Please Don't Raise Your Voice - 3
There's no phrase that captures the current situation better than the calm before the storm. A massive bomb about to drop on the imperial palace. Three losers on the verge of emerging from the six young scholars set to debate before the throne. The silence and stillness right before that moment are truly insufficiently described as the calm before the storm.
But put another way, it means peace is guaranteed at this very instant. At least before the storm hits, no other ominous signs appear.
"The storm isn't hitting me anyway, so who cares."
- Shiiik!
- Sieeek!
- Shiuuuk!
Samshik, who had been stuffing his mouths full of food at my mutterings, let out hissing cries. It felt like agreement with my words, making me chuckle involuntarily.
Yeah, anyone can enjoy the calm and peace before the storm. When it finally comes, only those in its path need to worry. I don't have to fear it particularly.
I'm neither one of the young scholars wielding their tongues in the court debate, nor the pitiful mediator caught in between, nor even an audience member just watching the spectacle. This court debate is for the Emperor, the founding merits, and the ministers to observe...
"Ah."
- Shiiik?
"Ah, nothing. Keep eating."
- Shiiik!
Samshik, tilting his three heads, plunged them back into the plate. Seeing him eat so contentedly was heartwarming as his owner, but this time I couldn't laugh.
'As a third-rank vice minister, am I considered a minister too?'
Unfortunately, it seems I'm also in the storm's path.
Before returning to Kaepyeong, my position was Left Vice Inspector General of the Dochalwon—a secretarial rank, neither minister nor vice minister. Not low by any means, but ambiguous compared to the brilliant high officials of the capital. After all, Vice Inspector General is a fourth-rank post.
But now, I'm Vice Censor-in-chief. A third-rank position equivalent to a regional judicial overseer. Not a full minister, but undeniably vice-ministerial.
'Though "minister" usually refers only to full ministers.'
The silver lining is that "minister" typically denotes full ministers. You need to be Censor-in-chief to qualify. But the variables are that I discovered those mad young scholars, I brought them to Kaepyeong, and I am ensuring their convenience and safety.
If the Emperor tells me, the responsible party, "It's just one rank below minister or vice minister—come watch," I'd have to go to court. I can't escape the responsibilities of discoverer, escort, or caretaker.
Talk about a grand slam.
'What do I do?'
Imagining the worst future, cold sweat began to trickle down.
Participating in the court debate versus not is a world of difference. The latter? Wait till it's over, then soothe the merits with an appropriate smile and apologetic face. Even if they feel offended by the debate, I didn't raise my voice against them in person.
But the former? Every time those participating scholars say something radical or provoke the merits, I'd become a superstar right there.
"What do you think, since these are the guys you brought?" The real-time glares would be terrifying just to imagine.
Newly promoted ministers since founding might shrug off debating old murim treatment as tedious, but the war-hardened merits' gazes are lethal.
'...Should I get drunk before going in?'
I seriously contemplated it. If I'm in a weakened state from drinking, maybe even the merits would hold back from scolding me? "No point mixing words with that lunatic kid."
They might even pity me. "How frustrated and anxious must he have been for a trained martial artist to get drunk?"
'From today, five drinks a day.'
One upon waking, one with breakfast, one with lunch, one with dinner, one before bed. Ppiae's already happily boozing on grandfather-in-law's liquors, so I could join—
"Gaga."
"Huh? Yeah?"
I whipped my head around at Ak I-yeon's voice from behind. My heart sank, as if she'd overheard my foolish thoughts. I couldn't become a madman plotting deliberate impairment in front of my fiancée.
"Here you are. I thought you were in your room, but you weren't, so I searched for a while."
"Sorry. Samshik likes the garden."
- Shiiiiiik!
In response, Samshik shook his heads every which way in a dance. Still tiny, he could perfectly camouflage by flattening into the grass. Even white, he was fully hidden. Plus, the grass served as a soft blanket, so he preferred it second only to my lap.
That's why I was feeding him in the rear garden instead of the perfectly fine room.
"Times like this, he really does seem like a snake."
Ak I-yeon chuckled softly, gently stroking Samshik's three heads.
More like a snake? What had she thought he was before?
"Oh, Gaga. I have something to tell you."
"Yeah? What?"
Ak I-yeon, who had been petting the adorable Samshik—still munching away—finally turned her gaze back to me.
"Grandfather and your grandfather said... how about marrying after the court debate?"
Her face redder than before, brimming with a shy smile. Mine heated up inexplicably too. Probably as flushed as hers, if I checked a mirror.
"After the court debate?"
"Yes. With all the merits gathered in Kaepyeong from across the nation, they said it's perfect timing for a celebration."
It made sense, so I nodded. Daesong isn't some tiny palm-sized country; traveling from provinces to Kaepyeong is a hassle. Better handle all business in one trip than ascend twice in short order.
Plus, awkward as it is to say, some merits are elderly and day-to-day. If you're celebrating, do it quick before you miss someone.
"Wish the court debate would hurry up."
Half-joking, half-serious. I'd been seriously considering five drinks a day and deliberate impairment moments ago, but thinking of marriage right after made the debate seem a tad better. Just a tad.
Best case: debate canceled last minute, invite the displaced merits straight to the wedding. No uproar, and they get a happy ending without wasted travel. Full happy-circuit operation, but no viability.
"Hehe, I feel the same."
As long as Ak I-yeon was happy, it was fine. Whether the debate happens or not, it's human doings. Unless it's heaven-sent calamity, it'll work out.
"...Hmm."
"What's wrong?"
"Just thinking how Grandfather will carry our great-grandchild around once born."
Ak I-yeon's already flushed face turned even redder at my words. Obvious whose child it would be.
The young scholars from Akrok Academy debating old murim treatment before the throne. Not the current merits and ministers, but a chance to hear the future generation's thoughts.
Thus, merits scattered across Daesong began gathering in Kaepyeong one by one.
"Dong-gu Wang Jang Sa-seong-i, Gu Gangwang Jin U-ryang-i, and Yangyang Wang Maeng An have entered the palace. Nang-jung Wang Okjin and Jung San Wang Seo Dal-i have sent their crown princes as proxies."
As expected among the Iseongwangs: the predicted ones came, the anticipated sent deputies.
Nang-jung Wang and Jung San Wang hold critical border defenses against foreign threats. Leaving posts amid an unpredictable court debate would be unwise.
"The crown princes come in the kings' stead, so treat them accordingly."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Accordingly. Not actual kings, so not king-level treatment, but proxies bearing kings' names. Better than dukes fits propriety.
"How's the National Academy?"
Quickly wrapping crown princes, he asked the Geum-ui-wi Commandant about the academy's status.
The debate's stars and core are the National Academy. They refine the rough debaters from Akrok Academy, gauge their thoughts and caliber. The debate hinges on the academy and Jeju practically.
"Rough and wild, but debate-seasoned, so they won't dare rudeness before the throne."
"I see."
Positive news drew a nod. If the academy judged so, it was so. None scrutinize scholars' character and ability more thoroughly.
"Geum-ui-wi Commandant."
"Your command."
"The Geum-ui-wi will play a major role soon. With the pillars who aided the late Emperor in founding Daesong gathering, prioritize palace security."
"Yes, Your Majesty. We stake our lives to uphold your will."
The Commandant's vow lifted the Emperor's lips slightly. Already diligent, this nudge would make him even more meticulous. No ant would stir in the palace without Geum-ui-wi say-so during the debate.
"However, Your Majesty."
"What is it?"
Mild surprise at the prostrate Commandant speaking up instead of rising to act. He moves swiftly and perfectly post-command. Rare for him to speak first.
"Rumors say Giwangga and Akwangga will soon celebrate a joyous event."
"Oh?"
And what he said was most welcome.
"You've considered your comrades' plights."
Understanding Giwang and Akwang elders' hearts brought a smile. Their houses' weddings would draw merits nationwide for congratulations. Aligning with the inevitable ascent minimizes burden.
'Debate fallout minimized.'
Young scholars debating old murim? Ripples won't be small. Any outcome ignites merits' hearts. But it's the top merits—Giwang and Akwang elders' joyous event.
Right after debate ends, their celebration quenches any flames. The two showed great consideration for this immature Emperor.