Founding Festival (5)
I cast a sidelong glance at the Emperor.
This was a warning straight from my Noah instincts. This Emperor definitely possessed a terrifying power.
Then those steppe brats should know it too. Their beastly instincts ought to be sharper than mine.
“Your Majesty.”
Unable to hold back any longer, I downed my drink and called out to him.
Before I knew it, the Emperor was already pouring fresh liquor into my cup.
This was real trouble. In front of the steppe tribes, this was a disaster.
The steppes had no concept of a parliament. Those ignorant steppe bastards, unless they studied abroad, were frogs in a well who could never properly grasp that the Imperial family had stepped back from absolute monarchy and created a parliamentary safety device to ensure the Empire’s thousand-year continuity.
At first I’d thought they would at least notice with their own eyes, but seeing these ignorant fools today, they still seemed to believe imperial power was absolute.
And right in the middle of that sat a woman receiving liquor from that very Emperor.
It would take no time at all to brand her as the Empire’s true power behind the throne.
“Ahh, fuck.”
I couldn’t help but swear.
“What’s the matter?”
“How could I possibly receive liquor before Your Majesty? As a subject, this…”
I was about to say it was improper, but that damned woman was already pouring more liquor.
Has she completely lost her mind?
“You’re my teacher, so what’s the harm? As long as it’s fun, that’s enough.”
Fun? This was not it. Fuck. Fighting Pector might have been the most entertaining stretch of my entire life.
What I was enduring now was no different from being treated as someone above the Emperor himself.
“An Emperor shouldn’t talk about fun in matters like this.”
Where in the world does an Emperor embarrass his own teacher just for fun?
Even the Empire’s nobles were accepting it as completely natural.
Any nobles who might have opposed had long since had their heads chopped off by the Emperor, and these ones weren’t exactly sycophants—they were lords of their own territories, and after decades of watching this Emperor they had simply grown used to him.
Meanwhile I would look like a being above the Emperor to those steppe country bumpkins!
“Please accept my liquor as well.”
Celia slyly poured liquor into her own cup.
“Haah. I’m going crazy.”
Already many faces were glancing my way.
The Empire’s nobles had marked me in an entirely different sense. It made sense—they had seen the Ashtar clan, the Saintess, the Taesa herself in action, so they could no longer treat me as just some young lady.
If not that…
Perhaps among them were still those who saw me as nothing more than a noble young lady discarded by the Crown Prince, her usefulness spent.
They might have changed their view after this performance.
Nobles and steppe folk alike—I was thoroughly sick of them all.
“So. What do you make of them?”
The Emperor asked me.
“Honestly, not much.”
They were truly boring as hell.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. No fun, no excitement. I just want this Founding Festival to end soon.”
I hate bothersome things like this. Really.
I’d rather go out and thrash the Demon King’s army.
Next time, should I just desert the Empire entirely and drop meteors on the Demon Realm to draw Seto and Clanis’s attention?
Come to think of it, why hadn’t I done that already?
If I had, those bastards would show up in front of me just to keep the Demon King’s army going.
Though meeting Pector would be a bit burdensome.
The Demon Realm isn’t part of the territory covered by my promise with Pector.
“Still, don’t you like my gift? To the steppe folk, you’ll appear as a being above the Emperor. To the nobles, you’ve completely shed the mask of the young lady cast aside by Aslan. You’ve become a personage who even receives liquor from a dynasty of fifteen hundred years’ legitimacy.”
Fifteen hundred years. Yeah. That’s good. An Imperial house with that much legitimacy.
Honestly, it’s amazing that this Imperial house has lasted that long.
How did they really make it fifteen hundred years?
Kingdoms are small so they can manage, but this country is truly impressive.
Staring at the Emperor, irritation welled up.
Anyway, he lives such a carefree life.
“I never wanted such a position, though.”
I already have enough positions as it is. Fine, changing my impression among the nobles is good. I’ll concede that. I don’t care how the steppe bastards see me either. The problem is why it has to be tied to power and politics.
Besides, the Aslan incident had already poured sympathy my way after he got involved with that pseudo-succubus Lily.
Today was nothing more than a finishing blow to elevate my authority.
“By the way, the steppe bastards are quieter than I expected.”
“What do you mean?”
The Emperor asked Celia.
“I mean those Turkaran guys.”
“Hmm. That’s true enough.”
“Since they’re steppe folk, didn’t they just submit to power?”
Wasn’t it their law to submit to those stronger than themselves?
Even when the Ban tribe founded the Empire, they served as its underlings because they had submitted to the Empire’s founder at the time, right?
It’s absurd that they’re still continuing that connection to this day.
“For that, the one called Orkan didn’t seem to know his place.”
“Who knows. He might still be targeting our Taesa.”
Targeting the Taesa, huh.
Honestly, if so, good. I can catch him with my own hands.
Just catch him without anyone knowing, and that’s that. Steppe or whatever.
“Hmm, if so, should I send some palace maids to your bed tonight?”
“Is there a need to take Orkan’s head?”
Imperial palace maids were nominally noble daughters. Sending them to spend the night wouldn’t be for that—considering their original identity as the Assassin Guild, it meant he’d kill them.
“Honestly, isn’t it a waste giving supplies to those beggars? In other words, it’s just out of old sentiment and hoping they don’t cause trouble on the steppes.”
That was true too. Honestly, those steppe folk had no conscience.
Always going on about steppe traditions while taking everything they could get.
Honestly, that level of support wasn’t much of a blow to the Empire. Compared to the aid that went to the kingdoms fighting the Demon King’s army, it was probably just a grain of sand in the desert.
But. Fine, whatever. Supporting beggars is something a great nation can do. But aren’t they taking it as if it’s their due?
All the Empire gets from the steppes are horses and sturdy livestock. Even that is just formal when you consider what the Empire produces itself.
Hmm. Thinking about it calmly, I’ve become a full-fledged Imperial myself. Never thought I’d think this way.
“Why give them anything at all? You could just blockade the steppes and let them tear each other apart.”
Celia said something sensible for once.
As a mage of the Magic Tower, the Empire’s affairs probably didn’t matter much to her. But it was because of that Orkan bastard, no doubt.
I hate that bandit-like guy too.
“Geographically, they’re stuck to the Empire like part of it. Even so, if those guys go crazy, they can easily field tens of thousands of troops. Looking at the terrain, the Empire borders both the Demon Realm and the kingdoms.”
What the Emperor wanted to say was that if we cut ties and leave them be, they might stab us in the back later when we’re fighting the Demon Realm or sending aid to the kingdoms.
Obvious. Even the Ban tribe alone had quarreled with the Kart Kingdom and launched a war of conquest.
“And it’s not like the noble bastards would cut into their own flesh to maintain a blockade around the steppes.”
That was right too.
“As for conquering the steppes… wiping them all out feels icky, and there are the eyes of neighboring countries.”
In the end, there were many things weighing on the Empire.
Especially the eyes of outsiders. Because of that, the Empire had no choice but to put on a show of keeping the old loyalties.
Anyway, being a great nation wasn’t all good.
The country that had to keep up the most appearances was the Empire.
Suddenly it felt like my work at this Founding Festival was done.
Just stay quiet like this, I thought, and shoveled more food into my mouth.
“By the way, the palace food is really…”
“Isn’t it delicious?”
“It is delicious, yes.”
Yeah. Let’s indulge in the luxuries I never experienced as Noah.
“Please try this as well, Lady Olivia.”
It would have been better if you didn’t keep feeding me, but anyway, to escape the reality of this beggarly Founding Festival, I kept devouring the food.
And on the third day, as the Founding Festival ended, the Ashtar Duke called me aside separately.
As the Founding Festival drew to a close, the Ashtar Duke summoned me separately.
Even if I said it was disgusting and that I hated it, this was a Duke who somehow always tried to tie me to Ashtar.
Why was he calling me again? This eccentric fellow.
Should I treat him with the utmost care this time?
Or, since I received liquor even from the Emperor, slap him once more for rudeness?
Or perhaps lavish praise for showing Ashtar’s power to those steppe country bumpkins.
Either way, my chest ached.
“Olivia.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You’ve worked hard. Yes. Are you unhurt?”
Hurt? Not entirely. From that bandit bastard targeting me came intense humiliation and shame, plus the ridiculous title of the Empire’s hidden power broker as a bonus.
And what made it persuasive was that the parliament had many from Ashtar.
The Taesa and Saintess of the Empire whom even the Emperor poured liquor for.
Plus the parliament with real power bases. Half of that parliament from Ashtar Territory.
Doesn’t the answer just come out?
To the obedient nobles who kept their wits and rode the times, I would truly look like the Empire’s hidden power.
Thinking that, I clenched my fist tightly.
Yeah. Even if I hang the profession of mage, I’ll only be known as the Empire’s hidden power now.
Archmage? That’s out the window.
“Yes. Well, that’s right.”
“That’s a relief then. There’s something I’m curious about. Answer me honestly.”
The Ashtar Duke set the mood.
Well, what are you going to do. Fine. Speak.