side. Duke Ramslett

My daughter’s engagement to the Crown Prince was born from a proposal by the royal family. It was a move designed to cement the bond between the crown and House Ramslett—the owners of the kingdom’s most fertile lands—especially in an era where every nation except the Westadale Kingdom to our west was either an open enemy or a potential threat.

The Est Empire to the east and the Zaus Kingdom to the south were constant irritants, perpetually stirring up trouble along our borders. Demonstrating the absolute solidarity between the royal family and the southern nobility was the most effective way to warn them off, both at home and abroad.

It was for that reason alone that I offered my daughter to the royal family.

While there never seemed to be much affection between her and the Crown Prince, they both appeared to understand their duties. They maintained a respectful, measured relationship, behaving as one would expect of a future King and the Mother of the Nation.

Everything changed when they enrolled in the Higher Academy.

According to reports, an illegitimate daughter of House Breyes named Amy had systematically ensnared several high-ranking heirs with promising futures. Even the third prince of the Westadale Kingdom, who was here on exchange, had apparently fallen under her spell.

When my subordinates first brought me the news, I couldn't wrap my head around it. I made them confirm the facts three times.

Naturally, I consulted with His Majesty the King. The royal family had no desire to annul the engagement, and I shared that sentiment. Since my daughter understood the weight of a political marriage and was handling the situation with maturity, we decided to simply watch and wait.

Most of the other family heads—those whose sons or future daughters-in-law were involved—shared the view that this was merely a phase. They assumed this "playing with fire" would burn itself out by graduation. Many of those heads had likely done the same in their own youth, and the overarching principle was that what happens in the academy stays in the academy.

It does no good to coddle children who are on the cusp of adulthood.

And so, we all stood together and waited.

In hindsight, that response might have been too cruel for a girl as earnest as my daughter. I don't know if the stress was the cause, but for the first time, she fell to second place in the term-end examinations. She hadn't lost to the Crown Prince, either; she had been bested by a commoner scholarship student.

I reflexively scolded her at the time, telling her to show more awareness of her future role as Queen. Her reaction was unexpected. Her eyes sparkled with a newfound resolve as she told me she understood what she had to do. I had expected her to be devastated, but seeing her grow into such a resilient young woman was a point of pride for me as a parent.

Later, I heard she had collaborated with His Highness on their summer research project and even managed to involve the very commoner who had beaten her in the exams. The resulting report was supposedly so brilliant it left experts in awe, and the Crown Prince’s reputation saw a significant boost because of it.

Perhaps that was my mistake. I saw that success and assumed I no longer needed to worry. Then came the Cultural Festival. My daughter was cast out of the Crown Prince’s social circle, and their relationship grew so cold they stopped speaking entirely.

Naturally, rumors of an annulment began to circulate.

When I questioned her about it, she looked at me with a frozen expression. "This is merely a political marriage," she said. "As long as I marry and provide heirs, nothing else matters." They were chilling words, hardly what you’d expect from a girl her age.

I was busy, and she was living in the dorms, so we rarely had the chance to sit down and talk properly. That was when I received her complaint regarding the son of Viscount Jukes. Apparently, he had attempted to assault her in connection with that bastard girl from House Breyes.

If that was true, it was a massive problem, academy rules or not.

I dispatched my men to the academy to verify the facts. I was just about to launch a formal protest against the royal family, House Breyes, and the Jukes family—identifying the culprit even without hard evidence—when the unthinkable happened.

My daughter, who was supposed to be attending the advancement party and returning the following day, burst into my private study in the middle of the night. She was pounding on my door with a violence I had never seen from her.

I didn't understand why the reports from the men I'd sent to the party hadn't reached me yet, but her state was so clearly frantic that I ushered her inside immediately.

At first, she was barely coherent.

As I slowly coaxed the story out of her, the truth emerged: the Crown Prince had declared their engagement annulled and then coerced her into a duel. I knew the full details would come to light soon enough, but knowing my daughter, I didn't doubt her for a second. She wasn't the type to recklessly pick a fight, but she was the type to rigidly obey hierarchy and social norms.

"I see. I’d heard he’d become a fool lately, but I didn't realize it had gone this far," I told her, trying to soothe her. "In this case, maintaining the engagement will be difficult."

Even as I tried to reassure her, she continued to ramble in a panic. It took a moment to digest everything she was saying because she was so distraught.

Apparently, in a sacred duel that should have been one-on-one, the Prince had committed the outrageous act of fielding five of the strongest fighters of their generation as his proxies. And then, my daughter’s lone proxy had defeated all five of them single-handedly.

I blinked. Wait, what?

"What did you say?!"

The moment my brain caught up, I found myself shouting.

"He took on all five of them at once and won?"

"Yes! He is a genius our country cannot afford to lose! Please, Father! I’ll do anything! Just help him! Please!"

I was stunned, but if that was the extent of the problem, it was manageable. There were a dozen ways to handle the fallout. I told her to calm down and had Sebas brew some tea.

"Ana, settle down."

"Ah..."

As I listened to the rest, I realized the proxy in question was that same commoner scholarship student. The more I heard, the more this boy sounded like someone plucked straight out of a fairy tale. It was clear my daughter owed him a great debt, and not just for this latest incident.

More importantly, if her story was true, the boy had incredible utility. It would be in my best interest to bring him under my wing while I still could.

With that in mind, I ordered Sebas to bring this "Allen" to me.

The next day, Sebas returned with Allen, who had apparently gone home to his parents' house. Looking at him, he seemed like an ordinary young man—innocent, unassuming, the kind of person you could find anywhere.

Looking at his face, I found it hard to believe the stories. However, my subordinates confirmed it; this young man had used some mysterious technique to utterly crush those five opponents in front of a massive crowd.

The witnesses had been from a rival faction, and my own men testified that they had been blocked from leaving the venue that night. It was clearly a staged farce, likely orchestrated by the Crown Prince or someone like Marcus.

To think the Prince would pick a fight with my Ducal House—his own political partners—for something so trivial.

At this point, there was no turning back.

I spent some time probing the boy during our meeting, and he proved to be fascinating. He wasn't intimidated by my presence or my status, yet he remained perfectly polite. He didn't volunteer a single unnecessary word.

It felt like I was talking to a well-bred noble's son. I couldn't imagine what kind of education a child would have to receive to turn out like this in the slums.

As we spoke further, he traced the logic of this schoolyard squabble all the way to its ultimate conclusion: the potential fall of the Royal Capital in a foreign war. He even reached the conclusion that the perfect solution for a statesman was his own execution—and he told me, without a hint of hesitation, that he had intended to offer his head for the sake of the kingdom.

Unbelievable.

He was a genius, just as my daughter said. While he lacked a certain breadth of perspective, such a staggering talent was far too precious to lose.

Having made up my mind, I declared myself Allen’s backer and promised to protect his mother as well.

After Allen left, I found my daughter in the observation room. Her eyes were swollen and red as my wife held her. It seemed she was overcome with shame for her own perceived failures.

I informed my family of my decision to provide Allen with the full support of House Ramslett, and then I wasted no time heading for the Royal Palace.