, her foot slowly lowered. Andre knew what it meant when she stopped the violence and cried out, clinging to his last hope.
"Mother! I-!"
"You are no longer my son."
Andre's heart plummeted. The queen left the room, abandoning him as he stared blankly, his mouth agape.
'Foolish thing!'
Dungeons held immense potential value. There was no telling what resources or treasures they might contain, and now one of them had to be handed over to a clueless seventeen-year-old brat. The fate of the kingdom could very well hang on that boy's choice. She wanted to subtly threaten him into accepting a more appropriate reward, but Lorraine and Serne, both major players, were by his side. Threats were impossible.
'Still, he's just a clueless teenager. I'll have to propose a different reward tomorrow morning.'
"I refuse," Simon said from his bed.
The treasurer, who had arrived with the queen's new proposal, was taken aback by Simon's immediate refusal. He had been told the boy could be easily persuaded, but Simon hadn't even let him finish.
"S-Simon." The treasurer clasped his hands and forced a business smile. "Twice the commission fee is a staggering four thousand Gold! Four thousand! That's enough to buy several houses! Please, reconsider..."
"Ooh, an adult trying to rip off a kid," Serne sang from a nearby chair where she was trimming her nails. She had been staying in Simon's room since the night before. "If you sell the rights to a dungeon, you could make tens of thousands of gold, not just four thousand. Are you trying to swindle him for a mere two thousand just because you think kids don't know any better?"
'Please, just stay out of it...!'
The treasurer was boiling inside but kept his smile plastered on. "Haha! Her Majesty the Queen has specially offered to raise it to three times the amount. Not only that, but she will also personally bestow upon you a meritorious honor..."
"Mr. Treasurer." This time, a voice came from the other side of the room. A girl with ebony-black hair, dressed in pink pajamas, was lying on the sofa, swinging her legs. She momentarily looked up from her book. "Simon was challenged to an unfavorable duel, yet he fought with his life on the line and won. He is simply asking for the promised reward. Has the name of the royal family become so trivial?"
'This is driving me insane!'
Before Simon could say a word, the two girls were flanking him like lawyers. The carrot approach was failing. He needed to change his strategy.
"It's embarrassing to say this to guests from another country, but..." A moist sheen appeared in his eyes. "The truth is, the kingdom's finances are in a dire state. With the recent terrible drought in the granaries, Her Majesty has even been skipping meals to share in the suffering of her people..."
"Ah, but that's your problem," Serne cut in, snapping her hand mirror shut and crossing her legs elegantly. "What do you think you're doing? You made a promise in the name of the royal family, so you should keep it. Did you think you could get away with some half-baked excuse just because he's a student?"
"I-I'm speaking with Simon right now!" the treasurer stammered, sweating profusely as he looked at Simon.
Simon offered a gentle smile. "What Serne said is what I wanted to say."
'Ugh...!'
He had gotten tangled up with the wrong crowd. This was going to be a very difficult negotiation. He was beginning to resent Prince Andre for blurting out such a promise in front of so many people.
'And I can't just pull rank on them.'
His gaze flickered to Lorraine in her pink pajamas. If that girl so much as whispered a word to the Witch of Death, the entire kingdom could be obliterated. Rumor had it she had laid waste to Efnel's sky island; what was to stop her from doing the same to Langerstine?
"Don't worry too much," Simon said. "I'll choose a dungeon that won't be too much of a burden on the kingdom."
"S-Student Simon! Please, just reconsider one more time...!"
"Wait a minute. Then how about this?" Serne stretched out one leg and propped it on a chair. Then, she began to peel off her stocking.
The treasurer stared, dumbfounded by her sudden action. After removing one stocking, she crumpled it into a ball and walked over to him.
"Hold out your hand."
As if mesmerized, the treasurer extended his hand, and she placed the stocking in it.
"An additional clause. I'll give you this, on the condition that you hand over the dungeon as promised. How about it?"
The treasurer's eyes trembled with emotion. The suffocating tightness in his chest suddenly vanished, replaced by a refreshing clarity, as if a hopelessly tangled knot had been undone all at once. Was this how ancient scholars felt when they finally deciphered the secrets of runes after a century of study?
"I-I see! A stocking! A stocking! I never would have thought of such a brilliant move!"
"Then go report to Her Majesty the Queen."
"Yes! Yes, sir! I understand!"
"What are you talking about? W-Wait a minute!"
Before Simon could stop him, the treasurer bolted from the room at full speed. Lorraine shot Serne a look of utter disgust. "You have a truly awful personality."
"Hohoho!"
The treasurer sprinted through the palace, his mind consumed with a single thought: he had to deliver this wonderful news to the Queen.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" he cried, bursting into her room. She was in an emergency meeting with her officials, but seeing his beaming face, she shot to her feet.
"Your expression is good! Have you reached an agreement with those brats?"
"Yes, I've done it!" The treasurer proudly held up the stocking. It dangled from his hand, a run already starting near the toe. "A stocking! It's a stocking! We've added a condition to the contract that we receive this stocking!"
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"Isn't it amazing! I thought that at this price, the dungeon would be well worth it!"
The officials stared at the treasurer as if he were a madman. The queen, and even the maids cleaning the room, looked at him with undisguised contempt.
"Drag that man out immediately and beat him with a club until he comes to his senses."
"P-Pardon?"
Officials seized the treasurer's arms and dragged him from the room.
"Y-Your Majesty! I've been wronged! Please, just look at this! It's a stocking!"
He was still babbling about the stocking as he was hauled away. A single, distinct feather was stuck to the back of his neck.

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