With a New Heart - 6
This was the first New Year's Audience held after the new emperor's ascension—and after the empire's territory had expanded so dramatically at the same time.
For that reason, the scale and splendor of this year's ceremony were beyond any comparison with last year's. The successive abdication rites and coronation banquets had recently melted the budget away, true enough, but if the New Year's Audience were held on a modest scale, talk of "poor finances" would outrun any praise of a "frugal monarch." There are budgets in this world that simply must never be cut.
"You've arrived, Minister of the Inspectorate? Coming so early already—as expected of someone who has risen so high. Most diligent of you."
But I had no interest in the emperor's face or the empire's budget. All that mattered was dealing with the madman currently launching a dazzling provocation right in front of me.
"And yet the Minister of Finance arrived even earlier than I did. You must not be sleeping much these days."
Even though I quietly tacked on "must be getting old—" under my breath, the minister's smile showed not the slightest crack.
I already knew. No matter what I said, nothing would deal the minister any damage. In the present situation, he was free to thrash me one-sidedly.
Whatever I say, I'll just be his laugh track.
With a bitter feeling I looked at the minister and the Finance Ministry undersecretaries standing behind him. Originally I should have been part of that group—but no longer. I could not join their ranks.
Behind me stood the Far Northern faction members like totems. So long as they were here, I had to stand on the social floor not as a Finance undersecretary under the minister, but as a faction leader guiding great lords. As a faction leader, I could not abandon my members and mingle with another group.
Of course, mixing into the Finance Ministry together with my faction members was also a choice I must not make. If a particular faction appeared close to the Finance Ministry, other nobles would grow jealous in more ways than one.
"It has been a long time, Your Excellency the Marquis. I regretted not being able to properly greet you until now, and I am overjoyed to see you again like this."
"I am well aware of how grueling the minister's duties are. Rather, I—who have nothing to do—should have been the one to call on you first."
Meanwhile the minister exchanged warm greetings with Marquis Barandiga, who stood behind me.
The minister would feel gratitude toward Marquis Barandiga for saddling me with the burden of a faction, and the marquis would hold goodwill toward the minister who oversaw the empire's budget. Thanks to that, even though their relationship was rather distant, they projected a fairly amicable atmosphere.
I have no one on my side.
I felt like I might cry. Not a single person pitied me for bearing the enormous duty and responsibility of a faction leader.
There were plenty who were wary and fearful of me gaining the power of an organization. There was even a lifelong enemy who burst out laughing at my rise from a mere individual to a post where I had to take responsibility.
Yet no one offered me comfort or encouragement. It was truly lamentable.
Still, it seemed there was no law that said a man had to die in loneliness.
"Standing above subordinates as a bureaucrat and standing at the head as a noble are different matters."
Someone appeared who neither avoided nor mocked me, but understood and empathized with my suffering.
"Leading nobles is no easy task. As you well know, Karl, unlike bureaucrats who have clear vertical hierarchies, nobles are a collective tangled with interests and blood ties. No matter how high or low a title may be, commanding every noble with title alone is impossible."
"Your words are most right."
While the Far Northern faction members and the Northern faction members conversed, I nodded repeatedly toward the Duke of Victory, who was offering advice that would become blood and flesh from a quiet corner.
Of course, the Duke of Victory who spoke those words could lead nobles by force of his overwhelming rank as a duke—yet a coercive leader and a leader who advances with his faction members' interests in mind are different creatures. Needless to say, the latter receives the faction's active support and cheers.
"I know full well that you dislike this sort of work, Karl. And it is an undeniable fact that you took charge of the Far North in order to minimize political chaos."
I nearly nodded again without thinking. As a subject I ought to deny it, but every word was so thoroughly correct that I simply could not.
A brief, awkward silence settled—but the Duke of Victory only let out a short laugh, as if he understood perfectly.
"So, since you have taken the burden upon yourself first, His Majesty will actively embrace the Far Northern faction. I will cooperate as much as I can as well—so do not try to endure it alone. Speak up when it becomes hard."
"Yes, Your Grace. I will keep that in mind."
I allowed myself a small smile at those words. He could not dissolve the faction itself, but this was encouragement and comfort—a promise to make things as convenient as possible.
And that encouragement had come from the emperor's own father-in-law, the man who led the Northern faction. Just as the Duke of Victory had pledged, I had every justification to ask for help when things grew difficult.
"Ah—and as your senior in life, Karl, I have one piece of advice."
"I am listening."
Warmth welled up from deep in my chest. He had already given me heartwarming encouragement, and now advice as well? As expected, the Duke of Victory's character was—
"From now on, flaunt your power and show your ambition."
"...Excuse me?"
The words were so unexpected that even to my own ears my voice came out dazed.
I could not help it. If the advice had been to renounce power and restrain desire, I could have taken it in stride—but instead he had demanded the exact opposite. What noble in this world would give another noble advice like that? Anyone overhearing would assume it was a scheme to sink a political rival.
At my reaction the Duke of Victory smiled again and patted my shoulder.
"As a subject, Karl, you are perfect. You never wield power for private ends, and you show a diligent face—so you earned the imperial family's great trust, did you not?"
If he had said great shackles rather than great trust, he would have been right.
"But Karl the faction leader, not His Majesty's subject, must show a different face. Your faction members can only feel secure when they clearly see that the leader they follow is powerful—and when they clearly understand what that leader favors."
The words that followed tangled my thoughts. Because I was a faction leader, I had to show my members a dazzling performance?
"Frugality is a virtue in a private person, but if a chief stays quiet it becomes a problem. You may not understand yet, but the day will come when you do."
"Ah—yes."
"Needless to say, His Majesty will understand your conduct as a faction leader, so do not worry."
I still found it hard to grasp, but I simply nodded. Coming from a man who had lived decades as a duke, the Duke of Victory's words could not be empty.
Flaunting power, is it.
The only problem was that the advice lay impossibly far from my own life, and as a social novice whose noble career was still short, it was thoroughly opaque.
Myself not as a private person, but as a faction leader.
Even so, I repeated the Duke of Victory's words over and over, branding them into my mind. Remembering advice could do no harm.
After joining the Duke of Victory I made no special effort to engage other nobles. The Far Northern and Northern faction members had already fused into a bustling crowd; if another faction joined in as well, the population density would grow far too high.
And so, putting off even meetings with my fathers-in-law, I waited until at last the emperor's New Year address began.
"Nobles who follow the Mandate of Heaven—kneel!"
Hearing the Director of the Imperial Household proclaim the emperor's procession from the dais, I quietly bowed my head. It seemed the vacant post of Minister of Palace Affairs had been filled by the Director of the Imperial Household.
Well—someone of that rank was certainly qualified to be a minister. Even in the days when the Second Prince held sway he had been warm toward the then First Prince, who was now emperor, and once the First Prince became Crown Prince he had joined the Crown Prince's faction at once. A man of ability, good character, and a fine sense for which line to follow.
"Descendant of the Great Emperor Eimanka who, by the grace of Enen, rightly established the Mandate of Heaven—master of Libnoman who safeguards the Mandate, and the rightful and sole Emperor of Crefelofen! Khan of the Great Steppe and King of Tiraf, Groten, Latia, Frunian, and Galan! Duke of Itiruna, Hanten, Naigal, Raum, and Reneu—"
At the ceaseless cascade of the emperor's titles and offices, the corner of my mouth twitched upward. Last year the titles the Retired Emperor had held were at least shared with the then Crown Prince, who was now emperor—but the present emperor had no one to share them with at all. Accordingly, a frankly embarrassing number of titles followed, incomparable to last year.
I live because of you.
I meant it. After looking at the dazzling titles printed on my own name card—Minister of the Inspectorate, Count of Wiridia, Count of Tailglehen—seeing the emperor made a smile rise of its own accord.
The emperor had the makings of a sage king. If an emperor who gives peace of mind to a suffering subject is not a sage king, what is he?
"Raise your heads."
At last the feast of titles and offices that adorned the emperor came to an end, and at his command every noble gathered in the hall lifted their heads.
The New Year address that followed honestly left no impression. It was not particularly important anyway.
Last year's New Year's Audience had proceeded in a state of tension, but successive ceremonies seemed to have built up my tolerance; this time I felt no great emotion. I held only the modest wish that the New Year's Audience would end without any incident.
It even occurred to me that this might be the view the Retired Emperor had once held. This place carried far more of the bother of looking down on so many things than any pride in standing at the summit.
"—As we greet a new year, the imperial family too shall strive ever harder. Therefore I bestow upon my imperial younger brother, Ainter Libnoman, the marquisate of Idrafen, and make him a pillar of the imperial family and the empire. Though it is a non-hereditary title, its treatment shall be no different from that of an ordinary marquis."
Even so I hid those feelings and continued the New Year address. I conveyed the imperial family's position as if nothing were amiss, and conferred the title upon Ainter.
Naturally there was no stir. An emperor's younger brother receiving a non-hereditary marquisate was nothing especially unusual.
So that young lady is Marquis Barandiga's daughter.
Casually surveying the nobles below the dais, I spotted a young lady near the Minister of the Inspectorate.
A somewhat sharp impression; skin I had expected to be sun-browned from nomadic life, yet surprisingly pure white; silver hair set against the imperial family's blond.
Silver hair, is it.
I nearly laughed. I myself had married a silver-haired empress, and now Ainter was set to marry a silver-haired young lady as well. Our brothers seemed to have a deep connection with silver hair.
...Come to think of it, Mother had been silver-haired too. A taste inherited from the Retired Emperor, perhaps?
Her expression is not bad...
Having gone this far, I examined her more carefully. The young lady's expression was unremarkable. She showed no particular sign of discontent or fright—at least not outwardly.
That meant either the minister had carried out my orders perfectly and the marquis's daughter had consented to the marriage, or that even if she harbored dissatisfaction she was not the sort to display it openly.
Of course, either way made no difference. The former was ideal, but given that this was a political marriage I had braced myself for the latter as well.
Well handled.
With that satisfaction I looked toward the minister. In any case, he had successfully completed a mission on which an imperial joy hung.
I should make sure to look after the party concerned as well.
Since the minister had labored for the imperial family, it was only proper that the imperial family labor for the minister in turn.
Yes—lending him St. Paronas Cathedral for his wedding would be best.