With a New Heart - 3
It was the end of the year, only a few days left until the New Year's Audience. Ordinarily this was the season for wrapping up a department's work for the year and preparing for the one to come—but for a wanderer who had spent the entire year roaming the countryside, there was precious little to do.
The most I managed was stamping documents beside the Deputy Minister as he drowned in the founding work of the Inspectorate Ministry, and offering a few words of encouragement to the office staff who were keeling over like zombies. Calling me a cheerleading totem would have been more accurate.
Thank the heavens I came up through the field.
I glanced at the coffee cups steadily piling up on the Deputy Minister's desk, then quietly looked away. The sight alone made me sincerely grateful that I had begun my civil service career in the field rather than behind a desk. Had I started as a desk man, I would have been ground into paste just like him.
Of course the Deputy Minister had begun in the field as well, but I decided to forget that for the moment. After all, I was the one who had shoved a field man into a desk job.
That was why I always felt both gratitude and guilt toward him. Let's go the distance together, my friend…
Hm?
Just then the communication orb in my breast pocket vibrated. Someone must have sent a message.
Nothing strange about that. From year's end into the new year was peak season for civil servants exchanging messages. I might have nothing to say to anyone, but someone out there might have something to ask me.
So I checked the orb with a light heart—and froze solid.
I bit my lip at the short, crisp summons. Someone did indeed have something to ask me—I just hadn't expected that someone to be the Emperor.
Does this bastard have nothing better to do? Why does he keep summoning perfectly innocent people at the drop of a hat?
The path to the Solar Hall was peaceful. This time there was no escape attempt by His Grace the Chicken destined for nugget-hood, nor any appearance of the Bremen Town Musicians that the Retired Emperor was so diligently raising.
Strange. Here I was on my way to meet the Emperor inside the Imperial Palace, yet I was worried about running into rampaging animals. How was that even a reasonable concern?
Unfortunately, these days it was. With the Retired Emperor parked above the Emperor, there was nothing to be done about it.
"Long live His Majesty the Emperor. Karl Crassius of Tailglehen, head of House Crassius, presents himself before the exalted sun of the Empire."
I entered the Emperor's office without incident and prostrated myself in greeting the moment I crossed the threshold.
"Ah, you're here. This conversation may run long, so make yourself comfortable first."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
I instinctively furrowed my brow at the words that followed. Being called out of nowhere was already a nuisance; now he was warning me the talk would be lengthy. What on earth was he planning to say?
…What is this?
Only when I raised my head and saw the Emperor's face did I flinch. Gone was the usual faint mockery or the exhaustion of overwork. His expression was utterly blank—no emotion at all, like the Retired Emperor in his reigning days.
So I carefully took a seat on the sofa and watched him in silence. That face only ever appeared when his emotions were tangled, or when he was about to make some insane decision. Neither possibility was particularly welcome.
Things had been quiet for a while, too.
I turned the matter over in my head while the Emperor sat on the raised seat without speaking for a long stretch. The last time I had seen that "I might just kill someone" look was about three years ago, right after the First Prince had been elevated to Crown Prince.
Back then, every time that expression appeared he would order someone dealt with, and I would get worked like a dog. I never imagined I would see that face again.
"…Right. Welcome, Minister. I had something to think over for a moment."
At last the Emperor smiled and opened his mouth.
"How embarrassing. I summoned a guest and then sat here lost in other thoughts."
He even laughed, so I let out a quiet sigh of relief inside. At least it seemed I would not have to resume my old thug duties.
Even so, the Emperor had clearly been on the verge of issuing an "inspection" order. Even if he had changed his mind, that alone was not a good sign.
"How could Your Majesty say such a thing? Even this dull servant knows that Your Majesty constantly frets for the peace of the Empire and its subjects."
"Haha, is that so? As expected, Minister, you understand my heart well."
Fearing another outburst, I offered the most pleasant words I could manage. The Emperor nodded with an even deeper smile.
That oily reaction was actually welcome. Yes, just let it pass naturally like this—
"In truth, I was not thinking of the Empire and its subjects. I was thinking of the Empress Dowager."
This son of a bitch.
The moment the words "Empress Dowager" left his mouth, my fist clenched of its own accord. Of all the words I least wanted to hear, that one had to come out.
Granted, if the Emperor wanted someone dead right now, the Empress Dowager was the only candidate left. He had killed the Second Prince and shattered House Aeshilon, thoroughly erasing every trace of the Second Prince—yet even he had been unable to touch the Empress Dowager.
Disposing of a defeated younger brother whom everyone hated was one thing; killing one's mother, even if only in name, was an act of unfilial piety. Killing one's father's wife was a heavy burden for a son—not for moral reasons, but for reasons of legitimacy. So the Emperor had killed the Empress Dowager by confining her. Unable to end her physically, he had ended her socially.
And now, of all times, he was bringing up the Empress Dowager? When his authority was already solid?
He would only earn himself unnecessary hatred.
Perhaps my confusion showed on my face, because the Emperor lightly shook his head and continued.
"Don't worry. I have no intention of stirring up the imperial family now. Nor do I intend to stain the beginning of my reign with unfilial acts."
"…I am humbled, Your Majesty."
"What is there for the Minister to be humbled about?"
The Emperor gave a short laugh, rose from his seat, and walked toward the window.
"Three years ago you already resolved my greatest grudge, Minister. That is enough. Going any further would bring no benefit."
Having said that, he fell silent again.
I was going insane. He should either not have brought it up at all, or finished the thought properly. Cutting off mid-sentence like this made my heart pound worse than ever. This must be what it felt like to find an unexploded shell in the middle of a city street.
Yet alongside the resentment, pity also rose. The Emperor's greatest grudge might well be the Second Prince rotting in hell, but that did not mean the Empress Dowager had been innocent and pure. After the Second Prince, she had been the next-biggest bastard of them all—and the Emperor had been forced to leave that bastard alive. He still had to honor her as Empress Dowager, mother in name if nothing else.
In terms of my own life, it would be like being forced to keep the previous Audit Department Chief alive. Just thinking about it made my blood reverse course.
"Ah, right. I called you to discuss something, yet I've been saying nothing but strange things."
The Emperor himself seemed to have calmed his reverse-flowing blood already; he turned and looked at me.
"Minister. Have you ever met the young lady of Marquis Barandiga?"
"The young lady of Marquis Barandiga, Your Majesty?"
The unexpected question threw me for a moment, but I quickly dredged up the file from the back of my memory.
"Yes. During the northern campaign, when I negotiated with Marquis Barandiga, I saw the young lady who accompanied him as his escort."
"Excellent."
Looking satisfied, the Emperor nodded, returned to the raised seat, and drew a single sheet of paper from his breast.
"Take this."
"Ah—yes."
After scanning the paper for a few seconds, he casually held it out to me.
It's packed solid.
That was the first thought that struck me as I accepted it. Both sides were crammed with writing, as if the office had run out of paper entirely.
Awkward. If even the Emperor was this frugal, what were the rest of us supposed to do? From now on the Inspectorate Ministry would have to start using the backs of scrap paper—
"It is the list of Ainter's betrothal gifts."
My eyes, which had just begun to travel over the characters, snapped back to the Emperor.
Was he insane? Why was he showing me the list of his own younger brother's betrothal gifts?
"I had already been thinking of matching Ainter with Marquis Barandiga's daughter. Now that I hear you have met the young lady yourself, I feel much more at ease. Put in some effort for me, Minister."
What.
My hand trembled for a moment. This mad bastard—now he wanted to use me as a matchmaker?
This was workload far beyond my authority. What emperor in the world would assign matchmaking duties to the Minister of the Inspectorate? It was a blatant overreach, an order that defied all common sense.
And so I filled my heart with the spirit of a valiant beast. In the face of such an unreasonable command I would firmly—
"Connecting a man and a woman who have never even met will be difficult, of course. So for about a month, do not come to work. Focus solely on this matter."
…
"Leave it to me, Your Majesty. I shall devote myself fully to the prosperity of the imperial house."
At the words that effectively meant a month-long vacation, I cast out the filthy beast's phantom.
From this day forward I was the Old Man Under the Moon. Even if I had to kidnap the two of them with a red thread, I would bind them together.
It is said that any titled noble of the Empire must attend the New Year's Audience. Aside from the border marquises who guard the frontiers, even a duke is bound by this absolute duty.
Naturally I too, as a marquis of the Empire, had been preparing to attend. Preparation amounted to nothing more than assembling an entourage, but still.
Yet now I found myself preparing for something that had never been on the schedule.
"…Count, forgive me, but could you say that again? I seem to have overexerted myself of late; my hearing is not what it was."
— Goodness. You must take care of yourself in this cold weather. Your Lordship is the pillar of the North, after all.
The smiling face of the Count of Wiridia—no, of Tailglehen—on the other end of the communication orb only deepened my confusion. Judging by his reaction, I had heard correctly.
— His Majesty the Emperor desires that Your Lordship's daughter become the companion of His Highness Prince Ainter.
It really was correct. Hearing it a second time changed nothing.
Yet I remained thoroughly confused. Confirming that I had heard aright did nothing to dissolve my bewilderment.
Companion?
He had phrased it rather circuitously, but I understood well enough that "companion" meant husband and wife.
His Highness Prince Ainter?
I also knew that the Emperor had only one younger brother.
But our Shati—married to the Emperor's own blood? Not some distant relative, but his only brother?
Is this a dream?
For a moment the world went white. I almost wondered whether the Count was joking, but he was not the sort of man to make such a joke. Least of all a joke that invoked the imperial family.
I felt tears welling up. The mere knowledge that someone wanted Shati as his wife made all the years of bottled-up frustration threaten to explode. That the someone in question was imperial blood made me want to weep openly.
How long and painful those years had been. How much my insides had burned.
"I have no intention of marrying! I'm going to succeed Father as high priestess, so I must keep my purity!"
"What, did I pick you up from under a rock?! High priests marry and have children too!"
Shati, who had used the priestess's office as an excuse to keep men at bay.
"I have no interest in weak men. I'm going to become the chieftain who leads the tribe—I can't place someone feeble at my side!"
Shati, who had brandished martial strength the moment the priestess shield was pierced.
"Physical strength isn't everything. Intellect and courtesy are forms of strength as well!"
Shati, who had layered yet another shield over the martial one before it could even be broken.
It had driven me mad. Other tribes' daughters settled their fiancés and married before coming of age—so why was mine like this?
In the end I had given up on Shati's marriage. I had resigned myself to thinking she would simply stay by her father's side for life, trading jokes and living in harmony as a dutiful daughter.
No longer.
Heaven must have taken pity on me at last; a being powerful enough to brush her shields aside with ease had appeared.
— Of course marriage is a matter between the parties themselves, and between houses, is it not? If Your Lordship does not wish it—
"I shall bring Shati up to the capital."
My resolute answer made the Count flinch, but I ignored it.
If I let this chance slip, there would be no next one. Instinct told me so.