The Bladin Family
It had been quite some time since Karina disappeared from the imperial palace. My nerves remained frayed because of that affair, yet I could not afford to dwell on it forever. A far more pressing concern had arisen.
A few days earlier, the chancellor had offered his resignation to the emperor. Count Silanda stood as the strongest candidate to succeed him.
Yet the movements of House Bladin—the emperor’s maternal family—had grown suspicious. They had secured several private audiences with the emperor of late, and rumors now swirled that they were openly coveting the chancellor’s seat.
“Isn’t it amusing?” Count Silanda murmured, lifting his teacup with an expression of disbelief. “After suffering such humiliation, they still dare to throw down the gauntlet once more.”
“While the late Duke Regentera lived, they were locked inside their estate, unable to stir a single step. Now they slink back into politics. How utterly laughable.”
“Indeed,” I replied, offering the appropriate words to match my father-in-law’s mood. Encouraged, Count Silanda began tearing into House Bladin with renewed vigor.
“To think they endured the shame of being demoted two full ranks from duke to count… Perhaps they will only come to their senses once they are stripped down to baron—or have their noble title revoked entirely.”
Count Silanda was normally a cautious man who showed respect to others. The fact that he could not stop disparaging the Bladins revealed how deeply the chancellorship—his lifelong ambition—had shaken him.
The position that had nearly been his was now at risk of slipping away because of House Bladin. His reaction was only natural.
House Bladin. The family had not always been counts; they had once been dukes.
One of the empire’s few ancient ducal houses, Bladin had suffered the indignity of being reduced by House Regentera not merely to marquis but all the way to count.
Like the Regenteras, the Bladins had produced generations of empresses. The present empress dowager—mother to the current emperor, to Princess Alensia, and to Prince Voltero—had also been born of House Bladin.
During the Regentera civil war, the imperial family had maintained neutrality, siding with neither Wilhelm nor Fabiel.
That, however, had been only the surface. In truth, the imperial house had used its maternal relatives in House Bladin to support Fabiel Regentera.
The reason was clear. Placing a bastard of weak legitimacy upon the ducal seat would weaken House Regentera. Fabiel would be forced to watch his every step before the imperial family to compensate for his shaky bloodline, allowing the throne and the Bladins to divide the family’s power between them.
Yet none of that had come to pass. The civil war ended in my grandfather’s victory, and he uncovered every piece of evidence that the imperial family and House Bladin had backed Fabiel.
In the end, the Bladins became targets of a purge. Only the fact that the empress was their daughter spared their lives. Still, they suffered an unprecedented disgrace: demoted two ranks from ducal to comital status, every member of the family confined to their estate.
It had not been mere punishment. It was a warning to the imperial family and a ruthless demonstration that even the throne’s strongest maternal allies would not be spared.
After my grandfather’s death, the Marchioness of Lilche lifted the house arrest, yet the Bladins still could not dream of re-entering politics. For such a family to suddenly aim for the chancellorship was both bewildering and unsettling; their true intentions remained impossible to read.
“Then whom do they intend to put forward as their candidate?”
Unlike our own house, where heirs were precious, House Bladin possessed many children.
Which one would step forward to challenge us? The eldest son? Or the second daughter, once rumored to be clever? Count Silanda’s answer, however, was entirely unexpected.
“Ebony Bladin.”
“Ebony Bladin? Who is that?”
“I had never heard the name either, but it seems she is the youngest daughter. She inherited the count title from her father only recently.”
With so many older siblings, they had passed the family to the youngest daughter?
That, too, made no sense. I had heard the three Bladin sons were ruffians and scoundrels, and that the daughters were addicted to gambling. Yet no rumors circulated about the youngest, Ebony Bladin. Still, given the circumstances, they would not field a foolish candidate. We would need to prepare ourselves.
“Ah, didn’t you mention a gift for me before I left?” Count Silanda asked lightly as he rose to depart.
“Oh, that’s right. Forgive me.”
I quickly retrieved the box I had placed beneath the table and offered it to him.
“What is this?”
As he opened the gift, the count’s eyes filled at once with delight.
“Good heavens, how lovely!”
“I have been sewing lately and made a little dress for a child. The color is the same yellow as Rubia’s eyes. Do you like it?”
“Very much! Duchess, I cannot thank you enough. My wife will be overjoyed.”
The count hugged the tiny dress to his chest, so happy he hardly knew what to do with himself.
The Silanda couple had waited many long years for a child; their daughter had been born only three years ago. The count was usually cool-headed and grave, yet when it came to his little girl he could not hide his joy.
If he were still alive… would my father have rejoiced over even such a small thing for my sake?
For a moment I felt fiercely envious of the three-year-old child.
At the same time, the emperor came to mind. I remembered how he had scolded and pressed me on the day Karina vanished from the palace.
Since that day I had often skipped paying my respects. He, too, had stopped summoning me as frequently as before.
It left me hurt, and at the same time furiously angry. Yet I endured it. If I could not bear even this much, I would never have resolved to drive Karina away.
“Duchess of Wintera!”
While I was lost in thought, a sharp voice called from beyond the door. Abigail stood there, her face drained of all color.
“His Majesty…! His Majesty…!”
At the news that the emperor had collapsed, I hurried to his quarters. This was already the umpteenth seizure; I had lost count. One thing, however, was certain: it was the first since Karina’s departure.
No. I must not think that way. It was simply something bound to happen eventually. The seizures have been frequent for a long time now.
I shook my head sharply, trying to cast her from my thoughts.
“Duchess of Wintera!”
When I reached the door, Illid urgently beckoned me inside.
“What has happened?”
“I-I do not know. We were in the middle of a state council when His Majesty suddenly clutched his chest and collapsed.”
Illid was stuttering, clearly shaken. Hellion paced restlessly beside the emperor’s bed, equally agitated.
I was accustomed to such scenes, but the two archdukes were not. They had seen the emperor collapse once before, yet that incident had been caused by a rampaging horse. To witness him fall before the entire assembly of ministers must have been far more shocking.
“Physician.”
I called to the imperial doctor who was moving busily around the unconscious emperor.
“When will His Majesty regain consciousness?”
“I cannot say with certainty. I am preparing medicine, but he has already built up considerable tolerance…”
The physician muttered uncertainly. Then, as though a thought had struck him, he turned to me.
“Duchess, do you by chance know where the tea maid is? If we mix the medicine into tea prepared by that maid named Karina, it may prove more effective.”
Why? Why did I have to hear her name again, even here?
It had been only a few months. In that short time, had the emperor and she become so inseparably bound that one could not be thought of without the other?
“I do not know either. I have no idea where that maid has gone.”
Beneath the sleeve of my dress, I clenched my fist until the hand turned white. Suppressing the anger surging inside me, I spoke in a resolute voice.
“Prescribe a stronger medicine. Strong enough to overcome the tolerance.”
“But Duchess, that will strain His Majesty’s body. The pain will be excruciating as well…”
“Physician.”
“Yes, Duchess.”
“Why do you always paint me as a cruel woman?”
“Pardon…?”
“I asked why you always emphasize so heavily that my decisions cause His Majesty pain!”
My voice had risen before I realized it. Startled by a side of me he had never seen, the physician stumbled backward. He cast a pleading glance toward Illid and Hellion.
Yet the two archdukes were equally bewildered. Illid stood frozen where he was, while Hellion narrowed his eyes and bit his lip.
“Who does not know that strong medicine will burden the body? Do you think I am unaware that His Majesty will suffer?”
I raised my voice at the physician once more.
“It has been more than three years since the crown prince passed away. Who has nursed His Majesty at his bedside all that time?”
“I-it has been you, of course, Duchess!”
“Would someone like me, who knows His Majesty’s condition better than anyone, tell you to prescribe strong medicine without reason?”
“N-no.”
“Should I instead say we should avoid medicine and wait a thousand or ten thousand years until His Majesty wakes on his own?”
“T-that is not it, either.”
“Then can you not simply follow my instructions once without comment? Why must you speak every time as though I am the one pushing His Majesty into agony!”
I had not known my own voice could sound so loud and sharp. The shrill tone echoing through the emperor’s quarters startled even me.
Not only the rebuked physician, but every face in the room darkened. Under ordinary circumstances someone might have tried to calm me, yet none of them dared.
Her voice rang inside my head.
Had this happened because I drove her away? If her herbal tea were still available, perhaps we would not have needed such a harsh prescription.
I should not have been angry with the physician. The one I ought to reproach was myself. I had known His Majesty would collapse one day. I had known stronger medicine would be required. And yet I had still sent her away.
I had resolved to endure anything, only to lose control because of guilt. I despised myself utterly.
“Both of you should return to the council chamber now,” I said to the archdukes without looking at them.
“Your staying here will not wake His Majesty any sooner. Go inform the ministers of his condition and finish the discussions that remain unfinished.”