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Welcome to Entartainment & Snacks. I'm Krozam, a casual translator, writer hobbyist and ero enthusiast. When I created this blog years ago, I was planning to regularly post all kinds of stuff from translations to my own stories, from recommendations to baking recipes. However, as usual, I lost my motivation quickly. These days, this is just a place where I dump my occasional translations. Mainly R-18 stuff. Currently I'm working on Is It True That You Win Your Life with the “Beginner Pack”?, which is vanilla harem, and Light-Winged Magical Angel Ageha ~A Kind-Hearted Magical Girl Obscenely Violated~, which, as I'm sure you can guess from the title, is magical girl defeat rape themed.

21 May 2018

Princess Harem ch 1

Introducing the first two princesses of many to come...

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Chapter 1: Two Emperors, Two Princesses


Though Emperor Dravian was just as hard-headed as Toren, he was aware that the flow of the war had turned against him, so he turned out to be slightly easier to handle. Unfortunately, getting both emperors to the negotiation table was just the beginning. If not for me spelling out the basic frame of the peace deal, they would have gone on for days and probably still not reached a conclusion. After a couple of hours of back-and-forth, I was clear enough on the positions of both sides and simply worked out the deal with the notaries, while the fuming emperors were busy insulting each other. In the end, Dravian agreed surprisingly easily to my proposal, and after some coercion, Toren signed as well. The agreement was also signed by the witnesses, me among them. I placed myself as the impartial guarantor of the deal, tasking myself with the tiresome duty of seeing that the terms were met in reality as well as on paper. In addition, to sweeten the deal for Toren, whose empire had suffered a great deal from the invasion, I also promised my aid in the rebuilding efforts. With limitations, of course.

Thus, the destructive eight-year-war between the Divine Haiman Empire and the Empire of Dolon Gur finally came to its end. At the time, I was too exhausted, but later on, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of accomplishment comparable to the times of my greatest successes in adventuring and magic research. I disliked politics, so it was very rare for me to meddle in the matters of nations like this, but my actions this time probably saved countless lives, there was no way I wouldn’t feel some pride for it. With the resources of the two empires, and the stubborn nature of the emperors, the war could have gone on for another eight years easily. My only regret was that it took me this long to intervene.

A few days later, I was back in my tower, rested and mostly recovered, preparing to continue my research where I had left off.

My study was everything you’d expect from a mage’s work room: walls covered in bookshelves, mystical devices lying around wherever I had left them, a fireplace that rarely saw use, a desk with so many books and scrolls lying around atop it that there was barely enough space to open one - and a very comfortable, if a little worn out, chair. Generally, it was a mess, though the servants made sure to clean up the dust periodically. That was as much as I allowed them to do in this room, as I didn’t want them moving around any books or tools I might need.

Breathing in the familiar, comforting smell of this room, where I had spent most of my time awake for the past decade, I settled down on the chair and opened a book: Redowan’s Theorem on Space and Magic. Rather than something new, it was a book well familiar to me. The reason I was reading it again was to prepare for a lecture I had been invited to give in a certain magic school in about two weeks.  

I passed several hours reading and making notes. At some point, a maid brought me lunch, but I barely noticed before it was already cold. When it was about time for the afternoon tea, I heard a knock on the door forceful enough to break my concentration.

“Come in.”

Enrik, my butler, was a 55 years old refined gentleman who had lost his hair at a relatively young age, but was otherwise quite handsome and in a good physical condition. While a mischievous light smile often played on his lips, and he had a great sense of humour, he took his job seriously and performed it with admirable competence.

He often took it upon himself to personally deliver my meals, but this time, he was not carrying a tray.

“Master Wellman, you have guests in the portal chamber.”

“In the portal chamber? Did you not direct them to the sitting room?”

Enrik made a difficult face. “They were… arguing with each other. Very agitated, sir. I made the judgement to not approach them.”

As I frowned, a laughter echoed in my head: Trouble incoming! I can practically smell it! I told you you would yet regret sticking your nose into that mess, Wellman.

Shut up, Ortec. I’m not regretting it. Yet, anyway. He was in high spirits, since I had recharged his mana just the day before. His laughter was cut short, however, as I summoned him to my hand from across the room, where I had left him leaning against the wall. He hated it, apparently flying through the air made his head spin. Sometimes, when I used him as a quarterstaff in a fight, he would complain to me about feeling sick.

“Probably a good call, Enrik. I’ll go and meet them in the portal chamber.”

* * *

“Take your brat and go home! She has absolutely no chance against my angel, so you should save yourself the embarrassment and disappear before the mage gets here. I’ll pretend you were never here.”

“You are delusional! If that cow you call your ‘daughter’ had a hundredth of my little sunshine’s charm, a peasant might take her. Alas, she does not, so your hopes are going to be mercilessly crushed.”

“Cow?! I know you barbarians are fond of your animals, but don’t go calling civilised people’s children with those terms. And speaking of charm, look at your ‘angel’ hiding behind your back like a scared animal. No dignity whatsoever!”

“You wouldn’t know dignity if it farted in your face, Toren. Have you no shame, scaring a child with your pathetic outburst?”

I could hear the arguing from the other side of the double doors. I sighed and exchanged a glance with Enrik. He looked sympathetic, and relieved that he wouldn’t need to go in there.

“I think they’ll be staying for the afternoon tea.”

“Master.” The butler bowed and took the cue to leave and make preparations.

I pushed the heavy double door open with magic, and entered the portal chamber.

This was a fairly large room in the ground floor of my tower. Surrounding a circular area in the middle of the room, there were five round frames made of certain alloys for excellent magical conductivity and certain magnetic properties. Gateframes, tools for supporting permanent magical Gates. These were of my own design, more stable than the current standard design. Only two of those frames were in active use at the moment, containing what looked like thin sheets of pure darkness stretched across the frames. They led to the imperial palaces of Haiman and Dolon Gur. I had set them up in order to facilitate efficient transportation, cooperation and diplomacy between myself and the empires.

I hadn’t expected the emperors to use them personally. They were standing in the middle of the room, facing each other and loudly arguing. From the looks of it, I arrived just in time to prevent the dispute from escalating into a physical brawl. Both of them had two guards, but they seemed focused on each other, with no intention of trying to calm down their masters. There were also two young girls, one standing behind each emperor, making helpless faces. I noticed that both were very good looking, but I didn’t have the time to pay closer attention to them right now. I hastily put on my most confident expression and approached the emperors.

“Your Majesties! What brings you here?”

As I had hoped, my loud voice snapped them out of it. As one, they shut their mouths and turned to receive me with smiles so fake it kind of creeped me out.

“Magi Wellman,” Emperor Toren said, using an honorary title normally reserved for court mages in his empire. “I hope the timing of our visit doesn’t inconvenience you?”

He was dressed in the same colours as the last time I saw him, but this time, it was a ceremonial robe, which for some reason made the slight bump of his stomach stand out more. Unlike in the battlefield, he was clean shaven and his dark hair was groomed for display. For some reason, he wasn’t wearing his crown this time, either.

Having lost the chance to initiate the dialogue with me, the emperor of Dolon Gur stepped forward and injected himself into the conversation before it could go any further: “I’m terribly sorry for the unsightly display just now. I shouldn’t have let myself be pulled into that, but what can I say - he insulted my daughter.”

Dravian had a warrior’s physique, and a horseman’s bowlegs. His blond hair was tied up into a small tuft at slightly behind the vertex of his head, as was the way of his nomadic forefathers. Like Toren, he was clean shaven and had left his crown home (though for him, the latter was less unusual). Dravian was about the same age as Toren, somewhere between 45 and 50, but he had aged much better and was still rather good looking, perhaps because he took better care of his body, without succumbing to decadent pleasures. His ceremonial getup was considerably less colourful, though made of fine fabric, incorporating some fur, as decoration rather than for the practical purpose of making a warmer cloth.

“Are you implying I started that?! Like I started that war? Oh, that’s right, I didn’t!

“Your Majesties!” A loud thump echoed in the chamber, as I struck my staff at the floor. “Please behave yourselves. You’re embarrassing your honourable daughters.”

Well, aren’t you mature now. I distinctly remember you arguing with that Zally lass on a daily basis, when you cleared that dungeon together.

Maybe, but we still worked together. Now, be quiet, I need to focus. I’m dealing with very dangerous men right now.

The emperors looked suitably ashamed - from the fact that I referred to their daughters, they realised that I had heard a part of their spat.

“Ahem… May I introduce my third daughter, Mel. Mel, this is Master Wellman, whom I talked to you about.” Gently, Dravian pushed the girl hiding behind his back to the front.

Now that I got a proper look at her, I... was stunned. Wordless. Dravian’s bragging was well justified, his daughter was probably the most charming child I had ever seen. I recalled Princess Mel had recently turned 13 years old (I had been invited to her coming of age ceremony, but as usual, declined to attend), and she did look like she had just recently crossed the borderline from a child to a young woman. Her two-piece dress had a tight neckline, but left a narrow line of her stomach bare. The blue satin vest had a modest elevation at the chest area. Blue arm sleeves covered her slender forearms and wrists. The white skirt with blue and silver adornments reached down to her ankles and hid her shoes from my sight. The dress complemented her platinum blonde hair, which flowed freely down her back, with tresses on the front side reaching down to her navel. They descended straight until the last couple of handwidths, where they started to lightly spiral. As a finishing touch, she wore a thin, simple, white gold circlet on her brow.

Her blushing face had already lost its childish roundness and gained some lightly sensual features. The brave attempt to smile by a clearly timid girl tugged at my heartstrings. But what really had me were her sea-green, large, expressive eyes. Together with her small body, they stimulated my protective instincts. I had bent two emperors to my will at the appeal of a child. I was certain that if she begged me with those eyes upturned, I’d do it all over again.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Wellman! Dravian’s smug face is pissing me off.

I blinked and quickly returned my face to the usual expression. Ortec was right, Dravian’s self-satisfied smile was definitely annoying. And if I found it annoying, you can only imagine what went through Toren’s mind. He pushed his own daughter forward to stand side by side with Princess Mel.

“This is my daughter, Tamara. What do you think, Magi Wellman, isn’t she beautiful?”

Oh, she was. By the gods, she was. If I hadn’t been on guard this time, they’d probably have caught me staring slack-jawed again. Compared to the childlike charm of Princess Mel, Princess Tamara had a much more mature air about her. She was 16, so not quite a fully matured adult yet, but she was clearly much further along the way. She was about a head taller than Mel, and her skin tone was a tad lighter, though still a healthy colour. Her splendid white brocade dress was quite deeply cut, giving me a generous eyeful of her rather well formed bosom. It was a one-piece dress, but short-sleeved, and the skirt extended only down to her knees, leaving her downright godly legs bare. Good job, whoever picked that dress. Her glossy chestnut hair was tied up in a complex coiffure, and her diamond-adorned tiara was probably among the most valuable non-magical pieces of jewelry I had ever seen.

Her smile had a different kind of charm to it than Mel’s brave attempt: it seemed so genuine, so devoid of ulterior motives, that for a moment I was almost convinced she didn’t have any. Her beautiful amber eyes definitely had genuine warmth to them. But Princess Tamara wasn’t just beautiful. She was regal. She had the air of royalty, the kind that inspired trust and admiration, much more so than Princess Mel, or even the emperors.

“Ah… Indeed, she is. They both are. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highnesses.” I managed to gather my wits and make a passable bow. Ortec said nothing, but I could sense his amusement. I wasn’t making a fool of myself, was I?

“The pleasure is mine, Master Wellman,” Princess Tamara replied with a graceful curtsey. “My father has told me much about you - though not always in the most positive light.”

That last remark was accompanied by a mischievous wink, showing that she also possessed a splendid sense of humour. Her father’s panicked expression behind her was terribly entertaining, I had to consciously control myself in order to not grin. Ortec, however, had no need to hold back, and his explosive laughter in my head showed that occasionally, just occasionally, we actually agreed on some things.

“L- likewise, Master Wellman,” Princess Mel added, also performing a charming curtsey. Although she stuttered a little, probably due to nervousness in front of a stranger, her voice was clear and pleasant to the ear. It had certain quality to it that made me suspect that she was trained to sing from a young age, as was fairly common among the daughters of nobility.

“Shall we go to the sitting room?” I suggested, half-turning and motioning towards the double door.

* * *

“Would I like to do what?!” I almost spilled my tea.

“I understand this must come out of the blue for you, given how we parted in less than cordial terms, but after a long... discussion with the queen, we decided that Master Wellman was a worthy suitor for our Mel.” The way Emperor Dravian paused before the word “discussion” made me wonder what exactly happened between them.

“I have also come to see the benefits of deepening our ties with Magi Wellman. While my heart as a father bleeds at the thought of seeing Tamara join another household, I always knew it had to happen sooner or later.”

I frowned. “But Your Majesty, I thought Princess Tamara was engaged to Prince Etram of Holm?”

Toren made a dismissive hand wave. “I’m about to break off that engagement. It was something decided many years ago, when they were both children, and Prince Etram didn’t grow up to be the man I hoped.”

Well, Prince Etram’s reputation was indeed quite bad, and furthermore, Holm’s influence had seen a drastic drop in the recent years due to some bad economic policies.

GYAHAHAHAHA! This is priceless! You scare these morons out of their wits, and instead of trying to kill you, like any self-respecting ruler, they offer their precious daughters to you!

Ortec, I have a feeling your understanding of “self-respect” is corrupted beyond helping.

In order to gain some time to think, I sipped my tea and brought some cake to my mouth. Out of social courtesy ingrained into most high-born in their childhood, my guests followed my example, justifying a moment of silence. We were sitting around the table in my sitting room, me on one side and the guests on the opposite site. (The guards of course stood behind their masters.) As soon as we had entered, the maids had served us my finest tea and some sweet cake.

Now then, what to do? Although I didn’t foresee it, the reasons for these marriage offers were fairly obvious. I had very publicly and conspicuously shown myself to be a mage with, even if I say so myself, legendary power. As Ortec said, I had also managed to frighten the emperors. I hardly thought they had come to like me, but after getting over the initial shock, they had come to see me as either a threat or an asset of national scale. They didn’t want to be on my bad side. They wanted to manipulate me, or if that proved impossible, at the very least be on good terms with me.

From the fact that, while I lived in reasonable comfort, I also lived in relative seclusion and didn’t have the habit of showing off my wealth, they had concluded that I would not be easily swayed by riches. Besides, both empires had just fought a long war, their coffers had surely seen fatter times. There was the possibility of offering rare magical articles, but I was not known to be a collector, and losing anything useful enough to sway me would be a blow to the empire’s power and prestige. The method that remained, which was simultaneously the cheapest and usually the most reliable method, was to forge an alliance through marriage. Certainly, they were both doting fathers, but at the same time, they were savvy politicians raised into the idea that one of the most powerful tools in a ruler’s arsenal was a well placed(/married) daughter.

What, then, would be the benefits and drawbacks of me either accepting one of their offers, or rejecting them? Well, rejection would result in them continuing to see me as a potential threat, a power equivalent to a nation not bound by geographical location or political realities. I didn’t relish the idea of dodging assassins for the rest of my life, not to mention the possibilities of tarnishing my reputation with rumours or other unsavory tactics they could take to make my life miserable. So I wanted to somehow convince these emperors that I wasn’t a threat to them. I had already meddled in their affairs once, to tremendous effect, so even if I promised to stay out of their way from now on, my words would sound hollow to them. Besides, I didn’t want to restrict myself with such promises, I intended to see the peace hold.

Taking one of the princesses as a bride would likely result in one of the emperors coming to see me not as a threat, but as a valuable ally. He would likely try to manipulate me, though. The other one would then see me as twice more dangerous a threat than before. Furthermore, it would lead to my facade of neutrality in the conflict of these two empires to crumble in the public eye. Yep, in the end, that was the worst possible option. I would have to find an excuse to reject them both while minimising the damage.

“Um… I may look like this, but I’m actually 40 years old. Old enough to be their father. While I’m absolutely charmed, I’m having difficulties seeing these children as prospective marriage partners.”

Bullshit. You were eating them up with your eyes back in the portal chamber.

I was not! Not that way.

The emperors exchanged a glance. “I think you are overthinking it, Master Wellman. Such an age difference is nothing unusual. Mel is of marriageable age, otherwise I would not be offering her hand in the first place.”

They thought I was worried about my public image. “No, but don’t you think the princesses would prefer someone closer to their own age?”

“Nonsense,” Toren said dismissively. “What a woman needs is a good man, that is all. Love doesn’t care about your age.”

Hypocrite. Talking about love while offering his daughter’s hand to a man she’s meeting for the first time, with obviously political motives.

I needed more ammunition to shoot down their plans without insulting them. I laid my teacup down on the table and studied the two princesses, both in turn. Princess Mel, sitting on the right next to her father, was already done with her cake, far ahead of anyone else. She didn’t meet my gaze directly, instead modestly looking down at the teacup in her hands. I figured she was listening, but treated the conversations as if we were talking about someone else.

Princess Tamara, on the left side from my perspective, seemed much more attentive. I couldn’t read her expression, but she returned my gaze with a smile, lightly cocking her head as if to ask, “is something wrong?” A charming gesture.

“Your Majesties,” I said, “could I exchange a few words with the princesses in private?”

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