A Fragile Accord
Click, clack...
The steady rhythm of leather shoes echoed down the long corridor. Walking in lockstep beside me was a strikingly beautiful woman.
"Why... why didn't you say anything about the tax laws?" Theodora asked, pressing me about the cabinet meeting we had just walked out of.
I pressed my index finger to my lips. "Shh. Let's talk in my office."
Her brow furrowed, her face a mask of discontent. The guards stationed at the entrance saluted us and promptly threw the doors open.
Screeech—
Theodora and I stepped inside, followed by the heavy thud of the door sealing shut behind us. The moment we were in private, I roughly loosened the cravat that had been choking my neck all morning.
"Why didn't you give me any warning about the tax reforms?" she demanded, her voice laced with burning curiosity.
I let her persistent questioning drift in through one ear and out the other as I collapsed onto the sofa, closing my eyes. "Because you might have opposed it. And I didn't want any unnecessary interference."
After all, Theodora despised me. There was rarely any good to be had from letting her in on my plans.
"Why would I ever interfere with something that benefits the people of the Empire?"
Her voice carried an unusual, almost gentle warmth. Startled by the unexpected sentiment, I slowly cracked one eye open. The gaze meeting mine wasn't filled with her usual irritation. It was... soft? An unfamiliar look that felt entirely foreign on her face.
"I thought you hated me."
"No matter how much I might dislike you, this is for the good of the Empire! If anything, I would have helped you, not stood in your way."
A faint, amused smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Is that so? Well, that's a relief then. By the way, did you think about the task I gave you last time?"
Theodora gave a subtle nod. "I came up with a few ideas. But... you have to promise not to laugh."
I sat up, adjusting my posture. "I won't laugh. Let's hear it."
Theodora let out a soft, tentative sigh. "Whew... You wanted a way to generate revenue for the imperial treasury without raising taxes, correct?"
I nodded in confirmation.
"Exactly. Squeezing the populace for more taxes is the last thing I want to do."
Raising taxes wasn't a simple matter of adjusting the rates in the crown lands. It would affect every city and noble estate across the Empire, sparking massive backlash. With the imperial authority as fragile as it was now, such a move could easily trigger a civil war. Frankly, I wasn't even confident it would pass the Imperial Assembly.
"Then what if we reduce the amount of gold or silver used in our coins?"
I immediately cut her off. "Rejected. That's debasement, and it's highly illegal. Besides, if rumors of debasement get out, the economic fallout will be catastrophic."
It wasn't as if the idea hadn't crossed my mind. Currency here was minted by melting down gold and silver to a legally mandated weight. Historically, a few foolish emperors had tried to secretly reduce the precious metal content in their coins. The result? High-purity gold and silver coins vanished from the market overnight. Shrewd merchants hoarded the older, purer coins and melted them down for profit. If that were the only issue, it might be manageable, but it inevitably triggered hyperinflation and market distortion, crippling the imperial economy. I had no intention of taking such a reckless gamble.
"But who would ever find out?" she argued. "To prove we reduced the purity, they would have to melt the coins down. And melting imperial currency is... illegal, isn't it?"
She had a point. Very few ordinary citizens would dare to melt down state-issued coins. However, the moment an order went down to the Treasury to lower the precious metal content, the secret would leak to the nobility and the free cities. The Treasury was crawling with noble heirs and agents from the merchant guilds. The information would inevitably slip out, and they would immediately exploit it. For instance, a standard gold coin currently contained about 3.7 grams of gold. If we reduced that to 3 grams...
"They would take the newly minted, debased coins to banks or merchants, exchange them for the older, purer coins, and then melt those down to sell the raw gold," I explained. They would pocket a clean 0.7 grams of gold per coin.
"Ugh... Would they really go to such lengths?" Theodora asked, her brow furrowing in distaste.
"Absolutely. The nobles, the clergy, the merchants—every single one of them would jump at the chance."
In the end, we would just be draining our own gold reserves from circulation. Theodora nodded slowly, conceding the point, and walked over to the desk where my research papers were piled high.
"Then what about this?" She pulled a few sheets from the stack of academic papers and brought them over.
"This is...?"
It was the thesis on paper currency I had reviewed a while back.
"What if we lower the purity of silver coins for minor daily transactions, and issue paper currency to replace gold coins entirely?"
I stroked my chin, falling into deep thought. Well, this is awkward... I was already planning to do exactly that.
"You've been studying this paper for quite some time," she noted. "Doesn't that mean you also think it has potential?"
Having lived in modern Earth, paper currency was naturally one of my long-term goals. In fact, I had been planning to introduce it within the Grand Duchy first, rather than the Empire. I had no idea how Theodora had managed to sniff out the exact paper I had set aside, but she had just laid out my own blueprint.
"If a gold coin is lost, we have to mine and mint more gold to replace it. But if we use paper, and the Treasury promises to back that paper with gold upon request, we can prevent the unnecessary loss of precious metals, can't we?"
She was right. Gold coins were constantly lost to the system—leaking into foreign nations, sinking to the ocean floor in merchant vessels, or plundered by bandits on the trade routes to Babylon.
"Also rejected," I said flatly.
Theodora stared at me, dumbfounded. "Why... why?"
"Because I've already planned that out. You clearly got the idea from that thesis, but I've already read every single paper in that stack. There's no point in pitching an idea I've already processed."
Theodora pouted slightly, but she seemed to understand my point.
"What I need from you is a fresh, brilliant perspective—something I haven't already thought of."
"Whew... Fine, I get it."
Seeing her shoulders slump, I felt a sudden pang of sympathy. She had clearly put a lot of effort into this. I decided to throw her a bone.
"Still, you did an excellent job at the cabinet meeting today."
I meant it. She had memorized and digested a massive amount of information, presenting it with the poise and dignity befitting an Empress without a single tremor in her voice. Perhaps it was her imperial bloodline, but authority seemed to flow naturally from her every gesture. When I praised her for steering the meeting so effectively as the chairperson...
"Hmph. This is only natural. You have absolutely no idea how hard I worked for this. You really don't."
I couldn't help but smile at her adorable pout. "I suppose so. You mediated the discussions beautifully. I must admit, I saw you in a new light today."
"Do you take me for a fool? After all the grilling and tormenting you put me through, it would be stranger if I *didn't* know the material. If anything, I feel cheated."
Intrigued by her complaint, I tilted my head. "Cheated? How so?"
"I memorized so much and prepared all these elaborate answers in case anyone pressed me for my opinion... but not a single person asked!"
I let out a soft chuckle. "Well, that's because everyone knows the real power rests with me. But if it makes you feel any better, I overheard the Ministers of Internal and Foreign Affairs praising you afterward."
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Really...?"
"Yes. They said your insight was remarkably broad."
For someone who had never received formal political training, she had performed brilliantly. Theodora parted her lips, murmuring something so quiet it was almost lost to the wind.
"Thank you."
"Pardon?" *Did she just thank me?*
"I... I have plans with Joy. I must be going."
With that, she scrambled to her feet and practically fled the room. I stared blankly at the closed door.
Thank you? Did she actually just thank me?
A soft, genuine smile spread across my face as I realized she was already gone before I could even press her on it.
"A thank you..." I murmured. "Well, at least we aren't headed toward a total catastrophe."
I sank back onto the sofa, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. "I'm... incredibly tired."
The past two days had taken a heavy toll. *Maybe just a quick nap.* I closed my eyes, promising myself it would only be for a few minutes.
Late that night.
Screeech—
"It has been a while, Your Grace."
I offered a warm smile to Agrippa, who had finally returned to my side. "Welcome back, Agrippa. Did you get some proper rest?"
The handsome blonde commoner offered a brilliant, albeit weary, smile. "Indeed, I slept like the dead thanks to your generosity... though it feels as if I've just stepped right back into hell."
Hell, was it? "Well, you're not wrong about that," I chuckled, pulling a massive map and a set of wooden markers carved with military insignias from my desk drawer.
"Now that you're fully recharged, it's time to get to work. Shall we begin planning our campaign against the rebellious Anti-Emperor Faction?"
Agrippa's face contorted into a grimace as he pulled up a chair opposite me. He let out a long, suffering sigh. "Whew... Very well, let's begin."
He reached out and began arranging the wooden markers across the map. "Your Grace, I don't recognize this particular marker," Agrippa noted, pointing to a new piece.
I chuckled. "That one?"
Agrippa stared at the eagle-shaped crest with a puzzled expression.
"That represents the Imperial Guard—the Emperor's standing army."
Agrippa's expression turned deeply concerned. "Even if you are the Prince Consort and the de facto ruler of this Empire, mobilizing the Imperial Guard for your own campaign is bound to provoke massive political backlash, is it not?"
"No, it's fine. The Emperor Faction is in no position to move right now anyway."
Yohanes had yet to fully consolidate his hold over Epirus and Egypt. If he dared to turn hostile against me now, it would mean mutual destruction. Actually, Yohanes would be the first to fall, given his greedy attempt to swallow those territories whole.
Agrippa's eyes widened slightly as the realization dawned on him. "I understand the strategic landscape, Your Grace, but poking the bear that is Yohanes too much rarely ends well."
I nodded. "I know what you're worried about, Agrippa. But we don't have the luxury of caution right now."
Time was of the essence. I had to completely subjugate and consolidate the Anti-Emperor Faction before Yohanes could finish absorbing the Emperor Faction under his banner.
"Very well. If we are to mobilize the Imperial Guard, we must ensure this campaign is swift, decisive, and overwhelming."
I pointed at him with a grin. "Exactly."
"In that case, let us proceed like this..."
And so, Agrippa and I spent the rest of the night hunched over the map, hammering out the details of the coming war.