Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Emperor's Secret Command
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The heavy doors of the audience chamber closed shut, and only after all the boisterous attendees had withdrawn did a profound silence finally settle over the throne.
Emperor Siegmund silently gazed down at the now-empty hall, savoring the lingering echoes of the myriad emotions that had filled it moments before.
Awe and envy directed at one young man, along with that earth-shattering declaration, still seemed to linger in the air.
Propping his chin on his hand, the emperor let out a low chuckle.
'A chicken.'
The dazed expressions on the ministers' faces as they exchanged glances.
Instead of the finest warhorses to lead the empire's future cavalry, he wanted mere chickens—something a frontier housewife might raise.
In their eyes, Jonathan Valerius must have seemed either bereft of judgment or a petty soul whose ambitions were that small.
But the emperor saw the sharp intellect and chilling political acumen hidden behind that answer.
'Abandoning the horse was truly a wise move.'
The emperor's proposal of warhorse breeding was no mere reward.
It was a test—and bait to draw him deeper into the empire's political maelstrom.
The position of breeding warhorses for the imperial cavalry. A role that promised immense power and influence just by its name.
Yet it was equally a thorny path, fraught with blades flying from every direction.
The moment he bit, Jonathan would be ensnared in the long-standing intrigues of countless ministers and nobles.
The traditional horse-breeding families that dominated the army's stables would weave every scheme to eliminate this upstart powerhouse.
Showered with imperial favor, every action of his would be scrutinized under a magnifying glass, and even a minor mistake could be packaged as evidence of treason. A dangerously precarious seat.
But that young man had pierced through all those traps and, without a hint of hesitation, pushed away the sweet poisoned chalice.
And then, as if to flaunt it, he donned the mask of a fool no one could have anticipated: chickens.
A delighted smile crept onto the emperor's lips as he mulled it over.
'Hiding your claws by cloaking yourself in foolishness.'
To the ministers, he might have looked like a dimwit aspiring to be a mere chicken farmer, but not in the emperor's eyes.
By stepping one pace aside from the turbid heart of politics, he evaded all arrows of scrutiny.
At the same time, without losing imperial favor, he secured exactly the practical gains he truly desired.
No one would seriously bother to check a rural lord raising chickens. How cunning, how perfect a ploy.
'Amusing. Most amusing, Jonathan, man favored by the daughter of this land.'
The emperor's certainty had its reasons.
After all, had he not witnessed the miracle that man had wrought with his own eyes?
When tomato sauce first graced the imperial table, he had dismissed it as merely a novelty delicacy.
But soon, reports flooded in from across the empire.
In remote outposts, soldiers' morale soared to the heavens; in relief centers, children left food on their plates for the first time; even the Papal Court had repackaged it into a new doctrine.
And arrabbiata. That took it further.
A new frenzy sweeping the empire.
A simple condiment had altered imperial law, flushing out tax evaders in the process and filling the national treasury.
Field commanders and civil administrators unanimously reported that his creation was no mere food—it held the power to sway hearts and reshape society.
The emperor had experienced the ripple effects of the waves that man created, through all those reports and his own senses. Thus, he was more convinced than anyone.
'The chickens he wants won't be ordinary, that's for sure.'
Just as tomatoes became a crimson jewel upending the empire's tables, chickens and eggs, passing through that young man's hands, would surely unleash another unimaginable storm to astonish the empire once more.
"Hmmm."
Gazing out at the vast gardens beyond the window, the emperor was already swept up in anticipation.
What new flavors, what new miracles would chickens bring? And this time, how would he make the empire's ministers and people dance upon his palm?
A thick smile spread across the emperor's lips at the mere thought, filling him with delight.
On the grand chessboard of the empire, he felt as though he had gained a new knight shaking the board with utterly unforeseen moves.
'Having seen the measure of his vessel, it is a sovereign's duty to treat him accordingly.'
The emperor suddenly recalled the tournament finals from years ago.
The longsword he had personally bestowed upon him as victory's prize, emblazoned with the Valerius crest.
That fresh-faced youth had now become a lord crafting imperial law, boldly strutting before seasoned ministers and central nobles.
"Not a stallion, but..."
The emperor murmured lowly.
"I suppose I should send a fine palfrey as a personal gift. He can't very well ride a chicken to the palace."
"Moreover, since my daughter seems quite taken with him, it befits a father to make it look good."
This was no imperial grant from the throne, but pure goodwill from Siegmund the man to the intriguing young Jonathan—and an investment in his future moves.
In all the years since ascending the throne, it had been ages since he last anticipated one person's future so keenly.
The emperor returned to the throne and leaned back deeply.
"Come to think of it..."
After the territory conferral ceremony, his daughter had mentioned some business with that man and left the banquet alone with him.
A fatal hunt by the empire's leader's prized predator, in a place where none could interfere.
How far had her hunt progressed by now? Or had she already claimed her prize and fallen into ecstatic bliss?
A mischievous smile played on the emperor's lips, and he soon rang the small silver bell beside the throne.
At the clear chime, the white-haired Imperial Chamberlain emerged soundlessly from the shadows and bowed.
"You called for me, Your Majesty."
"Did you see it too? That sly young fox claiming his share amid the old wolves."
Genuine amusement filled the emperor's voice. The chamberlain merely bowed silently.
"The warhorse was bait. The moment he bit, fangs from all sides would converge on him. But he didn't just avoid the bait—he donned the fool's garb of chickens and slipped away unscathed. And with everything he wanted from me to boot."
The emperor turned and headed back to the throne as he commanded.
"Chamberlain. Inform the stables. From my prized purebred desert horses, select the handsomest one with a mane like moonlight and prepare it for the young lord of Valerius."
Though low, the emperor's voice brimmed with cheer.
"Equip it with the finest saddle and tack, emblazoned with the imperial crest. It's a small gift compared to his contributions to the empire, but as a present to one my daughter holds dear, not a single detail can be overlooked."
"I shall obey."
"Heh, the real hunt begins now."
At the emperor's soliloquy, the chamberlain voiced concern for the first time in his life, cautiously.
"Your Majesty. The Princess seems overly forward, and this old servant fears there may be complications."
At those words, the emperor sat upon the throne and laughed heartily.
"Lions recognize lions. My daughter chose her mate herself. A betrothal? How could a childish promise from youth eclipse the empire's sun? Binding a man of that caliber to some tepid vow would be the empire's true loss."
The emperor's crimson eyes seemed to gaze beyond the throne, toward the distant lands of Kandoria.
A sovereign's smile, piercing all, graced his lips.
"Whether that young man turns the tables and becomes the new master of the empire by ensnaring my daughter, or slips her grasp to build a new kingdom with his chickens, or takes her in his arms to sire an imperial heir for me—I'll simply watch with pleasure."
With a satisfied smile, he added his final words.
"Whichever it is, it's a profitable venture for the empire. Kah kah kah. Ah, right."
"? Is there something else, Your Majesty?"
At the man's question, a roguish smile lit the emperor's face.
"Before the new lord departs the palace, when handing over the saddled palfrey, relay a message."
"A message, sire?"
"Once he crafts a new sauce from the chickens obtained, the first fruits born from the ones I bestowed shall grant me the right to taste it foremost. See that he doesn't forget."
At the words of the empire's sun, his most loyal retainer stared at his sovereign with an expression of 'he's at it again.'
But soon, the chamberlain bowed deeply before the emperor and withdrew without a sound.
Left alone once more, the emperor leaned back against the throne, emitting a satisfied laugh.
"Kah kah kah... Yes, play as you will."
An incantation directed at Jonathan—or perhaps his daughter—unheard by any.
Yet his face bore a smile of genuine enjoyment.
"I shall watch it all leisurely from this throne."
Meanwhile, as the empire's sun concluded his conversation with his right hand...
The princess had surely requested a private audience for the operation of the Imperial Food Safety Administration and its formal legalization going forward.
Yes. That was definitely it. It was... so how did it...
"Hehe, do you like it?"
"Eek...! Your Highness the Princess! Th-this is...!"
Wh-what the hell happened?!