Negotiation
Chrisford’s Point of View
“Hey, Chrisford, why do you think we got summoned to the royal palace?”
“Wouldn’t you know, Rainhall?”
“I can guess, but I’m not sure. Even if my father’s the Chancellor, a man in that position doesn’t tell his son about state affairs—it’d make people question his competence.”
“You have some idea yourself, don’t you, Chrisford?”
“It’s probably about my family… I’d bet on that.”
As they spoke, the Chancellor, Duke Clondale, and Uncle Davit entered the room.
“Sorry to call you here on such short notice,” the Chancellor began.
“There isn’t much time, so I’ll get straight to the point,” he continued. “We’d like to hear more about the exhibition being held in Westland. The qualifying round, I believe? I’ve heard that all the dishes were excellent—it’s become quite the topic in the capital. If it’s something that could be done here as well, we’d like to consider it.”
Just as I thought—it was about the exhibition.
So they’re thinking of holding one in the capital too.
If they see potential economic benefits, that would certainly make sense.
“The exhibition was planned as a way to find dishes that can only be eaten in the New Town, and crafts that can only be found there,” I explained. “It originally started as a local revitalization idea—wondering if there were any specialties in the villages we didn’t know about. Later, we expanded it beyond the villages to include all residents, both individuals and groups. The number of applicants exploded, so we had to hold qualifying rounds for some categories.”
“There must have been a trigger for all this,” the Chancellor said.
“Yes. It was washi—straw paper. We found it during a visit to one of the villages. It had been used there for generations, but they didn’t realize it had any real value.”
(Truthfully, the real reason was the rainbow fish scales… but best to keep that to myself.)
Encouraged to go on, I continued, “We were also developing a distinctive confectionery for the New Town, but we couldn’t produce enough of it. So we thought—why not hold an exhibition to find more ideas?”
“Do you know the detailed conditions or format of the exhibition?”
“We distributed bulletins throughout the territory, so perhaps you’ve seen them?”
“Alfrecht tells me you take after Davit quite a bit,” the Chancellor remarked with a faint smile.
(Father’s not fond of political maneuvering—must make him an easy partner for these men.)
“Princess Rinaluna, Davit, and I will be visiting the Westland Exhibition,” the Chancellor continued. “We’d like you two to accompany us—Rainhall as the Princess’s escort, and Chrisford, you’ll serve as our guide.”
“Please wait,” I said quickly. “Our household’s chefs are all working behind the scenes at the exhibition. For meals, only the Knights Order has their own provisions—everyone else eats either food prepared in advance or bought from the exhibition stalls. It will be difficult to host guests properly.”
“Alfrecht mentioned that as well,” said the Duke. “We don’t mind. We’ll simply eat the food being sold there—it’ll serve as a tasting opportunity.”
“It’s commoners’ cuisine,” I warned. “It might not suit your palates.”
“Chrisford,” the Chancellor asked mildly, “have you tasted it?”
“Yes. The ingredients are fresh, and the dishes are made with care. While they can’t compare to what we usually eat, they’re quite delicious.”
“Then that’s fine,” the Chancellor said. “We’re imposing by staying there as it is—we’re not expecting luxury.”
“Even so, for Princess Rinaluna…”
“It’s all right—Her Highness said she’d like to try the local food herself.”
“… Understood. But since it’ll be difficult to arrange meals on the spot, please let us know your numbers in advance.”
“Of course. Also, we’d like you to secure some portions for us to bring back to the capital. His Majesty wants to try them as well.”
“… All of them?”
“Yes, including the souvenir division. Everything, if possible.”
“I have one condition,” I said.
“Oh? What might that be?”
“Even if someone likes the exhibition items, they’re meant for the New Town. Please don’t ask us to patent or transfer them for national use. Westland’s creations are not for sale to the crown.”
“You’re rather direct, aren’t you?”
“I think our past contributions to the kingdom justify that much.”
“His Majesty isn’t asking for that, don’t worry. We’ll do our best to prevent imitation in other territories as well.”
Later, when I read Father’s letter, it mentioned that Hart’s friends, along with Isaac and Hubert, would also be visiting the exhibition. Because of that, I was to return with them for security reasons, and some arrangements with the Chancellor’s group had already been made.
When we arrived home and I opened the carriage door, Bianca and Ripka came darting out.
Startled, I hurried down and called Bianca’s name—only to see four Vendavals, two Fiammas, and both girls’ families waiting at the entrance.
And all of them were wearing colorful scarves and tie rings embroidered with our family crest.
I exchanged a baffled look with Gerald.
“They’ll be staying until the exhibition’s over,” Mother said cheerfully. “We’ve even got three Alraunes with us. Go take a nice soak in the hot spring before you do anything else.”
Our companions behind me looked utterly dumbfounded.
After the bath, Bianca started making a rare fuss—apparently upset that she hadn’t gotten a scarf or ornament yet, even though her family had.
Beside me, Gera was being pecked by Ripka, probably getting the same complaint.
There are way too many things I don’t know anymore.
Just how much chaos has Hardt been causing lately?
What do you think about this chapter?
