Chapter 3 - The Concerns of Ludovico, Count Nord (Part One)
That evening, Ludovico Foscar, Count Nord, was extremely nervous as he was summoned to the royal castle.
The Crown Prince's order to come to court was abrupt, and he had no idea why he was being called.
It would be a lie to say he had no secrets from the royal family, but those of the Foscar family were merely trivial secrets that every noble held.
Thinking about it that way made him even more uncertain of the reason for the summons, yet he could not fail to show up immediately when called by the Crown Prince.
Inside the carriage heading to the castle, Ludovico continued to nervously shift his obese body.
When the carriage bearing the family crest reached the drawbridge of the royal castle, the soldiers guarding the bridge opened the way without a word.
Normally, the interior would be inspected and the purpose of the visit would be asked in detail.
The polite attitude was instead eerie.
Even after being shown to a waiting room, his mind did not rest, and he continued to wipe away the sweat that kept coming despite it being an autumn evening.
The only reason he didn't pace around the room was due to the self-control and pride he managed to exert.
A guide appeared in the room and led him, but the destination was not the audience chamber used for official meetings.
It was a room used for private matters, more of a place for confidential talks.
While he agonized over not knowing the reason, the door was already before him.
Having come this far, Ludovico steeled himself for whatever might happen, cleared his throat once, and nodded to the guide.
"His Excellency Ludovico Foscar, Count Nord, has arrived at court by the summons of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince."
The guide raised his voice.
"Very well, enter," the Crown Prince's voice responded.
As he prepared to step through the door the guide opened, Ludovico froze.
He could not understand why his daughter was here.
"What are you standing there for? Enter, Count Nord."
The Crown Prince urged him magnanimously.
Drawn by that voice, he stepped into the room.
"I have come as summoned, Your Highness."
His voice might have been a bit high-pitched.
His daughter, Claudia, was sitting next to the Crown Prince, who was lounging on a sofa.
Although he was busy with land management and public duties and had left the household matters entirely to his wife, he had not been informed at all that things had become like this.
Why is this happening? Didn't His Highness have a fiancée? Questions raced through his mind.
"I am most grateful that you have taken notice of Claudia—my daughter. Has she committed any rudeness..."
"There is no rudeness; she listens well.
You have a good daughter, Count Nord."
To Ludovico, who was once again expressing his humility, the Crown Prince gestured to the seat opposite him, saying, "Well, sit down."
"If you'll excuse me," Ludovico said as he sat down, and tea was brought for everyone.
It was supposed to be of the highest quality, but Ludovico could not smell the aroma at all.
"Now then, Count Nord, it's about your daughter."
"Yes."
"I'll be blunt: I wish to take your daughter."
"—As a concubine, I presume? If that is the case—"
"Not a concubine."
The Crown Prince interrupted irritably.
"The Queen. To be precise, an engagement on the premise that she will become the Queen."
His mouth went dry and his tongue felt tied.
"Y-Your Highness, with all due respect, Your Highness's fiancée—the daughter of Marquess Mares..."
"That engagement," the Crown Prince spat out, averting his gaze in displeasure.
"Was annulled just a moment ago.
That girl is not fit to be the Queen—no, not even a noble of this country."
Feeling a cold sweat run down his back, Ludovico asked further.
"What did His Majesty say?"
"Have you forgotten? I am the Regent.
There is no need to trouble His Majesty, who is ill."
It was true that His Majesty was sickly, and he had heard that lately he could not even get out of bed.
And the Crown Prince, as Regent, was in a position to manage state affairs on behalf of His Majesty.
Even so, was it acceptable to decide such a major matter as choosing the future Queen without confirming His Majesty's will?
Moreover, the other party was the only daughter of Marquess Mares, one of the country's leading great nobles. Was that match not made with her influence in mind?
"Count Nord, what say you?"
Asked in an overbearing manner, Ludovico remembered that he had not yet answered the Crown Prince.
"As you wish, Your Highness.
Though she is an inexperienced daughter—"
As he responded, Ludovico was thinking about how he should make excuses to Marquess Mares.
The current head of that house had a reputation as a wise lord who was moderate and cared for the improvement of the people's lives.
Ludovico himself was not unacquainted with him, and they were by no means on bad terms.
In fact, he owed the man several favors; if it came to light that his daughter had snatched away the position of the Crown Prince's fiancée, with what face could he possibly meet him?
"Umu, I thank you, Count Nord."
The Crown Prince, nodding with satisfaction, turned his gaze to Claudia—the daughter of Count Nord—at his side.
"Now, Claudia, I can finally tell everyone that I am engaged to you."
"Oh, Prince Eirik, Claudia is so happy."
Ludovico was inwardly clutching his head, thinking how happy he could have been if he could have rejoiced at this sight without reservation.
He thought his daughter, Claudia, was a beautiful child, even setting aside a parent's bias.
Rich sunflower-colored hair, translucent white skin, and purple eyes that could be compared to jewels.
Although she was the child of his beautiful wife, Ludovico thanked God that she had grown into such a beauty that, frankly, he couldn't believe his own blood was in her.
But that was one thing; whether she was fit to be the Queen of this country was another.
Of course, both Ludovico and his wife had strived to educate her so that she would not be a disgrace anywhere.
Claudia had responded to that obediently, and thanks to those efforts, she had become a woman with more than average knowledge and refinement.
—But how would she fare after having seen that Marquess's daughter?
Poor Papa, who knows nothing.
By the way, although she doesn't look anything like him, they are properly related by blood.
Please rest assured.