Chapter 158: Patriot
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 158: Patriot
Waldemar Golt.
The Golt family was a house of founding contributors, and its descendants had long maintained a reputation befitting that storied legacy.
As is often the case with hereditary nobility, when one generation is exceptional, expectations for the next naturally soar. However, nine times out of ten, those heightened expectations go unfulfilled.
Waldemar Golt’s father had been such a man. He had achieved the greatest feats in the history of the Golt family, and people whispered that Waldemar would never surpass him.
Yet, Waldemar became a Great Grand Duke who eclipsed even his father’s shadow.
He never hesitated. That was the secret to the Grand Duke’s success.
Just as he was proactive in his populist policies and maintained a heroic public image, he was equally bold in his clandestine maneuvers. If someone seemed likely to get in his way, he bypassed them or killed them. He repeated this process without fail.
As Waldemar aged and his experience grew, it became rare for him to hold a younger person in high regard.
Ferda was one of those rare individuals.
‘Ferda Valdrova.’
Ferda Valdrova’s reputation within the Imperial Capital was abysmal. Being tossed away as the Archduchess’s fiancé was a sign that one was useless scrap, and Ferda was exactly that kind of man. Those who believed he was truly a competent Regent and Lord were no different from fools who still believed in childhood fairy tales.
Furthermore, how had he behaved during the procession?
— The man who should be the face of the Archduchy is doing something so stupid…
— As expected, rumors about nobles are just rumors.
Because he had marched with a cold, humorless expression and a gloomy atmosphere, the backlash from the nobility was severe. It was no different from casting a funeral shroud over a festival in full swing. Failing to read the room is a serious matter; in common parlance, he was a bastard with zero social cues.
‘That’s what I thought—until he refused to submit.’
To Waldemar, the murmurs during that refusal sounded different.
Ferda had been driven into a corner. Refusing to submit to the conclusion of the Crisis Response Headquarters was an act that undermined all authority. It was a move no one in their right mind would make. Moreover, it was an insolent act that showed no respect to Waldemar, who was hailed as a hero of the people.
‘But I shouldn't have let him speak then.’
Waldemar admitted to himself that it was a mistake born of his own complacency. He never imagined that the small opening he gave the man to self-destruct would be used to flip the entire board.
That mechanical, socially oblivious man had spoken with genuine emotion for the sake of his fiancée. That emotion was imbued with a greater cause, gaining the power to captivate the audience. As if his kneeling had merely been to gain momentum, he had struck a vulnerable spot and soared upward.
Because of that, Waldemar could no longer shape public opinion to claim that this disaster happened because the Far East failed in its defense. He had to refresh the tilted atmosphere. That was why he had deferred the decision and adjourned the session.
‘Ferda Valdrova, is it…?’
Waldemar recalled the name and the information in his head. He weighed them on the scales of his heart.
How much was that fellow truly worth?
“Elder.”
It was then. Alexander walked toward him, interrupting his thoughts. Waldemar read the look in Alexander’s eyes. They were full of discontent.
“I have nothing to say to you right now. Leave.”
Waldemar stepped past him, ignoring him entirely.
“Is this not different from what we discussed?”
“And what did we discuss? Was it not that I would spare your life?”
“That is true, but—”
“For a severed head, it’s attached quite well. The Dullahans would be envious.”
“It’s not like that…! If you entrust that proxy role to my brother—to that fellow who is currently receiving all the expectations—how is that any different from putting me on a death clock?!”
Alexander shrieked. Waldemar sighed and turned his head. His face shone with chilling contempt.
“You fool. How can you not see that this is for the best?”
“How is it the best when the opportunity has passed to my brother?”
“If you had managed to produce even one prince in your spare time, there would have been no need to go this far.”
Alexander’s face turned bright red.
“Th-that is…”
“Why? Are you ashamed? Yes, you should be. The world rumors that the Crown Princess has a body unsuitable for conception, but you know the real problem lies with you.”
“…”
“The way you’re hanging your head right now is exactly like that limp thing between your legs.”
Waldemar merely clicked his tongue, but Alexander’s shins felt numb. His spirit completely broken, Alexander couldn't even muster a retort.
“I’ll say it again: I gave you an opportunity, brat.”
“An opportunity?”
“The throne is a seat where one must endure all manner of disgrace. Pulling someone down is easy; holding on is the hard part. How many years did you hold on there?”
“Ten… ten years.”
“Right. Ten years is enough time to learn how to write with your eyes closed. Just looking at a map of the Empire should bring the landscape vividly to life. You should know where the rot is and where the crisis is about to explode.”
Waldemar patted Alexander on the shoulder.
“In terms of information, you already have the upper hand over Ureas. This is a game where you start five moves ahead and three points up. If you can’t win from there, wouldn’t it be easier on your heart to just give up?”
“I apologize, Elder. I spoke out of turn…”
“Enough.”
He had no expectations for Alexander anyway.
“Did you do what I asked?”
“Yes, of course. They were very proactive in their cooperation.”
“Good. That’s how it should be…”
The plan was proceeding smoothly. Nevertheless, the worry on his face showed no sign of fading. His mind was filled with only one woman.
“There is one thing I am curious about.”
“Please, speak.”
“About Olivia.”
Waldemar leaned in and asked.
“What is the relationship between that child and the Regent?”
“Huh? Well… they’ve become close through many conversations, but it’s not as a man and woman.”
“Are you certain?”
“O-of course! No matter what, she’s the bitch I see the most; how could I not know her inner thoughts? The Regent is just one of the many fish in her pond.”
Alexander spoke with certainty, but those words only made Waldemar more suspicious.
Waldemar was a man praised as a hero of the people. To maintain that, he needed the ability to see through people’s hearts, and he believed he knew himself well enough. Therefore, he also knew Olivia’s state well.
She always wore a mask, trying to escape difficulties by bringing men to her side. Olivia performed that precarious tightrope walk brilliantly. A coldness dwelled within her seemingly warm smile, and a stubbornness that pierced the ear was contained within her fluttering voice.
‘But that Olivia…’
The look in Olivia’s eyes as she looked up at Ferda was different. Seeing that face brought back a woman he had tucked away in the far reaches of his memory.
Stella Arken.
‘The woman of destiny who should have been mine.’
But that destiny had scattered fruitlessly like cherry blossoms. Waldemar had grieved. He grieved her selfishness in denying destiny. He grieved the cold death that destiny had carved out.
That grief was enough once. There would be no more tragedies.
Waldemar decided to send a letter.
* * *
After the adjournment, Ferda headed to his lodgings. They were staying at a high-end inn for nobles. A single room was spacious enough, but Ferda had rented out the entire luxury establishment.
That wasn't all. For double security, he had pitched field tents to thoroughly plug any leaks. Count Consilus, accompanied by his subordinates, checked the security and returned to the tent to report.
“All windows have been checked, and there are no suspicious individuals within the perimeter.”
“Good work, Count.”
“It was nothing. A simple task like this…”
“It’s not just the security check. I’m expressing my gratitude for your hard work at the Golden Council as well.”
At that, Consilus chuckled.
“Regarding that, I am the one who is grateful. Since coming to the Far East, I’ve rarely had the chance to stand before the Golden Council…”
If another noble had said it, Ferda might have thought it was an obsession with the Council, but coming from Consilus, it sounded like a sincere desire to stand as a representative of the Far East.
“Now, we must prepare for tomorrow.”
“If there is anything this old man can do to help, please say the word. I will follow you gladly.”
Consilus bowed politely, placing a hand over his heart.
“I’m sorry, but it’s better if you don’t get involved from this point on.”
“May I ask why you think so?”
“Trying to protect me clumsily might cause a backlash. Please just watch from the sidelines for now.”
“Hmm…”
Consilus couldn't bring himself to say he understood. The future of the Far East rested on Ferda’s shoulders. He looked at Ferda with worried eyes before finally answering.
“I understand. This old man will watch over you, Regent.”
Consilus offered his respects and prepared to leave. Just as he was about to step out, a knight standing guard pulled back the tent flap and spoke to him.
“Regent.”
The knight handed something to Consilus, who walked back to Ferda to deliver it. Consilus’s expression was grim.
“A letter has arrived.”
Ferda opened the letter. Its contents were short and powerful.
— I shall prepare a carriage. Come alone.
The signature read: Waldemar Golt.
Ferda decided to accept the invitation.
* * *
A carriage stood before Ferda, and it entered the Imperial Palace. He had clearly come at Golt’s invitation, but there were three or four times more people welcoming him than when Olivia had greeted him.
It was ironic to the point of absurdity. He was a guest here, yet they treated him as if he were the master of the house.
Ferda headed to the drawing room where Waldemar was waiting.
“Welcome, Regent Ferda.”
“I greet the Grand Duke.”
“Let’s not waste time with useless greetings or etiquette. People like us don’t need such things, do we?”
If he was going to put it that way, Ferda was only grateful.
“Understood.”
Ferda walked forward, his back straight. Waldemar gestured to a servant. As if they had been prepared, the servant brought out a teapot and alcohol. A perfectly steeped black tea was placed in front of Ferda, while a whiskey with ice was set before Waldemar.
Ferda drank the tea without a word.
“Watching what you do… it truly is admirable.”
Waldemar stirred his ice and took a drink.
“I didn't undervalue you, but I didn't overvalue you either. I thought I had prepared just enough, but you caught me off guard.”
“Is that so?”
“Young man, you can be a bit more pleased. It’s very rare for me to praise someone. You’re far superior to that fellow Alexander.”
“Being compared to the Crown Prince doesn't make it sound any more pleasant.”
“That fellow has a streak of idiocy, but he has quick wits. He knows exactly which side to cling to in order to survive.”
Waldemar chuckled.
“So, seeing as you likely prepared for this deferment and probably have a rough idea of what’s being plotted next, let’s talk about that.”
Ferda wondered if this was a cheap trick to dig for information. But it was different from such tricks.
“About the young Lord Yurei.”
Ferda was surprised by those words. He hadn't expected Waldemar to bring that up so openly.
“Your informants have likely noticed by now, but Duke Yurei has arrived inside.”
“Is that so?”
“Since he fell into debt, he’s been no different from a toothless tiger. But even so, he’s not to be ignored. Do you know why?”
“Because he has nothing left to lose.”
Waldemar nodded.
“They say the grief of losing a child is immense. When it manifests, it takes extreme forms. Either rage or resignation. Consilus chose resignation, and Yurei chose rage.”
“I see.”
“Do you think you can stop that rage?”
Ferda didn't know. Rage was like fire. Once it grew large enough, it was something even Ferda couldn't underestimate. Seeing Ferda’s inability to answer easily, Waldemar continued as if that itself was an answer.
“You seem to be a man far wiser than I imagined, so this conversation should be easy. First, I must have another drink. How about you?”
“I still have half left.”
“I see. I’ll just drink mine, then.”
A servant cleared the glass that held only ice and placed a new one before him.
“Do you know how I’ve survived in this world until now?”
“I do not.”
“It’s because I am a patriot. The reason I haven't retired even at this age is that I still have a heart that worries for this country.”
He spoke as he downed the whiskey.
“The Empire is in a state of chaos right now. Rural farmers who should be tilling the land have gathered to become thugs, disturbing the peace. They are becoming rats that gnaw away at the nation.”
Ferda wondered if this was drunken nonsense, but there wasn't a hint of wavering in Waldemar’s eyes. Curious, Ferda asked him.
“If you love this country so much, couldn't you just lead it yourself?”
He had the ability to bypass the incompetent Emperor and his incompetent children.
“To reign… it’s something that would have been possible if I had set my mind to it.”
Waldemar gave a short laugh, looking at Ferda as if the question were cute.
“But what would happen if I dragged the Emperor down? The rising of a new sun signifies immediate political chaos. That is the path of a fool blindly climbing the mountain of power, not the path of a patriot. I do not desire such a thing.”
Within those words, there was one truth that could be acknowledged: if he had truly set his mind to it, he could have indeed ascended to the position of Emperor.
Having finished two glasses of whiskey, Waldemar smacked his lips.
“I want to ask you. Are you a patriot?”
“Yes.”
“Was I too vague? My question was whether you could die if this Empire told you to die.”
“I cannot.”
Ferda answered bluntly.
“Even today, the Empire tried to strip me bare. How could I offer my loyalty?”
“Do you not wish to be a dog?”
“I am already a dog. However, just as there cannot be two suns under heaven, I have only one master.”
Normally, Waldemar would have scoffed at such words, but he didn't. He merely stared at Ferda, so Ferda asked him directly.
“Will you punish me for not being a patriot?”
“Why would I do that? The rats already make up more than half of the Golden Council. I could change the landscape by killing them all, but I won't. History repeats itself anyway.”
No matter how superhuman one might be, one cannot change the hearts of all men.
“More than anything, I received a promise from the Emperor.”
And above all, there was only one thing he was obsessed with.
“So, I cannot help but ask you.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“What do you think of Imperial Princess Olivia?”
When her name was mentioned, Ferda looked into Waldemar’s eyes. They contained the smoldering blood energy of a man.
Or perhaps, it was an indescribable obsession and madness.