View source for Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter4

=== Part 1 ===

Despite being recognised within the kingdom of Garbera as a prominent noble family, malicious whispers often referred to the Kotjun House as the “Moneylending House”. The reason for that was related to their origins.

Just three reigns ago, they were, so to speak, miners whose main occupation was to excavate dragonbone; and although they possessed some wealth, their standing was merely that of a powerful local clan. Their prosperity had improved dramatically after they had discovered and mined a dragonbone lode lying in Garbera’s northern mountains; they and had then immediately tied themselves in a commercial agreement with the Garberan king of three reigns ago, who had been zealous about carrying out the refining of dragonbone into weightless metal.

Although the relationship between the Kotjun House and the royal household remained favourable, they were kept at arm’s length. Later, when the previous king, Jeorg, had wished to strengthen the air force corps even further, he had thought to have them be directly employed as retainers to the king. The condition that they stipulated, at the time, was that the Kotjun House would obtain forty percent of the wealth derived from the dragonbone deposits that they themselves discovered and developed.

Jeorg Owell had agreed to it.

Garbera was a country which had originally been built by gathering together powerful regional families, however, many of these families had died out or been ruined during the conflicts in each area. It was said that the Kotjun House found amongst them a family with the same name and had bought their pedigree for a high price.

Therefore, although the Kotjun House was known by those within Garbera to have been miners in the past, they officially claimed that going even further back in history, they had been a powerful regional family of noble standing. 

They had amassed a greater fortune than anyone else in Garbera – possibly greater even than the king himself – and by lending that money to aristocrats and military commanders, they had accrued even more wealth and influence.

There were many, among those who were close to the king, who did not look kindly on their existence. Nevertheless, it was undoubtedly the presence of the Kotjun House that had allowed Jeorg, the previous king, to strike down the noble houses, which had been on the verge of seceding from the royal family, and to take back the lands which had been snatched away by Mephius and Ende.

Furthermore, it was a fact acknowledged by all, that it was thanks to the funds and dragonbone provided by the Kotjun House that Garbera currently boasted a powerful air force which allowed it to remain on equal footing with those two countries.

Rinoa Kotjun, a daughter of the Kotjun family, had just turned seventeen and, like generations of the heads of her house, she was known to love parties. She would come up with some pretext or another, then hold a grand party at their mansion in the capital, Phozon. It was said that Rinoa spent her days doing nothing but writing party invitations to leading aristocrats, military commanders, and merchants.

That evening as well, the mansion’s hall and gardens had been thrown open to host a banquet. Food and drink ordered from all over, rare and expensive items included, were liberally served; while in the hall and far above it, entertainers from both inside and outside of Garbera basked in applause as they demonstrated their first-rate skills.

Just now, a group of boys had played the flute while standing on their hands.

''Splendid'' – thought Zenon Owell, but his heart was unmoved. It was not that he was bad with glamorous surroundings, but a certain piece of news received a few days earlier had thrown that heart into gloom.

He was aware that he had been attracting attention since earlier. This was only the second time that he had attended a party given by the Kotjun family. At the centre of numerous gazes that were questioning what was going on, Zenon smiled faintly and wore an expression that said that he was enjoying himself from the bottom of his heart.

There seemed to be more merchants than nobles present at the party. One of the purposes of Rinoa’s parties was to summon traders from all over Garbera and exchange information. The Kotjun family was quite open about it. And because they were so upfront, they avoided having the image of secretly moving behind the scenes to make money.

They looked like merchants acting like merchants.

“Lord Zenon,” a voice called out from behind him. When he turned around, it was Rinoa Kotjun.

“Why, Miss Rinoa,” his smile deepened.

When invited to a party by the Kotjun family, the first thing that any guest worried about was how they should greet the daughter of the head of the house, Rinoa, when she stood before them.

The clothes she wore were of course gorgeous. Although its base was black, her dress was inlaid with bright colours that prevented it from looking too mature, or from becoming too overpoweringly dark. Violet velvet ribbons decorated her hair and jewels sparkled on two of her fingers.

''Well, it’s safest to praise her clothes and accessories'' – the malicious and sharp-tongued would say.

At Garbera’s royal court, Rinoa Kotjun’s name was all but synonymous for ‘a plain woman’. Those extolled as ‘beauties’ in Garbera had round cheeks brushed with rouge, large eyes, and blond hair. Therefore women typically applied makeup to make their eyes look big, but Rinoa had narrow upturned eyes and a thin face that seemed to taper to the point of her sharp chin.

As a matter of fact, her looks were not as bad as gossip claimed, but as she was a young lady who was far from typical, quite a few things were said, half out of familiarity, half out of jealousy, about her appearance and personality.

“It was good of you to come. Even though I wrote an invitation for you, Lord Zenon, I was quite resigned for it to be a waste of time again.”

Receiving a wine cup held out by the party sponsor herself, Zenon drained the contents in one gulp.

“You see, I realized that I had forgotten to express my gratitude.”

“Your gratitude?”

Zenon explained that when he had previously been stationed at Zaim, the Kotjun House’s engineering team had prepared a state-of-the-art ship for his Order of the Tiger.

“Oh yes, there was that, wasn’t there? But up until now you have frequently done us the honour of receiving such things, so why are you only acting differently this time?”

“Ah, that, I… was thinking that I have not been very obliging towards your House.”

“Lord Zenon, you are esteemed for your chivalrous spirit. The likes of the Moneylending House does not fit the Garbera of your ideals, is that not right?”

Rinoa said such a thing publicly. Zenon gave a sour look but strangely, when it was Rinoa saying it, he didn’t feel any sarcasm or mockery from the words. It was probably because both her expression and her tone were bright. There was not a single gloomy person in the Kotjun family.

“Speaking of acting differently, these days, you seem to be close to Sir Salzantes.”

“Oh, you have heard about that, Miss Rinoa?”

“Even if I have, there was no one more surprised than I was, as I had supposed the relationship between the two of you to be like oil and water.”

“It was not anything that extreme. You could simply say that we had a few misunderstandings up until now.”

At Rinoa’s invitation, Zenon headed towards a chair in a recess of the hall. In the nearby garden, young men and women could be seen dancing in a ring.

“In truth, I had thought that you would also have invited Noue.”

“I have never once sent that gentleman an invitation. Of course, if Your Highness were to say that you wanted him to accompany you, I would not refuse that request,” Rinoa spoke flatly, a smile still on her face. “Simply imagining drinking tea opposite that person whose thoughts I cannot guess makes me shiver. Is there a single enjoyable thing about associating with that gentleman?”

“You are quite unusual,” when facing this woman, Zenon had plenty of opportunities to smile wryly. “Noue is a favourite of the women at Court. Well, because of that he often also earns their antipathy.”

“Oh, in that sense I am fine. Since I am not beautiful enough to meet his standards, right?”

He couldn’t exactly answer “Right”.

Seeing Zenon struggle to keep a neutral expression, Rinoa laughed lightly.

“Be it with Sir Salzantes or with your doing us the honour of coming here, you have certainly changed, Your Highness.”

“Do you think so? Hmm, one’s own self is difficult to understand.”

Zenon pretended to use the palm of his hand as a mirror and to inspect his face from various angles. It was a smooth countermeasure but –

“If I were a gossipmonger, I might say that because you fell into a difficult position in Ende, you lost your chivalrous spirit and became a coward, Lord Zenon.” Rinoa said that with a smile too.
Zenon almost had an involuntary coughing fit.

“But this is just nonsense spoken by an upstart miner,” while deprecating herself, Rinoa would calmly talk on dangerous topics. For example, she afterwards changed the subject and commented on his older brother, Razetta, in other words, on the person who was first in line for the throne.

“That gentleman is so easy-going, and moreover he seems to have so much free time every day, that my heart warms at the sight of him.”

Prince Razetta served as the commander of the Knights of the Order of the White Heron, the elite guards to the royal family. It was an important role which doubled as guarding the royal capital, but Rinoa’s evaluation seemed to be that “He is neglecting his work.”

One of the reasons why Zenon was bad at handling Rinoa was because he felt exactly as though his own nature were being tested. The impression she gave was that she enjoyed pushing towards a confrontation.

“My brother is a serious person. Whatever the task, he will put all his energy into accomplishing it.”

“Yes, indeed. Lord Razetta can surely not be a bad person. For example... if he was at the party, after seeing I had dressed up like this, and so as not to wound my feelings, that gentleman would have, by this time, skilfully managed to think of a plausible compliment.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“We were talking about how Lord Razetta is a virtuous person. Were we not?”

The people in the hall were obliquely watching the conversation between the two. Despite knowing that, Rinoa deliberately and openly brought her lips near his ear.

“It seems like everyone here can’t help but be interested in you, Your Highness. Although that may also be because of the rumour about Lady Vileena.”

“That? It’s rubbish.”

Because he had guessed that the topic would come up, Zenon’s expression did not change.

The information had reached Garbera that Mephius had advanced its army to Taúlia. It was apparently in retaliation for them having assassinated the prince. While that was one thing, there was a rumour which the people of Gabera could not ignore.

Princess Vileena had warned Taúlia and since then, she was being kept under restriction within Mephius.

That news had only arrived three days earlier.

''If this is true'' – Noue had said when Zenon invited him to his chambers – ''Guhl is probably looking to see how Garbera will react by deliberately spreading the rumour, and at the same time he is stressing that it will not be his fault if something unfortunate were to happen to the princess.''

Of course, Zenon being Zenon, he was revolted by the way Emperor Guhl had used Prince Gil Mephius’ death as an excuse to invade Taúlia. He had no difficulty imagining that, just like him, his little sister had been fiercely angry; only she was impetuous enough to actually inform Taúlia and thwart a surprise attack.

''That’s my little sister, who cannot tell a lie.''

If he was still the same Zenon as before, he very well might have marched into Mephius, sword in hand, to take his sister back. No, even now he had the spirit to do so. But at the same time, he believed that– ''my little sister would not want Garbera and Mephius to cross swords.''

If she had carried information to Taúlia, it had been because her own principles could not stand for it, and she had no choice but to try and stop the war, even if it meant opposing her home country.

“Indeed, it is rubbish,” said Rinoa. “However, there are those who do not think so... like that gentleman over there.”

She pointed to a man who was standing more or less in the centre of the hall. Zenon turned his gaze that way and for a moment, a complicated expression seemed to cross his face.

Salamand Fogel, the vice-commander of the Knights of the Order of the Badger. A man with a truly fierce physique.

They had stood several times on the same battlefield. At twenty-eight, his age was virtually the same as Zenon’s. He was a daring and resolute man, whose character did not betray the impression given by his square and prominent jaw. There should have been no denying that they were comrade-in-arms, who had challenged death together, except that the man had been an ardent admirer of Ryucown’s.

When the royal family had been considering bringing the ten-year war to an end by marrying Vileena and Gil – or rather, when rumours of that fact had started to spread throughout Phozon – there had been many officers and soldiers who were unhappy with it. As a matter of fact, Zenon had been too; but as he was also a member of the royal family, and moreover knew the extent of their army’s exhaustion, he had finally agreed to his father’s decision.

At that time, after being wounded by the Mephian army, Salamand Fogel had been undergoing medical treatment at his home. Already feeling despondent because of that, and greatly dissatisfied with the royal family’s decision, he had gotten drunk one evening and sung an improvised song, the meaning of which was that “a true knight like Sir Ryucown deserves the throne of Garbera”. His companions having informed on him, he had even been thrown into jail for a while.

The commander of the Order of the Badger had desperately pleaded in his favour, and Salamand had been released, but in the meanwhile there had been Ryucown’s uprising and its suppression by Mephius’ army.

It was said that despite having only just regained his freedom, Salamand had wept bitterly, not caring that anyone saw him.

“I too wanted to remain true to knighthood with Sir Ryucown. Garbera’s chivalry has perished with him.”

Zenon remembered how he had fiercely ground his teeth when he had heard about those words. He himself strived to be a model of chivalry in all he said and did. Caught between his inability to forgive Ryucown for betraying his country, and his own attempts to live up to those chivalric ideals, Zenon’s heart had been shaken.

Rinoa continued to whisper, “without paying attention to anyone, that gentleman has been spreading the rumour that Lady Vileena’s actions are based on faith in Garbera. And that we should seize this opportunity to rescue the princess from that perfidious Mephius.”

Zenon felt that he could understand now why Rinoa had invited him here. And, just as he had imagined, she beckoned Salamand over so that the two could talk face to face.

“Prince Zenon, you displayed splendid abilities in the war with Ende.”

“No, that was nowhere near as flawless as the rumours have it.”

They shook hands.

In height and breadth, he was a warrior worthy of the name of the Order of the Badger. Even when you looked him straight in the eye, his gaze did not waver. Zenon was not such an expert at mindreading that he could tell what his opponent was planning just from seeing their expression.

''I should have brought Noue after all'' – that futile thought flitted through his brain.

Having come to this, it would be a problem if Ryucown’s admirers became active. If they provoked Mephius, Vileena might be placed in even greater danger than she already was. Which was why Zenon made a light jab.

“As for my having pushed Ende back, it is simply because Mephius sent reinforcements.”

Salamand scratched his square jaw thoughtfully. “Still, that Mephius. Nowadays, it is a country that acts completely contrary to justice.”

“Justice according to whom? Each country and each person has their own justice. You are of course a patriot and a fine knight; but for me, the ideals of chivalry and the needs of the country can differ. Sense of values can be different. You should not label someone as immoral simply because their way of thinking is different from your own.”

“Prince Zenon, are you saying that I am acting against my country?”

“Now look here. Labelling opponents and chasing them down, or having them chase you, is not the way to put ideals into practice. Why, you would be going around every day with a naked blade in hand.” Zenon said laughingly.

Although outwardly Salamand maintained a smile suitable for a banquet,

“Even then, I don’t think I would mind.”

“What are you saying?”

“For the sake of living up to my ideals, I would not mind it if, every day, I had to fight those who would stand in my way and dip my sword in their blood. Is what I was saying.”

''This man is relentless''. While also preserving the gentle smile that was characteristic of the royal family, Zenon cursed inwardly. Salamand was not a man who was all talk and no action either. Even if that was reassuring in an ally, there was currently nothing more worrisome as far as Zenon was concerned. He was wondering whether to break off the discussion for now but –

“Is it not the same for you, Lord Zenon?” Salamand protested. “Chivalry is not something that one explains to others but something that one embodies. Through constant questioning, exploring for answers, and daily struggles, I hope to succeed in personifying it. That you, Lord Zenon, the model of a knight within the royal family, do not agree with me is truly lamentable,” he declared.

In essence, he was picking a fight. What he was wanting to say was that – ''Garbera’s current royal family does not embody the ideals of chivalry.''

For a moment, Zenon looked straight at the other with a serious expression.

The people who had all around been enjoying the banquet and clasping their friends by the shoulders suddenly started to pay attention to the exchange between the two. They watched with bated breath – or it might perhaps better be said – they had found a different source of entertainment at the party.

Zenon himself was known as a general with a relentless personality. He took a step closer to the man who was openly disagreeing with him.

As they were wondering whether he was about to hit him, Zenon heartily clapped Salamand on the shoulder. A stir that was neither admiration nor disappointment went around.

“You’re like a seeker of truth, Salamand,” Zenon said cheerfully. “If every knight was as strict with themselves as you are, it would be a wonderful thing. However...”

“However?”

“There is also paying attention to what other people say. People become stunted if they bury themselves in nothing but their own way of thinking. I was like that as well. And because of that, I got backed into a corner in the battle against Ende. There is observing well those whom you feel you hate, or even those you consider to be enemies, as they might well be mirrors that reflect your own self.”

Salamand did not say anything but his eyes were clearly filled with disdain for Zenon. No doubt he was thinking that he was just lining up pretty words to temporarily smooth things over and run away from their joust.

Zenon was quick to see through the other’s emotions but, without saying anything more, he turned his back on him and returned to where Rinoa was.

“If you were the way you used to be, Lord Zenon,” she said as she presented him with a new wine cup, “there would have been trouble here by now.”

“It is just as you say. I have become a coward.”

“Indeed. That you, Lord Zenon, would end an argument by turning away from it and would call yourself a ‘coward’ is something I would not have said even in jest.”

Rinoa smiled even more brightly than before while he wondered if this was her way of criticizing him.

''Well there it is'' – she was an unfathomable girl, thought Zenon as he once again drained the contents of the cup. From early childhood, the daughter of the Kotjun House had been brought by her father to attend fierce business transactions.

Her expression then turned somewhat serious. “Do be careful. As a matter of fact, that man Salamand has only recently started showing up at the banquets given by the Kotjun family.”

“Oh?”

Thinking about it, just like Zenon in the past, a man who preached about honourable chivalry to that extent was not likely to have any kind feelings towards the Kotjun House. So that meant that he had only recently started drawing close to them.

''War funds… is it?''

Zenon’s expression hardened for a moment.

Seeing that, Rinoa put her wine cup down.

“Would you not grant me a dance?” she held out her hand.