The Real Banquet Begins
Crunch, craaack─
A sound that, depending on the listener, might well be mistaken for bones snapping. It was the sort of noise any human being would instinctively recoil from—and it was coming from one man alone.
....
The massive hand that, until only moments ago, had been gripping the hilt of his sword had at some point closed into a fist, and it would not stop trembling. The corner of his mouth—that mouth which had never once worn anything but blank indifference—now quivered without pause, as if to give shape to the fury smoldering behind it.
Yes. Even now, even as he bowed his head against every fiber of his being.
"...Hmm. All of you, raise your heads."
When permission to lift their heads at last fell from the lips of the Emperor—who had worn his displeasure with the Duke plainly from the very start—the Duke once again could not raise his.
"...Duke Reinhardt. Why is it that, this whole while, you have not accepted my words as they are given?"
Even as the face of the Emperor looking down at him from that great height crumpled by the moment, he could not lift his head.
"...I say, have you truly lost your mind? What in the world has gotten into you?"
"I have no intention of being thrown into turmoil by your... theatrics. But if you are so eager to die, kindly die alone."
Even as the reproaches and rebukes of the other dukes went on swirling about his ears, he could not raise his head.
'Not... not now...!'
Because the expression on his face at this very moment was twisted beyond all denial—twisted so plainly that even he himself could not fail to notice it.
"...Reinhardt. I shall ask you one final time. Why do you not raise your head?"
Unable to bear it any longer, the Emperor began slowly descending the lofty stairs—and in that same instant, every mouth in the hall snapped shut.
Because it could be felt, faintly but unmistakably: the crimson killing intent pouring from behind the Emperor's back.
'Oh no. This is bad... It seems His Majesty is well and truly angry...'
'What is that lunatic Reinhardt pulling now?! Seriously, aaagh!!'
The rowdy cheer that had filled the hall until moments ago now felt as though it had been nothing but an illusion, and not a soul dared step forward into that frozen air.
'Damn it... that bastard Reinhardt... he hasn't completely lost his mind, has he?'
'...The Duke falling out of His Majesty's favor is an unforeseen development... what are we supposed to do about this...?'
'If His Majesty casts the Duke aside for good here... then the future of my trading house...'
It was no different for those who, until moments ago, had been showering the Duke with every saccharine word of flattery they could conjure. They were hardly men whose loyalty ran deep enough to speak up in an atmosphere like this.
And besides—what if they stepped in rashly and crossed the Emperor's temper? They had approached the Duke for the sake of their families and their futures. What good would any of it do if they fell from the Emperor's grace instead? They would not even be able to keep a foothold in this country.
"Reinhardt. Do you truly take my words so lightly?"
At last, the Emperor—having descended the stairs in full—came to a stop before him, accompanied by a crimson killing intent starkly transformed from what it had been before.
"Answer me, Reinhardt."
"...."
"For it seems the fate of House Reinhardt shall be decided by your answer."
At the Emperor's threat that was no threat at all, every head in the hall whipped toward him in the same breath. They understood far too well what his words implied.
'Wh... what did His Majesty just say?'
'Those words... is he saying he will cast out the Ducal House?'
'...Is he saying he means to seize the initiative for the Imperial Family outright?'
Of course, it was not as though no house had ever incurred the Imperial Family's displeasure. Even going by the records alone that had been handed down through the generations, the families annihilated for provoking the tempers of Emperors past were hardly one or two.
And yet...
"Come to think of it, not once has the Imperial Family ever truly laid a hand on the Ducal House."
"...."
"There was never any justification to begin with, and so long as you did not touch the Imperial Family first, I had little reason to care."
"...."
"But then, what is this attitude of yours, exactly?"
"...."
"You fail to carry out my commands as given, and you even compel me to keep retracting words I have already spoken..."
"...."
"Am I to regard this as nothing less than a challenge to my authority and that of the Imperial Family, Duke?"
The Emperor's glacial words lunged at the Duke, each one a bared blade—and only then did the Duke's head begin, slowly, to rise. That heavy head of his, which had not budged so much as an inch until this very moment.
"...Ha. Your head is rather heavy, Duke."
"I apologize for my discourtesy, Your Majesty. ...I beg you to forgive this wretched man."
At the Duke's apology, the Emperor's eyes trembled once—faintly, but unmistakably. Out of pure, unguarded astonishment.
'Hoh... so even you know how to bend that pride of yours, when the situation truly demands it?'
This was a man whose pride in his own honor was the stuff of legend, and here he was, abasing himself for the sake of forgiveness. As far as the Emperor was concerned, any pretext to press him further had effectively evaporated.
Well—hands trembling with shame were more than enough for him to forgive.
"I shall send word to your house in due course regarding the disposition of this matter."
"...It shall be as You say, Your Majesty."
"Were it left to my heart, I would settle your fate here and now..."
Letting the words trail off into nothing, the Emperor wheeled around and lifted his chin—toward the black-haired boy still standing awkwardly at the top of those stairs.
"Today is a good day... so I shall simply let it pass. See that you are grateful to that boy."
"...Your grace... is... boundless."
Having said his piece, the Emperor turned his back and departed the scene, looking for all the world satisfied.
Crrrack─
Ignoring the sound that rang in his ears.
...The awkwardness alone was enough to drive me mad.
Ella had peeled off partway here, insisting she absolutely had to be somewhere else, and the man called the Emperor—who had dragged me to this spot in the first place—had abandoned me at the foot of these stairs and wandered off elsewhere. Which left me with precisely one option: to stand there, meekly, exactly where I was.
"...Who is that boy, that he comes out of the same place as His Majesty the Emperor?"
"Hmm... that black hair, those black eyes... I feel as though I've seen him somewhere before, don't you...?"
"Could that child be... that... no, never mind. It's hardly a certainty."
All while enduring the stares of the nobles boring into me like this, no less.
Before I knew it, I had gained a firsthand understanding of what it felt like to be a rare animal in a zoo, and just as I was beginning to acclimate to these clinging gazes, the Emperor once more began walking slowly toward me.
"To all who have gathered in this place."
The Emperor's voice swelled and rolled out across the hall, unbroken. As though he were holding a microphone.
"Are you enjoying the banquet?"
When the very man who had thrown this banquet said so himself, who would have the gall to strenuously object? If anything, the customary response was to declare it the merriest evening of one's life while piling on every species of flattery and fawning.
The Emperor, evidently roughly aware of this truth in his own right, did not bother to call attention to the nobles' uniformly dutiful replies.
"Well... invite you I did, in the name of my humble banquet, but..."
"...?"
"The truth is, there is another reason I have gathered you all in one place like this."
The instant the Emperor finished speaking, the nobles' reactions erupted in every direction at once.
There was an old man who looked as though he had expected as much, bracing himself for whatever might next leave the Emperor's mouth; a man who apparently had genuinely known nothing, the food he had been enjoying moments before slipping from his hand; and there, beside them, the figure of Isabella, tilting her glass in solitary, unbothered elegance...
'...Isabella?'
"As for that reason... you will all come to understand it in due course."
At the same moment, the glow of every chandelier in the hall began, as if by magic, to converge upon a single point. Like a spotlight.
"Her Holiness the Saintess and His Holiness the Pope now enter!!"
With that signal announcing the arrival of those who embodied, quite literally, pure white and light.
"...Your Holiness, must I truly go as well?"
"You must, Saintess. This blessing must be bestowed by your hand and no other."
....
Two voices chattered on and on through the corridor of the Imperial Palace—mingled with the petulant grumbling of the woman behind the white gauze veil.
Click, clack─
The sound of heels—something one would never so easily have heard from her in ordinary days—echoed down the corridor, and those shoes, too, as if they had been commissioned for this day alone, were pure white. A color befitting the white veil and the white vestments.
"Heh. What, did all the gamblers die? Just sitting there watching, you'll never win anyth—wha—?!"
"S-Saintess?!"
The guards who had been sneaking a card game at the head of the corridor sprang to their feet and bowed at the waist, but she and the old man swept past them as though such things were beneath their notice.
"Her Holiness the Saintess and His Holiness the Pope now enter!!"
And in that instant, the eyes of everyone in the hall converged upon her—upon the woman robed in pristine white and veiled in gauze, as though beauty itself had taken human form.
'Stares like these really are such a burden...'
The woman at the center of it all, far from savoring the attention, found it nothing short of oppressive—but she soon arrived at the stage of resigned acceptance, telling herself it simply could not be helped.
'The title of Saintess is... uncomfortable. Especially for someone like me.'
If only to stop feeling the eyes upon her, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed forward, one step at a time. After all, so long as she funneled her holy power into her eyes, she could find her way even blind.
"Now that the Saintess has graced us with her presence... it is about time I told you. Of the reason I have called you all here."
One step. Then another.
At last she reached the Emperor's side, and the moment his lips parted, her eyes flew open with a snap.
'...Huh?'
The first thing to meet her gaze was a pair of eyes, deep and dark as obsidian. And hair of a shade to match—and that face of his, forever looking worn and half-awake.
"Je... Jenison? Why are you here of all places...?"
"A blessing for the Empire's young hero!"
"Wh... whaaat?!"
"Hmm... Reinhardt, that little brat... your s... is..."
"...."
"...This hardly seems the moment for that conversation. Let us meet again a little later."
"...That's a lie."
"...."
"It's... impossible."