Chapter 60
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Alteria (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘Blake. Blake...’
Darlington carefully observed Prince Tobias's face, which had been heavy with a grave expression ever since he heard that name.
Judging from the sudden change in his demeanor, this was no ordinary figure.
Moreover, the request to lift the Blue Falcon Knights' troop limit had been resolved the moment that name came up.
What was the imperial decree on troop limits?
—No organization except the Imperial Army may assemble under one banner more than 99 mounted knights or more than 999 soldiers armed with spears, swords, and bows. Violators, regardless of status, shall be deemed rebels.
Such a grave matter had been settled with the mention of a single name.
Now, the Blue Falcon Knights would not only be freed from the decree but also become Prince Tobias's personal guard.
And the prince himself had declared he would take full responsibility and push it through.
‘His family name is unknown, so he's likely a knight Duke Sorria recruited from the north. Yet Prince Tobias knows of him? Could there be some story between them that I don't know about...?’
Darlington's face, usually so composed and leisurely, hardened slightly.
At that moment, one side of the hall grew noisy, and a path naturally cleared.
Nobles rose here and there, offering greetings as someone approached the gathering where Prince Tobias and his entourage, along with high-ranking nobles, were seated.
A somewhat pale complexion framed by a soft smile gave the face an air of delicacy at first glance.
But the sharp glint deep in his eyes betrayed that he was no pushover.
Prince Tobias's gaze naturally turned toward him. Meeting it, the man spread his arms wide toward the prince.
“Brother.”
“Oh! If it isn't Alberk.”
The serious expression vanished from Prince Tobias's face as he stood with a beaming smile.
A handsome man in his early thirties, with a clean-shaven, white, smooth face and a subtle smile like a spring breeze.
He was Alberk Oscar Jin Villand, the third of the four direct siblings of the Villand imperial family.
Alberk bowed politely before his eldest brother, Prince Tobias, and Duchess Abelia.
“I trust you've been well? My brother, who rules Kalstad so diligently...”
“Enough of that. No need for formalities between us. Come, join us.”
Tobias cut him off with a kindly face and personally stepped down to lead his younger brother up.
This unfortunately left Darlington's seat a bit isolated.
Yet he showed no sign of offense or displeasure, instead bowing courteously to Prince Alberk.
“I greet Duke Kalstad.”
“It's been a while, Sir Darlington. You look as well as ever.”
“Then, Your Highness, I shall take my leave. Please enjoy your time together.”
“Already?”
Prince Tobias tilted his head at Darlington's words.
“Yes. I have matters to discuss with Viscount Mamon and Sir Spencer regarding the assignments of this year's imperial knight exam passers...”
“Very well, then.”
“Yes. Your Highness, Duchess, I shall see you later. And Duke Kalstad as well...”
“Farewell.”
Darlington's parting words weren't even finished before Prince Alberk cut him off coldly.
His brief greeting earlier had been curt too—behavior that could come across as rude, even for imperial blood.
Was that why?
An awkward atmosphere hung as their gazes met in midair.
Cold, utterly businesslike eyes scanned each other without a trace of emotion.
“I'll take my leave.”
Darlington gave a light nod and departed.
The nobles watching whispered among themselves.
“Is the relationship between Duke Kalstad and Earl Darlington strained?”
“Who knows. The youngest prince rarely leaves the palace, let alone visits his territory...”
Prince Tobias frowned slightly with one eye and turned to Prince Alberk.
“Still on bad terms with Sir Darlington?”
“Come now, brother. What does good or bad matter? From my position, keeping things at this distance with the Minister of the Interior is ideal. No need to worry.”
“What do you mean? What's your position got to do with it?”
“You're the one who'll soon inherit the throne—you can be close with the Minister of the Interior. But not me. You know how the palace gossips love to talk.”
“What? Who dares speak such insolence about you?”
Prince Tobias's eyebrows arched sharply, twitching in anger.
Prince Alberk quickly grabbed his brother's arm as he seemed ready to leap up.
“Whoa! Brother, that was a slip of the tongue. I'm just being cautious to prevent any rumors.”
“Still, how can they—”
“Please, Your Highness. Won't this only put Duke Kalstad in a tougher spot?”
Only when Duchess Abelia intervened did Prince Tobias's agitation subside somewhat.
But he still swept his dissatisfied gaze over the nearby attendants and nobles, clearly not fully appeased.
Under the lion's glare—who would soon rule tens of millions of imperial subjects—the old chamberlain and servants bowed low, nearly prostrating, while nearby nobles held their breath.
“Brother, enough of that. Let me pour you a drink. How about a toast with everyone here?”
“Hahaha! Yes, let's. Everyone, bottoms up!”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
Nearby nobles raised their glasses high at Prince Tobias's toast.
At the same time, the court orchestra seamlessly shifted to a new tune, matching the lion's mood.
“To His Majesty's health and the empire's glory!”
Glasses tilted back, throats bobbing vigorously.
Just then, as Prince Alberk lifted his wine glass, his lingering gaze crossed the hall to land on one person.
Minister of the Interior, Earl Darlington.
As if sensing it, Darlington turned his head.
Unlike the dry exchange moments ago, their gazes—now tinged with subtle nuance—brushed past each other amid the enchanting lights and grand music of the dance.
It was over in an instant.
The two exchanged looks and then turned back to their respective groups as if nothing had happened.
* * *
“Miss, where's Sir Varan? Whoa? Oh, miss!”
“Ah, miss, at least change your clothes first! You lot, prepare the bath water... Ah, no, miss!”
The butler and nursemaid, startled as if possessed upon seeing Annrose return alone to the mansion, followed her in a frenzy.
“I'll explain later. I have something to do first.”
But Annrose brushed off their nagging with one ear and headed not to her room, but the study.
“What are you all doing? Take the miss's clothes!”
“Yes! Right away!”
The nursemaid's fierce glare sent the maids scurrying after Annrose to attend her.
“No need. Go tend to other tasks.”
But Annrose dismissed them and entered the study alone, sitting at the desk to pick up a pen.
“Hm...”
After pondering briefly, Annrose steeled her resolve and began writing.
Her elegant handwriting, befitting a noble heir, danced gracefully across the page.
After some time, she held up the paper and scanned it slowly.
“Good.”
With a light nod, Annrose folded the paper, sealed it with her ring's signet, and handed it to the butler.
“Deliver this to Earl Alfred Illein, commander of the capital defense forces. Tell him I wish to meet within the next few days. He'll respond immediately.”
“Yes, miss. Understood.”
He had countless questions, but the butler's eyes caught the stark change in Annrose's aura since leaving the mansion. He bowed and tucked the letter carefully into his robes before stepping out.
“Wait, hold on.”
Annrose stopped the butler just as he reached the door.
“Yes?”
He turned with a puzzled look.
She hesitated, biting her lip lightly despite calling him back, her cheeks faintly flushing as she spoke.
“There's a Zaroph family. The current head, Sir Gophrin Zaroph, works at the Ministry of the Interior, so he shouldn't be hard to find. Convey that I'd like to visit them soon—very politely.”
“Zaroph family. Yes, miss. Consider it done.”
He noted the subtle difference in her tone from when mentioning Earl Illein but bowed and exited without comment.
As the butler left, Annrose rose from her chair.
“Who's Zaroph, miss?”
“I'm heading up for a bath. I'm hungry too—prepare something light.”
Annrose turned her faintly reddened face away from the nursemaid, changing the subject.
“Oh my! Yes!”
The nursemaid, who had raised her like a daughter and knew how tight-lipped she could be, promptly forgot about the Zaroph mention at her request for food.
“That said, miss, what on earth happened? How did you return alone? Where are Sir Varan and the knights?”
“Sir Varan should be back in four or five days? Anyway, that's how it is.”
Annrose gave a perfunctory reply to the nursemaid trailing behind her.
“Welcome back safely, miss.”
“Greetings, miss.”
“Yes, yes. You've all been well?”
She nodded to each maid flocking like sheep to bow upon their lady's return, ascending the stairs to the second floor without pause.
The nursemaid sensed Annrose had changed somehow from her demeanor.
But curiosity burned stronger, so she persisted, chattering as she followed.
“What do you mean ‘that's how it is’? What about the betrothal to the Graeme family...?”
“I'll explain later. My head's pounding—I have a lot to think about. Is the bath ready?”
“No, but at least explain... Egad! Ah, miss!”
The nursemaid nearly fainted at the sight of Annrose stripping off her clothes haphazardly before the bathroom door.
“What's the big deal?”
Under the dim bathroom light, the vibrant, snow-white body of an eighteen-year-old maiden shyly vanished into the steamy mist.
“Ahh! Lady Lumina...”
Annrose always favored formality and impeccable conduct.
Yet here she was, stripping like a man before the maids without covering herself, splashing into the tub.
“Ahh! Goddess, look upon us mercifully. Haaah!”
The nursemaid sighed deeply in resignation and left the bathroom.
Maids soon approached to assist with her bath, but Annrose waved them off lightly.
“I'll wash myself. You all go.”
“Pardon? Ah! Yes, miss. As you wish.”
Momentarily bewildered but knowing she hated repeating herself, the maids bowed and withdrew.
“Haa!”
As she sank into the warm water, the fatigue and languor from the past week eased slightly. Annrose closed her eyes quietly.
Tension gone, drowsiness crept in stealthily.
“No. Can't do that.”
She shook her head vigorously to banish sleep and focused her thoughts.
Now, she and the Veniard family had sided with Prince Henrik.
No, they had no choice.
News of Elberra would reach the capital in as little as four or five days, and like it or not, everyone would assume the Veniard family had joined Prince Henrik.
From now on, she had to think and act from Prince Henrik's camp.
“I need someone who can be an ally. And the most likely candidate right now is Earl Illein.”
Alfred Illein, Earl of the Capital Defense Forces.
He was the empire's emblematic hero of reversal, who had roamed battlefields alongside Prince Henrik under the late emperor's orders.
Moreover, he was the prince's same-age friend and had served as his chief lieutenant until just before the prince's legion departed south to suppress Kelkard's remnants—promoted for valor to command one of the capital defense legions at the last moment, missing the campaign.
They had shared life and death for nearly three years.
So if Prince Henrik harbored ambitions for the throne, Earl Illein would be the first he'd seek in Alteria—no doubt about it.
Annrose had thought the same.
“But the letter went not to Earl Illein, but to his daughter in Sorria...”
It blatantly defied expectations.
Perhaps it was just a simple letter of well-wishes, unrelated to the throne.
Yet Annrose felt no disappointment. She still believed—no, now firmly believed—Prince Henrik aimed for the crown.
The reason was simple.
“He wouldn't entrust a mere letter to his daughter to someone as formidable and monstrous as that. Especially not the Knight of Thousand Stratagems...”
That was the root of Annrose's conviction.
(To be continued in the next installment)
