The Emperor's Birthday Banquet (5)
The faces of Cardinal Grious and his cronies hardened.
They had never imagined that Professor Elmaier would step forward.
They could have silenced any other noble by accusing them of rudeness. But Elmaier was a member of the imperial side-branch family.
Moreover, he was a renowned scholar holding a key position in one of Pantheon's orders. There was no pretext to silence him.
Instead, Emperor Iderst welcomed his intervention with evident delight.
"Perfect timing, Duke Elmaier. You're an exceptional alchemist, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't claim to be that impressive. But I can certainly address Archbishop Murriol's doubts. Allow me to explain."
Elmaier gazed at the ice crystal statue as he spoke.
"Count Yulian von Reinhardt crafted this ice crystal statue himself. As a student of Pantheon, he frequently visited my office for advice on the statue's creation. He consulted me on the necessary formulas at each stage, and I received reports on the entire process. There is no room for doubt."
It was true. Even amid the frantic work on the statue this past week, he hadn't skipped his alchemy lectures. And he'd sought Elmaier's counsel at every step.
He's so immersed in alchemy that he actually enjoyed it.
Gasps of astonishment rippled through the attendees.
"So the count really made it himself. And from Duke Elmaier, no less—an imperial and a master alchemist."
"Besides, he's a pure scholar. Even if the count is the margrave's heir, Elmaier has no reason to flatter him."
"Then it's undoubtedly true. But how did the count master such advanced alchemy? What an incredible drive to learn."
The tide of opinion had clearly turned. With an expert among experts vouching for it, even Archbishop Murriol couldn't refute.
Murriol's an alchemist too. He knows Elmaier's stature all too well.
Murriol was at a loss for words. But his expression showed no sign of easy surrender.
He had stepped forward boldly to impress Cardinal Grious. Backing down meekly now would only bolster the emperor's and my momentum.
And Grious isn't the type to overlook a subordinate's blunder so lightly.
As expected, he made one final desperate lunge.
"But! The count is a Pantheon student, so the professor might be taking his side as a fellow academic. No—in fact, he must be! Didn't Duke Elmaier do most of the work himself?"
"No. I only advised on the theory and formulas for altering the ice crystal. Truth be told, I was intrigued by the project and, as Archbishop Murriol suggests, wanted to participate directly. But the count firmly refused. He said it was a tribute to Your Majesty and an apology for any rudeness—thus, he had to make it himself as a matter of propriety."
Elmaier's words were the decisive blow. The attendees nodded in agreement.
"Such heartfelt dedication in that statue! No other way to achieve results like this."
"Indeed. The Reinhardt family's loyalty is unmatched. No wonder they're called the empire's sword."
The emperor shared their sentiment. With a moved expression, he turned to me.
"If Duke Elmaier says so, it must be true. Did you go to such lengths, Count Yulian? Your loyalty to me runs that deep!"
But Archbishop Murriol still wore a face of utter disbelief. He shouted,
"Even so, no mere Pantheon cadet could produce a statue of this caliber!!"
"Good grief. Some people just won't listen. Then have Count Yulian resonate with the ice crystal through alchemy. Would you believe it then?"
Elmaier replied.
Alchemy resonance was based on the creator's recognition of the material. If I'd made it myself, simply infusing mana would trigger a perfect resonance. Elmaier explained this to the emperor and those around us.
"It would be the most irrefutable proof. Count Yulian, would you infuse some mana into the ice crystal?"
"Of course."
It was no trouble at all. I lightly channeled mana into the statue.
Wuuuuuung—
The statue emitted a soft blue glow and a clear resonance hum. An undeniable testament that my hands had shaped it.
Murriol's face twisted in despair.
"There you have it. Anything more to say, Archbishop Murriol?"
Elmaier pressed, and Murriol offered no rebuttal. He quietly retreated to Cardinal Grious's side.
Grious glossed over his subordinate's disgrace by changing the subject.
"The count's loyalty! Your Majesty has witnessed it firsthand—what joy it must bring. With Essemont's tribute concluded, shall we begin the banquet proper..."
"Hold on. Before that, don't we have unfinished business?"
I cut Grious off.
I had no intention of letting Archbishop Murriol's insult slide.
Before all these people, he'd tried to humiliate me. The Reinhardt heir couldn't simply overlook that malice.
Our eyes met—Grious's cold, greed-filled gaze. I met it squarely and declared,
"What do you mean, Count?"
"Archbishop Murriol questioned my loyalty before Your Majesty. Isn't that right?"
Grious's face crumpled in fury.
* * *
I pointed to the ice crystal statue.
Then, in a calm voice laced with just a hint of anger at the end, I continued.
"This statue is my personal creation, toiled over day and night to celebrate Your Majesty's birthday. Yet in the midst of this banquet, Archbishop Murriol doubted its sincerity. I am the heir of House Reinhardt and leader of Essemont's delegation. Doubting me is tantamount to doubting my great-uncle, Margrave Wilhelm."
Grious couldn't counter. The emperor nodded as if in full agreement.
"The count speaks truly. Duke Elmaier has confirmed his loyalty beyond doubt. But to question it twice is an insult to House Reinhardt. Moreover, the count is my sister Lilia's fiancé. It leaves a poor taste in my mouth as well. Hmph."
The banquet hall's atmosphere chilled.
Puppet emperor or not, his displeasure was plain now.
This was an official gathering of nobles and envoys. In such a grand setting, if the emperor was angered, someone had to answer for it.
And the culprit stood right here. Grious shot Murriol a momentary glare of icy contempt.
"Apologize to His Majesty, Archbishop Murriol."
"I... I'm sorry! Your Majesty, I have been rude!"
Murriol bowed to the emperor. But that wouldn't suffice.
To keep these nobles from siding with the south.
House Asterik and House Reinhardt had to demonstrate their unyielding strength—and solidarity.
I addressed the emperor.
"If I may, Your Majesty, allow me to speak again. Archbishop Murriol demanded an oath to the god Jedin from me. I answered that oath with this gift. Yet he treats that oath lightly. And his rudeness before Your Majesty and Lilia's fiancé, myself."
My words were perfectly logical. In the Holy Empire, before the emperor himself, it was Murriol who had invoked the god's name so casually.
The emperor wasn't a fool, for all his mediocrity. He grasped my implication at once.
"Quite right, Count. Archbishop Murriol, you committed grave rudeness before the emperor—that is, myself—and the count. Doubting the intent of a tribute to me and invoking the god's oath. You should make amends accordingly. Don't you agree!"
His expression was resolute, uncharacteristically so. His anger was palpable to all.
The statue had pleased him greatly, amplifying the effect of my prodding.
I could see Cardinal Grious's eyebrow twitch.
Caught in a dilemma, Murriol finally grasped the gravity. He dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before the emperor.
"Mercy, Your Majesty!"
The full prostration—ochoetuji. As a Central Order archbishop, his rank rivaled that of feudal lords. For him to grovel in public was utter humiliation.
But before the emperor, he was just another priest.
Grious might endure it, but this fool can't hold out.
The emperor added,
"Yes, that is proper atonement. Hmph..."
But Murriol's humiliation wasn't over.
"And since you insulted Count Yulian as well, apologize to him too."
Murriol rose from the floor, glaring at me with resentment.
For a mere twenty-one-year-old upstart to receive a personal apology from an archbishop—more humiliating than prostrating before the emperor.
His body trembled as he hesitated. The emperor bellowed,
"What are you waiting for, Murriol! Apologize! Do you defy my command?!"
Reluctantly, the archbishop bowed to me.
I barely suppressed a surge of laughter from deep within, receiving his apology with impeccable noble courtesy.
I won't cross paths with Murriol again anyway.
Grious was ruthless. He wouldn't forgive this disgrace from a subordinate. Murriol's future was as good as hell.
I silently wished peace upon his doomed fate as he faded into history's shadows. With the commotion resolved, the emperor ascended the dais once more.
He was so taken with the statue that even from his throne, his eyes lingered on it.
Finally collecting himself with a cough, he addressed me.
"Thus, I have witnessed the loyalty of Count Yulian and Essemont. As emperor of the empire, I shall reward you accordingly. Speak your desire."
Puppet or not, he was the Holy Empire's emperor. All eyes turned to me, eager to see what grand boon I'd claim.
And since I'd endured this hassle for that very reward, now was the time to reap it.
I told the emperor,
"I wish to study alongside Princess Lilia."
An answer none of the attendees could have anticipated.
* * *
The emperor's birthday ceremony concluded.
The banquet began in earnest. Luxuries beyond a commoner's wildest dreams—exquisite foods and wines—streamed endlessly to the tables.
Banquets were vital arenas for noble networking. As Essemont's representative, I couldn't afford to stand still. I moved briskly.
"Cardinal Grious took the hint and withdrew. The hall feels livelier now," Mason remarked.
Grious had excused himself citing poor health. No doubt seething over his subordinate's blunder moments ago.
"All the better for us. The nobles no longer need to watch their step around him. You'll be busy, Sir Mason—as will I."
"I see—you foresaw even that. Well played, my lord. You handled yourself impeccably before His Majesty. With the palace and Essemont's bond so visibly ironclad, even southern-leaning lords will think twice. A masterstroke."
As Mason said, nobles flocked nonstop to our delegation's table.
Their chatter was casual small talk, but noble rhetoric hid frantic undercurrents in every word.
Mason Viscount was a master of such discourse. Even I, steeped in noble society, could see him subtly swaying the moderate arrivals.
"Representatives of the Aiterne Merchant Group! That beautiful tribute to His Majesty—I saw it all."
Next came envoys from Marquis Aiterne's house.
Essemont's might paired with Aiterne's wealth could shake the world.
Military power and capital joining hands.
Beyond arms, Essemont held much that Aiterne coveted. Mason grew even busier.
"Hmph. As expected of a palace banquet—the wines are top-tier, aren't they, Count Yulian?"
Chloe, daughter of the Aiterne house, approached with a glass of wine. Her jewel-like red eyes sparkled.
She licked her lips lightly, her gaze brimming with greed.