Chapter 1665: Chapter 1665

"A reason? No, you have every reason to swear an oath."

The carriage trundled through the Nolan mist, the rhythmic clatter of its wheels on the cobblestones breathing a little life into the quiet night. Inside the carriage, the conversation continued, King Salsi II's expression growing solemn as he spoke.

"If you are willing to give me your oath, then I shall give you mine. I will not interfere in any way with your freedom to marry Dolores, and I will tell you what your Queen Isabella is truly plotting. If I do not tell you, you will never guess on your own."

Jenkins furrowed his brow. Neither Dolores's intelligence network nor the information Miss Windsor had gathered from within the kingdom indicated that Queen Isabella was doing anything out of the ordinary. She was behaving perfectly normally, busying herself daily with the kingdom's affairs and receiving nobles who had traveled to Nolan from all over the world.

"I know you to be a man of high moral character, someone who would go to great lengths to fulfill the last wishes of a dying friend. You are a man who honors his commitments, and I trust that once you've sworn an oath, you will abide by it. Therefore, my offer tonight stands until the day I die. If you change your mind, you can come to me at any time. You can use Dolores as an excuse to see me."

The view outside revealed that they were approaching St. George Avenue; Jenkins was almost home. Seeing that Jenkins was still lost in thought, King Salsi II offered this suggestion, adding a final reminder.

"Of course, it would be best if you were quick about it. I cannot guarantee when your queen might do something... unexpected."

His words were laden with implication, but it seemed he had no intention of elaborating further.

The man before him was a king, but he was still just an ordinary person. If Jenkins wished, he could make him spill the truth right now, and the king would have no memory of the unpleasant experience. But Salsi II's terms were not particularly harsh, and Jenkins himself had no interest in the territory of other nations. For now, he had no desire to use the power of his lies.

"I will go home and think it over. I'll give you an answer as soon as possible."

But in the end, he didn't give his answer in the carriage. There was something odd about the situation, and Jenkins wanted to consider it more carefully and discuss it with Alexia. An individual's wisdom had its limits, after all, and Jenkins didn't consider himself a particularly clever man.

He just happened to possess a certain amount of it.

Salsi II's sudden request for a private meeting had been completely unexpected. Jenkins was honest with Dolores, telling her truthfully that he had no interest in the lands of the Hamparvo Kingdom. In fact, if possible, he would even want to pass the throne of the Fidektri Kingdom to her someday. Jenkins dreaded such troublesome matters.

Although the future he had observed seemed to show the Fidektri Kingdom swallowing all surrounding lands to become a unified empire, if Jenkins gave the imperial throne to the girl from the House of Stuart, it would be as if the Hamparvo Kingdom continued to exist, and exist quite well at that.

When he voiced his thoughts, Dolores's face flushed with a deep blush. Alexia, however, thought Jenkins should accept Salsi II's proposal.

"But don't just find out what Queen Isabella wants. You should propose that Salsi II use the power of the Hamparvo Kingdom to help you claim the throne."

Alexia believed Dolores's father would likely agree.

Jenkins, of course, also told Hathaway and Briny about the matter. The two young women didn't seem to care at all. In the end, Jenkins would be the one controlling both kingdoms anyway, so they were indifferent as to whether the kingdoms merged or who became the monarch in name.

"But Father might care a great deal," Briny murmured.

It was Marquis Mikhail's two choices that had led their relationship to its current state. Of course, Briny was more than satisfied with how things had turned out.

"I'll speak with the Marquis. You don't need to worry about that. Besides, it's hard to say what the future holds. Plans rarely survive contact with reality. You just have to trust my arrangements."

Jenkins consoled them, confident he could find a resolution everyone could accept. It wouldn't be difficult.

The three of them were sitting on the sofa talking, while Julia was in the kitchen, apparently preparing a late-night snack for Chocolate.

"It's getting late. You should go rest. Don't you have exams at school tomorrow?"

He stood up and gestured to the cat, which was perched on the back of the sofa, staring longingly toward the kitchen. He was ready to head to bed himself.

"As for the matter of the throne, don't worry. I'll handle it. All you need to do is wait—wait for the day I can marry you both... Speaking of which, isn't my birthday in a few days? I was planning to invite Alexia and Dolores over to celebrate with me. It'll be a good chance for everyone to meet."

He proposed the idea. Meeting the two ladies from the northern kingdom was something they had planned for a while, so Hathaway and Briny both nodded in agreement.

"Good. After that, I'll take you all home—I mean, to the house on Maidenhaven Road. Mary will be quite displeased, I imagine. I don't think she's prepared to host so many people at once."

He said with a yawn, already thinking about when he should go see Salsi II tomorrow. But before he could grab the cat, who was stubbornly waiting for its snack, Hathaway stopped him.

"There's something I have to say."

She glanced at Briny, who hadn't yet realized what Hathaway was about to bring up.

"Even though we're all living in your house now, and our relationship is... well, could you please show a little restraint?"

Her voice was soft, but her eyes were fixed on Briny with a stern look. The meaning dawned on Briny instantly, and her cheeks turned a visible shade of red.

"It's been a week since we moved in, and I haven't gone to see Jenkins once. But you?"

Hathaway was blushing too, though it wasn't as obvious. But Jenkins, who knew her so well, could see that the tips of her ears were even redder than Briny's face.

"I know our situation is strange, but some things need to be settled."

The red-haired girl spoke in a very gentle tone. Thɪs chapter is updated by novel{f}ire.net

Hathaway had always been the more submissive one in her relationship with Briny, even after Briny learned the truth about everything. But this time, Hathaway was uncharacteristically assertive, and the blonde girl found it strangely thrilling.

"We aren't married yet. Even if we've moved in, we need to be mindful of certain things. I'm not against you two... it's just..."

Finally, Hathaway's own face turned crimson, and she couldn't continue. But Briny understood, and she let out a soft "Mmm" in response.

Hathaway then turned to Jenkins. Just as she expected, he was looking down, pretending to inspect the cat's belly, refusing to let her see his expression. His reaction was exactly what she'd predicted.

"I'm coming to your room tonight," Hathaway declared to Jenkins.

Then, ignoring the expressions of the two people behind her and whatever Julia might think from the kitchen, she turned and walked towards the staircase.

Only Briny's soft complaint could be heard in her wake.

The next day was Tuesday, just one day before the Tri-King Summit. Considering that the three monarchs would surely reach some agreements during the summit, Jenkins planned to give Salsi II his answer today and find out just what Queen Isabella was up to.

He had breakfast with the young women at home and then set out. The place where Salsi II was staying was a long way from St. George Avenue near the Docklands, so he opted to take a carriage.

St. George Avenue was a residential street, and carriages weren't allowed to park within the neighborhood, but there were usually empty carriages waiting for fares at the main intersections. As he stepped out, he first exchanged a greeting with his neighbor, Mr. Goodman, who was heading to work. The man's response was a bit reserved.

Then, Jenkins lifted his head and saw a carriage parked at the crossroads in the distance. As he walked briskly toward it, he noticed something strange about the driver. A coachman relaxing with a hat on and a newspaper open was perfectly normal, but this man's bearing suggested a military background.

Jenkins reached up to touch the cat on his shoulder, his pace slowing.

"Mr. Williamette, my master is waiting for you."

Hearing Jenkins's steps falter, the driver lowered his newspaper and spoke. He had a plain, unremarkable face and looked otherwise ordinary, but his accent was quite odd—the stiff, strange cadence of a foreigner speaking the Fidektri tongue.

"Your master?" Jenkins asked quizzically, tilting his head toward the carriage.

Inside was another ordinary-looking man, but there was a faint yellow glow at his heart. He was either wearing a protective item made by an Enchanter or he was cursed.

"Who is your master?" he asked, stopping in his tracks.

The driver didn't answer. Instead, the carriage door opened a crack. Through the gap, Jenkins saw the southern king he had only met a handful of times, Tackwen the Proud.

"Why do kings have such a penchant for waiting for people ?"

He thought to himself, then nodded and stepped into the carriage. Jenkins had no entanglement whatsoever with the princesses of the southern kingdom, so he felt no apprehension as he boarded.

"Good day, Your Majesty."

"Good day, Viscount Williamette."

As he sat down, Jenkins exchanged greetings while studying the other man's face. Tackwen the Proud was the youngest of the three kings, not even forty years old yet. About two decades ago, the previous southern king had been assassinated in a scandal, and a seventeen-year-old Tackwen had hastily ascended the throne, an event that sowed the seeds for the gradual erosion of royal power.

He was a refined-looking man, sharp and resolute, with a tall, slender build, dressed in simple summer clothes. But at this moment, the king's face was pale, and beads of sweat trickled down his temple. He looked to be in even worse shape than the dying Salsi II.