"Colin, you're human too, so of course you'd want to look out for your fellow disciples first. But asking me to employ someone who's utterly useless just because they're a schoolmate—"
"N-no, that's not it! I didn't summon her—she's the one who came asking to see Your Highness!"
At Lucian's words, Colin panicked and waved his hands frantically.
He insisted that this wasn't a case of personal favoritism, but something he had no choice about.
"I know that Your Highness isn't someone who believes in astrology! But because of a debt I owe from the past, I simply couldn't refuse her!"
"A debt? What kind of debt?"
"A debt of divination. When I first met Your Highness, I told you about it—do you remember?"
"Ah, that."
The day Colin first met Lucian.
After burning Godfrey to death, Colin had abruptly begged Lucian to take him in.
When Lucian demanded to know what kind of nerve he had to do such a thing, the answer he received was a fortune.
Even now, the memory of being left speechless at the idea that Colin had come relying on nothing but a fellow mage's divination remained vivid.
"Didn't you say that if I let you slip away, I'd become a harbinger of death, but if I took you in, I'd turn into a benefactor?"
"Exactly. I clung to Your Highness believing in that one fortune alone."
"And in the end, the fortune turned out to be correct. Thanks to clinging to me back then, you even became the chief mage of Asagrim."
"That's precisely the problem. If the fortune had been wrong, there would have been no talk of debts—but in the end, things unfolded exactly as she foretold. Which means I'm left with an unpaid debt."
"I see. That does complicate things."
Lucian stroked his chin and fell into thought.
To be honest, he still didn't believe in things like divination, nor did he intend to.
But Colin was no longer just an ordinary retainer—he was now one of Lucian's close aides.
If it was to clear a debt borne by someone so close to him, meeting a single fortune-teller was not too much to ask.
"Very well. I'll meet her once."
"Thank you for Your Highness's mercy!"
"But remember this clearly: merely meeting her is all I'm agreeing to. There is no place in the White Palace for a fortune-teller to work. If she truly wishes to serve, she'll have to prove abilities other than divination."
"I will make sure she understands."
Colin bowed repeatedly, then hurried off at once.
***
A short while later, Colin returned—with a woman at his side.
The woman, striking for her red hair, knelt before Lucian and spoke.
"I greet Duke Grimaldi. My name is Helen. I studied under the Celestial Studies faction together with my senior brother."
"Yes, well met. I hear you asked Colin to arrange a meeting with me. What is it you want?"
"Though my abilities are lacking, I came hoping to serve Duke Grimaldi. I humbly ask that you accept me."
At Helen's request for appointment, Lucian turned his gaze to Colin.
The look in his eyes clearly asked whether he had truly explained things properly, and Colin nodded frantically in response.
Seeing this, Helen smiled faintly and continued.
"My senior brother explained everything to me quite clearly. That Duke Grimaldi neither believes in nor consults divination."
"You seem well informed. But tell me—what does it mean for an astrologer to seek appointment under me? Are you suggesting I use you for schemes or stratagems?"
Lucian himself did not believe in fortune-telling, but there were no shortage of people in the world who did.
Weren't there countless fools who believed, with absolute conviction, even in the charlatans spreading mats on street corners?
If even the fortunes of ordinary people drew such devotion, then a mage's divination would inspire far greater fervor.
Used properly—say, sent to an enemy lord weak to superstition—it was not entirely without potential use.
"The moment a false prophecy is exposed, your head would roll. You'd get to shine once at best, and that would be the end of it. Still, if even such a post is what you want, I can arrange it."
"I apologize. It may sound presumptuous, but I do not speak false prophecies. One who covers the truth they have seen with the palm of their hand will, by that very palm, lose even the sight they once possessed."
"I'm sorry, but I have no interest in divination. If you want to work as an astrologer, you should look elsewhere."
"I did not come seeking employment as an astrologer. I wish to stand at Your Highness's side as an advisor and lend you my wisdom."
"An advisor?"
Lucian gave a dry chuckle and tapped the armrest of his throne.
An astrologer as an advisor—wasn't that a scene he had seen many times before?
"As far as I know, kings who relied on divination often kept astrologers as advisors. And the kingdoms those kings ruled all ended in ruin."
"My advice would not be based on divination, but on my own judgment. If you find me untrustworthy, then at least hear the advice I offer now."
"Go on. But don't resent me later if I ignore it after you've gone to the trouble of speaking."
"I will provide Your Highness with an army."
Lucian blinked at the abrupt, groundless declaration.
She had said she would offer advice—so why was she suddenly talking about an army?
"I don't need an army. The elite troops dispatched by the Imperial Court and the Knights of the Blue Rose are guarding Asagrim. Raising a force here would only waste more of the budget."
"The army lent by the Imperial Court is not Your Highness's army. They are loyal to the Empire, not to you, and are nothing more than guests who will return once recalled. What Your Highness needs right now is an army that pledges absolute loyalty to you, is it not?"
"Hm."
It wasn't wrong.
After all, that was precisely why he had planned to raise an army once the territory stabilized.
Lucian had already learned that the Knights of the Blue Rose harbored far more dissatisfaction toward the Imperial Court than expected, and had shifted his approach toward fully winning them over. Still, from the perspective of an outsider unaware of that fact, her assessment was not a bad one.
When Lucian tilted his chin slightly, signaling her to continue, Helen went on.
"Of course, Your Highness must already be aware of this and have plans of your own in mind. However, no matter what course you choose, training elite troops always takes time."
"That's only natural. Don't tell me you intend to suggest cutting that time short by bringing in soldiers from elsewhere?"
Lucian's eyes turned cold at once.
The reason he insisted on training elite troops himself—even if it took time—was simple.
When a rabble was forged into an elite force, they became all the more loyal to the lord who had supported them through that process.
By contrast, troops who were already elite knew their own worth and demanded appropriate treatment from the outset.
To those they had been raised by, the very act of being cultivated was a debt of gratitude—but to another lord, no such bond existed.
That was why Lucian spared no expense in giving the best treatment to the Knights of the Blue Rose and the Imperial Court's elite forces.
"Exactly. The current state of affairs is far too chaotic to turn a rabble into elite troops."
Yet even sensing the shift in atmosphere, Helen agreed without batting an eye.
Just as Lucian, disappointed, was about to speak—
"Beyond the snowfields lies the frozen land, a realm of ice now traversed by only a very few. There, people who share blood with Your Highness and your ancestors still live."
"…What?"
Lucian repeated the word blankly at the unexpected statement.
At the same time, a conversation he had once shared with Norbek surfaced in his mind.
—Before our ancestors settled in Asagrim, when they lived as barbarians. Far to the north of this land lay snowfields where thirty-five tribes dwelled.
A secret history unknown to most of the people of the North.
The true roots of the Northern royal house.
And yet—they were still alive?
As Lucian stood there, utterly dumbfounded, Helen's voice reached his ears.
"Embrace the tribes beyond the snowfields and become the true King of the North."
***
For the time being, Lucian decided to set Helen's proposal aside.
What mattered most right now was settling the residents, not acquiring an army.
Helen, of course, agreed that this was the sensible course and affirmed Lucian's decision.
"I don't mind waiting. However, I have no desire to become a freeloader. If there is any work left over, please entrust it to me, even if only a little."
"Could you assist Colin with magical research?"
"I'm afraid that won't be possible. Even though we are both mages, what my senior brother and I studied differs too greatly in nature."
"I was told you belonged to the same faction—are they really that different?"
"It's like the difference between a soldier who thrusts a spear and one who operates a catapult during war."
Put that way, there was nothing more to say. Still, there was little else to assign to a mage.
Divination was out of the question, since Lucian had no desire for it. Physical labor was likewise impossible with arms that slender.
The only thing left was administrative work within the territory.
"Do you have any knowledge of territorial administration?"
"Very little. However, I am confident that I received a level of basic education comparable to that of the administrators."
"Then gather the minor reports and sort them by department. For that, a foundation in general knowledge will suffice."
He said it that way, but he didn't have particularly high expectations.
No matter how carefully territorial affairs were categorized, they often ended up handled in an ad hoc fashion.
It wasn't because the administrators were incompetent—rather, when dealing with one matter, it often affected the work of other departments as well, requiring them to be handled together.
It was a form of overstepping authority, but when the matters were trivial, it was far more convenient to deal with them immediately and ask for understanding afterward.
Actually, having people meet one by one to coordinate things would just be a waste of time. Once work starts getting delayed, everything else inevitably gets clogged up as well.
Lucian was well aware of this himself. Still, since people—not documents—were what truly mattered, he exercised a fair degree of flexibility.
It was better to process things quickly, even if a bit messy, than to let work pile up in the name of neatness and leave the residents confused.
Put another way, the moment categorization went wrong, operations would slow to a crawl—and all eyes would immediately turn to the person responsible.
If she truly has her sights set on the role of advisor, she should at least be able to handle this much.
Bringing astonishing information and possessing actual ability were two separate matters.
If she failed to demonstrate real competence, there was no reason to entrust her with anything important.
Then, a few days later, when Lucian came to check on the administrators' condition, he was met with a flood of praise.
"The number of useless reports has dropped dramatically! We were drowning in ridiculous requests we couldn't even make heads or tails of—it took ages just to filter those out!"
"I checked the documents she screened out just in case, and all the important ones were perfectly sorted separately."
"Seems a truly capable person has joined us. I'd like to groom her as my successor—would you assign her under my supervision?"
"…I'll think about it."
Lucian brushed the matter off vaguely, then summoned Colin separately.
"Does a mage's education include understanding territorial administration? Could you handle territorial affairs like that?"
"How could that be possible!? I'm the most shocked one here! I never imagined Helen had abilities like that!"
"You said you were from the same faction."
"The faction is the same, but what we studied was completely different! Our master even said that someone who hasn't fully matured yet would tear himself apart trying to learn both, so I never even thought of dabbling in it!"
In short, even Colin—her senior brother—had no idea what Helen had actually learned.
After another month passed, Lucian summoned Helen once more.
A mere fortune-teller who talked big about becoming an advisor would be one thing—but someone who had proven herself to this extent was worth hearing out properly.
"There's something I want to ask. As far as I know, the route beyond the snowfields is so harsh that crossing it without sacrifice is impossible."
"That is correct. Because it has grown even colder than before, now only a handful of mages can temporarily open a path and pass through at all."
"Then how am I supposed to cross such snowfields? Even if I manage it myself, it would be meaningless if those tribes can't follow me back to Asagrim."
At Lucian's question, Helen replied with a smile.
"It's simple. You only need to obtain a dragon's heart."
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