"Werner Chartra, I greet His Majesty the Emperor."
"Come in."
When Werner offered a polite bow, the young Emperor replied with barely disguised displeasure.
Even though the Emperor’s distaste was obvious, Werner maintained perfect decorum.
"Have you heard from the other Dukes?"
"Not yet."
"I see."
The Emperor made no effort to hide his disappointment.
It had already been several days since the Chartra Family had entered the Imperial Capital.
There was no way the other Dukes were unaware of what it meant for Chartra to march his forces into the city.
And yet, the fact that the remaining six Dukes hadn’t responded at all—it didn’t make sense.
Unless… were all the Dukes in on it together?
"Have you given thought to my proposal, Your Majesty?"
"Oh, that? Well, I’m not entirely sure yet…"
The Emperor trailed off.
From the moment Werner entered the palace and met him, he had asked for authorization to root out the corrupt bureaucrats and nobles—but the Emperor kept dodging a response.
"I understand this is a matter that requires deep thought. However, the longer we delay, the deeper the rot will grow. Please, Your Majesty, make a bold decision."
Werner bowed his head with earnest sincerity.
The Emperor stroked his chin as if contemplating.
But in truth, the decision had already been made—it was a refusal.
Granting a Duke that kind of power could have unforeseeable consequences.
Even if it were a loyalist faction—no, especially because they were loyalists—it was all the more dangerous.
He just lacked the courage to reject Werner to his face.
"Many no longer work for Your Majesty but for themselves—or even foreign powers. If left unchecked, it could reach a point of no return."
"I understand, but surely we must weigh many aspects."
Werner barely held himself back from demanding what exactly the Emperor was weighing.
It seemed today too, he wouldn’t get a proper answer.
"Let’s set aside the difficult matters. How’s the preparation for the celebration coming?"
"I’ve spoken to the Imperial steward. It’s scheduled, as Your Majesty requested, for the first day of next month."
"Lord Chartra went through great effort to visit us—let’s make the event grand. It’ll draw a lot of attention."
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"I’ll give you an answer to your proposal at the celebration. Wouldn’t it be more impactful to announce it publicly, in front of everyone?"
"…Your considerate gesture leaves me speechless."
Whether it was satisfaction at Werner’s answer or discomfort at facing a Duke further, the Emperor stood up first.
Werner watched the Emperor leave the reception room and let out a quiet sigh.
He had already realized why the Emperor kept stalling.
Suspicion was understandable.
But there wasn’t time.
Thanks to Valheit’s maneuvering, the other Dukes were still silent—but who knew how long that would last?
Worse than the Dukes were the traitors colluding with foreign powers.
They likely began preparing their countermeasures the moment Werner entered the capital.
The longer they delayed, the higher the risk they’d slip away—or retaliate.
Was Count Valheit right all along?
Valheit was by no means a clean man, but he had long served as the Imperial Family’s advisor.
His insight was sharp.
Werner hadn’t completely abandoned hope in the Emperor.
But the longer he remained in the capital, the more drawn he felt to the alternative Valheit had brought.
Let’s wait until the celebration. If there’s still no change by then…
Even thinking it was treasonous, he might have to seriously consider Valheit’s plan.
***
"The celebration has been set for the first day of next month."
"Not bad. I expected it to be sooner."
"His Majesty chose the date himself."
Whatever the reason, it bought us a few extra days. No reason to complain.
"And what did Lord Werner Chartra say?"
"Father said he’ll wait until the celebration."
"Such patience."
Joseph briefly frowned at my sarcasm, but quickly returned to his usual stoic expression.
"How are preparations going, Count?"
"Smoothly. The Border Guard units assigned to security aren’t large in number and have little interest in protecting the Chancellor. There shouldn’t be a problem. However…"
"However…?"
Joseph took the bait perfectly.
I furrowed my brow and let out a heavy sigh.
"There are troubling signs among the Demons."
At the mention of the Demon Tribe, Joseph’s tone sharpened slightly.
Bingo. Til was right—he reacts to Demon talk.
She said that just bringing them up would make Joseph fall into step.
"They say they even raided the market district last time. No one knows where they came from, but their numbers have surged recently."
"Demons are a menace wherever they go, it seems."
Joseph revealed uncharacteristically strong disdain.
I nodded in exaggerated agreement.
"This isn’t a vague problem. Word has started to spread among the Demons that a high-profile individual is staying at the villa."
"How do you know that?"
"I got help from our businessman friend, Cesare."
I invoked Cesare’s name immediately.
At its mention, Joseph nodded in acceptance.
No need to reveal that it was actually Til who went blabbing about it excitedly.
"Which brings me to a request, Mr. Joseph."
"Go ahead."
"Would you join the plan as Blaiher’s escort?"
This was Til’s idea.
When she said she wanted to pit Noah against her brother, I thought she was insane.
‘I taught him, so he should be able to handle that much. If it looks bad, I’ll step in.’
She was so confident, I ended up agreeing.
I was curious about Noah’s current skill level anyway.
"It would be reassuring to have a trustworthy person accompany Blaiher, given he’s an illegitimate child. I’m already at odds with the Chancellor, and Til… well, you know her reputation."
It wasn’t just about putting them in a fight.
Joseph was the right person to reassure and recruit the Chancellor.
Originally, I planned to have Til handle it—but her runaway reputation wasn’t well received among nobles.
The second son of Chartra was far more suitable in that regard.
"Understood. I was feeling uneasy about sending him alone anyway."
"You’ve grown fond of him, haven’t you?"
"He’s a fine prospect—both as a fellow student and as a Chartra. I must admit, Count, your judgment is commendable."
That was the kind of evaluation a potential Emperor should receive.
Entrusting Blaiher to the Chartra Family had been the right call after all.
"I’ll give you the specifics in two days. A few things are still undecided."
"Understood."
Once Joseph left, I stretched my arms.
Outside the worn window, large snowflakes floated gently down.
A complete contrast to the blizzards of recent days.
Can’t afford to sit around anymore.
***
I went downstairs to the first floor and spotted Blaiher reading.
As we were still in the prep phase, the main actor of the plan—Blaiher—didn’t have much to do yet.
But it was too risky for him to wander the streets.
So his daily routine was basically reading and martial arts training.
"What are you reading today, Your Highness?"
"Teacher?! This is, well…"
Blaiher stammered and quickly pushed the book aside.
I motioned with a finger, and the book slid neatly into my hand.
"『Stunner’s Wondrous Travels』, huh. What kind of book is this?"
"Uh, that’s… a Northern Federation book."
Blaiher scratched his head as he muttered the word novel.
A quick skim revealed it was an exaggerated travel tale.
"Cesare gave it to me as a gift, so I was just flipping through it."
"The fourth volume, I see."
"…Yes."
He probably thought I’d scold him for not reading something related to imperial studies.
"No matter. One needs to relax now and then."
"Right? That’s why I was reading it."
Blaiher perked up almost instantly. I chuckled and flipped through the book—then paused at one line that caught my eye.
『Famous for being the path walked by the Saintess with the orange hair. Some residents claim to have seen her…』
"Um… was there a reason you came to see me?"
I’d been reading for a while, and Blaiher cautiously asked.
"Ah, nothing major. The weather’s nice. I figured now would be a good time to do that thing we talked about."
"The garden at the villa? Oh, yes, I understand."
"And one more thing."
I tapped the book.
"I’m borrowing this."
***
Hendrick Kruber shot a glance at the guard trailing him.
The man barely did his job, but his eyes lit up like fire whenever Hendrick tried to step outside—Hendrick found it extremely irritating.
"Isn’t the garden part of the villa? I should be able to walk there alone."
"You may not. It’s open to civilians now, so it’s not safe."
You’d think they were offering tight security.
In reality, the place was sparsely visited ever since the Imperial Family stopped coming.
They threw the word safety around, but it was just surveillance—to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.
How did it come to this…
He clicked his tongue and walked toward the garden.
Blanketed in thick snow, it had an exotic charm.
Had he not come here in exile, he might have found it beautiful.
Hmm? Someone’s there?
Amid the snow, someone was sitting.
He looked like a young boy—or maybe a sturdy youth.
"Hope you don’t mind me speaking with that fellow."
"…Just be careful, sir."
Ignoring the grumbling guard, Hendrick approached the seated figure.
The youth looked up at him.
His dark red hair felt strangely familiar.
"Mind if I sit?"
"Of course not."
Sitting beside him, Hendrick studied the youth’s face—and was quietly startled.
He’d thought it was just the hair color, but now he saw the resemblance in his features, too.
"What’s your name?"
"Blaiher, sir. And yours…?"
"Sir? Just call me Hendrick."
His politeness was refreshing.
Maybe it was because it had been so long since he’d spoken with someone from the outside, but the conversation flowed easily.
Through it, Hendrick learned quite a bit about Blaiher.
More from his behavior than his words about coming from afar or his age.
He seemed to have been educated in a noble family and trained for bureaucracy.
His wit was sharp, and he knew when to yield.
Above all, he truly did resemble his brother.
"Time’s flown. I should return."
"Go safely. Visit again if you have the time."
The young man left with a bright smile.
The guards approached at last, looking visibly bored.
"Let’s head in, sir. It’s cold."
"Yes, let’s."
With a distracted reply, Hendrick watched Blaiher’s back as he left.
He had a fleeting suspicion—but shook his head.
There’s no way that kind of coincidence exists.