The Emperor's Murder
The headline blared in massive letters. The Emperor's Passing.
I couldn't process it for a moment. Dead? The emperor? The man who'd been hale and hearty just days ago? I tried to wrap my head around the incomprehensible, but it remained utterly baffling. I shot to my feet and grabbed my coat. Time to check the other papers.
Click.
Before opening the door, I glanced back at Yulia, sleeping soundly. In that instant, a bolt of realization struck my brain.
'...Hold on.'
My mind cooled rapidly. The disloyal words from the Captain of the Imperial Guard. The emperor suddenly asking me to take Yulia on an "outing." Connecting the dots...
I shut the door I'd opened, locked it, and snatched the newspaper from the sofa, unfolding it roughly.
On September 2, 1720, Hessen Palace officially announced the passing of His Majesty Marcus IV (56).
Emperor Marcus's cause of death was natural causes due to war sequelae. He passed peacefully without suffering...
The emperor's will has been made public. The next emperor is the eldest son and crown prince, Joshua Hesenia Stella, to whom all authority is transferred. This takes effect immediately from the date of the emperor's passing, September 2. The new emperor entered the palace that very day, handled affairs, and held his coronation the next at St. Marzea Cathedral...
Nothing here seemed like a lie. If it were fake news and the emperor were alive, this paper wouldn't survive the backlash. I peeked out the window. Everyone—men, women, young, old—held a newspaper. A newsboy shouted something, hawking them. His lips formed the words: The empire's emperor is dead. They sold like hotcakes.
'Natural causes from war sequelae.' A perfect phrase for a man who died from battle wounds. If I hadn't seen the emperor myself, I'd have bought it hook, line, and sinker. But I had.
I'd seen him. That robust man couldn't just drop dead. He downed precious elixirs daily and was pampered by the palace staff—natural death after two days? No way. I didn't buy it. The emperor didn't die naturally. Suicide? Even less likely. He adored his daughter. The kind of dad who'd laugh even if you poked his eyes out. He wouldn't leave her behind like that.
Not natural causes. Not suicide. At this point, I had to face it. Murder. The emperor had been assassinated. That was the only possibility.
He was dead. Gone from this world.
'...'
A hollow ache in my chest. It'd only been half a year, but our memories hadn't vanished. I scratched my head roughly and kept thinking.
'I don't want to believe it, but the timing's too perfect.'
I scanned the paper again. The crown prince enters the palace like he'd been waiting, handles business, coronation the next day. His actions fit exactly as if he knew Marcus's death in advance. And the captain's words: Swear loyalty to the empire, not the emperor. That meant no loyalty to the previous emperor, Marcus. Looking back, it was basically a declaration of rebellion. Especially from the Imperial Guard—the emperor's elite protectors. If they turned and decided to kill him, no one could stop them.
'Why me? Why now? Why entrust his daughter to me?'
That meant... he must've known he was going to die. When I relayed the captain's suspicious words, the emperor just said, "Is that so?" and granted my leave. Not the face of someone clueless. The face of one who'd realized and accepted it.
He'd foreseen his death. And he was looking for someone to care for his daughter in his place.
That realization hit, and...
"Fuck."
The curse slipped out. I reached for a cigarette but saw Yulia and put it away. Things were royally fucked.
Yulia Hesenia Stella. The world's noblest girl was with me. Her mere existence was a danger. Marcus's third legitimate child—and the only daughter. Endless political value.
Marcus must've thought: He could protect his princess while alive, but not after. So entrust her to someone reliable. That was me.
Suddenly, I was guardian to a 10-year-old. The previous emperor's cherished daughter, no less.
'Joshua won't let this slide...'
I'd seen the crown prince a few times on guard duty. Joshua was base, greedy. He paraded with whores at imperial viewings and state events. Confirmed bastards: twenty already. And his ambition knew no bounds.
First act as emperor? Power grabs via political marriage—the surest, easiest way. He was already married to a duke's daughter. Next: other royals. The second son was a threat. No sons from the eldest, Joshua; if he died, second in line. So eliminate him, leaving...
'...We're screwed.'
Yulia. The man who might've killed Marcus desperately wanted her. A safe female—no threat. But a sweet fruit for marriage alliances.
Yulia was a poison-free holy grail. Huge returns, zero risk. From the emperor's view, a must-have. By now, he'd have the full Imperial Guard hunting her.
'If they catch us, we're dead.'
As a current guardsman, I knew. The empire crushed all rebels. I'd killed them myself.
To Joshua, I was the thief who'd stolen his princess. Caught by the Guard? Dead meat.
'...Or what if I just hand Yulia over?'
Think reverse. Before they find me, I approach Emperor Joshua first. "I was tricked by Marcus. Forced to take the princess. Sorry. I swear loyalty to you."
'...'
That was my survival play. Bow to the emperor, hand over Yulia. Public appearance means witnesses—he couldn't kill me outright. Yeah, do that. Play dumb. Wasn't my choice. I'm innocent...
"Daddy..."
A mumbling voice as she nuzzled my hand. Yulia slept peacefully, a faint smile on her face. Sunlight through the open curtains bathed her like an angel. The perfect word for that smile.
"...'
A strange feeling washed over me. Moments ago, I'd been trembling like the Guard would burst in any second. Now, gazing at that serene smile, I felt calm as a still lake.
What a girl. Controlling moods with just a smile.
Then a weary resignation settled in. Abused runaway turned mercenary, met a noble, learned magic. Joined the Guard to live well, ended up here. Not great, not awful life. But for 25? Pretty spectacular. Now adding "Guard trusted by the late emperor with his youngest daughter."
That thought hit, and suddenly... I didn't care. Captain, Joshua, dangerous future—whatever. Apathy took over. Que sera, sera.
First thing: Move lodgings. Hoisted the snoring Yulia on my back and slipped out. They might already be tracking. No—definitely were. Time to muddy the trail.
Bought a bowler hat and oversized coat at a clothier. Should obscure my features enough. Got Yulia simple clothes too—a plain dress.
Quick purchase, new inn on the outskirts. Risky security, but good for hiding.
"Nngh..."
Laid Yulia on the bed. Still clutching her doll.
"...What's this?"
Stroking her hair, I noticed the doll's back bulging. Gently took it, checked the seam. Zipper. Opened it.
A letter. And a ring.
Letter first. Not Yulia's handwriting. Sealed with the emperor's crest.
Slid the bear doll back into her arms and tore it open.
Sorry, my friend. By the time you read this, I'll be in the Lord's embrace.
The emperor's handwriting.
...As expected. He wouldn't leave nothing behind. And yep, he'd known his death was coming. The contents matched my suspicions: Foreseeing his end, he entrusted Yulia to me.
With my meager authority, I've erased your movements and exit records. You'll appear to have vanished without a trace. Impossible to track.
I'm deeply sorry to you. But this doddering old fool has no reliable friends to lean on. You might not see it that way, but I truly respected and relied on you. Yet the burden you now carry is the result of my selfish judgment. You have no reason or obligation to bear it. For this, I apologize to you and to God.
"Ha, this old man..."
Apologize and it's all good? But my resolve was set; no shaking.
Quick as you are, you likely know already: I'll be murdered by my son Joshua. Incomprehensible, right? The soon-to-be emperor couldn't wait mere years. I understand. Because I sought to diminish imperial power. All monarchs wise and learned? Reality's different. For every sage king, a tyrant. I wanted to share power with the people. Seems that irked Joshua.
"..."
Marcus had wanted to share power. From our talks, I knew his vision: Emperor and citizen-elected Senate dividing national rule. Like ancient democracies, he'd said. Naturally, next emperor Joshua opposed. Why share his power? Result: Kill Marcus before democracy took root, seize full control.
I read his final words.
My precious daughter, Yulia Hesenia Stella. Born royal, her future's set: Loveless marriage, unwanted children, a life in chains. Shameless request, I know. Even a conscienceless peasant wouldn't ask so rudely. But for Yulia, I cast aside all pride.
The ring is from our founding emperor and Stella progenitor, Hesenia Stella. Legends say it wielded mystical power; I wouldn't know. But its value's immense—likely ruby and gold. Pity few recognize its true worth, but it could buy a manor with gardens in Lenz at least.
"Gave me something precious."
The first emperor's ring. Mythic hero who ended demonic rule, ushered human era. His ring.
I fiddled with it. Gold band with central red gem. Ancient craftsmanship—plain compared to modern. Just red and gold. No imperial crest; without explanation, no one'd know its origin.
Tried it on my middle finger. No mystical power.
"Selling this'd be pointless anyway."
Examining it, I chuckled wryly. If just pricey bling, I'd sell without hesitation. But the founder’s ring from a millennium ago? Priceless. Hero who banished demons, brought light. Can't put a tag on that. More respect than burden. Belongs with someone who knows its value. Me, fine. And I wasn't hurting for cash to sell imperial reports or whatever.
Speaking of cash...
"My stocks, my money..."
12 years of saving, fondly recalled. Probably safe in the bank. Wanted to grab it now.
"Heartbreaking."
The heart of the Hesenia Empire, Hessen Palace, reeked of blood.
The imperial flag fluttered under gloomy skies.
Clank, clank... Imperial Guards in black armor over black coats thudded forward. Red footprints trailed—human blood. Their clothes suggested many kills. Helmets hid expressionless faces.
Rumble...
The captain led, shoving open the Grand Hall doors. Red carpet stretched, flanked by pillars thick as two men embracing, propping the ceiling. Walls bore roaring twin-headed eagles—the empire's symbol. Smeared with blood, lots of it.
"Joshua Hesenia Stella! You dare defy His late Majesty Emperor Marcus's will!?"
In the hall's center, senators pointed and yelled at the young emperor on the throne.
He slouched arrogantly. Golden hair, blue eyes, handsome. Like young Marcus—but personality polar opposite.
The senators were thunderstruck. Marcus had founded the Senate for power-sharing. Joshua murdered him, scrapped it. Then purged all involved.
The emperor scoffed and commanded.
"I'm the emperor now? Why the familiarity, you parasites coveting my power? Guards! Punish this wretch defying the empire's lord."
The captain unleashed sword aura. A senator's arm flew.
"Argh!"
Blood gushed from the stump. The new Guard line held nothing back.
The emperor smirked, chin in hand.
"Father was such a fool. Share the empire with these idiots? Right? Doesn't make sense, does it?"
He asked the captain.
"Indeed. The true empire belongs solely to the exalted founder's descendants."
"Right. Share with a senate? Absurd. Oh yeah— what about that girl?"
"Who do you mean...?"
"The old man's youngest. Yulia, was it? You know."
"No, I know."
"Brought her? Need her. Gotta give to Duke Arnonia. Old bastard's greedy. Dying to mix noble blood."
This coup allied with nobles hating the senate. They wanted power split emperor-nobles only—no people. Duke Arnonia, major backer; Joshua married his daughter, easing the plot. Now he wanted reward: marriage to Yulia. Pure noble obsessed with royal blood. Joshua didn't care if his little sister wed an old man.
"..."
"What? No answer?"
"Night before the coup, the previous emperor secretly moved Her Highness the princess with one guardsman abroad..."
"What? You didn't stop it?"
"...He hid the admin records."
"No—your guards took her. How'd you not know?"
"My apologies."
The captain bowed deeply. Guard stance matched nobles'. Their power from the throne—proportional. Marcus's senate would've weakened it. Unable to yield might, they backed Joshua.
New emperor stroked his chin calmly.
"Where to?"
"...Apologies. No records."
"Damn old man, troublesome to the end."
He slicked back his bangs.
"Find her. Scour the world."
"As you command."
"Handle those first."
He nodded at the hall's clustered figures.
Shing... Guards drew swords in unison.
Screams erupted instantly.