Settlement (3)
Settlement (3)
"...Therefore, the crime of assassinating Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Dowager has been legitimately proven. I declare the accused guilty."
The sound echoes inside the quiet courtroom.
"Therefore, this court sentences Charlotte von Stafford and William von Stafford to death, ordering them to be led to the execution site and beheaded there. Furthermore, William von Stafford is stripped of his title of Count, and his descendants lose the right to inherit it. All property belonging to him, along with the fief and rights attached to the said earldom, are confiscated and assigned to the Imperial Family."
As the Chief Justice finishes speaking, the Lord Protector rises from his seat and continues as if taking over.
"By imperial decree of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor, the successor among the Stafford family clan shall be confined to Finetol Fortress, while the remaining direct descendants shall be banished from the territory of the Empire and forbidden to enter without special permission from His Majesty."
With that as the grand finale, the trial came to an end.
Considering the trial had started much later than originally planned because they waited for the funeral to end, it was a rather anticlimactic conclusion.
The execution date was set for three days later.
Once the execution was announced, things moved swiftly.
In the square, a platform fitted with a sharp guillotine was erected in a single day.
I was watching it from the imperial castle alongside the Lord Protector.
I had been practically forced to sit in an annex room of the imperial castle that was closest to the square.
It was a spot out of sight from the other citizens and nobles.
Word has it that this was traditionally the seat where members of the imperial family observed executions.
"Your Majesty, what do you think you will be witnessing today?"
"Is it not an execution?"
"No, Your Majesty. It is the price paid by those who assassinated Her Majesty the Empress Dowager. Your Majesty must remember the price of their deeds and show it to all."
It was the kind of situation and tone of voice that would have easily duped a real 11-year-old child.
"How the Empire responds to those who shed the blood of the Imperial Family."
"The Empire's... response..."
It was enough to make me let out a hollow laugh.
You have to show how the Empire responds to those who shed the blood of the Imperial Family?
When the bastard who killed my mother is you.
When you were the one who orchestrated everything from start to finish.
This man was talking to me as if he were the sole loyal subject in existence.
"That's right! They are bad guys!"
"Indeed, Your Majesty. How the Empire punishes bad people—that is what is important."
"Bad guys must be killed!"
At my words, the Lord Protector smiles brightly. I smile too.
However, not wanting to look into those eyes any longer, I turn my head toward the execution site.
The only execution sites I used to know involved tying someone up on a wide dirt ground and lopping off their head.
For me, who only knew the kind of execution where those involved gathered to get it over with quickly, this European-style execution ground was a sight I was seeing for the first time.
While not quite at the level of mother's funeral, a vast crowd had still gathered, filling the square to capacity.
In the center of the crowd was a circular open space, and within that empty space stood the platform and the guillotine.
Suddenly, I recalled a story I had heard in the past.
That medieval public executions felt like dopamine-fueling events for the citizens of that era.
Looking at it now, it didn't seem to be a complete fabrication.
There was none of the solemn atmosphere seen during the funeral; people were laughing, chatting, and cheering amongst themselves.
To top it off, there were even street vendors selling food on one side.
Judging by the vibe alone, it looked like a passing reporter might ask, "Is this a festival?"
And in reality, for the citizens, it probably wasn't all that different.
As I was pondering that, the soldiers moved to create a path.
The crowd of citizens split apart, forming a single path.
And walking down that path toward the execution stage was a sight too terrible to even be called human.
Far beyond just limping, she couldn't even walk properly, moving only with the support of knights.
Even from here, her exposed skin had not a single uninjured spot, and her fingernails appeared to be completely gone.
Her eyes were sunken and her lips were split open. She was so gaunt that it made one doubt whether she was even alive.
Amidst all that, the fact that there was not a single wound on her face struck me as downright chilling.
Supported like that, she walked up to the execution platform and knelt down on the spot.
A nobleman stepped forward, unfurled a parchment, and said something.
Every time the words "Do you admit your guilt?" came out of the noble's mouth, she replied without a moment's hesitation, "I do."
As if she had been waiting for that very thing, there were times she answered even before the question was finished.
A man who appeared to be a clergyman came forward to offer a prayer, and soon her neck was secured into the guillotine.
Surely we were far apart.
Even though she shouldn't be able to see this direction at all.
For some reason, I felt as though our eyes met.
She was... smiling.
As if this was the only thing she had been waiting for, as if praying for it to end quickly.
I clenched my fist tightly.
I wondered if I should hide it from the Lord Protector beside me, but I decided to do the opposite instead.
Far from hiding it, I vented my emotions as if I were about to scream right then and there.
I caught a faint glance of the Lord Protector's satisfied smile.
The Lord Protector's smile and her smile on the execution stage overlapped.
This is... my karma.
Because I am weak, someone who doesn't need to die is dying.
Just how many people must I kill?
To stay alive myself, how many must I sacrifice and stand atop of?
...I will not ask for forgiveness.
This was something I had to shoulder, not something to seek forgiveness for.
Therefore, without fail. Someday, without fail. I will exact that revenge for you.
In the name of the Emperor.
The guillotine blade falls.
With a thud, her head rolled across the execution stage.
The thunderous cheers of the citizens echoed through the square.
...Her face looked remarkably at peace.
＊ ＊ ＊
"It seems the execution is already over."
"Not a chance. They've probably only just finished with the actual perpetrator."
Exhaling pipe smoke from his mouth, Andrew grimaced at the sound of the distant cheers.
"You're still the same as ever. Do you dislike executions that much?"
"Those who ought to die must die. I simply dislike treating human life as entertainment."
Tap, tap. Knocking the ashes out of his pipe, Andrew placed his hand on the teacup set before him.
And suddenly, he paused at the aroma drifting up to his nose.
"Orange and bergamot, is it...?"
"It's not an exact copy of what Her Majesty the Empress Dowager used to drink. I blended it anew in my own preferred style."
"I see..."
Back when the Empress Dowager was still called Empress Consort, Serena had served as her lady-in-waiting before moving on to become the lady-in-waiting to the First Prince.
For someone like her, it wasn't strange to know the black tea the Empress Dowager used to drink.
It was just that bringing it out now felt meaningful.
"So."
Therefore, Andrew spoke up first before bringing the black tea to his lips.
"What is your reason for seeking me out? Having vanished for over ten years and hidden under the name of the Velvet Rat... tell me why you've chosen to contact us now of all times."
"Asking so directly won't make you popular with the ladies, you know?"
"Unfortunately for you, my wife happens to like my personality. Just answer me. I am only entertaining this out of consideration for our past connection."
And indeed he was.
This place was neither a Velvet Rat hideout nor a public venue; it was the drawing room of Andrew's residence, the Bartolomeo mansion.
On top of that, she had brought her own tea leaves and asked him to brew tea with them.
Serena was acting as though she were in her own home. However, she was not just a commoner, but a ruined noble whose family had been stripped of their title for failing to protect the First Prince; if word got out that she was meeting face-to-face with Andrew, it wouldn't end well for either of them.
"How heartless."
Saying so, Serena took a sip of her black tea and wiped away the smile she had worn until a moment ago.
"...I,"
And finally, a voice flowed from lips that had remained tightly shut until now.
"I literally fell straight to hell."
Heavily. Oh so heavily.
"His late Majesty the Emperor showed mercy, but Maximilian did not. I was truly stripped of everything. My family, my home, the Prince, and even this body of mine."
Andrew's eyebrows twitched.
"Even so, I didn't give up. Thanks to that, in just three years, I was able to buy a brothel with my own strength."
Wiping away her rigid expression from a moment ago, Serena flashed a seductive smile.
To Andrew, that smile looked even more pitiful than a crying face.
Back then, she was a young lady who had only recently made her debutante. She was even the precious apple of the Florentius family's eye who had risen from being the Prince's personal lady-in-waiting to his fiancée.
The hell into which such a woman had fallen was something Andrew found hard to even comprehend.
"Please don't make a face like that. I consider those three years to have been quite rewarding. Thanks to that time, I gained people I can trust, and I learned how to survive in the underworld."
She giggled softly. It was a smile just like the one he used to see on her in the old days.
"Managing a brothel gathers quite a lot of information, as it turns out. So the thought struck me: why not use this? After that, I moved through the underworld, sowing favors and grudges, and ultimately founded the Velvet Rat."
Serena pauses for a moment and drinks her black tea.
Phew, she let out a sigh and set down her teacup.
"I used everything I could get my hands on. Doing business with nobles meant money and information came rolling in on their own."
"...I'd love to listen to your reminiscing, but unfortunately, we don't have much time."
The sound of cheering echoing all the way to the Bartolomeo mansion resounded once more.
Today's executions were two. With this, it is over.
It's about time the crowd is dispersed from the square.
"State your business."
"The only crack in Maximilian's armor is right now."
She says.
"This crack won't last long. It might be big right now. He's lost a lot, and he's suffered major damage. But how long will that last? Five years? Ten years? No. At the earliest, within a year, he will start reclaiming his power."
"Therefore," she continues speaking.
"The only time to enter the imperial castle is right now."
"You're not suggesting we infiltrate the imperial castle, are you?"
"I have no intention of doing something so foolish and dying a pointless death. If I were going to do that, I wouldn't have returned."
Serena looked straight into Andrew's eyes.
"Adopt me as your daughter."
"...What?"
"It doesn't have to be as a daughter of the Bartolomeo Count family. However, it must be a Count family or higher. To enter as a lady-in-waiting to the Emperor, one must be at least from a Count family. A Marquis family would be ideal, but since the Former Emperor Faction has no marquisates, I'll compromise with a Count."
"Wait... Wait, what on earth are you talking about?"
"Now that a crack has formed in Maximilian's power, the inner circle around the Emperor will be reorganized."
That was something Andrew had been thinking as well.
"The Emperor's tutor will also change. Until now, Maximilian decided everything, but once the next cabinet council convenes, Leonius and Dietrich won't stay quiet. Furthermore, I've received information that the Grand Duke of the South Sea is preparing for war."
"What? Wasn't the Grand Duke of the South Sea on the same side as the Eastern Margrave? The Eastern Margrave wouldn't have wanted a war."
"He probably won't actually start a war. I had information that Mikanabis visited the Eastern Margrave's residence just the day before yesterday. They are likely coordinating their opinions."
Hearing up to that point, a certain question arose in Andrew's mind.
"Looking at it that way, it's a bit strange. It's not like he lacks justification. The Grand Duke of the South Sea can move. If the Grand Duke of the South Sea moves, there should be no reason for the Eastern Margrave to relinquish his title and join the Imperial Guards."
Indeed.
The Grand Duke of the South Sea had more than enough justification. He could gather soldiers as much as he wanted and march all the way to this imperial capital.
Though it would take at least half a year, bringing an army was by no means impossible. Since there was justification, even the Gate Grand Duke couldn't simply block his path.
If so, the Eastern Margrave could simply join in as well. It wasn't impossible.
Yet, on the contrary, the Eastern Margrave had grown reluctant toward war and shifted toward protecting the Emperor's person.
Why?
"Secret correspondence with the Norden Kingdom."
"...That is..."
"That was revealed during this incident. There was evidence of secret correspondence with the Norden Kingdom. Because of that, the Imperiani, which had once been disbanded, is revived, and the Northern Knights are dispatched to watch for enemies."
Imperiani—at that name, Andrew felt a brief surge of complex emotions, but he forced them aside for now.
"It's fabricated evidence anyway, isn't it? That's Maximilian's favorite trick."
Yes. Just like the Florentius Count family, who had been branded as traitors because of that very 'fabricated evidence'.
"No. I hear that's not the case."
"...What?"
"There's a possibility they are genuinely involved. Norden and Maximilian."
"That's impossible. From Norden's perspective, Maximilian would be an irreconcilable enemy."
"Who knows? That might be true among common citizens. But can we really say the same for the nobles?"
He couldn't be certain that it was impossible.
Andrew knew it too. Nobles were creatures who would join hands with anyone if it served their own profit.
"No way."
"We have to verify it. And that is information you can't learn from the outside."
"It won't be any different on the inside, though?"
"At least an opportunity will present itself. Uncle Andrew. I've been seizing those opportunities all my life."
So believe in me.
"It could be discovered that you were the young lady of Florentius. In the imperial palace, you can't even use your specialty, illusion magic."
"It's fine."
Serena smiles.
"I didn't become the leader of the Velvet Rat by winning a bet, you know."
It was the brightest smile he had seen on her yet.
Andrew thinks.
If she fails, it won't end with just her death. He himself won't be safe either.
...Hadn't he prepared himself for that from the very beginning?
That day, when he made up his mind to offer honest counsel to that young Emperor. Was his resolve back then—when he believed he had to convey his words even if a blade were plunged into his throat—a lie?
Not a chance.
"In that case, there is something you need to know as well."
Andrew opened his heavy mouth.
To tell the truth about the Emperor that she did not know.