An Audience
Clang— Clang—
The clear chime of the bell was immediately followed by the light, hurried patter of footsteps. Amelia, my maid, had undoubtedly bolted straight out of bed. I pulled myself up and slid out from beneath the sheets as well. I had no desire to play hospitable host to whoever lacked the basic decency not to ring someone's bell at such an ungodly hour.
Still, it's not like I can turn them away.
In the Imperial Capital, I happened to be quite—no, extraordinarily—famous. Former designated member of the Hero's party, the jackpot winner who had walked away with over forty billion liras, and most recently, an upstart parachuted into nobility by imperial decree as a newly minted baron. Anyone who knew all that and still came knocking at the crack of dawn had to be someone who didn't give a damn about my status.
"Um, Master?"
"I'll get it."
When I opened the front door, an old colleague of mine—a knight of the Imperial Guard—was staring straight at me. Beside him stood a high-ranking official from the Court Department, looking thoroughly haggard. It was the very same gentleman who had delivered my gold scroll not so long ago.
"…Baron Wellesley, by imperial command. You are to enter the palace immediately."
"The palace?"
"Yes. I realize this is sudden, but…"
"It's quite alright. Just grant me a moment to dress properly."
Without raising a single objection, I promptly readied myself for departure. Questioning why the Emperor summoned you was a fool's errand. The face-to-face interrogation of the Second Prince had wrapped up only a few hours ago; even without seeing it for myself, the atmosphere in the palace was almost certainly in shambles right now.
There was zero chance the Second Prince had managed to talk his way out with that silver tongue of his. They say you can survive even the jaws of a dragon if you keep your wits about you, but once you've slid down into its stomach, no trick in the world will save you.
His sentence is probably already decided. And summoning me in the middle of all that means…
While I pondered the situation in the carriage, my former colleague broke the silence. His name was Alan, a five-year veteran of the Guard. He was one of the men who had sided with Celine to eye my Kodana coins. Still, I harbored no particular grudge against him. Not because I was a paragon of magnanimity, but because I had made my exit well before any real threat could touch me.
"Eric."
"It's Baron Wellesley."
"…I know you're thrilled about receiving a title, but talking down to me like—"
"I'm not asking for pleasantries. I'm telling you to respect a title conferred directly by His Majesty's decree. Would it look proper for a newly appointed court noble—the first in years—to be treated with contempt, least of all by a knight of the Imperial Guard?"
"……"
"Anyway, was there something you wanted to say?"
Alan stared at me for a beat, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk.
"Just that an order to enter the palace at this ungodly hour is hardly ordinary. I'm merely a knight, so I don't know the details, but I do know the Imperial Chapel was under a suffocating cloud all afternoon."
"Ah, is that so?"
"Dawn is nearly upon us, yet His Majesty hasn't retired to his bedchamber. He remains in his office."
"My, my. Robust as His Majesty may be, working until this hour is quite something."
"I only worry that our dear Baron might find himself in a rather uncomfortable spot."
As if he actually cared. While he might not be on his knees before the Goddess's statue praying for my ruin, he clearly wouldn't mind seeing me backed into a corner. Unfortunately for Alan, the odds of me landing in hot water were virtually zero. I simply gave the visibly exhausted knight a faint nod.
"Thank you for your concern. Whatever happens from here on out, Sir Alan, I won't forget your parting words."
"……"
While we exchanged our pleasantries, the carriage rolled through the palace grounds. Moments later, without having had the chance to even splash water on my face, I stepped into the Emperor's private office.
Having clawed my way up from commoner roots, I was naturally endowed with a healthy dose of audacity, yet a prickle of tension was unavoidable. Keeping my eyes lowered, I moved forward and offered a formal bow.
"I greet the Sun of the Empire."
Standard protocol called for stringing along greasy flatteries after that greeting, but this time, I held my tongue. An emperor who had just spent the entire night interrogating his own flesh and blood—unable to sleep a single wink—hardly wanted to hear sycophantic drivel. Sure enough, the Emperor merely gestured with a wave of his hand, his eyes laden with exhaustion.
"I summoned you because there are matters I wish to ask of you. Let us make this quick."
I observed the monarch without crossing into insolence. A man in his late forties; despite the ungodly hour, healthy color lingered on his mature features as his gaze weighed down upon me.
The current Emperor was by no means an incompetent ruler. It was improper to judge a man I was seeing up close for the very first time, but truly, no other description fit. He was neither a tyrant nor a benevolent monarch. His reign consisted entirely of prudently wielding military might and state coffers to safeguard imperial authority. The empire had concluded its grand campaigns of conquest two generations prior, bringing eighty percent of mankind beneath its rule; as a result, its sovereign had rarely faced opportunities to prove extraordinary genius or moral greatness. In all likelihood, this Kodana incident was the greatest crisis of his reign.
After a heavy silence, the Emperor spoke.
"…I am aware that you recently made contact with the Hero while he was hiding within the capital."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"I do not raise this to interrogate your motives. I have already questioned the mages operating every communication crystal in the capital accessible to you. You were summoned without knowing why and met him unsuspectingly, correct?"
"That is correct, Your Majesty."
"I also know that you refused the Hero's proposal to purchase the seventy Kodana coins held by the Second Prince… though I will not ask why. Having spent time around the Hero, you must have known he was not a man to be trusted."
"I must apologize for failing to report the Hero's dubious offer. I believed it imprudent to disclose the movements of a Hero who was operating covertly."
"I understand."
So he already knew everything before summoning me. No doubt the result of turning the Second Prince's attendants inside out. Nor did he seem to have summoned me to track down the Hero's whereabouts; he had likely already dispatched agents to the safehouse where the Second Prince had hidden him.
Not that Kwon Hee-jin would sit quietly waiting there. So why in the world did he summon me…?
The Emperor promptly resolved my question.
"…The Minister of Justice informed me that you are one of the market's few true survivors. Many reaped profits, to be sure, but I am told that you alone survived not by dumb luck, but through pure, calculated acumen. …Therefore, I wish to borrow your counsel."
"How could someone like me—"
"Speak plainly."
How might we contain this catastrophe as swiftly as possible? The Emperor put the question to me, his face betraying little expectation. Being dragged out at dawn for this felt absurd, but I had neither the authority to refuse nor any reason to.
The Emperor had reached several momentous decisions today. It was no exaggeration to call them the most agonizing resolutions of his entire reign.
First, he had stripped the Second Prince—his own son—of imperial status. This was not merely revoking the privileges and standing of a legitimate son; he had stripped him of every shred of imperial courtesy. No grand ducal coronet customarily granted to a son removed from the succession, nor any noble title whatsoever, would be bestowed upon him.
Next came the confiscation of his fortune. The 46.5 billion lira the Second Prince had pocketed by knifing the Holy Kingdom in the back was naturally confiscated. Bitter clashes between the church and the aristocracy had prevented any agreement on how to allocate the funds, but the seizure itself was absolute. The five billion lira the Hero had paid in exchange for safe passage was seized as well.
The final sentence was expulsion from the palace. Nor did this mean simply ushering him beyond the palace gates. He was to be confined outside the capital. While his final destination remained undecided, it would almost certainly take the form of house arrest. If even that proved insufficient to quell the outrage, harsher measures might become necessary—though the Emperor would do what he could to at least spare his son's life.
Deposition, confiscation, banishment. Putting aside the Second Prince's fate, one monumental task remained: weathering the catastrophic storm poised to batter the capital in just a few short hours.
He had sought counsel from several advisors, but none could offer a solution. Just as suffocation threatened to overwhelm him, the Minister of Justice had brought up the name of Eric Wellesley. The Emperor hadn't held high expectations; he had summoned him purely on the off chance he might have something to offer. Once morning broke, after all, it would already be too late. Fortunately, an emperor was someone who possessed the prerogative to wake a sleeping nobleman in the dead of night simply to ask a single question.
"Speak your mind freely."
At the Emperor's urging, Eric seemed to mull over his thoughts for a moment before speaking with measured care.
"…Your Majesty. Above all else, the assets seized from the Second Prince must not be disbursed to the Holy Kingdom or the nobility in liquid cash. While fifty-one billion is a staggering sum, it remains grossly insufficient to cover the losses they perceive themselves to have suffered. As such, it would be far better kept firmly under Your Majesty's sphere of influence."
What? The Emperor's brow furrowed. At first glance, it sounded preposterous. But as he listened on, he realized it was anything but.
"I do not suggest absorbing it into Your Majesty's personal privy purse. Rather, establish a relief fund to provide in-kind aid to estates facing financial ruin. Handle it this way, and a substantial portion of the nobility will not dare step out of line. Their eyes will be glued entirely to the hand holding the purse strings."
It was remarkably plausible. While 51.5 billion lira was indeed an astronomical fortune, it fell woefully short of satisfying every devastated investor. All the more so considering the bloodbath awaiting the market at dawn. In that case, releasing it selectively and sequentially might indeed be the superior path. Anyone wishing to avoid exclusion from the relief list would naturally fall in line and mind their manners.
This man…
How could he produce such a calculated answer on the spot when hauled out of bed without warning? The Emperor regarded Eric with a trace of dazed disbelief before waving his hand.
"Continue."
"Furthermore, if Your Majesty will forgive my presumption, I believe it would have been wiser to withhold the final sentence on the Second Prince until some time had passed."
"And why is that?"
"Because the investors will need a target to vent their rage upon."
The Emperor grasped the implication instantly. Rather than handing down judgment the moment the interrogation concluded, it would have been far more advantageous to gauge the tide of public fury before determining the severity of the punishment. That way, he could be used more effectively as a lightning rod for their hatred.
It was an audacious remark to make before a father, but this was no time to fuss over protocol. The Hero had fled, and the Holy Kingdom stood on the brink of outright collapse. Fortunately, the Empire alone commanded enough military power to hold the Demon King's army at bay—power monopolized under the Emperor's direct authority. Yet if the aristocracy collapsed en masse and senior bureaucrats sank into despair, even holding the line would become an ordeal. There was no guarantee the Demon King would remain cautious forever.
Before being a father, the Emperor was the sovereign of an empire; he had an unprecedented national crisis to weather.
If I am to quell this internal turmoil as swiftly as possible…
After a moment of contemplation, the Emperor looked back toward Eric and gave his command.
"Remain in the palace for the duration of today."
It was an impromptu decision, born of the need for an advisor on standby to pluck ideas from as the situation unfolded. Truthfully, it was a rather pathetic resort for a ruler. But to mount even the slightest defense against the catastrophe set to sweep through the capital today, he had to take any hand he could grasp.
Eric hesitated for a fraction of a second, then bowed his head to the command. It was a tacit acknowledgment that, when it came to Kodana, no living soul could replace him.
Having reached their understanding, the Emperor and Eric exchanged a bitter glance before looking away, as though both already foresaw just how tumultuous this day would be.
A few hours later, dawn broke.
Ironically enough, the sky was the clearest it had been all year.