Akatsuki Translations

Under the rays of the spring sun, the imposing gates of the royal palace were wide open. In the center of the square inside the city gate, tiered seats were set up, guarded by knights clad in silver armor. The top tier of the staircase seating was covered with a crimson carpet embroidered with gold thread, the second tier with a dark blue carpet with silver thread, and the third with a plain blue cloth. Twelve chairs per tier awaited the attendees. 

On the busiest day in the royal capital, the scene, perfectly visualizing the structure of this country, was… 

“Such an extravagant hinadan[1],” I muttered unintentionally among the crowd gathered in front of the gate. It bore no resemblance to the traditional beauty of my homeland. A man next to me, who looked like a craftsman, was visibly perplexed. Naturally, the word ‘hinadan’ was unknown in this world. 

It is the first day of January, New Year’s Day in the world I lived in fifteen years ago. However, it’s spring here, which would be around the end of March or April in Japan. Although it’s an event to pray for a bountiful harvest, in the agricultural worker-free royal capital, it’s more about celebrating the new year. 

The prosperity of the royal capital, with a population of two hundred thousand, is impressive considering its level of civilization. Stable climate and flat terrain, along with the last foreign war being fifty years ago, have contributed to the rich agricultural country, Crownheight. As far as records show, there have been no earthquakes or volcanic eruptions, and the last decade has known no poor harvests. It’s only logical that the citizens’ faces are bright when food and safety are secured. 

Consequently, the rigid political system of this nation, that is, the tiered platform before my eyes, remains unshaken. The social classes of royalty, nobility, and commoners are almost fixed, with hierarchies within each. It’s unbearably restrictive for someone who lived in modern Japan until his mid-twenties in his previous life. Even I, who was rather conservative in my previous life, say so. 

By this I mean, reborn as the son of a small merchant, trying to do various things with my knowledge from my previous life leads to inevitable inconvenience and unfairness. It’s too harsh for me, who values self-preservation above all. 

Admittedly, it’s good that the governance is stable. Maintaining order deserves a passing grade. Knowledge and technology are passed down through people, so it’s somewhat inevitable to focus on local and blood ties. 

But, or rather therefore, economic activities should be more flexible. Merchants take on risks, that’s their role. 

They connect producers and consumers, ensuring stable prices and supply. They serve as a buffer in the form of inventory. Moreover, they explore new products and markets, diversifying the flow of wealth. 

Taking risks for stability, that’s the role of commerce. Otherwise, there would be no reason for merchants, who produce nothing, to sometimes amass wealth greater than that of minor lords. 

And to take on risks, one must be flexible and quick to act. However, there are those who hinder everything, citing precedent and hierarchy as reasons. It’s heartbreaking that the commercial guilds, which should be mutual aid societies for merchants, are the ones doing this. 

The lower seats beginning to fill up are occupied by prominent merchants leading various commercial guilds. Their attire, made of velvet-like fabric with standing collars, is almost noble-like. In fact, they hold honorary titles limited to their generation. The king appoints them, recommended by great nobles with vested interests in each guild. Naturally, when a merchant association changes hands, the son is newly granted the title, making it almost hereditary. 

I glared at the potbellied Drefano sitting in the center of the lower seats. He was the head of the Food Guild, dealing not only in grains but also in high-end ingredients for the nobility. He was the man who had caused every possible nuisance to our Vinder Company’s new honey. I could tolerate being overwhelmed by capital, losing in advertising and sales strength, or, in other words, connections to the nobility, as these represent a merchant’s strength and credibility. But I will not tolerate the exploitation of the fact that opposing the Guild Head is seen as defiance against the nobility. 

I will not allow it. It’s not just wrong or pardonable; it is unacceptable. I respect my business rivals, but I show no mercy to political enemies. Speaking up now would only sound like the howling of a defeated dog. 

The seats of the genuine nobility on the second tier were filling up. I was surprised by the person seated to the right of the center. A woman, and quite young, in her mid-twenties. The person next to her was a duke who had served as prime minister for the past decade or so, indicating her status as the head of a noble family of a similar rank. 

While I was scrolling through my mental list of names, the top tier filled up. The king sat down on the throne. I realized that the number of people around had greatly increased. They were probably here for the sacred drink to be served after this farce. 

The king handed something over, and the prime minister unfolded it. “People of the kingdom,” he began. His voice, amplified by a magical device, carried well to our ears. The content, however, lacked any interest. Essentially, it was just “last year was bountiful thanks to the gods’ blessings.” To be precise, the East had a bountiful year, while the West was normal. 

I wondered if they ever thought of adding some originality or playfulness to their speech. Suppressing a yawn, I looked up at the stage again and noticed an empty seat. It was placed a bit away from the royal family and seemed too simple for the top tier. 

I remembered her, someone who should have been there. Alfina Crownheight, a classmate I had spoken to a few times at the academy. She was something like the fourth princess, I think. Even though she was the fourth, I had the impression that her job was to add luster to such farces. 

As I looked around, the prime minister’s reading came to an end. 

As if waiting for this, a girl in priestly attire appeared. Her plain purple robe, without any decorations, was modest compared to the glittering gems and lavish embroidery of the top tier. Yet, it only highlighted the girl’s purity. 

Her lustrous silver-blue hair was visible even from a distance. A youthful yet well-structured face. A slender figure with modest curves. She was like a living figure of a saintess, no, even more beautiful than that. Far cuter than the second or third princesses dressed in their fancy gowns. 

“From the Shrine Maiden Princess Alfina, this year’s prophecy will be announced.” -Prime Minister 

Alfina stood up from her distant seat. Just a nominal clergywoman, perhaps a nun by status. But still, a prophecy, what an utter farce. In this world of magic, it’s not entirely dismissible, but it’s just a ritual. Just like the earlier words, the content doesn’t change every year. If the king’s words were “last year was good,” then the prophecy is merely “This year will also be good.” 

Besides, if it were a real prophecy, it couldn’t be publicly announced. What would they do if it foretold the country’s destruction or an impending war? 

“This year too, the land will bring us many blessings. Especially in the West…” -Princess Alfina 

The clear voice of the girl echoed through the venue. The eyes of the people were focused on the beautiful fifteen-year-old. She was attracting far more attention than the prime minister’s reading. Indeed, a beautiful young girl made a captivating scene. The people were more honest than the dignitaries on the platform. 

Though her words were ambiguous like a prophecy, the gist was that the East would have a usual harvest and the West a bountiful one. The citizens’ mood lifted with the festival’s spirit, understandable given the bright future announced by a noble, beautiful young girl. Of course, I had no intention of relying on such things for business. 

Alfina had just finished stirring hope for a bright year when she stopped speaking. The people braced for cheering as the event was about to end and the city gates would close, marking the start of the festival among the commoners. I had no interest in this kind of performance, but I thought of applauding my classmate who had played her part well. It was more than she needed, but she had helped me out once. 

As I was about to clap, she looked up with determination. 

“Please listen,” she said, her voice filled with urgency, different from before. 

“The crystal has foretold another future… This year, a great disaster from the West will strike our country.” -Princess Alfina 

The crowd looked around in confusion. Some, who had started clapping prematurely, stopped awkwardly. Alfina pursed her lips and stared straight at the bewildered people, silently asserting the truth of her words. 

“Hey, is she alright?” -Ricardo 

Even someone as tactless as me could feel the atmosphere tense. The dignitaries on the platform were visibly shaken. The nobles had tense faces, and the queen and crown prince glared at her bitterly. The king maintained his composure, but his smile had turned into a mask. 

Given the religious significance, or rather because of it, it was impossible that the words of the Shrine Maiden Princess were not checked in advance. 

This meant her statement was not planned. My classmate, out of reach, clasped her hands in front of her chest in a praying gesture, enduring the stares. 

“What disaster?” “The West…?” The murmurs of the people grew louder. It was natural, given the sudden, ominous, and vague warning. 

For someone like me who thought it was all a farce from the start, it was one thing, but for the superstitious public, it was something else. The commotion would only escalate from here. 

Decorated guards approached Alfina. The prime minister stood up. The notable female noble headed towards Alfina. The girl, who showed a sign of resistance, sat down resignedly after the noblewoman spoke to her. 

“Even if a disaster is to come, the kingdom will overcome it and protect its peace and prosperity, as it always has!” the prime minister declared. 

The people on the tiered platform burst into applause. “Long live the kingdom!” shouted the knights around the stage. This prompted scattered applause from the crowd in front of the city gate. Bottles of ceremonial alcohol were brought out from inside, cheers erupted, and the applause grew louder, as if the tension had been released. 

Amidst an awkward atmosphere, as if to seal away the troublesome matter, the city gates began to close. Through the gap in the gate, I could see Alfina, shoulders drooped, being escorted down the steps by the female noble. 

I thought of her as I knew her at the academy. Elegant and calm, her demeanor was so unassuming it was hard to believe she was royalty. The term “grandstanding” couldn’t be further from her character. What could be her reason for disrupting the celebratory mood of the New Year… 

“Well, it’s none of my business. Time to head back to the shop.” Ricardo 

Turning my back on the citizens flocking to their drinks, I decided not to dwell on the prophecy. The term “West” nagged at me, but there was no point in pondering such vague predictions. As the son of a small merchant association, already buffeted by guild pressures and other tangible threats, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by the high and mighty’s “festivities.” 

TL Note(s) 

[1] A “hinadan” or “tiered platform” (雛壇) is a stand used for hina dolls https://news.gamme.com.tw/667843