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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Invitation to Fate's Red Thread
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"Brother, congratulations."
I said it with all sincerity.
It was genuine.
Raon de Valentine.
Eldest son of the Northern Grand Duke, hailed as the empire's greatest prodigy.
Today, he had been officially recognized as the next Grand Duke of the North.
Of course, with Father still going strong, it wasn't like he'd inherit right away—but that was just a matter of time, wasn't it?
Brother set down his sword and looked at me.
His silver hair fluttered in the wind.
The frigid northern air brushed past my nose.
Ah, cold.
"Kasian."
"Yes, Brother."
"Do you really have no thoughts on the matter?"
Brother's eyes pierced right through me.
Sharp, chilling—like the gaze of a northern wolf.
I nodded.
"I truly have none at all."
It was sincere.
The North?
No interest whatsoever.
Northern Grand Duke?
Not even a little.
I just wanted to buy a house in the warm, sunny capital, live out my days as a total layabout, and kick the bucket.
No burning desire to achieve greatness.
No noble urge to protect anyone.
Nothing lofty like that. Absolutely nothing.
"...I see. If that's your will."
Brother didn't press further.
If anything, the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch upward just a bit.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The first time I opened my eyes in this body, I despaired.
Who wouldn't?
A run-of-the-mill modern guy suddenly waking up as a noble kid in a medieval fantasy world.
In the North, no less.
The empire's coldest, harshest land, where winter lasted eight months out of the year.
It was enough to drive anyone mad.
But as time passed, I came to realize something.
'Eh, not so bad.'
No matter how dead last the North ranked in the empire, I was still the Northern Grand Duke's son.
Food, clothes, bedding—all top-tier.
And more than anything...
Every time I glanced in the mirror, it hit me.
This face.
Insanely handsome.
Silver hair and piercing blue eyes.
Sharp, wolfish features.
Nothing like my previous life, where I'd never even dreamed of looks like these.
This was one thing I genuinely loved.
Handsome enough to coast through life on my looks alone.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
That evening, a delegation arrived at the Northern Grand Duchy.
Sent by the imperial family.
"They say the empire's launching some new venture these days," the butler explained.
"A live broadcast program using the magic communication network 'Ethernet.' The name's... 'Fate's Red Thread.'"
"'Fate's Red Thread'?"
Brother's voice carried a note of suspicion.
"Nobles from various regions appear to form romantic bonds... or something along those lines. They're just formally asking if the North wants to participate."
The butler's tone dripped with the unspoken implication: No way we'd go for that.
The North was a land of swords and war. Common sense said we'd have zero interest in a dating show.
But.
I was different.
Dating show.
Filmed in the capital.
Appearance fee.
Warm capital.
Warm capital.
Warm capital.
This was it.
I made up my mind on the spot.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Brother."
"What is it, Kasian?"
Brother was polishing his sword.
A massive greatsword, the kind northern knights wielded. Spotless and gleaming—not a speck of blood. Probably ceremonial.
"I'm going on that program."
"...What?"
His hand froze.
"'Fate's Red Thread.' The one in the capital."
"..."
Brother looked at me.
A flicker of complex emotions crossed his eyes.
Bewilderment.
Disbelief.
And then.
"...Fine."
He nodded slowly.
"If that's your will."
Brother set the sword aside.
"But."
He stood.
"Just one question."
He stepped right up to me.
We brothers were about the same height.
Our eyes level.
"What do you plan to do in the capital?"
"Just show my face and come back."
"...That's all?"
His voice dropped low.
"You're not trying to break into the central social scene?"
Ah.
So that's what he was worried about.
I got it.
The North was the boonies.
The empire's politics revolved around the capital.
If I built connections there, allied with central nobles, carved out a spot in high society?
I could end up with an edge over Brother, whose power base was solely in the North.
He was on guard against that.
Wary his little brother might expand into the center.
Or be plotting a backstab.
Brother was nothing if not thorough.
Even a hint of a threat to his future Grand Duchy seat?
My life would be over on the spot.
Never mind how many of my siblings had already met mysterious ends.
"Brother."
I chuckled.
"Do you even know what kind of event this is?"
"...An imperial social gathering, I heard."
"Social gathering?"
I shrugged.
"In the capital, they call it a 'dating variety show.'"
"...Variety?"
His eyebrow twitched.
A new term for a northerner, apparently.
"It's the latest trend in the capital. Live broadcasts via crystal orbs where you watch men and women meet up. In one word: romance peeping entertainment."
"..."
Brother's expression twisted subtly.
Unthinkable culture in the North, land of the sword.
"Know who goes on it? Ducal heirs? Nope. Marquis eldest sons? Nope. It's the third and fourth sons. The ones who don't even make the cut for political marriages."
Brother's eyes narrowed.
He stared me down, piercing.
Searching for any lie.
"What would I become if I went?"
I shrugged again.
"The North's second son, filming some dating peep show in the capital. Political ambitions? None. Just a lazy good-for-nothing loafer. That's what everyone would think."
Silence fell.
Brother stared at me.
For a long while.
Ages.
"...So you want to go."
"Yes."
I answered evenly.
"I truly, honestly have zero interest in some Northern Grand Duke nonsense. I'd rather lounge in the warm capital munching bread than deal with cold politics and headaches."
It was sincere.
Brother's eyes quivered ever so slightly.
And then.
"...Fine."
His gaze softened.
The wolf's eyes turned back to a brother's.
No—not just softened. He was smiling.
A expression I'd never seen.
"If that's your will, I won't stand in your way."
His voice grew gentle.
No lectures.
No words of worry.
Just a calm send-off.
Perfect.
Now I could head to the capital and have my fun worry-free.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The day before departure.
I packed.
Not much to pack, really.
A few changes of clothes, toiletries. And a list of capital hot spots.
The butler had pulled this together for me in advance.
'Empire Capital's Top 3 Bakeries.'
'Steak Houses Recommended by Locals.'
'Best 5 Brunch Cafes Near the Palace.'
My heart raced just reading it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Departure morning.
Brother stood before the carriage.
Alone.
No grand send-off.
No ranks of knights.
Just Brother, standing there calmly by himself.
"I'll be off, Brother."
"Yeah."
He nodded.
"Have fun."
That was it.
No nagging.
No fretting.
No 'Don't besmirch the Valentine name' lecture.
Just.
Have fun.
...Nice and easy.
This felt right.
I climbed into the carriage. Just before the door shut, Brother added one more thing.
"Safe travels."
"Yes, Brother."
The door closed.
As the carriage lurched into motion, I caught sight of him through the window.
He raised a hand in a light wave.
I waved back.
His figure shrank smaller and smaller.
Soon out of sight.
He's probably dead to me now.
Good riddance.
We were both better off this way.
Brother could focus on the Grand Duchy seat, and I could play in the capital.
Perfect division of labor.
The northern snowscape stretched endlessly outside—white, cold, infinite.
I pulled the food list from my pocket.
'Empire Capital's Top 3 Bakeries.'
First up.
'Le Maison de Pain.'
Imperial supplier. Croissants are to die for, apparently.
My mouth watered.
No decent bakeries in the North.
Bread? Potatoes.
Potatoes? More potatoes.
Fuck.
That was the North.
But not anymore.
Warm capital.
Tasty bread.
Appearance fee.
Sell my face moderately, then retire quietly.
Perfect plan.
I closed my eyes contentedly.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Three days later.
The capital at first sight was dazzling.
White marble buildings, broad avenues. Bustling crowds.
And above all.
Warm.
Spring sunlight tickled my skin.
Warmth unimaginable in the North.
This was it.
This was what I wanted.
I stepped down from the carriage and drew a deep breath of capital air.
Sweet floral scents mingled with the aroma of baking bread.
"...Nice."
I muttered without thinking.
I want to live here.
No.
I will live here.
Dating show?
Just phone it in.
Collect the fee.
Build some loose connections.
Retire quietly.
Buy a house in the capital.
Live as a layabout till I die.
End.
Perfect.
I started walking. Filming started tomorrow. Today was free time.
Obviously.
Food spots first.
'Le Maison de Pain.'
Imperial bakery.
Checked the map. Ten minutes on foot.
Good.
I quickened my pace.
The capital's streets were nothing like the North's.
Gorgeous.
Flashy clothes, flashy buildings, flashy street decorations.
Coming from the North, I'd stand out for sure.
Black coat, simple gear, that signature northern chill.
But whatever.
Tomorrow I'd be in front of the cameras anyway—everyone would know then.
Arrived at the bakery.
'Le Maison de Pain.'
Breads galore through the glass window.
Croissants. Baguettes. Brioche. All kinds.
Mouth watering.
Pushed open the door, and the baking smell wrapped around me.
Nutty, sweet, warm.
This.
This was civilization.
"Welcome..."
The clerk spotted me and trailed off.
"...sir?"
Her face flushed red.
"Um, what can I get you?"
"One croissant."
"Y-yes! Right away!"
She fumbled to grab one. Hands shaking.
Odd girl.
Took the warm pastry.
Bit in.
Crunch.
Butter flavor exploded in my mouth.
...Insane.
So this is bread.
What the hell had I been eating in the North? That wasn't bread.
Lost in bliss, I took a second bite.
And so.
My first day in the capital began.
Filming tomorrow.
'Fate's Red Thread.'
The empire-wide live dating variety show.
Honestly, no big expectations.
Just a bunch of nobodies playing at romance.
Sell my face a bit.
Grab the fee.
Slip out quietly.
That was the plan.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Next morning.
Headed to the studio.
Even from afar, it screamed extravagance.
...The capital really was on another level.
Got directed at the entrance.
"Young Master Valentine, right this way."
The guide led me along.
Down a hallway.
Through a garden.
Another hallway.
How massive was this place?
"Right here."
Stopped at a door.
'Waiting Room' labeled on it.
"Please wait inside. Orientation starts soon."
"Thanks."
Opened and entered.
Spacious lounge.
Several sofas scattered about.
Sunlight streamed through the windows.
Warm.
Nice.
Capital life was the best.
Sank into a sofa.
Something on the table.
A stack of papers.
'Fate's Red Thread Participant Guide.'
Bored, might as well flip through.
Picked it up.
First page: schedule.
Day 1: First Encounters.
Day 2: 1:1 Dates.
Day 3: Group Missions.
...Pretty standard.
Next page.
'Program Rules.'
1. No violence between participants.
2. Magic use restricted during filming.
3. No weapons allowed.
Obvious stuff.
Flipped again.
'Participant List.'
Here we go.
Wonder who signed up.
Third and fourth sons, probably.
The rejects not even on political marriage radars.
Guys like me with loafer vibes.
Should be easy to coast through.
Skimmed the male participants lightly.
'Kasian de Valentine - Second Son of the Northern Grand Ducal Family.'
Me.
A string of names below.
'Leon von Kreutz - Third Son of the Eastern Count Family.'
'Marcus el Zion - Second Son of the Central Viscount Family.'
'...'
Yeah, about what I expected.
Count's third son.
Viscount's second.
Spare heirs from nothing families.
Just like me.
Cool.
Should be a chill time.
Nodded, satisfied, and turned the page.
Female participants.
'Irene la Imperia - First Imperial Princess.'
...
...What?
Rubbed my eyes.
Looked again.
'Irene la Imperia - First Imperial Princess.'
Same.
First Imperial Princess?
The empire's First Princess?
That one?
...Why?
My heart started pounding.
Hold on.
Stay calm.
Could be a typo.
Checked the next line.
'Elysia von Arcana - Daughter of the Tower Lord.'
...
Tower Lord.
The empire's 9th-circle archmage.
His daughter?
My hands began to shake.
Next.
'Serena el Lumina - Saintess of the Great Temple.'
...
Saintess.
The one blessed by the gods.
The empire's holiest figure.
Her? Here?
Why?
Next.
'Lirian de Goldwin - Lady of the Goldwin Merchant Guild.'
Goldwin Merchant Guild.
The empire's mega-conglomerate.
Controllers of 30% of the continent's economy.
Their daughter?
I dropped the papers.
No— they slipped from my hands.
Scattered across the floor.
No thought of picking them up.
"...What the hell is this?"
This was bad.
Really, really bad.
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