If You Win, Your Prize Is The Princess

Chapter 7

“And that’s how I met my master,” Sylia said.

“Well, that was something…” Kranz said.

He seemed surprised by the content of the story. He seemed to know to some extent that Sylia had lived a hard life, but it seems that she had been going through grave trials from the start.

“Since you call her your master, did this woman teach you your swordplay?” Kranz asked.

“That’s right,” Sylia replied. “But it was only for 2 years until I was 10 years old.”

“2 years?” Kranz asked. “Then, that means–”

He was concerned. There were no humans with such first-class skill in swordplay and magic casting. If you go to a large country you may find them, but it’s worrying that that woman was in the frontier land that Sylia came from.

In short, there were so many questions Kranz wanted to ask, but the carriage driver didn’t care and began to slow down.

“We have arrived at the royal castle,” the driver said as he opens the curtain behind him.

“Ah, Lady Sylia,” Kranz said, “when you find free time again, can you tell me the story of what happened after that?”

Sylia looked at him with a slightly embarrassed face, it felt like she’d cut him off right as the story was about to get good.

“Well, if I have time, then,” she said.

Sylia intended to leave the country in a few nights, after claiming her prize. So she thought that Kranz’s request would go unfulfilled.

And in the span of a few hours, she realized just how wrong she was to think that.

Despite this country being a small state, it was much larger and richer than Sylia’s hometown. The luxuriousness of the royal castle is proof that the city around it was thriving, the prosperity of the city around ensured the royal castle’s opulence, it was a symbiotic relationship.

“Amazing,” Sylia said.

The lavishly decorated front doors open and Sylia enters the castle. Kranz seemed to need to bid her farewell as soon as they disembarked the carriage, and now Sylia was being guided by the castle servants. Obviously, Sylia’s signature giant sword was confiscated. She was worried about having it away from her, but she’s not so immature that she didn’t understand the hosting party’s worrying if she came in armed.

“The king is waiting for you on his throne,” the servant said.

They went up the stairs of the castle, deeper towards the back, up another flight of stairs, then even further into the back of the castle. Finally, Sylia found a luxuriously decorated set of doors standing before her.

“Are there any specific manners when dealing with the royalty of this country?” Sylia asks the servant following her.

They laugh quietly.

“I believe your manners can be the same as when you’re with the general public,” they reply. “Besides, the king is a generous man unless you’re exceptionally rude, so please, relax your shoulders.”

“I, I see,” Sylia said.

She wasn’t nervous about entering these places because of her status as a commoner. A long time ago, when Sylia was invited to a feast after putting an excellent showing in a fighting tournament of a different country, she was too embarrassed to come back after realizing the stark difference in manners between her and everyone else around her. Such places brought a surprisingly lady-like embarrassment to her.

That’s why Sylia was a bit worried, but it seems she wouldn’t need to hone her manners after all. She put her arms around her stomach and stood in front of the doors as she usually would.

Then, the servant pounded on them.

“I have brought the winner of the latest tournament!”

The doors slowly open from the inside. A red carpet is laid straight from them to the throne and little by little, Sylia can see large vases with beautiful flowers lined up at regular intervals till the edge of the room.

And she was supposed to walk up that path.

“Please, do proceed,” the servant said.

“Ye-Yes.”

Sylia had been frozen, stunned, she recovered after the servant called out to her, she replied with a higher voice than usual.

When she came before who appeared to be the king, she bowed.

“I offer you my congratulations first,” he said. “I did not see the Lady’s battle myself, but just listening to the accounts speaks of your considerable skill.”

“Is, is that so, thanks,” Sylia said.

Her first impression of the king was that he was a strict, no-nonsense man. His beard was trimmed and his red hair wound and swept backward. A serious expression on his face. A muscular and lean body that you could see at a simple glance.

With just one look, Sylia could tell he was the owner of this castle.

“Kranz, one of the strongest soldiers in my castle… the man who escorted the Lady here, yet honestly, I’m still surprised you beat him.”

Sylia didn’t know if that surprise was because of her ability or because her appearance was like a little girl, but she didn’t feel bad about being praised like this.

“Now then, I have plenty I wish to ask you, but… let us begin with your name, first,” the king said.

And as he said that, Syria’s good mood was gone. In the first place, it was standard etiquette to give your name. Now that she thinks about it, it’s rude, she was so nervous that she bowed her head.

“I, I’m sorry,” she said. “My name is Sylia.”

“Is Sylia a given name or a family name…?” the king asked.

“… No, I don’t know my family name,” Sylia replied.

“You don’t know?” the king asked.

“By the time I was old enough to know, I was alone and no one knew of my parents,” Sylia replied. “That’s why the orphanage I was raised in named me Sylia.”

“You’re from an orphanage?” the king replied. “I see, little wonder then that the Lady is a traveler.”

The king did not have pity nor contempt in his voice. It seems that he’s just confirming a simple fact. Sylia thought that was rare; most of the time, orphans were ridiculed or pitied.

“I am Dien Gried,” 1 the king said. “I don’t need to say it out loud, but I am the king of this country. I thank you for your exemplary showing.”

“I, I see…” Sylia muttered.

Dien bowed as he spoke. This was too surprising for Sylia. Aristocrats and royalty are generally convinced that they are above travelers and thus act high and mighty towards them.

Because of that, Sylia could only give a nervous reply and bow her head awkwardly in a similar manner.

“Now then, we still have much to discuss, but we’ve lost enough time already,” Dien said. “Let us bring everyone here first.”

“Bring everyone here…?” Sylia asked.

Dien turns to the servant standing at the entrance. Then, perhaps because it was discussed in advance, the servant put his hand on the door and opened it.

A man walked in soon after.

He looked young. His red hair, which he seemed to have inherited from his parents, is neatly groomed into a short style, and even just standing still his eyes look beautiful. He stops at an angle from King Dien then bows gracefully. Sylia snaps back to the present.

“This is my son, Kaehn Gried,”2Dien said.

“How do you do?” Kaehn said. “My name is Kaehn. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He’s cheerful and pleasant with a perfect voice and choice of words. As he gives his greeting, he approaches Sylia and asks for a handshake.

“Ah, it’s Sylia,” she replied. “Um, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

She was surprised. They were at the highest level a human could be in this country. The other party is a mercenary with no allegiance to any state but they’re acting formally towards her. Actually, it feels a little too formal.

“Now then, my other child,” Dien said.

Another person slowly walked through the still open doors.

“………”

Sylia was taken by her appearance.

Brilliant blonde hair that stretched down to her waist. A white dress that was simple but looked expensive and elegant, with a beautiful but unrefined appearance that had a distinct air of childishness.

She was a little shorter than the 15-year-old Sylia. Such a girl passed by her and stood next to Kaehn.

“Luna Gried,” Dien said. “My daughter.”

“My name is Luna…” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Her voice rang out clear like water from a fountain, and when it floated into Sylia’s ears, it sounded like it echoed several times in her mind.

“I-It’s a pleasure, to meet you, as well…” Sylia stammered.

Today would be recorded as the day Sylia had experienced the most surprises in her life. Was it really okay for someone so low on the end of the social status spectrum as Sylia to have royals bow so reverently towards her?

(Would it be better if I bow to the ground?) Sylia thought.

The prize money for her victory was already out of her mind. The relationships between humans are said to be a mirror. With courtesy and respect, the other person also displays humility, and with arrogance and domineering, the other person reflects your haughtiness. But Sylia has shown no courtesy more than just bowing, so far.

Should she throw herself to the ground as she considered earlier? As she was busy sorting out her mind and recent events, the king opened his mouth.

And then he said something terrifying.

“Without further ado, Luna will become the Lady’s wife.”

“……… Hah?” Sylia asked.

Manners would not help her here.