The Empire's Founding Principle Is Reward and Punishment
The Empire's Founding Principle Is Reward and Punishment
Having lost his entire support base in an instant because of Daniel Steiner, the prince was forced, half-reluctantly, to raise the white flag.
With the prince conceding the succession struggle, Selvia was able to exercise her influence over the capital and the imperial palace without further hindrance.
After a month of observing from the sidelines, Emperor Bertram decided that further delay served no purpose and summoned the Empire's key figures to the imperial palace's grand hall under the pretext of selecting a successor.
Naturally, Daniel Steiner was counted among those "key figures of the Empire."
Being invited to the imperial palace for a momentous national decision was an immense honor—but for Daniel, the occasion brought nothing but discomfort.
'I'd rather go back to my quarters, have a cup of coffee, and read a book...'
He had no idea why any of this had to happen on a golden weekend.
Suppressing a quiet sigh, Daniel glanced around at his surroundings.
He could see the court ministers, including Duke Belvar, all gathered in the grand hall, where the imperial palace's splendor and refined architectural style stood out.
Alongside them, general-grade officers, the military's core figures, and ministers charged with the state's key pillars were arrayed in rows.
For Daniel, standing awkwardly among them, this place felt like sitting on a bed of thorns.
'Seems like a fair number of them are glaring this way, too...'
They weren't speaking to him, but every last one of them was watching Daniel from the corner of their eye.
It was only to be expected, if one had to say so, that a mere major would draw the scowls of the high and mighty simply for occupying space in the imperial palace's grand hall.
Thinking it best not to meet anyone's eyes unnecessarily, Daniel stared straight ahead.
There, Emperor Bertram sat upon the imperial throne, clad in the white uniform that symbolized the imperial family.
Perhaps the saying that clothes make the man held true, for the frail figure he had seen in the bedchamber was nowhere to be found.
"Raise your heads. My children."
At Bertram's solemn voice, Selvia and Arno, who had been kneeling on one knee upon the red carpet, lifted their heads.
Selvia and Arno wore the white uniform that symbolized the imperial family as well.
"I trust you are well aware of why I have summoned you two before the many outstanding figures who lead the Empire today."
At Bertram's words, Selvia and Arno swallowed nervously.
The action was the same, but Selvia was tasting exhilaration while Arno was tasting defeat.
"Everyone here knows that my illness worsens by the day and that I cannot properly attend to state affairs. So I will dispense with hollow formalities and speak plainly. Today, in this very place, the successor who will follow behind me shall be chosen."
Since everyone already knew this, they simply remained silent, offering no sign of surprise.
As if pleased by that silence, Bertram let out a low chuckle and looked down at his children.
"Are you two prepared to accept my decision?"
"I shall accept it."
Selvia's answer came immediately.
Arno, however, paused for a moment before opening his mouth.
"I shall... accept it."
Having obtained his children's consent, Bertram nodded once before speaking.
"Then I shall now decide the successor. Selvia von Amberg!"
Selvia, called by name, rose from her spot.
Seeing this, Bertram continued.
"I hold your abilities in high regard and have glimpsed in you the makings of a future emperor. Can you prove that my foresight was not mistaken?"
"Yes. Your Imperial Majesty. I shall prove it without fail."
"Good. From this moment forward, you shall inherit my will and labor for the imperial family and the Empire. Furthermore, keep it firmly in mind that you must respect all the people and usher in a righteous reign."
After addressing Selvia, Bertram swept his gaze across the assembled crowd.
"And let all of you bear witness! She who shall follow behind me is the Imperial Princess, Selvia von Amberg!"
It was a declaration that, the successor having been decided, they were to raise no further objections and lend their full support to Selvia, the next emperor.
Those who grasped the emperor's meaning bowed their heads as one.
─ Yes! Your Imperial Majesty!
The united voices resounded mightily throughout the grand hall.
Having surveyed them with a sharp gaze, Bertram spoke again.
"Now that the successor is decided, I must instruct her in state affairs before it is too late. I intend to entrust the regency to Selvia. What are your thoughts?"
At the word "regency," a stir rippled through the hall for an instant.
While everyone hesitated to give a hasty answer, Duke Belvar stepped forward and bowed his head.
"Your Majesty. I believe the regency may yet be premature for Her Highness the Imperial Princess. I hold that it would be more proper for Your Imperial Majesty to continue overseeing state affairs a while longer."
"Duke Belvar. What a cruel thing to say. You would have me, who suffers more days of clouded mind than sound ones, continue overseeing state affairs? Do you intend to work me to death?"
Duke Belvar, who had been gauging the situation, bowed his head even lower.
"I spoke out of turn. Your Imperial Majesty. Please, forgive your subject's discourtesy."
As Belvar stepped back, the others likewise kept their mouths firmly shut.
Savoring that stillness for a moment, Bertram spoke.
"It seems there are no further objections, so I shall implement the regency. Nine days hence, Selvia shall begin attending to state affairs alongside me; let all of you know this."
The people in the grand hall once more bowed their heads as one.
─ Yes! Your Imperial Majesty!
Having swiftly secured their agreement, Bertram waved his hand as if to indicate he had said all he needed to.
"Then, everyone, you may withdraw from the hall."
At Bertram's words, the bowing ministers and generals slowly exited the grand hall.
Behind them, the generals and businessmen filed out in rows, and Daniel, being the lowest in rank of those present, simply stood still, waiting for his turn to leave.
Watching the scene from the imperial throne, Bertram's eyes grew pensive.
'Most of the people gathered here today likely have no idea.'
Those lacking political astuteness believed Daniel Steiner was merely the imperial princess's closest aide.
A high-performing horse that moved according to the imperial princess's orders, so to speak.
But Bertram, having contemplated the incidents and events that had transpired so far, knew the truth.
Daniel Steiner did not move according to the imperial princess's will—he moved according to a will he himself had decided upon.
'Therefore...'
The one who had made the imperial princess the emperor's successor here today was not Selvia herself.
Nor was it the emperor, Bertram.
From beginning to end, only the man named Daniel Steiner had orchestrated everything.
'A man who claimed he had no interest in politics, no less...'
>Finding it absurd, Bertram let out a hollow laugh, then raised his hand and waggled a finger.
Immediately, the Chief of the Inner Court Office, who had been waiting nearby, approached.
"Your Majesty. You called."
"Yes. Do you see that man over there? The one wearing the major's rank insignia."
"Yes. I see him clearly."
"How does he appear to you, outwardly?"
The Chief of the Inner Court Office blinked silently, then tilted his head.
"If you are speaking of his outer appearance, his build is somewhat slight, but he looks to be a handsome man. Also, the dark circles under his eyes suggest he ordinarily has a great deal of work. He seems like a young man who worries about the future of this nation."
Daniel Steiner, worrying about the future of this nation? At the absurd remark, Bertram burst into hearty laughter.
As the Chief of the Inner Court Office broke into a cold sweat, unable to fathom the cause of the sudden laughter, Bertram suppressed his mirth and opened his mouth.
"Chief of the Inner Court Office, you never fail to make me laugh. In any case, go to that man and tell him. Tell him I'd like to have a chat at the shooting range."
Still unable to grasp the meaning of the laughter, the Chief of the Inner Court Office quietly nodded.
*
A little later.
Daniel, who had been trying to leave the hall, was detained by the Chief of the Inner Court Office and escorted to a shooting range located in one corner of the imperial palace.
At the shooting stand, Emperor Bertram was holding a double-barreled shotgun.
'...Why on earth did he call me to a place like this?'
Tension bloomed within his bewilderment.
Approaching Bertram warily, Daniel offered a salute.
"Your Imperial Majesty. I was told you summoned me."
"Hm? Ah."
Having spotted Daniel, Bertram casually acknowledged the salute and placed his hand on the shotgun's trigger.
His gaze was fixed on the azure sky above the lawn before him.
"My apologies for summoning you so suddenly. Have you ever done trap shooting?"
"I only heard of it during my cadet days, as I had a friend who enjoyed it."
"Then you can learn from me on this occasion. Watch carefully."
No sooner had Bertram finished speaking than a whistle sounded and two clay targets soared high into the sky.
The moment he spotted the targets, Bertram raised the shotgun and pulled the trigger in quick succession.
Tang! Ta-ang!
The flying pellets lightly smashed both targets to pieces.
Satisfied to have struck the targets, Bertram lowered the shotgun.
"It's this sort of sport. Your shooting skills are likely superior to mine, so it shouldn't prove difficult."
"...Your Majesty? Am I to understand that you summoned me here to enjoy some shooting?"
"Of course not. This is merely a bit of recreation to foster friendly relations with you."
As Bertram grasped the shotgun barrel and lowered it, two spent shells popped up and fell to the ground.
Seeing this, an attendant approached Bertram and handed him fresh shells.
"The primary reason I called you here is to bestow a commendation."
"...A commendation, you say?"
"Yes. Did you not work hard for my daughter this time around? I am someone who privately wished for Selvia to become emperor, so I am deeply grateful for your efforts."
Having received the shells from the attendant, Bertram loaded them with slow, deliberate movements.
"So I intend to bestow commendations this time not only upon you, naturally, but also upon those who assisted you. Provided you are agreeable, of course. So, could you tell me who they are?"
Wearing a genial smile, Bertram finished loading by raising the barrel and locking it shut.
Then, as Bertram raised his hand and signaled, the attendant stepped back.
As if it were now time for the targets, Bertram's gaze once more fixed on the empty space above the lawn.
Watching this from the side, Daniel spoke as if troubled.
"Your Majesty? What do you mean, those who assisted me? If you are referring to the arrest of His Highness the Crown Prince's private organization, I can only say that it was purely luck."
The clay targets flew into the air.
Instinctively raising the shotgun, Bertram pulled the trigger in quick succession.
Simultaneous with the muzzle flash, the two targets were shattered into smithereens once more.
After confirming he had hit them, Bertram retrieved the shotgun and lowered the barrel.
Two spent shells popped out.
"Major Daniel."
Just as the shells struck the ground, Bertram shrugged his shoulders once and turned to look at Daniel.
"I am not asking you a question right now. This is closer to an order, so to speak. So I shall ask once more."
A cool breeze blew in from afar.
After a brief silence, Bertram continued.
"Tell me who the faction that aided you is, and precisely what it is they are doing."
Bertram's mouth still wore a smile, but his eyes had grown cold and still.
At that subtle shift in expression, Daniel could be certain.
'This is...'
This was absolutely not a question asked for the purpose of a commendation.