Vote for Your Knight! - Chapter 2

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Vote for your knight!
Chapter 2
‘Of course, even if they were commoners, it wouldn’t be easy for me to trust blindly.’
Still, the criticisms the people voiced were ones I could understand.
The nobility, however, was utterly obstinate.
Especially Mongcho, a count my own age, mocked me outright.
“The people of this nation lack the national character for unity. Perhaps I should donate funds for the Imperial Princess’s little game instead, and we can abandon Kartamen altogether.”
He’d always been competitive with me simply because we were the same age.
I let his insults slide.
‘But to disparage our own people like that!’
I was furious, but I swallowed it and offered only a light reply.
“Coming from someone who’s itching to exploit such ‘inferior’ people, that rings rather hollow. And…”
“?”
“A donation? From someone buried under mountains of debt from extravagance?”
I made myself a promise.
‘I’ll make Kartamen succeed, right in front of them all.’
Wipe those smug smiles off the faces of nobles who look down on the common folk!
But despite that resolve, Kartamen hit rough waters from the start.
“My dear, I have some sad news and, well, more sad news. Which would you like to hear first?”
“They’re both sad news. Just tell me whichever one comes to mind.”
“The first is that when I sent messengers to the ‘capable ones’ you named, proposing their participation in Kartamen, they wouldn’t budge an inch.”
“And the other sad news?”
“Worse—the messengers didn’t even get to meet them. They were turned away at the door. Poor fellows, my courtiers.”
“Turned away at the door, you say?”
I fell into thought.
Father seemed to sense something ominous and flinched slightly.
“Daughter, you don’t mean to…?”
“Would they dare turn away an Imperial Princess?”
I looked up at him with a gentle smile.
‘I’ve done so much street-level casting in my past life that this feels second nature!’
As I’ve already revealed, in my previous life I was an assistant producer who had planned the survival program “Idol Paradise.”
“Idol Paradise” too had struggled to find contestants at first.
‘The season two of an already-successful idol survival show was scheduled for the same time slot, after all.’
So we hustled.
I cast rough diamonds with my own two feet, pounding the pavement.
We made the story melodramatic and the editing sensational to captivate Korean viewers.
We never forgot to showcase the contestants’ talents and charm.
We made every effort to respect their dreams and hard work.
Because of that, “Idol Paradise” recorded the highest viewership ratings that year.
It swept both the Producer Award and Best Work at various broadcasting awards.
Of course, someone else stole those awards from me.
‘I thought it was a memory I never wanted to revisit, but look—it’s turning out to be incredibly useful.’
The sudden decision to hold Kartamen came precisely because of my experience producing “Idol Paradise.”
In my past life, the “Idol Paradise” craze bordered on religious fervor.
There was even a meme about how strangers would bond the moment one brought up their favorite contestant from the show.
So if I adapted this concept, it could be effective in gathering the people’s hearts as well.
A shared theme would create common ground.
Besides, the Empire currently lacked significant entertainment for the people to enjoy.
‘At best, a few festivals scattered throughout the year.’
If I held Kartamen in such circumstances, it would captivate the people’s eyes and ears.
I wanted to comfort the hearts of the people, worn down by the tyrant’s oppression, even if only a little.
‘A plan crafted by pouring every memory and technique from my past life into it. Truly, a competition built by grinding my soul into it.’
In this life, I would make the competition a success under my own name.
For my father, for the people, and for myself—no matter what.
‘Though there is one rather serious problem!’
The fact that we had received applications from only a few dozen people so far.
And most of them were far too lacking to become proper knights.
Even if the god of broadcasting descended, this would end in failure.
You can add spice to slightly damaged ingredients and make a presentable dish.
But with rotten ingredients, no matter how hard you try, the dish will spoil.
In other words, we need decent participants.
Even if they fall a bit short, as long as they show growth potential.
‘It’d be even better if they were fully formed from the start.’
Of course, if someone like that wanted to compete in the knightly tournament, they would have already submitted their entry.
‘I’ve had my eye on several candidates, but most of them haven’t applied.’
Participation was supposed to be voluntary, yet not a single one of them has shown their face.
They were the people we absolutely needed for the tournament to draw a crowd.
Whether they made it into the final five was up to their own efforts, though.
“But surely Dmitri Kasell isn’t competing in the tournament, is he?”
At that moment, a hostile voice cut through the crowd.
Dmitri Kasell.
A familiar name.
Familiar enough that he was following right beside me at this very moment, face concealed.
He was a knight of the Imperial Palace, and today he’d come along as my guard.
My father had tried to dissuade me, but I’d insisted.
“I really must go with him.”
I’d planned to move quietly.
Which meant keeping my guard detail to an absolute minimum.
Dmitri Kasell was perfect for that.
He had the skill to protect me even alone.
Of course, Father’s objections had their merits too.
Dmitri was the Empire’s official scapegoat.
The sole survivor of the Bloodbath instigated by the tyrant who chose to accept becoming that tyrant’s knight.
That was Dmitri Kasell.
‘The people cursed him as a malevolent spirit who trampled blood beneath his feet to revel in wealth and glory.’
Yet from what I’d seen as an imperial princess, he’d never enjoyed either wealth or glory.
He had no savings, and devoted himself entirely to his duties as a knight.
‘Above all, it was Dmitri who opened the Imperial Palace gates during the Revolution.’
Of course, the popular opinion was that he’d switched sides like a bat once he sensed victory tilting toward us.
I tugged at Dmitri’s sleeve.
“Come on, we’re running late.”
If we lingered much longer, Dmitri might hear even worse abuse——
“Surely they’re not actually putting that traitor, who’s worse than a mad insect, in the tournament?”
——he heard it anyway.
I glanced up at Dmitri.
Above his pale, cold skin—like snow covering a silent land—his jewel-like crimson eyes gleamed with indifference.
I could easily picture what lay beneath the robe covering the rest of his face.
Silver hair as cold as a frozen river.
A nose as sharp as a knife-edge.
Yes.
He was the Empire’s scapegoat, but undeniably beautiful.
With looks like those, a little cursing shouldn’t bother him at all.
“You brought me along to be cursed and repent, then.”
—or so I’d thought.
I shrugged.
“You’re not the type to repent, are you.”
“I don’t regret my decision. So if I may step back now——”
“Sir Dmitri, I didn’t bring you as my guard because I thought you were someone who’d repent, or because I imagined you were secretly a good person.”
At those words, Dmitri’s eyes widened.
I smiled slightly and continued.
“I brought you because you’re the best fighter in the Imperial Palace. And when the Revolution succeeded, my arguing that we shouldn’t execute you came from the same reasoning.”
……
“If you understand, stop with the useless talk and focus on protecting me.”
“……Yes.”
Dmitri bowed his head.
I watched him closely.
‘Just keeping his eyes lowered makes him look so forlorn.’
I’d caught a glimpse during practice—even when he wielded his sword, there was something sorrowful about him.
By web novel standards, he was the wounded male lead, or at the very least a secondary male character of the highest tier.
If Dmitri just entered the knightly tournament, it would be a massive hit.
‘Of course, the people would react to this in quite a different way.’
Back in my PD days, I would’ve loved the attention—the drama, the controversy.
But now I had to move carefully, reading the pulse of the realm.
I swallowed my disappointment and spoke.
“Let’s go. The Lord of Pius must be waiting with his neck out.”
Pius was a southern domain with a port.
Its lord was a young nobleman who had participated actively in the Revolution.
He’d earned the title of Lord of Pius for his service.
‘He fought well enough against the tyrant’s soldiers back then.’
No glaring peculiarities, but he had solid skills.
‘Even if the tournament is supposed to be about character and narrative, ultimately it comes down to ability.’
The real problem was that since his appointment as Lord of Pius, he’d rarely bothered to appear before the Emperor.
‘He skipped the last council meeting too, claiming he had to deal with pirates.’
Why did those blasted pirates always show up whenever my father called?
‘There’s nothing for it. The desperate have to dig their own wells.’
Dmitri Kasell and I mounted horses and rode toward Pius.
They were fast, sturdy beasts, raised on feed cultivated with Mana Stone Energy.
“Remarkable. Normally, these horses would be exhausted by now.”
Dmitri Kasell, whom I’d taken for a man of silence and contemplation, finally opened his mouth.
“The feed was crafted using Alchemy by you, Your Highness, was it not?”
“Yes, well, something like that.”
I felt pride swell in my chest, but I shrugged as if it were nothing.
As the fortress walls of Pius drew closer, Dmitri Kasell nodded thoughtfully.
“You seem to craft all manner of things through Alchemy.”

Wait—shouldn’t there be a compliment somewhere in that statement?
‘Maybe he’s not a traitor at all. Maybe he’s just naturally disagreeable.’
I grumbled inwardly as we arrived at the fortress gates of Pius.
Thanks to our swift horses, we’d covered a two-day journey in half a day.
A glance at the Imperial seal got us through the gates without delay.
The trouble started when we reached the lord’s castle.
“The lord is absent?”
He had left his post.
“But I sent word of my visit. Surely he received my letter?”
I turned to the steward.
The steward replied without a hint of apology.
“We received it, Your Highness, but an urgent matter arose, and His Lordship was forced to depart on short notice.”
“An urgent matter?”
“He had to execute a man who’d been collaborating with pirates.”
The steward’s face grew grave, as though he were trying to intimidate me.
“Since Pius is a port district, we deal harshly with those in league with pirates. The condemned are bound to a large wheel, their limbs shattered with hammers, and then drowned. It would be far too gruesome for a delicate princess like yourself to witness——”
“Then I can meet the lord at the execution ground, can’t I? Take me there.”
“Y-Your Highness! N-no, that won’t do!”
I gazed at the flustered steward and smiled sweetly.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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