In the Reed Kingdom, three factions dominated.
First, the Noble faction, centered around the Wellrod and Windsor families. Despite the name, they weren't demanding a council led by Nobles. In this world, with no phones or emails, messages traveled by horseback. Waiting for word from the Royal Capital during emergencies would cause fatal delays. They argued that regional Nobles should have more power to act immediately.
Next was the Royalist faction, led by the Wilmente and Warwick families. They believed that if regional Noble power grew under the Noble faction's influence, the country might split. They argued the royal family's power should remain strong at the center.
Finally, the Neutral faction, a mix of various Nobles. Though called neutral, they were essentially conservative, content with maintaining the status quo: "Things are working fine; no need to favor either side."
The balance of power was roughly: Noble faction 3, Royalist 5, Neutral 2. The Royalists' numerical advantage came from Nobles without lands. The stronger the royal power, the stronger bureaucrats' influence. But without lands, these Nobles' real influence was limited. In terms of voice, the Noble and Royalist factions were roughly equal.
Randolph and Melinda's marriage had drawn attention, with many wondering if it would tip the balance. Despite having a child, nothing had changed yet, leaving many perplexed.
――――
Jerome Windsor, had been appointed Chancellor by King Elias. As a leading figure of the Noble faction, his position was not only about political balance. The Wellrod and Windsor families had historically been bureaucratic families. Jerome's own talent as a civil officer justified his appointment.
Now, that man stood before Isaac. Alongside his wife, Rosa, he spoke with Morgan and Margaret. Isaac could only greet and quietly listen.
It was Jerome's dignity that caused this.
Morgan and Margaret, Isaac's kind grandparents, seemed ordinary. Isaac had underestimated them, thinking, "Marquis family and yet...?" He only knew their gentle grandfatherly sides.
Jerome was different. Not Isaac's grandfather, he showed no soft attitude. Not cold, either—simply maintaining Marquis dignity with a first-time acquaintance. Yet, seeing such noble authority and elegance for the first time, Isaac felt overwhelmed.
(Can I really lead people like these?)
Even Morgan, while speaking with Jerome, held a commanding noble tone. Unlike the managers Isaac had met in his previous life, the difference was stark. Even imagining himself talking like this one day seemed impossible. Another wall rose before his dreams.
Oblivious to Isaac's inner struggle, Jerome turned his gaze to him.
"I've heard so much about my proud grandson, but today he seems quiet," Jerome said.
"...Is this your first visit to another household? Perhaps you're nervous," he added.
Morgan looked at Isaac with concern. Isaac had only just turned five. He had never visited a friend's house, and this first visit being to the Chancellor's home was a heavy burden for a child. Even if he wanted to go, perhaps it wasn't appropriate.
Isaac, however, dispelled that worry.
"My apologies for causing concern. Being so young, my manners are still lacking. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to speak with the Marquis and his lady," he said, bowing his head.
It was difficult to admit, "I was intimidated by your authority." Instead, he framed it as uncertainty about how to join the conversation.
Their response was laughter—light, not mocking, but warm.
"I see why the Wellrod Marquis brags," Jerome said.
"If he can answer like that at his age, one cannot help but have high expectations," Rosa added, covering her mouth in surprise.
"Indeed," Morgan said proudly, chest puffed with pride.
"He is my proud grandson," Margaret said with a smile. At five, Randolph had been far more difficult. The fact that Isaac could hold a conversation already marked him as extraordinary.
"Ah, but Pamela is no slouch either," Jerome chuckled, recalling his granddaughter.
(Ah, the authority is gone.)
Isaac noticed Jerome's demeanor had softened, like Morgan's gentle grandfatherly tone.
"Pamela can read and do arithmetic. She's very clever—and above all, adorable," Jerome said, chuckling softly at the thought of his granddaughter. Isaac mentally noted, Where did the authority from earlier go?
"I've heard His Highness is also wise. By the time these children grow up, this kingdom may be at its peak," Morgan said thoughtfully. Jerome nodded in agreement. Maybe it was familial pride, but the grandchildren were indeed impressive.
"By the way, may I meet Pamela? Since I'm here in Royal Capital, I'd like a new friend," Isaac took the opportunity to request an audience. He wasn't there to mock her hairstyle—just a genuine meeting.
If the prince ever had to sentence her, Isaac didn't want her thinking, "Why is this person helping me? Scary..." Establishing a good friendship now could only help. Seeing Jerome's doting attitude toward his granddaughter reinforced Isaac's plan.
He was sure: Jerome adored his granddaughter so much that he'd drop all pretense of authority. If he could become friends with Pamela and help her in a pinch, the Windsor Marquis would likely become an ally. The concern was that, as Nobles, they might accept the royal family's decision and allow Pamela to be punished. To prevent that, Isaac would need to establish relations and guide their thinking carefully. The challenges were many.
"Hmm... yes..."
Jerome looked toward Rosa.
"I think it's a good idea. She's clever and often talks with adults. Meeting a peer she can relate to will surely be stimulating," he said.
Perhaps because Pamela was a girl or because domestic matters were left to Rosa, Jerome sought her opinion. Rosa agreed. Observing their smooth, unspoken understanding, Isaac noted the couple's harmony.
"Call Pamela," Jerome ordered.
"Understood," the servant replied, moving with quiet speed and grace.
Isaac knew it took time to prepare a girl. Jerome had likely hinted she might be called, or perhaps wanted to show off his granddaughter to Morgan.
――――
As Isaac expected, Pamela arrived promptly. Although the Windsor estate was large, the delay was minimal and hardly worth noting.
The reception room doors opened to reveal a blonde girl standing there.
"Ah..."
Seeing Pamela for the first time, Isaac felt a stirring of unfamiliar emotion.
Pamela had completely captured Isaac's attention.
――Pamela was adorable.
――But that didn't matter.
――She had sported blonde drill hair since childhood.
――Still, that didn't matter.
――She was only five years old.
――Again, that didn't matter.
From the moment he laid eyes on her, Isaac felt it deep inside.
――A connection of souls, as if their fates were intertwined.
Even in his previous life, he had never felt such emotions toward anyone of the opposite sex. Isaac was bewildered by this first, unfamiliar feeling.
(Could this be love at first sight...? But she's not even a legal teen—she's single digits!)
Even counting his previous life, he was nearly thirty. To have his heart stolen by a five-year-old girl was, frankly, embarrassing. Yet, believing it was love at first sight made his face flush with emotions he could not contain. Isaac had never experienced romance before; perhaps he was mistaken. Still, he convinced himself it was love at first sight.
Pamela looked at him in turn, cheeks flushed. She was probably feeling the same way. Among the countless people in the world, how lucky it was to meet someone your soul drew toward. Isaac firmly believed they were destined to be mutual friends, perhaps even something more.
(All this talk of conquering kingdoms... it doesn't matter anymore. As long as we can live happily, I don't need to cross dangerous bridges.)
For the first time, his feelings overwhelmed him—enough to make him momentarily give up the power he had long craved.
"――Zack, Isaac."
"Eh-ah?"
Margaret shook his shoulder, and an awkward sound escaped him. He had been lost in his own world. Had he not returned to reality, he might have stared at Pamela forever.
"...Isaac. Go greet her," Margaret urged.
She saw immediately what Isaac felt for Pamela. It wasn't female intuition—it was obvious to anyone observing his every movement.
Isaac stood and walked toward Pamela, moving more awkwardly than he ever had.
"I am Isaac, son of Randolph of the Wellrod Marquis family," he said.
"I am Pamela, daughter of Theodore of the Windsor Marquis family," she replied.
Just an introduction. Yet, it was more nerve-wracking than any job interview he had ever faced.
He had confidence in his face—gentle and beautiful, inherited from Randolph and Lucia—but standing before Pamela, he feared even minor flaws. What if she were disappointed?
As Isaac reached out for her hand, Pamela suddenly ran off.
"Ah!"
He watched her retreating figure from the door, reluctant to follow. The thought, "What if I chase her and she hates me?" kept his feet rooted.
"This is... troublesome," Jerome muttered, hand on his forehead, clearly exasperated. Pamela's cuteness explained Isaac's infatuation, but him falling for her as well? That was unexpected even for Jerome.
Hearing that, Isaac remembered Jerome and hurried to him.
"Please let me be engaged to Pamela!"
"What—"
His blunt request shocked everyone present.
"That's impossible," Jerome said apologetically.
Isaac discarded all courtesy, grabbing Jerome's trousers and pleading further.
"Please! If it's about succession rights, I can handle it myself. I'm not asking for help. I'll settle it on my own!"
"That's not the point," Morgan said, scooping Isaac up to stop him.
"What do you mean?" Isaac asked, seated.
Morgan faltered, glancing at Jerome. Even Jerome, capable of cold, impartial judgment, seemed reluctant to speak to a child. Rosa observed, thinking, Men are hopeless at times like this, and spoke the cruel truth to Isaac.
"Pamela has been betrothed to His Highness Jason, since birth."
"No...."
It wasn't a matter of timing; she had been promised from birth. No matter how urgently Isaac acted, it was already too late.
"This was to maintain the balance of power between the Noble and Royalist factions—"
Morgan's explanation didn't reach Isaac's mind.
When he realized it, they were already in the carriage. Morgan and the others, worried about his dazed state, had cut their visit short.
As the carriage passed through the gates, Isaac looked back at the mansion.
(So, until the Royal Academy graduation ceremony, Pamela will never be mine...)
That had always been his goal and starting point. Yet it was still more than ten years away. Until then, Pamela belonged to the prince. To think of touching her skin, eventually kissing her, perhaps even beyond—that thought made his chest ache.
(Quiet... please. I almost want to cry.)
A high-pitched wail sounded, irritating him greatly.
――In all his lives, this was the first time he had encountered a soulmate, someone destined to be a partner. And now he was moving away from her home. Even though it wasn't a final farewell, just leaving was almost unbearable.
"Isaac, we'll find someone suitable for you," Morgan said.
"And I too. So, give up on that girl. It will only bring you pain," Margaret added.
They tried to console him, but the high-pitched cry overpowered their voices.
"No, nooo—"
He tried to say "no," but couldn't speak properly. Then Isaac realized—he was crying.
His first real sobbing of this life. The annoying high-pitched sound that had been bothering him? It was his own cry. He had been so captivated by Pamela that he hadn't even noticed.
"Isaac..."
He was not the only one. Both Morgan and Margaret had tears in their eyes.
Until now, he had never been selfish or demanding; the most he had wanted was a flower bed. Now, unable to grant his grandson what he desired most, they looked deeply saddened. Even as great Nobles, they could not take the prince's betrothed. All they could do was hold the sobbing Isaac and comfort him.
Notes:
• Ran - She is a gentle orphan, appeared as Mobu's close friend, surviving the demon attack in their secret hideout.