A Flat-Chest Believer Reincarnated in a World Where Women with Small Breasts Aren't Treated as Women ~ I Ended Up with a Flat-Chested Harem. - Chapter 54

After finishing his explanation, Father left the room.

“Hey, Folca.”

Risty called my name. Her tone was slightly cold. When I turned to look at her, she was smiling.

It was a fabricated smile, the kind where she consciously lifted the corners of her mouth.

I began to feel uneasy, wondering what might have happened.

“What is it, Risty?”

Our eyes met. Her blue irises gleamed sharply. She was suspicious. She might have half-guessed my ambition.

This was bad. I had to handle it somehow.

Stay calm, Folca Gles Gustique. I told myself. I was the youngest recipient of the title “Gles the Brave,” awarded for significant achievements in war. I’d sparred countless times with the Manjula faction in noble society.

This wasn’t such a major crisis.

All I needed was one good excuse.

After all, weddings are exhausting events, and holding two would obviously double the burden. Preferring to avoid that wasn’t unnatural.

Also, if the ceremonies were held on separate days, the guest lists might differ. Wouldn’t it be awkward if one had more attendees than the other? Wishing for one unified ceremony was perfectly reasonable.

I just needed to compose myself and explain this logically, as though it were the most natural conclusion――

My body moved on its own. I stood up, stepped half a pace to the side of my chair, bent my knees, knelt on the floor, lowered my hips, aligned my feet, and sat in seiza. Then, I bent forward, pressed my hands to the floor, and bowed my head.

“I’m sorry. I was hoping that if the ceremony was held in one go, both would share the first night, and I might be able to lead it into a threesome.”

I had never practiced such a movement in my life. Yet my dogeza was flawless. My center of gravity was perfectly balanced, and my motions were fluid and efficient.

I couldn’t lie to Risty. She would likely see through it anyway.

“Oh, really… Well, I appreciate your honesty. It’s true, if there are two of them, they could… sandwich you.”

Sandwich me? What did she mean by that? Think, Folca. Risty had omitted the subject of the verb “sandwich.” Subject omission usually occurs when the subject is either obvious or when it’s something obscene being intentionally veiled. In other words…

I see. You can’t sandwich a carrot with just one cutting board. But with two cutting boards? Yes, you can sandwich it. It’s basic logic.

“I hear men like that sort of thing.”

In this world where most men are followers of large breasts, it seems many enjoy the act of sandwiching. I’m aware of that too. But what the men of this world like isn’t exactly that. They like it because they can feel the size, not because of the pressure from both sides. Besides, I am a devout believer of small breasts.

“Um, Risty…”

“When it comes to not showing favoritism or ranking between the sisters, I think having them together is a good idea. But as the primary wife, I can’t lose.”

Risty started saying something strange. This wasn’t a game of Othello; there was no winning by sandwiching.

…Come to think of it, this girl is descended from King Coorm.

“So, Rita.”

“Y-Yes?”

Rita’s name was suddenly called, and she responded in a startled voice.

“When the timing is stable for you, let’s sandwich him first.”

Yep. I could feel King Coorm’s bloodline in her.

◇◇ ◆ ◇◇

Setting aside Risty’s display of King Coorm’s tendencies, the preparations for the wedding progressed steadily amidst the hustle and bustle.

First, the response from the royal family was, as expected, “We’ll attend.” While His Majesty Leogalza wouldn’t be coming, the First Prince, Kefin, was confirmed to attend. However, he would only be present for the ceremony, with no royal family members attending the evening party.

In any case, this solidified the invitation of the Founding Six families. Invitations had already been sent out.

Muzuri, the steward, had been sent to the royal capital. Father delegated almost all authority regarding the ceremony to him.

It must have been a challenging job. Even if the ceremony had been held in Remilba, there would have been logistical tasks like securing accommodations. Still, the sheer workload was undeniably greater with a capital wedding. I felt genuinely sorry for making him go through this for the sake of my ambition.

That said, holding a concubine’s wedding at the great cathedral was already highly unusual, so there was no need for anything overly elaborate beyond that. Preparations had been quietly underway ever since the engagement had been finalized, so it should work out.

Meanwhile, my own workload had increased to cover for Muzuri’s absence. Drawing on my former office-worker experience, I tackled it methodically.

Day by day, time passed. Risty’s belly had grown significantly, making it obvious from a distance that she was pregnant. Rita’s belly had also started to show.

I had picked up a new daily routine: talking to Risty’s belly, saying things like, “It’s your father! Are you doing well in there?” as Risty watched me with a warm smile. It was an important task.

As the wedding day drew closer, we set out for the royal capital. Once again, it was a journey by carriage.

The temperature was much colder, but with fire magic, staying warm was easy. All it took was heating water in a small barrel to make hot water.

I crammed Risty, Rita, and even Mariel into the special carriage, and off we went. This time, we made the journey in just two days, changing horses along the way and only stopping for one overnight stay.

◇◇ ◆ ◇◇

“Lord and Lady Gustique, Lord Folca, Lady Risty, we’ve been expecting you.”

When we arrived at the Gustique estate in the royal capital, Muzuri had bags under his eyes. Those dark circles were my fault—I would carry that guilt with me.

“I have a report. Prince Kefin of the royal family is still confirmed to attend. As for the Founding Six families…”

Muzuri continued his explanation.

From the Manjula Dukedom, Vidal would attend. From the Famagusta Dukedom, Lord Moses. From the Domeia Dukedom, the duke himself and his daughter, Lady Ghislaine. Brother Al was also confirmed to attend. The guest list largely followed the pattern of sending representatives of the next generation, in line with the royal family’s participation.

Incidentally, Lady Ghislaine was Prince Kefin’s fiancée.

Still, Vidal Manjula… you don’t have to come.

“As for the evening party, only three representatives from the Founding Six families will attend: Lord Vidal, Duke Domeia, and Lord Alvy.”

…So Vidal intends to attend the evening party as well. He’s got guts, I’ll give him that. It’s practically a solo infiltration into enemy territory.

As for the guests outside the Founding Six families, the attendance seemed decent. It appeared to be a manageable number.

“One more thing—a separate matter. The royal family has secretly provided intelligence. Based on information from Duke Manjula, the royal counterintelligence unit has captured several individuals suspected of being spies for the Kingdom of Griffis. The Gustique family is also advised to remain vigilant against espionage.”

A troubling development. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy.