The Emperor (5)
Those words — words shocking enough to bring my thoughts to a dead halt — did not leave me reeling alone.
"Wh-what did you just say?"
"Are you speaking in earnest?"
Apparently the Empress and the woman who had raised the proposal were the only two who had discussed this beforehand. Everyone gathered in the audience chamber, one and all, wore naked astonishment on their faces; not a single soul had imagined such a matter would ever come before the court.
A civil official with a somewhat composed air posed the obvious question.
"As for Your Majesty one day taking a consort and raising heirs — I, too, am in favor."
"......"
"But a matter of such weight, deserving far fuller deliberation — is there some reason Her Majesty's consort must be decided with such haste?"
Yes. That was exactly what I'd wanted to say.
The Emperor's consort... or ought I to call it Gukseo here — the husband of a reigning queen?
Even I, no student of power struggles, understood perfectly what an extraordinary position that was.
Consider Wu Zetian, China's first and only female emperor. Even she, for all her dominion, kept male favorites by the handful — but never once installed a formal consort. If China itself was like that, would any other realm truly differ? Setting aside Silla, where Queen Seondeok would one day take the throne, I rather doubted anyone in East Asia would ever ascend to the seat of Gukseo.
Well... that was the story of the original history, anyway. In this world the social standing of men and women was equal to an uncanny degree, so female emperors had appeared from time to time. There had been empresses who, like Wu Zetian, kept only male favorites and never named a consort, and others who took a single husband and lived out a tale of pure devotion.
Even so, this was hardly the sort of proposal to be rushed through in the space of a lightning flash. Marriage to the Emperor meant stepping into the very heart of power — the ministers themselves must have fought over it tooth and nail behind closed doors.
The woman who had fielded the question answered in a calm, level voice.
"I merely conveyed what Her Majesty the Emperor desires."
In other words: if that bothers you, go take it up with the Emperor yourself.
"......"
Confronted with that answer, the official who had asked could do nothing but fall silent.
When it came down to it, power really was the trump card. So long as the one enthroned was no paper figure, the seat of Emperor was precisely the position from which a determined ruler could push a proposal through to the bitter end, over any amount of ministerial opposition.
Lips pressed tightly shut, the visibly wrestling official opened his mouth again at last.
"...Your Majesty, is what has been said here today truly, verily Your own will?"
Oh? Well, well.
Bolder than I'd given him credit for.
He seemed genuinely afraid that Her Majesty might have been pressed into such a decision. Watching him, I understood at once — this man belonged to the same breed as the great dignitaries of the imperial court. The sort who would sooner snap clean through than bend.
In the original history, Dong Zhuo and Cao Cao wielded power absolute and unchecked, yet within their own ranks both were hounded endlessly by assassination plots. And no tree, as the saying goes, stays standing after ten blows — Dong Zhuo's life at last ended on Lü Bu's blade, at Wang Yun's instigation. Cao Cao was resourceful enough to slip every noose, but...
Who, then, were the ones who kept trying to bring such figures down? Precisely people like this — the ones loyal to the state. To such men, whether they themselves lived or died was never the question. All that mattered was whether they could offer up their loyalty and walk the righteous path.
In a way, you might call them martyrs. Wherever and whenever a nation stood on the brink of ruin, the righteous-hearted always seemed to spring up like bamboo shoots after rain. Swinging a blade in the open street was child's play to them; failing that, they reached for poison; and when neither would serve, they sowed discord, prying at any crack they could find.
Literally, truly loyal to an intangible thing — the idea of Han itself. Thanks to loyalists like these, the dynasty's lifeline stretched on a little longer than it otherwise might have.
When the quietly stubborn official demanded a straight answer, the Emperor replied in a placid voice.
"It is so."
"......"
That unhesitating reply only seemed to sink the man into still deeper thought. Honestly, watching that aged frame labor so devotedly for the country was nearly worthy of respect in its own right.
At that point the Emperor spoke again.
"None of you say it aloud, but We know full well what it is you fear."
"......"
"You grow uneasy, watching the General-in-Chief's power swell with each passing day."
Even as she said it, the Emperor wore her usual impassive expression.
"Someone among you is surely thinking it: bring in a consort from another illustrious house, make him the new center of the court, and use that house to check the military's influence. So the argument runs."
Ah. So that option was on the table, too.
...Not that I could name a single family capable of standing against me.
"A truly laughable proposition."
Having said that much, the Emperor let out a short, dry laugh.
"The moment our circumstances begin to mend, you would plunge the realm back into division?"
"Your Majesty, that is not what we meant—"
"Silence."
The Emperor snuffed out the hastily raised objection in a single breath.
"With external threats still strewn all about us, you mean to cleave our strength in two and set it snapping at its own throat."
"......"
"The dignity of the imperial house? Prudence against contingencies? Counsel not worth the hearing."
The Emperor fixed the old minister with a level stare.
"Tell Us — thanks to whose aid did the long-collapsing Han rise again?"
"That is..."
"Had the General-in-Chief truly harbored treachery in his heart, can you not see that the court would have been overturned from within long ago?"
Her words did not stop there.
"In such a world, perhaps We would still be breathing — but your heads would be lying strewn across the marketplace."
A touch bloodthirsty, Your Majesty. She seemed to be carrying quite a stockpile of grievances against these men.
"And further — you know full well that it was We who heaped that power upon the General-in-Chief to begin with, and still you would press such arguments?"
Under that pitiless interrogation, not only the old man who had posed the question but every minister present was left floundering.
"We can understand why Dong Zhuo's example makes you distrust factions arrived from without. But that you cannot even tell the trustworthy from the treacherous — that is what truly tries Our patience."
"Your Majesty..."
"Enough. The explaining alone has wearied Us."
The Emperor leaned back into the throne as if to say she would entertain no further argument.
"Your loyal devotion is already well known to Us."
"......"
"But We will not be withdrawing this decision. From this hour forward, let Us hear no more strange talk concerning the General-in-Chief."
Then the Emperor added, softly, with an edge beneath it:
"See that you understand this is truly the last chance you shall be given."
"...I shall engrave it upon my heart."
Though his office had looked modest enough, the old man — cut from the same cloth as the great dignitaries — bowed respectfully at the Emperor's admonition.
The same cloth as the great dignitaries, hm. Fine — let's just call him one outright. The rest of the dignitaries would likely think much as he did anyway.
In any case, once a man of that standing raised no objection to the woman's proposal, the others likewise held their peace and voiced no dissent. Those who placed the Han above all else had, as we had just witnessed, been talked around by the Emperor herself; and those already wholly in my camp had no reason to object. It was only natural. As for the types who leap from faction to faction — well. Ever since they had seen what became of the Jing Province magnates and Yuan Shu, they had been crawling on their bellies without pause. The Emperor had flatly named this their final chance; for such men, prostrating themselves was the only road left.
Satisfied that no soul would oppose, the Emperor opened her mouth in that same even tone.
"Now then — does anyone here object to the General-in-Chief being taken as Our consort?"
"None whatsoever, Your Majesty!"
The ones who had spent the whole session carefully reading the room seized their cue and chorused their approval.
Hearing all this, I could not help voicing a question of my own.
Um... has anyone asked the opinion of the party concerned?
They left out the single most important part — so why does this feel like the meeting is about to wrap up?
With everyone else bending slightly at the waist, I stared blankly up at the Emperor — discourteously so, I am sure. She merely flashed a smile at my behavior and, as though determined never to grant me the floor, carried on with practiced ease.
"No need for further debate, then. When the appointed time comes, the marriage shall proceed."
"A most joyous occasion for the realm!"
"Then We declare this audience concluded."
So this is what it feels like to be an invisible man.
While I stood there like a barley sack someone had propped upright and forgotten, the meeting ended at the speed of light.
"......"
What was done was done. I had always known I would have to see this through to the end someday — if anything, I ought to count this a good opportunity.
Still, one thing gnawed at me.
I turned my head slightly toward the woman who had put the proposal forward.
...Who on earth was she?
I had seen her face plenty of times, yet I knew nothing whatsoever about what she actually did. Nor could I guess what designs lay behind her attempt to match me with Her Majesty the Emperor. Could this be connected, I wondered, to Liu Yu — the man called the great pillar of the imperial house — coming to me as a go-between?
The woman, remarkably petite for a grown woman, swept from her seat in a swirl of brown hair, and I stared after her for a long moment before turning away.