Chapter 1: Prince Joachim’s Moment of Madness
“Luise, I am breaking off my engagement with you!”
The voice boomed across the ballroom where students were enjoying the dance.
Muriel was stunned. Wait, isn’t that the voice of His Highness Prince Joachim? Muriel slid smoothly along the wall, drawing closer to the source of the commotion.
“Luise! Infuriated that my love has shifted to Annalena, you have subjected her to countless acts of cruelty!”
Muriel reached a spot with a clear view. Just as she thought—it was indeed Prince Joachim. He was publicly denouncing his fiancée, Lady Luise, the daughter of a Duke. Clinging tightly to the Prince was a girl who looked the very definition of “cute.”
“And what exactly do you mean by ‘cruelty’?”
Luise asked, her voice calm and composed.
“You humiliated Annalena in public, mocking her lack of etiquette!”
“I merely cautioned her that one must not abruptly address those of higher rank.”
“There is no class system within this academy!”
“That is a mere formality, Your Highness.”
What is this farce?
Muriel couldn’t understand. Why were they having such a ridiculous argument in front of such a massive crowd? This was the kind of thing they should just discuss among the three of them.
And why is nobody stopping this?
Muriel carefully observed the group surrounding Prince Joachim. I see. That girl, Annalena, was radiating a foul aura. She’s a witch, isn’t she? And as for the aides who should be stopping the Prince... they were all just staring blankly at Annalena’s face.
Aha. The Prince has clearly lost his mind after being bewitched. And by the looks of it, his aides have fallen into the witch’s hands too.
Muriel hurriedly recited the Ten Commandments for Surviving the Royal Capital in her head—a set of rules her father had practically hammered into her brain.
“Rule: Obey your superiors. However, should their orders defy reason, this rule is void. It is the duty of a loyal subject to guide their superior back to the path of righteousness.”
Right, that’s the one. Prince Joachim had lost his mind thanks to that witch. A lover’s spat was not something that should be done in front of all these students. Once Muriel made up her mind, she sprang into action immediately.
She broke apart the glass beads of her bracelet, placed them in her palm, and flicked them with her fingertip with practiced ease. For Muriel, who had spent years hunting in the countryside, hitting a target as still as Joachim was child’s play.
A glass bead struck Joachim right in the temple, and he collapsed without a sound.
Good. Target neutralized.
Muriel instantly readied the next glass bead in her hand and took down the witch, Annalena.
Following Joachim, Annalena also fell, and the room erupted into chaos. Ignoring the confusion, Muriel left the venue with an innocent look on her face.
“Ugh, another day without catching myself a husband.”
Muriel patted her stomach, which was bulging from overeating, and walked home at a brisk pace. There was no such luxury as a carriage. It was a long trek on foot back to the house of the elderly couple who were looking after her.
Muriel Gonzala was fifteen years old, born and raised in a tiny, insignificant fiefdom far from the Royal Capital. Her father, Robert Gonzala, was the lord of the land and held the rank of Baron.
To put it bluntly, the fief was minuscule. The population topped out at maybe a thousand people—even at its peak, it was a cozy little place of just three hundred households. Everyone knew everyone; they were practically all one big family.
Industry? Nonexistent. It was a hand-to-mouth existence where they barely scraped by on farming and hunting.
“Listen, Miri. In the Capital, everyone wears shoes.”
“Even in the summer?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds awfully hot.”
In their village, everyone went barefoot except in winter. Why? Because shoes were a waste. Shoes were precious items to be worn only on the most special of occasions.
“In the Capital, all women wear skirts.”
“But you wear trousers when you go hunting, right?”
“I don’t think the women in the Capital do much hunting.”
“Then how do they eat?”
“They buy it.”
“Buy it?”
“The shops sell meat, vegetables, and even bread.”
“So, you mean traveling merchants come every single day?”
“No. There are actual shops.”
“Hmm.”
In Muriel’s territory, if you could make it, you made it yourself and bartered with others. Hardly anyone paid with actual money. Money was a precious commodity, tucked away only for the time when taxes were due.
For things that couldn’t be made in the territory, like shoes or fabric, they had to wait for a traveling merchant to arrive. On those occasions, they would sell their own goods—cheese, yarn, hides from hunted beasts, and vegetables. That was how they earned their precious, hard-earned cash.
There was only one shop in the entire territory. It handled items that couldn’t be obtained through bartering, such as medicine, weapons, and books—things an individual couldn’t easily trade for—and sold them at high prices. Since it was such a vital establishment, it was run by the Baron’s younger brother.
Whenever the uncle went to restock his shop, he would also take letters to the neighboring territory’s post office and pick up any mail waiting for them there.
So, there are lots of places like Uncle’s shop in the Capital? Muriel couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.
“Everything in the Capital costs money. You have to buy every little thing. First of all, this is your rent.”
“Eek!”
Muriel let out a yelp as her father piled a heap of silver coins right in front of her.
“This is for your living expenses.”
“Hiee!”
“This is for your tuition.”
“Gyaaah!”
“And this is for your travel costs.”
“Hieeeeeee!”
A literal mountain of silver coins now towered in front of Muriel.
“You understand what this means, don’t you?”
“I do.”
Her father fixed Muriel with a stern, piercing gaze.
“No matter what it takes, snag yourself a man with money.”
“Yes, Father!”
Muriel answered with deadly seriousness.
“Money is important, but skills are even more vital. Recite this every morning and every night: I will catch a healthy husband with knowledge in medicine, law, surveying, or civil engineering. And the bigger the dowry he brings, the better.”
Muriel recoiled. The requirements were far more grueling than she had ever imagined.
“No, no, no—wait a minute, Father. Let’s look at reality for a second. Look at me, with your eyes wide open! I’m plain-faced, I’m flat as a board, and I have zero sex appeal. Do you honestly think I can snag a high-spec man like that?”
“I do not.”
“I knew it!”
“But you’re going to make it happen anyway.”
“That’s impossible!”
Her father wouldn’t budge an inch.
“I plan to buy a plow horse with your husband’s dowry. That will boost next year’s harvest, and fewer of our people will go hungry.”
“Eeeh...”
“This year’s tax revenue vanished into the flood control project. If we can repair the town walls with your husband’s dowry, we can keep the monsters out. You’ll be saving the lives of our people.”
“Ugh...”
“And if your husband is well-versed in medicine, fewer of our people will suffer from illness.”
“I mean, I guess...”
“Your older sister, Marina, snagged an excellent tax accountant. Thanks to him, my paperwork has been slashed in half.”
“That’s because Marina is a beauty! She has that... natural charm! It’s impossible for me!”
Then, her father played his trump card.
“Listen. The village elders are going to put you through a special training program. They’re even going to share their secret family recipes for health and beauty that have been passed down for generations. Use whatever effort it takes—just bring back a healthy man with skills and money.”
Is that something a parent should say?! Muriel protested desperately, but her father remained as stubborn as a mule.
