Toward the Imperial Capital (2)
Irelphi stood with a hand pressed to her forehead, as if the thing she'd been dreading had finally arrived.
"Let's sort out what to call you."
It was the first thing she said with the Eld Empire's capital checkpoint dead ahead, and she added in a weary voice, "The inspection only needs to see my face. But I can't keep calling you 'you' at the palace either — and calling you Netionpis would only make things difficult."
"Understood. It's a name no one's glad to hear, anyway."
It was a genuinely infuriating, maddening kind of name value — a name worth less than a scrap of waste paper, one in which I owned not a single share.
"It's a little different from that. Your very existence is top secret to begin with, so among the public you're treated as something out of myth or legend."
According to Irelphi, the common folk regarded me as roughly [some ancient, corpulent noble — a wicked spirit or demon, though no one knew what he'd actually done to earn it].
It had been the First Emperor, after all, who appointed the Founding Noble. To keep the imperial family's authority from eroding, most of my misdeeds had been buried — so her story went.
"That's genuinely dirty."
"Yes. You, specifically."
It would have surprised no one if Irelphi had drawn her sword without hesitation at an insult to the crown. I gauged her state of mind from the blade resting snug in its sheath. The way she scolded me while her gaze drifted off toward distant mountains turned my guess into certainty.
"So, here's the thing. From now on, I'm thinking of calling you Neti."
"Sorry, but that's dangerous in more ways than one."
It brought to mind some righteous phantom-thief girl from somewhere. Irelphi tilted her head and corrected herself.
"I don't follow. Then Nepi it is."
"That sounds like a girl's name."
"Quiet, Nepi."
Apparently I no longer possessed veto rights. Irelphi beamed, looking thoroughly refreshed — no doubt cherishing the adorable notion that she'd scored one over on me.
We set off toward the checkpoint. A queue of people waiting their turn was already in view, but Irelphi ignored every last one of them and walked straight up to the front.
The one to receive her was a soldier with a rough, brutish face, scowling and radiating menace. "Anyone who dares cut the line will be— wha— Margrave Justiha!?"
The man's eyes went round, his spine snapped straight, and a salute shot up of its own accord. The guard who had set out to restore order had surrendered before power.
"Much obliged for the recognition. Hard work, this, isn't it?"
What is this speech — unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar?
Irelphi gave the guard's shoulder a light pat. The height gap between them was so great it was closer to reaching than patting. But far from cute, to me it looked like one of the Four Heavenly Generals thumping a platoon leader's shoulder, and it was painful to watch.
"N-no, ma'am! Not at all!"
"Good. No trouble to speak of?"
"All quiet on duty! I shall conduct inspections with the utmost devotion!"
"Hoh-ho, I see. Tell me — do I perhaps make you uncomfortable?"
"No, ma'am!!!"
Please stop, Irelphi! Read the room, I say... you cursed high-and-mighty creature! This is exactly why no one should be raised pampered from birth and handed power. Right before my eyes stood a young, beautiful, and thoroughly pitiable old fogey.
"Margrave Justiha, did your dessert expedition go well?"
"Hm?"
At the non sequitur, I pricked up my ears. My guess was that her journey to subdue me had, in the public telling, been garbled into a dessert-tasting tour. Irelphi swiftly clapped a hand over the man's mouth and whispered.
"It's a secret, so hush now."
She had probably whispered to keep it quiet, but unlike her, my hearing was already beyond the human realm. Even if I hadn't caught a word, the man's ashen face would have told me everything. She's a walking trauma factory, honestly.
The two of them exchanged a few more words, and then Irelphi came back to me and led me through the checkpoint.
"All done. Let's head in."
I had been spacing out, lost in old memories, and very nearly let something slip.
"Yes, I under—! No. Uh, yeah."
Fortunately, Irelphi paid it no mind and kept walking, and before long we arrived at the imperial capital, Eldrion.
I couldn't count how many times I'd seen this place across the series. In the game it was compact enough to tour in half an hour, but this was reality. Watching the crowds and the unfamiliar architecture of the streets, I found myself steeped in pure, undiluted wonder.
"I suppose it's very different from your era, Nepi?"
A so-called noble gawking like some country bumpkin — of course she'd think that.
"Nothing much has changed, but it all stirs the heart anew."
In truth, what had changed across the series' updates was mostly the advancement of magical tools like the communication stones. From the game's perspective, a quality-of-life patch, I suppose.
"Come to think of it, there's something I should tell you."
"Hm?"
"At the palace, speak to no one but me or His Majesty. If someone greets you, a silent bow will do. Whatever comes up, I'll handle all of it."
"Fine by me. It's not exactly difficult."
"Thank you."
Irelphi thanked me — a rare occurrence. But she didn't know it then: how soon both promise and gratitude would come to nothing...
"Now then, to the palace."
The expression on Irelphi's face as she said it and strode ahead struck me as somehow dark.
The imperial palace we arrived at together held precisely the scenery I had imagined. First to catch the eye was a red spire hung with a colossal golden bell — and just then, three people together were swinging it with a mighty toll.
We passed a garden that held all the radiance of the four seasons and made for the main palace, where the golden chains, symbol of the Eld Empire, bound the gates shut in seal. When Irelphi laid a hand on them, the chains uncoiled like living serpents and opened the way.
These were certainly all manner of fine details the game had never shown. Turning my head to drink in my surroundings, I felt as though I were being repaid for my time sealed in the Great Cavern.
"Don't stand there gaping — keep up. The main palace is vast and maze-like; you could easily lose your way."
"Ooh. Right."
By the time I'd walked with Irelphi long enough for the palace interior to grow somewhat familiar, I brought up the private question that had been nagging at me.
"Irelphi."
"Yes?"
"Back at the checkpoint — you were talking down to that guard. Where did your noble dignity go?"
Irelphi answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Because I'm his superior by a mile."
"Then what am I?"
"So that's what this is about — you thought I was some scoundrel whose dignity is selective?"
"Huh? No, I wouldn't go that far..."
I had thought her dignity selective, and it was neither more nor less than that. Without pressing the point, Irelphi continued calmly.
"The Founding Noble is the most exalted rank in the empire after His Majesty the Emperor himself. Even the Empress could not claim to stand above you. You would know that better than I, wouldn't you?"
"W-well, naturally."
Simply put, I had originally been the empire's number two. I was genuinely stunned — but I didn't make the blunder of letting it show on my face.
"Among the privileges the First Emperor granted you was a one-time immunity, remember? Even outright treason could be pardoned once — a right that was, in a sense, invincible."
"There was... something like that...?"
The existence of a privilege never so much as written in the diary left me flustered. According to Irelphi, the Third Emperor had dispatched the first protagonist to subdue the Founding Noble, but my resistance had been so fierce that he'd had no choice but to seal me away instead. The immunity privilege had gone unused to the very end.
Which meant that if the current Emperor recognized the immunity privilege, I could go on living as a Founding Noble... was the hopeful version of the story.
"Though given the imperial family's circumstances, even if it were recognized, it would take a different form."
"Right. I have no intention of living as a Founding Noble anyway."
Who would shoulder a notorious reputation, and for whose sake? I'd count myself lucky just to make it down the street without catching an egg to the face. I wanted to live in this world plainly, enjoying it.
"If we settle on a suitable noble rank and launder your identity, His Majesty will gladly hear you out."
"A splendid proposal, that."
"In any case, your current status is far too ambiguous, Nepi. A Founding Noble, but also a criminal — it's no simple matter to weigh where your rank stands. That's why I've been using honorifics for the time being. Do you have some objection?"
The moment Irelphi's brow narrowed, every hair on my body stood on end. The fear I'd briefly forgotten came creeping back.
"...What objection could I possibly have."
As Irelphi and I traded talk of this and that, I focused on gathering information. Whatever the state of my soul, my current shell was a Founding Noble. If I showed a bumbling side in that role, the claim itself would lose credibility — and my value risked being marked down.
Between absorbing background knowledge and points of caution, we found ourselves, before I knew it, standing before the great doors of the audience chamber. The guards there checked Irelphi's face and crest, then roared until their voices nearly tore.
"Irelphi Justiha, Margrave, requests an audience with the master of the golden chains, His Majesty the Emperor of the Eld Empire!"
The doors of the audience chamber slid open, and presently a resplendent interior greeted us. The chandeliers, so colossal it was a wonder they didn't come crashing down, were adorned with jewels of five colors and possessed a bewitching allure. The walls were lined throughout with artworks modeled on golden chains, deep and solemn, and the red carpet sank soft beneath our feet, as if drinking in our very soles.
Irelphi, as if all of it were old hat, spared not a single glance and strode straight ahead, bold and upright. It was intimidating enough that I wondered whether I was even permitted to enter alongside her. But no one stopped me as I shuffled along in her wake.
While I hung back, cowed and watching for cues, Irelphi reported with commanding presence.
"I announce the return of Irelphi Justiha, bearing the imperial command."
With a resounding thud, she dropped to one knee, her gaze fixed on the throne dead ahead. My own eyes followed her line of sight.
And at that very moment, I felt my consciousness fade into a distant haze. I was certain of the cause: my eyes had met the Emperor's.
I don't know why, but the instant our gazes locked, my heart pounded in convulsive spasms and cold sweat broke over me. My awareness kept drifting further away, until it seemed my mind itself would come apart entirely. Had Irelphi's call not reached me, that is surely what would have happened.
"You stand before His Majesty the Emperor. Mind your courtesies."
"Ah..."
I was still dazed, half an idiot. But looking into Irelphi's eyes — blue as a mountain lake — the strange affliction that had just seized me seemed to wash away.
The one who stopped me as I gathered my wits and made to kneel was the Emperor himself.
"Haha, that's quite enough. You are the Founding Noble — one below the sovereign, above ten thousand subjects. Standing as you are is no trouble at all."
To the Emperor's magnanimous favor, I answered with all the courtesy I could muster.
"Am I not, in the end, one below the One? And since that One stands before me, I shall gladly kneel."
It was my own gesture of bowing my way in. The Emperor seemed greatly pleased, welcoming me with a hearty laugh.
"To see the Founding Noble in the flesh, who until now lived only in records — truly a marvel. But why do you look so very different from what I imagined?"
The Emperor looked me over with genuine fascination. While I was still choosing my words, Irelphi spoke in my place.
"Because he has gathered in his energy. Still, Your Majesty, I ask that you not forget this man is a dangerous element."
"Dangerous? He hardly looks it. It isn't that he lacks strength — he lacks killing intent, so I doubt he'd do any harm..."
What is this feeling?
The Emperor's precise insight was startling enough, but what bothered me more was the sense of wrongness. Meeting his gaze, it felt as though I were laying my inner self bare of my own accord.
"Margrave Justiha. I do not consider the Founding Noble a threat. And so — I intend to recognize the immunity privilege and grant him a new name and standing."
"Your Majesty! Isn't this far too hasty?"
Irelphi remonstrated as though scolding him. But the Emperor was willful and radical. For me, the situation was convenient to the point of absurdity.
"Let's see... a title, about margrave. A fief is difficult to grant at present, but a mansion I can spare. Did you know? The Noble's mansion is of great historical value — it has been preserved beautifully."
"Your Majesty — surely you don't mean that mansion...!"
"What could possibly be wrong with it? The owner has returned; the owner should use it."
"Are you not considering the outcry this will raise?"
"With the Margrave Justiha at my side, what should I be watching my step for, or fearing?"
That much, I concede...
Forgetting all dignity, I nodded along fervently. The Emperor found my reaction delightful. Irelphi, forgetting she stood before the throne, trembled with clenched fists.
The sight was so thoroughly satisfying that I was already taking a liking to the Emperor.
The Emperor, watching Irelphi continue to sulk, asked:
"Your objection, Margrave, comes down to the claim that the Founding Noble is a dangerous element — is that correct?"
"I have much to say, but pressed to a single point — yes."
"Then I have a perfectly clear answer."
The Emperor straightened in his seat and pronounced, full of majesty. His shamelessly grinning face was suddenly brimming with the bearing of a ruler. A bonus: Irelphi's expression twisted worse than at any moment I had yet witnessed.
"I hereby issue an imperial command to Margrave Justiha. From this moment, the Margrave is appointed overseer of the Founding Noble. The duty of surveillance knows neither night nor day — guard the security of the empire with utmost devotion."
Having spent more than a fortnight in her company, I had seen plenty of her daily life. But I swear on my life, I had never once imagined a reaction like the one before me now. Irelphi, her selective dignity apparently forgotten entirely, ground her teeth openly before the Emperor as she wrenched out her reply.
"The imperial command... I... ac-cept... it...!"
Witnessing her exert the very last of her endurance, I swayed with dizziness, certain I was about to collapse. As much as I'd wanted to see Irelphi get her comeuppance... this might be a bit much...?
And so began my absurd cohabitation with the trauma factory.