Does Getting Married End a Civil Servant's Career? - 1

The affair of the radiant cross—an event in which Enen Himself had intervened—did not end as a mere "wedding-day mishap."

The god of the continent's mainstream faith. With the Twilight Cult recently smashed to pieces and the nomads gathered into the Empire's embrace, Enen's prestige had only soared higher. His blessing was more than enough to shake the Empire and the entire continent. In a world where even a common priest's blessing was treated as an honor, no one would dare take the blessing of a god lightly.

And in the middle of that uproar, the Emperor—true to a man whose intellect stood in inverse proportion to his personality—was the first to regain his reason.

"That the dignity of the Imperial House and the Empire now stands firm is truly by the protection of heavenly Enen and the Great Emperors of old. And now He has personally blessed the marriage of a loyal servant who has brought so many blessings upon the Retired Emperor and upon Our person. How could this not be a joyous occasion?"

He first publicly acknowledged Enen's intervention at my wedding, then framed the blessing not as one bestowed upon my marriage alone, but as an extension of the blessings already granted to the Imperial House and the Empire. In short, he advertised that the god was not doting on a mere vassal, but watching over the Imperial House and the Empire themselves.

Of course, if any other monarch had tried the same line, no one would have bought it. Even if it were cast as an extension of imperial blessing, a god making His presence felt at a mere vassal's wedding rather than the monarch's own was hard to justify. It would have been more than enough to start rumors that the vassal was more favored than the sovereign.

But the Emperor had no such worries. The very fact that he reigned as Emperor was itself Enen's blessing. Any other favor, no matter how great, was a frail little affection compared to the Mandate of Heaven granted by the god Himself.

Damn, but that head of his works well.

I let out a short laugh as I recalled the Emperor thrashing desperately through the war of public opinion. Thanks to that bastard's tireless efforts, the aggro that had been focused on me was dispersed. Not a bad outcome at all.

On top of that, Cardinal Lisiuko, who had officiated at the wedding blessed by a god, suddenly rocketed into contention as a leading candidate for the next papacy, and the Holy Kingdom hastily dispatched envoys—one glittering event after another. Needless to say, interest in me cooled somewhat as a result.

Pain really does lessen when you share it.

Thanks to all of that, I was able to enjoy a quiet honeymoon. If things had gone differently, the mansion would have been bursting with guests from the wedding day onward.

"Kaaarl... are you already up...?"

"Ah, sorry. Did I wake you?"

Mar, still half-asleep, murmured the words. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she gave me a soft, drowsy smile. Apparently the jolt of her husband sitting up in the same bed had been enough to wake her.

I had only gotten up for a moment to visit the bathroom, yet I had woken Mar, who had finally fallen asleep only in the small hours. I felt guilty for turning into a husband who disturbed his wife's rest.

I did disturb her quite a lot, though.

I gave a wry smile as I looked down at Mar, who was smiling at me while lying perfectly still in bed, not moving a muscle.

We overdid it.

Ten days from the wedding until today. In that time Mar had spent far more hours doing other things in bed than actually sleeping. The physical toll was so great she now had to lie completely still.

Yet I felt no regret. It had not been something I did for my own pleasure alone. It had been for the happiness of the two of us—and, by extension, for the good of House Krasius.

"The authority of House Krasius is already solid, but the more blood relatives the better."

At the beginning Mar had been the more aggressive one. She had even said such things in the carriage on the way to the wedding hall, after all.

"Ka-Karl? Wait, just a little rest first..."

"You were the one who said we should watch the sun rise, Mar."

No matter how indomitable Mar's spirit might be, she could not overcome my physical capabilities. An obvious fact—one that only Mar herself had failed to grasp.

I gently stroked her hair as I recalled the events of those ten days.

Will our second child be born this year?

Perhaps the first snow would bring them to us.

"Um, Karl."

"Hm?"

Just as I was starting to wonder what name we should give the second child, Mar's faint voice reached me.

"Our first child... might end up with a birthday close to mine."

A smile rose to my lips unbidden.

So she had been thinking along the same lines as me.

Clutching her waist, Mar managed to sit up, and together we left the room. No matter how exhausted her body was, taking every meal in the bedroom simply would not do.

"Master, Madam! You're already awake?"

"Ah, breakfast isn't quite ready yet. Please wait just a little longer."

Not long after, Yuris and Sophia came bursting out as if they had been waiting for us. I was a little startled. Had they been stationed near the door and come running at the sound of us leaving?

"We're the ones who got up early, so there's no need to rush. Tell them that."

"Y-yes!"

I patted Sophia's head as she stood there flustered, and she nodded vigorously. It was not as if the Chef and the cooks had been slacking off and delayed the meal; we had simply come out earlier than usual. Perfectly understandable.

Getting angry now would be like showing up to a restaurant before the reservation time and then complaining that the food was not ready—

"Ah, Madam. If it would not be an imposition, may we assist you?"

Yuris's bright, cheerful words made the hand that had been stroking Sophia's hair freeze in place.

Mar's body was still not fully recovered, yet she was forcing herself to walk upright, insisting she could not show an undignified appearance in front of the servants. And now Yuris had deliberately used the word "assist"? That meant Yuris had judged that Mar could not walk properly on her own.

So they really were nearby.

I swallowed hard without thinking. Of course the girls were old enough to understand such things, but I had known them since they were little, and they were the youngest servants in the household. They still looked like little kids to me. Realizing that even these little ones had noticed how thoroughly we had burned through our honeymoon sent an indescribable wave of shame crashing over me.

When I quietly turned my gaze to the side, I saw Mar's face flushed bright red.

I'm sorry.

I offered a heartfelt apology in my mind, knowing full well what she must be thinking. The idea that every servant in the house knew exactly how heated their honeymoon had been must be driving her crazy.

Sensing my gaze, Mar looked up at me with tearful eyes that held a tiny spark of resentment.

...The fact that I still found her cute even in a situation like this probably meant I was a pretty far-gone bastard myself.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I stamped the final document and let out a long breath. "Final" was a relative term—new piles of paperwork would come flooding in before long—but for this moment at least, it truly was the last. I might as well enjoy it while I could.

I'm going to lose my mind.

Yet the moment my eyes fell on the document I had just stamped, a hollow laugh escaped me.

Yes. That document was the problem. Looking at it made it impossible to enjoy the present. There was a reason I had deliberately left it for last.

Reading the sentence that stood boldly at the top of the page, I finally sighed. The visit of the two cardinals was proof that the miracle which occurred during the wedding of the Minister of the Inspectorate Ministry had turned the Holy Kingdom upside down as well.

It was only natural. Enen, who almost never intervened unless the safety of the continent or the very survival of the faith was at stake, had involved Himself in the wedding of a single mortal. No matter how loudly I, the Emperor, proclaimed it as proof of divine favor toward the Imperial House and the Empire, or as evidence that the Mandate of Heaven remained firm, the Holy Kingdom—as the party directly concerned—could not simply say, "Ah, I see," and move on.

And so the Holy Kingdom had moved both swiftly and with weight. They first dispatched a hastily assembled mission to the Empire—more precisely, to St. Paronas Cathedral—and then put together a true, formal embassy to follow.

Quite the glittering lineup, too.

The central figures of the mission, Cardinal Aldino and Cardinal Alexandriana, were both Prefects who oversaw ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an entire Congregation. Combining the authority of a cardinal with the power of a Prefect made them, for all practical purposes, second only to the Pope. Even Cardinal Lisiuko, the highest-ranking cleric currently in the Empire, ranked below those two within the Church hierarchy.

Or rather—now that he had witnessed a miracle up close, Cardinal Lisiuko might already stand equal to them, or even above them.

...Put the other way around, that meant only a cardinal who had seen a miracle with his own eyes could even begin to match those two.

At least the Pope himself isn't coming. That's something to be thankful for.

The thought made me snort even as I entertained it, but it was true. The Pope had already visited last year for the abdication ceremony; if he hadn't, this would have been an occasion warranting a papal visit. That much was undeniable.

In his place—if one could call it that—they had sent the Prefects of the Congregation for Divine Worship, which handled liturgy and ceremonies, and the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, which ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠handled canonizations.

Would it have been easier if only the Pope had come? No. Absolutely not. If the Pope moved, he would never come alone. This was better.

Damn it all.

I pressed my fingers to my brow and sighed again. Thanks to the Minister of the Inspectorate Ministry's wedding, the authority of the Imperial House and the Empire had risen even higher. But if the price was a brawl with a Holy Kingdom that had completely lost its mind, I was beginning to wonder whether it would have been better if none of it had happened at all.

I resented the Minister. This was not his responsibility, yet I wanted to blame someone. I wanted to pin this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nightmare of a situation on someone else's head.

If only he weren't on his honeymoon...

Even that small hope was denied me. Ordering the Minister to clean this up was impossible; the thick shield called "honeymoon" stood in the way. No matter how dire things became, interfering with a man's honeymoon was simply not done.

"Should I just ignore that and summon him anyway?"

The words slipped out loud before I could stop them. Of course, summoning a bureaucrat who was currently enjoying a private and passionate honeymoon under the pretext of "Go clean this up" was a sure way to turn even the most loyal servant into a traitor. I was not so dense as to fail to understand that.

If the reason for the summons were clearly, objectively beneficial to the Minister, it would be possible. The prospective Deputy Director of Information, who had been resting because of childcare, had been called in without trouble once the pretext of a promotion was attached. Unfortunately, the present matter was unmistakably negative. So I had no choice but to endure.

A superior cleaning up after his subordinate's mess...

A sudden sense of self-loathing washed over me.

Strictly speaking it was Enen's mess rather than the Minister's, but still.

As expected, the Emperor truly was a being blessed by Enen.

If that were not the case, a letter like this would never have arrived.

Saints.

The corner of my mouth twitched. No less a personage than the Prefect of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints had spoken of sainthood. The canonization of the Minister of the Inspectorate Ministry and of Lady Margarethe—no, of the Countess of Tailglehen—might actually be possible.

It was already an honor for the dead to become saints. To become a saint while still alive? By any measure, this was a thoroughly positive reason.

I have no choice but to summon him.

I had intended to let him enjoy his honeymoon if at all possible. Truly regrettable.