The Price of a Sacrifice
Hartmann regarded her for a moment, then brought out a name as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Rinne."
Celine's eyes wavered, wide.
"At present she lives in the orphanage attached to St. Clarissa Convent. She has lost her sight."
The instant Celine's face hardened, Hartmann raised a hand.
"There is no need to be afraid. This is not a matter of using your sister to do you harm. Quite the opposite."
He shifted, settling himself more comfortably.
"If you accept my proposal, I will take charge of your sister's living expenses, her education, and her future lodging. I can arrange it so that even after she comes of age she need never worry about how she will eat, and if you wish, I can place her under the protection of my house."
Celine only listened, dazed.
"And I will look into a way to treat her eyes."
At that single sentence, Celine's expression changed at once.
"You mean her eyes can be cured?"
"I have promised no such thing."
Hartmann drew the line with exactness.
"I am no physician. But making inquiries is possible. If nothing can be found within the Empire, I can look into the Sacred Medicine Faction of the Kingdom of Ardel, or commission the researchers of Beloa. What I mean is that I will use money and connections to search out every method that can be found."
Celine's lips parted a little. It was a possibility she had never once, in all her life, been able to hold properly. That Rinne might be able to see.
"And if need be, I will secure that child's future as well. On the condition that both you and Rinne wish it, I would even consider arranging a marriage with one of my own children."
"M-marriage? With Your Excellency's child?"
When Celine asked again in shock, Hartmann shrugged as though it were nothing of consequence.
"Marriage has always been an institution for binding a house, and a person's future, by contract, has it not? Of course, if Rinne dislikes the idea there is no reason to proceed, and if my child objects I have no intention of forcing it. It was an example. I mean that I can guarantee her future even to that extent."
Celine could not answer easily. The offer was too large. It was nothing but things she would find difficult to give Rinne even if she worked her whole life. To say her heart did not sway would have been a lie.
And yet that was precisely why it felt strange. Why this far, for her?
She spent a long while choosing her words before she carefully opened her mouth.
"I am truly grateful for the proposal. That you would think of Rinne even to that extent — I really am grateful."
Celine hesitated, picking over her words, and then spoke.
"Even so, I still don't know."
Hartmann's brow lifted, only a fraction. Surprise crossed his face for a moment; then he smiled faintly.
"Ordinarily, once a person has been told this much, they try to seize the terms however they can before they ever ask the reason. Why hesitate?"
Celine worried she might sour his mood for nothing. But having come this far, it was difficult to fumble together some convenient evasion.
"I don't know whether I am really a person worth that much."
"Your worth?"
"Yes."
Celine's gaze dropped to her knees. The treatment she had received from the Emperor flickered through her mind. Those experiences had driven her self-respect all the way to the bottom.
"Honestly, I can't understand you doing all of those things because of me."
Hartmann said nothing for a moment. He tapped the edge of the desk twice with a finger, thinking, and then nodded.
"First, one correction. Of all the compensation I have just described, you yourself — the party concerned — are the exception."
At those words Celine's head jerked up.
"The exception?"
"Yes. I cannot guarantee your life. I will make no promise to raise your wages sharply, nor to give you a high post. A title, or a promise to send you elsewhere and keep you safe, is the same."
The color drained slowly from Celine's face. Hartmann did not stop.
"Doing anything for you directly is, all of it, a variable. There is no knowing how Her Majesty will react."
He shook his head slightly.
"I have no intention of promising what my authority cannot answer for."
Celine could say nothing. Hartmann waited a moment, then went on in a slightly lower voice.
"The people around you, however, are different."
"......"
"I will set it down in writing."
"......"
"I will have it bear the seal of the Minister of the Interior and the confirmation of the Imperial Treasury. So that even if you vanish from the Imperial Palace tomorrow, or something ill befalls you, the contract can be made to hold."
Hartmann spoke as calmly as if he were delivering a routine report. But the latter half never properly reached Celine's ears.
That sentence alone kept circling through her mind. Pale-faced, Celine barely managed to open her mouth.
"I..."
"What is it?"
"Am I going to die?"
Celine's voice rose a little. The anxiety she had been forcing down until a moment ago began to burst out all at once.
"Minister, you know something, don't you? You know what I've done wrong. If that weren't true, why would you say things like this?"
"Calm yourself."
"Then tell me!"
A voice sharp enough to startle even Celine herself tore free. Her hands shook madly.
"I really don't know. I don't know why Her Majesty is doing this to me, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
Hartmann did not cut in. That silence only made Celine's words come faster.
"That day I was just cleaning. Then I spilled a water basin by accident, there was a noise, Her Majesty opened her eyes, and our eyes met."
Her breathing quickened.
"That really is all of it. No matter how much I think about it, I didn't do anything wrong besides that. So at first I thought I was being punished for spoiling Her Majesty's mood."
The corners of Celine's eyes reddened.
"I reflected. I reflected so much. I won't ever do it again. So couldn't you speak to her for me, Minister? Tell her I've reflected enough, that I was wrong, that I'm begging her now, please, to forgive me."
Celine looked at Hartmann almost as if she were clinging to him.
"Please."
Hartmann said nothing for a long while. At last he let out a long sigh and pressed once at the bridge of his nose. When he looked at Celine again, a faint pity had entered his gaze.
"Regrettably, that is something I cannot do."
Celine's eyes wavered.
"Why?"
"What would I be asking Her Majesty to forgive? You seem to believe the spilled basin was the cause, but who has confirmed that it truly was?"
Celine's mouth closed. Hartmann slowly shook his head.
"I do not know why Her Majesty summoned you the first time. I do not know why she summoned you again, and I do not know what she wants of you now. To speak frankly, I have no idea at all what Her Majesty is thinking."
Celine stared at him with a blank face.
"You don't know what Her Majesty is thinking either, Minister?"
"That is correct."
It was an admission of perfect calm. Because of that, Celine was all the more dumbfounded.
"Then why are you making me an offer like this?"
To that question Hartmann answered without hesitation.
"Because it will benefit the Empire."
"What?"
"I have judged that your remaining at Her Majesty's side is likely to be of profit to the Empire. More precisely, I consider the value you produce to be far greater than the compensation I can provide to the people around you. That is why I am proposing a transaction."
"If I'm that important, then please help me. So Her Majesty can't keep doing this to me—"
"That will not do."
Hartmann's words cut off, firm. Celine went rigid.
"Why..."
"I told you. Her Majesty is the greatest variable, and so I cannot help you in the way you are hoping."
Hartmann went on calmly, leaving her no gap in which to force a word. At that, Celine's face slowly twisted.
"So you're telling me to just keep taking it?"
Hartmann looked at her for a time. Then, very slowly, he opened his mouth.
"I will say something you may find unpleasant to hear."
"......"
"Think of yourself as a kind of sacrificial offering."
At the word, Celine's expression went blank.
"......"
"I know it is a cruel way to put it. I am not demanding that you love the Emperor, nor do I mean to force a sacrifice out of you in the name of loyalty or patriotism. I am simply proposing that we set a price on the danger you will have to bear."
His gaze went to the letter of resignation on the desk.
"I cannot pay that price to you directly. But I can return it to the person you hold most dear."
Rinne's face rose in Celine's mind. She said nothing, only looking down at the hands in her lap. Hartmann gave her a moment, then continued.
"Of course, the choice is yours. If you say you will resign as things stand, I will not stop you. I have no thought of tearing up this paper, nor of invoking the Emperor's name to bind you by force to a maid's post."
Celine's expression eased, only a very little. But Hartmann at once added a practical condition.
"If you leave in that fashion, however, what I have just proposed will not exist either. All of it is conditional upon the transaction."
Strength gathered in Celine's hands. Watching her expression, Hartmann spoke.
"I will also tell you why I am going this far. The greatest reason is that I wish to reduce the variables. If you were suddenly to leave the Imperial Palace, I do not know how Her Majesty would react to that fact. I thoroughly dislike a situation I must clean up after the matter has already erupted."
The stifling talk made Celine's head ache. She wanted to leave the Imperial Palace. She never wanted to see the Emperor again. But he was saying that would not resolve the situation.
She agonized for a long while, and in the end shook her head weakly.
"I... I... I don't know."
Hartmann was not particularly surprised. He nodded at her answer, and the sight of it gave Celine courage enough to go on.
"I'm sorry. It's too sudden. Until this morning I thought that if I just submitted my resignation and left, it would be over, and then suddenly all of this came out..."
Celine dragged both hands once down her face. Hartmann still opened his mouth with an unruffled expression.
"Then postpone it."
"...What?"
"You need only not choose today."
Hartmann spoke as if it were nothing extraordinary.
"Deferring a decision is a method in itself. Force a conclusion while your thoughts are tangled as they are now, and you may regret it later."
He drew over the schedule lying at one side of the desk and checked several lines in quick succession.
"From tomorrow, I will give you two days' leave."
"Leave?"
"Yes. Go to St. Clarissa Convent. See your sister, put the Imperial Palace well behind you, and think for a few days. I will not have you submit the resignation now."
Celine hesitated a moment.
"And if, after I come back, I still say I want to quit?"
Hartmann tapped the resignation on the desk lightly with a fingertip.
"Then we will speak again. At least you will be able to decide with a clearer head than today."
Celine looked at the letter of resignation. Only this morning it had been a paper she wanted dealt with no matter what happened. Now she could not even be sure what she herself wanted.
Above all, she wanted to see Rinne.
"...I understand."
In the end Celine nodded slowly.
"Good."
Hartmann pressed her no further, as if he had known from the beginning that she would retreat this far. He took out a sheet of paper, wrote several lines quickly, and stamped his seal.
Thock.
"I will deliver the leave authorization to the Chief Maid myself. Tomorrow you need only go out as you are."
"Thank you."
Celine rose. Her mind was still a tangle. What was she supposed to say when she met Rinne? Should she say she might quit? And the Emperor — could she even speak of that?
She was walking toward the door with those tangled thoughts when a voice called after her.
"Ah. One more thing."
"Yes?"
"When you go out tomorrow, buy a newspaper."
At the abrupt words, Celine blinked.
"A newspaper?"
"Yes. Any paper will do. Tomorrow morning most of them will carry much the same thing."
"Why a newspaper..."
Hartmann's pen paused. He looked at Celine once, then spoke evenly.
"It may be of some small help in the choice you make."
Celine wanted to ask more, but Hartmann did not look inclined to explain any further.
"...I understand."
"And while you are with your sister, do not dwell on worries about matters here. Think of such things, and it shows all over your face."
It was unexpected. Celine stared at him blankly for a moment. But Hartmann had already turned his eyes back to the documents.
"Go on."
"Yes. Thank you, Minister."
Click.
The door closed. Stillness settled over the office.
Hartmann did not move for a time. He gazed in silence at the door through which Celine had vanished, then shifted his eyes to the resignation on the desk. Beside it, several reports were stacked.
Report on mana fluctuations within the Imperial Palace.
Record of variation in northeastern spirit-stone output.
Revised forecast of agricultural production.
And one document laid on top of the rest.
Hartmann picked it up.
Estimated dead: more than five thousand.
Survivors: unconfirmed.
His finger stopped on the line where the hour of the incident was written. It was the very next day after Celine had first been summoned to the Emperor's Bedchamber.
"......"
Hartmann stared at that line for a long while.
The Emperor's condition has changed.
The presumed cause is the maid called Celine.
Hartmann sank deep into his chair.
"Haa..."
A long, heavy sigh slipped out of him. He knew better than anyone what he had just proposed. He set the report down and pressed hard at his temple.
"Truly..."
After a short silence, a low voice followed.
"A hard lot, this."
Whether those words were meant for Celine, who had just gone out. Whether they were meant for himself, who had to go so far as a proposal like this in order to keep hold of her. Or whether they were meant for an empire that had mortgaged the whole of the nation to a single being.
Hartmann himself did not bother to distinguish.