An Offer That Cannot Be Refused
"Jephord."
Duchess Victoria Windsor stroked the eagle and carefully took the letter attached to its beak.
I don't want to work.
Victoria Windsor froze for a moment, lost in thought.
It was Luid's handwriting. The impatient, abrupt flick at the tail of every stroke seemed to speak volumes about her son's state of mind.
Luid was currently at the Academy. He'd run away from home because it was a bother, and now he was at the Academy.
Word had come that Clifford, the Academy's Headmaster, had announced his resignation. And immediately afterward, the Emperor himself had visited the Academy.
Luid would never send a letter over anything trivial. No — he had exceeded his own authority, and was asking for help. And since the letter said he didn't want to work, it was obvious the Emperor had ordered him to do something.
"…So that's how it happened."
With only a few seconds of thought, Victoria had pieced together exactly what had befallen Luid.
"Lucius. And here I thought of you as a friend."
Carrying the letter with the utmost care, Victoria headed to her own chamber. First things first — she would see to it that Luid's 'first letter' to her was preserved for eternity under every protective spell she knew.
"Your Majesty! Urgent news! A remarkable surge of mana has been detected from Windsor Castle!"
Merlin, the court magician, reported in a state of utter panic. The Emperor asked with an air of perfect indifference.
"What sort of surge, exactly?"
"W-well… the best estimate is that sword aura was launched into the sky, and given its sheer magnitude, we conclude it was the work of the Duke of Windsor. It is… currently snowing at Windsor Castle."
At that, Lucius let out a laugh of pure incredulity.
"Windsor certainly has a novel way of staging a protest."
"This is no laughing matter, Your Majesty! Windsor's mana pointed toward the heavens — it could be interpreted as a challenge to the authority of the throne! Never once in all of history has such a thing occurred!"
"So it shall be recorded as the most colossal tantrum ever committed? Really, what did the innocent sky ever do to deserve this?"
"Your Majesty! You must summon the Duke of Windsor to the palace at once and hold her severely accountable!"
"You'd have me sour relations with Windsor over a petty prank? Get out, sir."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Merlin scurried away as fast as his legs would carry him.
Left alone in the great hall, Lucius drew out a bracelet. When he invoked the authority of the Emperor, the bracelet glowed brightly, and a square panel floated into the empty air.
It was a communication network that served in place of a viewing crystal. The image of Victoria in her formal uniform flickered into view.
"A pleasure, Victoria."
[Lucius.]
Victoria paused briefly, then added,
[Your Majesty.]
"Just speak casually. It's hardly official business, is it?"
[I've heard the news. It seems you've assigned something to my son.]
"You staged a protest over that?"
[I merely parted the clouds.]
Clouds symbolized peace. Parting them carried no positive meaning whatsoever.
Lucius heaved a long, heavy sigh.
"That's always been your problem. You never talk things through. If something displeases you, simply say so — why take it out on the poor clouds?"
[What exactly did you have Luid do?]
"I extended an offer for him to take the position of Academy Headmaster. He does seem to rely on you a great deal, I see — sending word to you straight away."
Victoria smiled. When she spoke again, her tone had softened somewhat.
[Do not expect too much from a twelve-year-old. I sent him to the Academy so that he might spend time among children his own age.]
"Haha, he's far too brilliant for that, I'm afraid. Do you know what feats your son has accomplished?"
Victoria had been refusing all reports concerning Luid. Because the more she heard, the more she missed him.
She could not count the times she had smothered the urge to depart for the Imperial Capital that very instant.
Knowing this, Lucius leisurely recited Luid's achievements.
"He discovered a new form of magic and held a lecture on it, single-handedly defeated a black mage, and most recently, he repaired the Academy's crumbling old facilities — a longstanding thorn in everyone's side — free of charge."
Victoria's face was expressionless.
"So you see, how could I possibly restrain mysel—"
Victoria spoke in a voice no bigger than a mosquito's whine.
[…Tell me a little more detail.]
Her cheeks had flushed faintly pink.
Lucius chuckled and went through everything that had happened, taking care to sprinkle praise for Luid throughout. He praised the boy to the point of excess — and then,
[I see. That explains it. Lucius, you are an exceptional Emperor.]
…Victoria beamed with pride.
[But unfortunately, my son wants none of it. I would have you withdraw the order.]
Yet Victoria was not so easily persuaded. Unlike before, however, her tone was remarkably gentle.
She's put me in check.
In chess terms, it was check. She had shifted one square sideways to escape the check, but a rook still barred every path of retreat. All that remained was to move the rook one square over.
"Come to think of it, Victoria — you've had your eye on the Larden Fief for quite a long time, haven't you?"
The Larden Fief was imperial territory. Long ago, it had been confiscated following the treasonous acts of a certain Count Larden, and it had remained in the Empire's hands ever since. And as it happened, it sat in close proximity to the Windsor Ducal House.
Unlike the barren environs of the Windsor Duchy, Larden was a gem of a land, extraordinarily rich in resources.
The Windsor Duchy was a place where food scarcely grew. Because of that, the family had always imported enormous quantities of grain from the Larden Fief and distributed it to the people free of charge — but recently, a explosive surge in population had turned that distribution into a towering headache.
Which was why Victoria coveted the Larden Fief so intensely. Out of consideration for the dignity of House Windsor, she had never let it show — but the yearning was real, and it ran deep.
[…….]
"I'll give it to you. Will you persuade Luid?"
[You would truly give me that?]
Victoria looked as if she couldn't believe her ears.
So I was going to hand it over anyway — and here he is, milking it for all it's worth.
In truth, from the Empire's perspective, the Larden Fief was nothing more than a nice-to-have — pleasant to keep, but no great loss to part with. Fertile farmland existed in abundance elsewhere in the Empire. If anything, running the fief left the Empire perpetually short-staffed; being stationed at the far northern edge of the realm, it was a post everyone dreaded. An imperial official reassigned to Larden considered it a demotion, plain and simple.
In other words, it was land the Empire desperately needed to dispose of. And if it was to be disposed of, naturally it was best passed to a house that could be trusted — the Ducal House of Windsor.
Placing House Windsor in my debt is a prize worth more than any plot of land.
Since he was giving it away regardless, it was better to give freely, with no price attached — as a 'reward.'
But conferring it under a flimsy pretext made an even deeper impression. And so he had been waiting for a suitably convenient excuse to present itself.
And now, the perfect pretext had arrived.
"Yes."
It was an offer that simply could not be refused. And yet Victoria hesitated — a testament to just how deep her love for Luid ran.
Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.
That she could even hesitate over this. Lucius was dumbfounded.
But it wasn't over yet. Lucius opened his mouth to deliver checkmate.
"Hmm, though on reflection, the position of Headmaster would likely prove quite a burden for Luid."
[Indeed. He is far too young to be handed such responsibility.]
"All I truly want is for Luid to remain at the Academy, just as he is now. To lend a hand now and then when the mood strikes him, to extend his goodwill. I hardly expect him to run the place."
Lucius smiled slyly and drove the wedge in.
"So let us settle it this way — we invoke some suitable pretext, grant him a prestigious but honorary title, and let him remain at the Academy freely. A… honorary professorship, say. What do you think? I'd call it a rather fair proposal."
It was known as the door-in-the-face technique.
Present an extravagant request first, invite its rejection, and then make the request you actually want seem trivial by comparison — so trivial that it is accepted without resistance.
Offering the headmastership to a boy of merely twelve was, by any standard of common sense, several steps beyond the pale.
But the 'honorary professorship' that Lucius truly wanted was itself well outside the bounds of common sense. After all, Luid was already the youngest student ever admitted to the Academy.
And yet, compared to the headmastership he'd been offered first, it felt like nothing at all. And that was precisely Lucius's design.
Lucius regarded Victoria with a confident expression. He did not believe for a moment that she would refuse this proposal.
[…An honorary professorship, you say. Yes… that does seem acceptable.]
"See? Then—"
[But what matters more is my son's own wishes.]
You're not accepting it outright?
Lucius was flustered.
Truly relentless, this woman…
He shook his head with a slow, weary sway. Pressing any further might make him look coercive. Left with no choice, Lucius nodded.
"Very well. Then you shall ask Luid his wishes."
Victoria spoke with remarkable haste.
[I will ask him myself.]
Lucius nodded, his face sour.
[…It's nothing much, really… um…]
Luid looked at the viewing crystal with a face sour and cooled like over-salted soup.
"Spit it out already, Mom."
Victoria's face was the very picture of wounded feelings.
[My, you're all grown up now, are you…? You won't even call me Mama anymore.]
Luid prayed that of all words, at least this one would somehow vanish from existence.
Where on earth do you find a twelve-year-old still saying 'Mama'?
But he couldn't very well dig in his heels in the face of that monumentally wounded expression.
"…Mama."
Victoria's face lit up like the dawn.
"Anyway — what happened?"
He'd already figured it out, truth be told. When Victoria hemmed and hawed like this, it meant the outcome wasn't good.
What the hell? Even after using the Mom Card, it failed?
Luid couldn't comprehend it.
[W-well… instead of Headmaster, how does honorary professor sound? Of course, it's perfectly fine if you don't want it. Mama is always on your side, Luid. The conditions are a little favorable, I suppose, but compared to you, they're not precious to me in the slightest.]
Victoria was not one to talk at length.
That went for herself as well — and yet right now, she was talking rather a lot.
"…What exactly are these conditions?"
Luid caught on at once, asking with eyes full of suspicion. Victoria hesitated yet again.
[The conditions don't matter one bit. All that matters is my son's will. If even the tiniest speck of you doesn't want to do it, then you needn't do it at all.]
"The. Conditions."
[……Ahem.]
Victoria cleared her throat once, then spoke carefully.
[…It has been decided that you shall be granted the Larden Fief. As the condition for your becoming an honorary professor.]
"……."
Luid blinked.
He couldn't quite make sense of what he'd just heard.
The Larden Fief — wasn't that a literal treasure trove of land?
[If you accept this offer, then it will have been something you obtained, so the Larden Fief would be yours, and yours alone—]
"I'll do it."
Luid answered without a moment's hesitation.