Common Sense of a Warrior
Prime Minister's Challenge
The next day, I was visiting the Duke of Grindle's house.
Going to the territory of each Duke's house is not fulfilled due to time constraints, but goes around each separate residence in the capital.
The capital of the Principality of Limmel, like the king's capital for the Kingdom of Tasmeria, is the heart of the country.
Even though it is just a capital, the capital for the Duchy of Limmel, which has strong territorial independence, means a buffer zone for the five Dukes.
Each house holds a separate residence of the same size in the capital, and it is always decided that once a year this period will be gathered together for the operation of the country.
Rocked by a carriage looking out over the city, he arrived at the Duke of Grindle's house.
"Welcome to the Principality of Limmel. Lord Romel."
The person who welcomed me with a flamboyant grin is rightly the Duke of Grindle homeowner that person.
"Nice to meet you, Lord Maurice. Thank you for inviting me in today."
I tried again to smile and accept the welcome.
"It is a great honor to welcome the Prime Minister of the famous Kingdom of Tasmeria."
"Oh... famous, is it? I hope your reputation is not bad."
"Hahahaha...... be modest. What do you say, Prime Minister of the Rare Age of the Kingdom of Tasmeria?"
"Are you the prime minister... that's just an excessive word"
Sit in the seat recommended by Maurice.
Behind me, Alf stood to refrain.
"I don't feel like it's the first time you've had a frequent exchange of letters"
To Maurice's words, for a moment, the place soothes.
"You're right. I don't think I've ever met you, either."
And in my eyes, I see a beautiful cloth hanging from a window as a curtain.
Light water coloured fabric with fine floral pattern.
The expression "luxurious" fits well so that the delicate pattern spreads all over the cloth.
"Speaking of fame… is that the world-famous Grindle cloth"
"Yeah, that's right. Grindle cloth, one by one, is woven by artisans. So even if it looks like the same pattern, the details are subtly different."
"Well... I see, is that so? Grindle cloth is certainly popular in the Kingdom of Tasmeria, and you can't get it inside.... really, beautiful"
"That's an honor."
Maurice had a satisfying grin.
"... by the way, Lord Romel. What do you think of this country?
To that inquiry, he pointed his gaze from Grindle's cloth to Maurice.
"I haven't seen everything... but it's the same as in my country."
There was no time to think, and Maurice was tilting her neck at the words she answered without putting her hair in.
"People work, get food, eat, and connect raw. I thought the Kingdom of Tasmeria and the Principality of Limmel were no different."
"I see..."
You convinced me, Maurice smiles quietly.
"That's why useless strife should be avoided... isn't that what you think, too?
"That's not such a noble idea of mine.... I simply don't want my beloved people to get hurt.... Whatever the consequences, if there is a dispute, the people will always be hurt. I don't feel like asking for that myself."
Maurice stood up and approached the window.
It faces the north side, where the territory of the Duke of Grindle lies, near it.
"Really, you love me.... about the territory. And about the inhabitants."
"Of course.... aren't you too?
"Yes, I love you. … but unfortunately, what you said about" the kind of people you want "is in your country and in our country."
To my words, Maurice was so dropped on her shoulder that she knew she was.
"... you're very honest."
"On my own, I think you and I are comrades on this matter."
Maurice laughs small.
"... Indeed. If you love the true kingdom and are trying to avoid strife, you and I share the same will.... Unfortunately, your faith is better in this matter than in your own country."
"I think the same thing. That's why I want to speak to you in a broken stomach."
"Well... if that's the case, I'll have to break my stomach as well"
"It helps."
I laughed small.
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