To the North - 2
Marquis. The second of the five noble ranks. Sitting immediately beneath Duke lent it a faintly eternal-runner-up air, yet it remained an immense title—one capable of placing even Counts under its command, to say nothing of Viscounts and Barons.
Moreover, Dukes, the pinnacle of the five ranks, had numbered only five throughout the Empire’s three hundred years of history. That made Marquis the practical ceiling for imperial nobility. In other words, it was the dream seat every noble of the Empire yearned for.
And what everyone yearned for meant the scramble for those seats was fierce.
Unlike the Dukes, whose places are guaranteed.
The five first-class founding heroes who had made decisive contributions to establishing the Empire. Only the five houses that inherited those heroes’ names could ever hold a Dukedom, no matter the circumstances. However incompetent, a Duke remained a Duke forever; conversely, no matter how capable a Marquis, he could never become a Duke. That was the imperial family’s respect for the heroes who had set the Mandate of Heaven aright.
But Marquis enjoyed no such protection. Incompetence meant swift displacement; ability meant one could climb. Put kindly, it was merit-based selection; put bluntly, it was a living hell beyond human endurance. At its worst, four marquis houses had changed hands in a single year.
One was pushed out recently, too.
I looked down at the white seal in my hand. Only a few years ago this seal had had an owner.
But that owner had crossed the line the Emperor set far too brazenly, and in the end the seal was confiscated. The Empire’s Marquises dropped from thirteen to twelve.
“When the Great Emperor set the Mandate of Heaven aright, he respected those who gathered under the name of Crefelofen and bestowed titles befitting them. The marquisate was conferred upon those who led vast forces among them.”
“It was possible only because the Great Emperor’s virtue covered the world.”
I answered the Emperor by instinct—though calling it respect and bestowal was putting a fine face on things. In the founding days the Empire had been little more than a ragtag coalition.
In other words, the Marquises of that era had been closer to allies or warlords than the Emperor’s subordinates. Of course, by the present day they were nothing more than subjects hoping for imperial favor.
“As the Audit Department Chief says, the Great Emperor’s virtue was more than enough to cover the world. And because his benevolence ran as deep as the sea, His Majesty limited the number of Marquises to thirteen out of respect for their authority.”
It was dressed up nicely, but the reality was that too many Marquises would be a headache, so he stopped at thirteen. And over three hundred years that number thirteen had become a tradition that was not quite tradition, and the seals of the Empire’s Marquises numbered thirteen. Neither fewer nor more—a kind of Maginot Line.
“Yet I, descendant of the Great Emperor, have failed to uphold that beautiful will, so how can I not lament?”
“Your Majesty. Your Majesty confiscated the marquis seal for the sake of the Mandate of Heaven and the Empire. The Great Emperor would have watched Your Majesty’s noble decision with joy.”
And yet that marquisate had stood vacant for two years. Not a temporary vacancy—two full years.
Capable and prestigious Counts must have seen the marquisate glittering before their eyes, yet they restrained themselves because they knew the vacancy was the seat left after Aeshilon was smashed. Coveting a marquisate the Emperor had confiscated even to the point of destroying his own in-laws looked far too much like treason. Aim too high and you could fall lower.
“With a subject like the Audit Department Chief, I am truly a blessed Emperor. Yet continuing to leave vacant the thirteen seats the Great Emperor established is indeed my lack of virtue.”
Anyway, the reason the Emperor was saying all this while drawing out the marquis seal was obvious. He meant to fill the thirteenth seat that had been empty for two years.
First of all, there was no chance I would become the thirteenth. Even receiving a countship had agitated the nobles; receiving a marquisate on top of that? And as the heir of an Imperial Count? Even nobles crushed under imperial authority would likely throw a fit. Plenty would grab me by the collar demanding to know why I was taking it.
And fortunately, this thirteenth seal already had its owner decided.
Perhaps the North will fill Aeshilon’s thirteenth seat.
The words the Minister had spoken during the muster order came back to me.
Yes, this marquisate was for the North, not for imperial nobles. More precisely, it would go to the most useful and loyal chieftain among the northern tribes.
“The vast North will also enter the Empire’s embrace. Then the nomads too must properly become imperial subjects, so the imperial family must prepare to embrace them.”
Having said that, the Emperor fell silent for a moment before speaking again.
“Audit Department Chief.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You must embrace the North as the representative of my will.”
I bowed my head deeply at those words.
The marquis seal in my hand felt heavy. If he had even handed me the seal, the Emperor’s calculations must already be complete. Now I only needed to contact the chieftain the Emperor had in mind and deliver this seal—
“I leave the seal’s owner to the Audit Department Chief’s discretion. Hand it to whoever you judge fitting.”
?
Excuse me?
My discretion?
Decide the Empire’s Marquis on my own authority? Not the Emperor designating one?
“Y-Your Majesty. I humbly report that this subject’s insight does not even reach Your Majesty’s feet, so I dare not accept that command.”
I first knelt and set the seal on the floor. Whether those words were sincere or a sudden loyalty test, I had to refuse for now.
If it had been a countship with no number limit, I might have gone along, but this was one of only thirteen marquisates in the Empire. Leaving it not to the Emperor’s will but to the discretion of a mere civil servant? Was he insane.
“I cannot see the northern chieftains with my own eyes. No matter how many reports come up, they are only letters. The one who can see and judge them directly is the Audit Department Chief.”
The Emperor lifted the seal I had set on the floor and personally pressed it into my hand.
“Fear not. Trust your own eye. The one you choose shall be Marquis, and I shall consider that choice correct.”
At those words I felt my pupils tremble madly.
Even if I handed the seal to some bastard unfit for marquis, the imperial family would support that chieftain and make him into someone worthy of the title—so don’t worry.
Fuck.
Even more pressure. No civil servant could hear the supreme decision-maker promising full support and remain unfazed. Trust this heavy was crushing.
“…I shall surely repay Your Majesty’s great faith.”
Of course, once things had reached this point, I could no longer refuse.
From today, I was a Marquis-maker.
Just before leaving the office, I was told to also grant countships to a few decent chieftains. Countships weren’t rocks; could they really be scattered so freely?
They really are rocks.
Thinking about it, from the Emperor’s perspective a countship was a title he could scatter without issue. Same as rocks, huh.
From today, I was a stone-maker.
After confirming the Audit Department Chief had left, I sat down. Perhaps because of my age, even a short audience was enough to pile on fatigue.
Yet unlike the physical fatigue, my mind was clear. The matters that needed handling seemed to be progressing smoothly.
No need to worry about distributing the titles.
When I entrusted the marquis seal to the Audit Department Chief and mentioned the countships, what showed on his face was bewilderment and burden. Not a trace of greed or calculation.
Plenty of nobles would exploit the authority to bestow titles if it landed in their hands. They would play on the razor edge between national interest and private gain.
A great blessing for the Empire.
But the Audit Department Chief was not like that. He thought not of private interest and focused on the mission itself.
Nobles who could be entrusted with any mission were few; nobles who focused on the mission alone without any selfish desire were even fewer. That such a rare noble was only in his twenties, and in a close relationship with the Crown Prince, was pure joy. As long as I handled the Audit Department Chief properly, I would never have my hands and feet tied for lack of talent.
The existence of a confidant one could trust and entrust was important. I myself could never have come this far without the Minister of Palace Affairs.
…Truly a great blessing.
Having set aside worries about title distribution, I reached for the documents and my head throbbed.
This again.
My brow furrowed of its own accord. No matter how hard one tried, age could not be cheated. A martial artist who had reached a high realm could live long while looking young for his years, but I was a mere ordinary person far removed from martial arts.
Moreover, I had not lived a particularly peaceful life, so strain on the body was inevitable.
I only need to endure a little longer.
I let out a soft sigh and picked up the documents.
Yes, only a little further. Once I eliminate the northern threat and appoint the soon-to-be-born imperial grandchild as Imperial Grandson, my mission ends. I can do everything within my power and pass the throne to the Crown Prince.
So I must endure. For the Mandate of Heaven, for the imperial family.
For the Empire and its subjects.
Several days passed again after receiving the Emperor’s surprise gift.
At first I felt conflicted every time I looked at the seal sleeping carefully in my breast, but with time I grew used to it. Used enough that I started worrying I might pull out the marquis seal by mistake when I needed to stamp with the Audit Department Chief’s seal.
Should I just go crazy and stamp with it?
The thought flashed through my mind for a moment. If I just used the marquis seal outright, wouldn’t the Emperor take it back?
The problem was he would probably take my head along with it.
Damn it.
I massaged the back of my neck and sighed. Truth was, I hadn’t grown used to it. Who could get used to having something that far exceeded their authority sitting in their hand? My personal Maginot Line was the count seal.
Yet he gave a marquis seal as well to someone whose pocket was already heavy with a count seal. The Emperor’s heavy trust was enough to bring tears.
My discretion, huh.
So I resolved. I didn’t know which bastard would catch my eye, but if he seemed decent I would toss the seal right away. I would make him the Empire’s first nomad noble and nomad Marquis.
It would be a title that bastard never chose, but he would have to endure with dedication and duty.
…And who do I give the countships to.
The marquis was only one, but I would have to appoint at least six counts.
This was driving me insane for real.