A waterfowl takes flight from the reeds.
Somewhere, a white fox cried out in frustration. Whether it was because its prey had escaped or for some other reason, was unclear.
Of the three who had fallen silent, it was Godhart who spoke first.
“What about the venue? We also have to consider security.”
“We’ve already reserved several of the best lodging options under the name of the Council. It doesn’t matter which one is chosen.”
“Several?”
Reinhold couldn’t help but ask, even though he thought it was a foolish question. He felt the need to know every little detail about this matter.
“It’s a matter of security. If there are multiple venues, it will serve as a smokescreen.”
Godhart replied, his tone sober as if he had sobered up.
“Godhart is right. We must be very strict with security this time.”
“Is there a possibility that someone will try to target them?”
“Reinhold, think about it. His Majesty the Emperor has no direct heir. If he doesn’t marry, there will be an electoral election in a few decades. There must be a lot of qualified candidates who want to put their children or grandchildren up for election.”
“That’s not all. The Eastern Kingdom is not a monolith, so the Strange Tales Investigation Envoy will likely be dispatched. Also, the <Cloak and Dagger> of the United Kingdom, and the <Long Hand of the Pontiff> of the Holy Kingdom.”
The names Marcel mentioned in all seriousness were usually taken as jokes. They were certainly not something to be discussed openly and seriously in a public setting.
“Aren’t those just rumors? Like something out of a knight’s tale?”
“Well, there’s no such thing as being too prepared.”
Whether he was dodging the question or agreeing with Reinhold, Godhart forcefully brought the conversation to a close. A nagging feeling remained in Reinhold’s chest, but he knew it was pointless to ask further.
“In any case, we must proceed with preparations. We will have to inform the Council eventually.”
“As the saying goes, ‘Rumors and the flow of the Belfrau cannot be dammed.’”
Godhart, who was surprisingly well-versed in literature, quoted a line from Disterweg, and Reinhold and Marcel couldn’t help but nod in agreement. For the time being, they would have to work with trusted members of the Council, excluding the former Backeshoff faction.
“Eleonora, Gernot, Holger, and Lorenz, I suppose.”
“I’m not thrilled about it, but we’ll have to include Nornhausen and Keppen to form a majority.”
“Wouldn’t it be best to inform young Master Arnu as well?”
Thinking of the council members he was counting on his fingers, Reinhold inevitably remembered Tavern Nobu. It might have been a coincidence, but he wondered if that place had some kind of magic that attracted good encounters.
As he thought about this, Reinhold’s stomach growled.
“…Excuse me.”
“No, it’s good to be young. But we have nothing to eat here.”
Marcel looked thoughtful, but Godhart grinned.
“I’ve come prepared for this.”
He pulled out a large basket woven from reeds from behind him and placed its contents on the bottom of the boat.
“I asked Tavern Nobu to make us some bentos.”
“Tavern Nobu?”
Marcel’s expression was sullen, probably because he hadn’t been able to go to Nobu lately.
Since the incident at the Grand Market, Marcel had become incredibly busy and was unable to drink freely. Considering that his predecessor, Backeshoff, had lived a life of excessive luxury, Marcel was quite serious.
Laid out in front of them were onigiri. Reinhold had eaten yaki-onigiri at Nobu a few times before. The location of the secret meeting quickly became a late luncheon.
“So, it’s rice pressed together?”
“You know about rice, Marcel-san?”
Marcel held the onigiri in both hands, as if to check its weight, and his expression was one Reinhold had never seen before.
“I may look like this, but since becoming chairman of the Council, I’ve been overseeing all the logistics of the old capital. I’ve also received a report that the Eisenschmidt Company has started handling Sasanishiki rice.”
“You’re very diligent. That’s unthinkable for the former chairman, Backeshoff.”
“You say that, Godhart-san, but I think this is how a chairman should be.”
Marcel muttered this, perhaps to hide his embarrassment or in self-deprecation, and took a bite of the onigiri. As he ate more, his eyes widened.
“Hey, there’s something inside.”
“Of course. It’s not just plain rice.”
Godhart laughed heartily, as if he had given the instructions himself. Reinhold took a bite of his own and found salmon inside. It was well-salted and very delicious.
He had wondered about cold rice before eating, but once he started, he found it surprisingly tasty.
“What is this? It’s spicy but delicious.”
“Ah, that’s mentaiko. It’s good as a snack with drinks, but it goes well with onigiri too, doesn’t it?”
Marcel and Godhart, both grown men, were delighted like children by the onigiri fillings.
Reinhold shared the onigiri with the boatman and also tried the side dishes.
There was tamagoyaki and small sausages.
The tamagoyaki was slightly sweet, as if it had sugar in it.
He thought a sweet egg might be strange for a meal, but the onigiri fillings were strongly flavored, so it created a surprisingly good balance.
The sausages seemed to have been lightly fried, and they also went well with the onigiri. He felt like he could eat any number of them.
He figured Taisho, the chef at that shop, probably planned the entire flavor composition, deciding what to put in the onigiri. It was quite impressive.
He wondered if he could arrange to have the Emperor and the Princess Regent’s meeting at Tavern Nobu.
Reinhold was unable to voice this outlandish idea.