Rejoice, the Imperial Grandchild Has Arrived! - 2

Corvus Eimanka Libnoman of Kpelleofen, better known as Eimanka XVI. The reigning Emperor of the Kpelleofen Empire, and the rare breed of sovereign who had dragged an empire teetering on the brink of ruin back onto the road of prosperity.

Some nobles had even proposed bestowing upon the present Emperor the title of Great Emperor—once reserved solely for Eimanka I—and changing the middle name of all subsequent emperors from "Eimanka" to "Corvus." His stature defied ordinary description.

And yet even this Emperor carried a fatal weakness: he was the first collateral-line emperor in Kpelleofen history.

A pretty distant collateral, at that.

Frankly, the current Emperor had been so far from the throne that "distant" barely covered it. He himself had probably identified more as a noble than as a member of the imperial bloodline.

But the direct line of Libnoman had gone down in spectacular fashion—scheming and intrigue among the legitimate heirs, a medical art strong against trauma yet helpless against disease that kept infant mortality high, and an imperial fertility rate that had been low to begin with. It had all piled up until a mere count ascended the throne.

Having ruled for decades under the shadow of that legitimacy problem, the Emperor had wanted at least his own successor to be a legitimate eldest son. Regrettably, the Emperor's legitimate eldest son turned out to be the second prince—the kind of creature one might have scraped up from under a bridge.

Even now, the absurdity of it still hit hard. How, under an emperor like that, did such a pup ever get born?

It should have been the Crown Prince as the legitimate eldest son.

Thanks to that, the imperial house had suffered the rare humiliation of two successive legitimacy deficits. The Emperor had swallowed the twin curses rising in his throat and purged the second prince's faction—but as of today, the imperial house had finally slipped free of that chronic weakness and found the light.

I read the group message that had arrived through the communication sphere once more.

In the Emperor's own lifetime, a child had been born between the Crown Prince and the Crown Princess. Kpelleofen already had a precedent of empresses on the throne, so the child's sex did not matter. What mattered was that this was the firstborn.

The Emperor would almost certainly name this grandchild Imperial Crown Grandchild and lock the succession into place. Once the Crown Prince received the abdication, the Imperial Crown Grandchild would become Crown Prince—or Crown Princess. An unassailable, ironclad line of succession, complete.

So a day like this has finally come.

I felt close to tears. Setting aside the fact that the Crown Prince—who had never quite seemed like a human being—had produced a child at all, a legitimacy max-level heir had just been born into an imperial house that only a few years ago had been torn by succession disputes. Any civil servant who had lived through a succession crisis could not help but feel the weight of the moment.

...My twilight years are going to be peaceful.

Please, let no major disasters explode during my remaining term of service. That was the earnest prayer of a civil servant—and it was the same whether in the world before my transmigration or in this one.

Around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dawn the next day, the Academy issued a three-day holiday. A highborn Imperial Grandchild had been born; set your studies aside for a moment and celebrate.

Moreover, His Majesty the Emperor seemed so delighted by the birth that the three-day leave was extended not only to Academy students but to every civil servant in the administration. Truly, His Majesty was a wise and merciful sovereign.

Yes—wise and merciful indeed. Except...

"What gift should we present to the Imperial Grandchild?"

"Silk will do. The child will grow by the day, so the clothes will need changing often enough."

"That makes sense."

Civil servant Karl might have been on leave, but Count Karl of Wiridia was still on the clock.

Damn it all.

Tears threatened again, for an entirely different reason than yesterday. I was on leave, my lovers were free of school, and we ought to have been enjoying a quiet date—yet as a titled noble and heir to an Imperial Count, I simply could not ignore the birth of an Imperial Grandchild.

So at first light I had rushed to the Imperial Capital and put my heads together with the Minister for a discussion of the most social kind imaginable: what gift to present to the Imperial Grandchild.

"Ah—they say the little lady takes after Her Highness the Crown Princess and is a beauty, so blue silk should do. The House of Duke Nuren is fond of blue as well."

"At least we have the color settled. That's a relief."

With silk as the broad category and blue as the specific, a little of the weight lifted from my chest. The hard part of gifts was always the deciding; once the choice was made, the rest was easy.

Takes after the Crown Princess, does she?

The Minister's words brought to mind the Supreme Command Headquarters I had passed on my way to the Ministry of Finance. No wonder they had been setting off fireworks since morning. The Duke of Victory, too, seemed elated at the birth of a granddaughter who resembled his daughter.

And it was something to be elated about. Publicly, the stability of the imperial house had risen. Privately, a precious little granddaughter had entered the world.

"She'll be the fourth Empress, then."

"Most likely."

The Minister nodded in agreement. Since the reign of the Great Emperor Eimanka, no fewer than three empresses had ascended the throne of Kpelleofen. Precedent was abundant; no noble would dare raise a challenge along the lines of "How can a woman sit the throne?"

Besides, two of the five current dukes were women. Opposing female succession under those circumstances was just a roundabout way of announcing one's social suicide.

"Well then—blue-toned silk, and perhaps a small tiara to go with—"

Just as we were wrapping up the discussion, the communication sphere in my breast pocket vibrated.

I felt a flicker of unease. It could have been an ordinary work report or a private message, but a message arriving at this exact moment set every instinct on edge.

"Pardon me a moment."

I asked briefly for leave and checked the new message—and very nearly squeezed my eyes shut on the spot.

That bastard. His daughter had just been born—he ought to have been weeping tears of joy. Why was he summoning some poor subordinate for no good reason?

If heaven existed, it must feel something like this.

"D-do you see, my dear? Even that tiny little one has all her fingers."

At those words, my wife smiled softly and looked at our daughter lying on the bed. I gazed at the child, sound asleep and fidgeting faintly in her dreams.

An angel. An angel who had shed her wings and nestled into our arms. Nothing else could explain that blend of cuteness and grace.

"Do not make such a fuss."

As I stood steeped in perfect happiness, staring at my daughter, Father's low voice made me flinch. I had been so captivated by the child that I had briefly forgotten the Emperor was even there.

"What will you do if you wake the Imperial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Grandchild?"

Looking closer, though, Father's gaze could not tear itself from our daughter either. His expression was as cold as ever—but the rebuke was not about my undignified carrying-on. He was worried about the Imperial Grandchild's sleep.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

Father merely nodded at the formal apology. His eyes remained fixed on the same place.

At that, my wife smiled even more deeply. Had we been alone, she might have laughed outright. Even the Minister of Palace Affairs, who had come with Father, wore a smiling face. Truly, this child's birth was a great blessing upon the imperial house and the Empire.

Knock, knock.

Then came a soft rapping at the door.

My heart lurched. It had been a very small sound, but what if even that woke this angel? If she startled awake in tears, it would tear my chest open.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness. The Audit Department Chief has arrived."

At the report of the captain of the Imperial Knights, my eyes went involuntarily to Father.

I had summoned the Audit Department Chief, yes—but I had expected him after Father had left. I had not intended to put Father and the Audit Department Chief face-to-face like this.

"Let him enter."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Father, too, seemed surprised by the visit; he glanced briefly toward the door, then nodded and granted the Audit Department Chief leave to enter.

"Crown Prince. Did you summon him?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I called him because there is a matter to discuss."

"Is that so."

Father fell silent for a moment, then spoke again.

"Should the Audit Department Chief become the Imperial Grandchild's godfather, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it would be a most reassuring thing."

At words that seemed to read my very heart, I could only bow my head.

As ever, reaching even the tip of Father's toes in his lifetime was impossible for me.

The moment I stepped into the room, I very nearly moonwalked right back out.

You've got to be kidding me.

I had expected the Crown Prince and the Crown Princess, of course—but I had not expected the Emperor and the Minister of Palace Affairs as well. The master of the Empire and the apex of the civil service, both waiting to receive me? Wasn't that combination a little much?

"Long live His Majesty the Emper—"

"Enough. The Imperial Grandchild is sleeping. You may omit it."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

I had been about to fire off a rapid salute to the Emperor, but he shook his head and waved it off.

Was a greeting to the Emperor really something one could simply skip? Then again, the Imperial Grandchild was sleeping, so I understood. The sleep of a precious grandchild would matter more than a formality he had heard to the point of boredom all his life.

"You came at the Crown Prince's summons?"

"I did, Your Majesty."

"Then pay Us no mind. What the imperial house wishes to discuss with the Audit Department Chief is for the Crown Prince to say."

"...Yes, Your Majesty."

I felt the blood drain from my face, but I managed a reply.

Being told not to mind the Emperor standing right in front of me was one thing—but the phrase "what the imperial house wishes to discuss" was far more ominous. This was not a private call from the Crown Prince. This was the will of the imperial house itself.

What is this about?

I spun my thoughts as fast as they would go. Given the place and the timing, it had to concern the Imperial Grandchild—but what, exactly, required summoning me for a discussion?

If they stood me before the Imperial Grandchild and announced something like, "This is the slave you will command," I was fully prepared to cry in earnest. And that was still the most likely possibility. So what in the world was going on?

"Come in, Audit Department Chief. Seeing you on this joyous day makes it all the more welcome."

"You flatter me, Your Highness."

Nothing came to mind, so I simply bowed my head.

"Haha, flatter you? Considering the service the Audit Department Chief has rendered the imperial house, no praise could be excessive."

I bowed my head even lower. What kind of buildup was this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bastard constructing, and to what end?

"All the more so, now that you are to become the Imperial Grandchild's godfather."

"...I beg your pardon?"

The sudden declaration tore a reflexive question from my lips.

What did he just say?

Godfather?

Unless the Crown Prince had lost his mind, he was not talking about a mafia don. He meant a religious godfather, of course.

Me?

A godfather—a guardian appointed in case anything should befall the child's own parents. Given the stature of the Dawn Church in this world, the role carried even more weight here than it had in the world before my transmigration.

Why?

And why, of all people, me...?

Looking at the Crown Prince's smiling face only deepened the confusion.

Now that I looked, everyone else was smiling or wearing an expression of calm contentment as well.

What is this.

Someone please explain this in a way I can understand. What kind of situation am I even in right now?