Refusing the Emperor's Fief
How did our family, which was doing just fine, end up becoming a Founding Contributor house? It was thanks to my father seizing the opportunity in a split-second calculation. A moment's judgment decides everything. That's what they mean when they say life is all about timing.
Now I was the one succeeding my father, leading the family. From this point on, my judgments alone would determine my fate and that of the house.
Does the 8th Prince truly possess the qualities of an emperor? I had no idea. What qualities could you expect from a ten-year-old kid? Sure, there are occasionally those prepared emperors who show exceptional promise from the start. But the 8th Prince? Nothing like that. He was just a ten-year-old boy. He might change once he grows into an adult, but it wasn't certain.
Then, does the 5th Prince have the qualities of an emperor? Yes. He was already overwhelmingly superior in terms of ability. Extraordinary intellect. Quick instincts. Exceptional senses. Bold execution. I remembered my father once praising the 5th Prince to the skies.
The ministers themselves opposed the Founding Emperor's push to install the 8th Prince right away. It was proof that the 5th Prince was the true makings of an emperor.
Now, let's do the math. Which side should I be on? How could a Founding Contributor live well and prosper?
The 8th Prince was too young. The Founding Emperor was old. The 5th Prince was at his absolute peak. If this were an empire with a long history of primogeniture, it might be different. But it had only been six years since the Condor Empire fell and a new heaven rose in its place. No matter how many justifications they piled on, it was undeniably a coup. The empire was still in chaos. It needed a strong second emperor right now.
"Your Majesty."
I'd never once regretted my life up to now. My past life's experience and memories had filled in every gap in this one. I was already remarkable, but now I led a Founding Contributor house. Yet this time, the regret hit me hard.
"I beg your forgiveness, but I humbly request that you withdraw your command to grant me that fief."
If I'd known this world was from a novel in my previous life, I would've devoured every volume obsessively. What a shame. A real shame. Especially since lives were on the line. The weight on my shoulders was far too heavy.
I could understand why my father had passed so early. In front of the family, he'd laughed and said to trust only him. But inside, the fear of being ousted at any moment must have eaten him alive.
"Montebello Family Head. This is insolence. Do you dare claim you cannot accept His Majesty's will?"
But it was fine. As I'd said, I had my previous life as a weapon. If the author had stuck to historical accuracy, I could predict the future. And knowing the future meant I could chart my next moves.
"That's not it at all. How could I not be deeply moved by Your Majesty's boundless benevolence? It's just that I, who has called for a major overhaul of the Finance Ministry, might cause misunderstandings among the imperial citizens if I accept another fief. That's all that concerns me."
The Founding Emperor. The great war hero. What he cherished: honor and the people. So I deliberately mentioned the imperial citizens. At that, he slightly leaned forward from his throne. It meant he was curious why I was refusing to his face.
"Your Majesty. Why not instead designate that land, at least temporarily, as farmland for the refugees?"
"Temporary farmland? Tell me more."
"During the Condor era, corrupt officials engaged in brutal exploitation, turning countless people into refugees. After the Condor fell and Your Majesty's reign began, much has stabilized, but they still don't trust the lords."
The refugees still remembered those harsh taxes vividly. If they returned only to be devoured by the lords again, there was no hope. So they wandered everywhere. It was becoming a social issue. The empire was trying to soothe public sentiment, but it was still a long way off. Six years since the Condor's fall. To them, it was still a short time.
"Lend them that land temporarily for farming. Then give them seventy percent of the proceeds."
"Montebello Family Head. What nonsense is that? Seventy percent? You're not saying take seventy percent in taxes—you're saying give them seventy percent? Have you forgotten the empire already guarantees them fifty percent?"
"I know. I know that the Condor took eighty percent in taxes. That fifty percent is already a huge improvement. I know it all. Because it was my father who achieved it alongside Your Majesty."
They might see me as some young punk in his twenties. But I had a Founding Contributor father, and I myself was a Founding Contributor. I wasn't just riding on my father's coattails. I'd proven myself with real skill and talent, just like them.
"As I said, it's temporary. It's a project to show them the empire is utterly different from the Condor."
"But one fief won't be enough to draw all those refugees back to their homes."
The Founding Emperor zeroed in on a very practical point. A lifetime soldier, he was unyielding.
"At best, a few hundred. Would the Montebello Family Head still choose that?"
"Your Majesty knows as well as anyone: one citizen's voice holds the power of ten soldiers."
Even a war hero like him had been just a soldier at heart. How else could he have ascended to the throne? By winning the people's hearts. And those hearts spoke through their mouths.
"The rumors from the refugees will spread far and wide, and those most sensitive to them will be other refugees. Soon, they'll all be singing praises of the empire and Your Majesty's benevolence."
To the emperor, I offered honor and the people's loyalty.
"Moreover, the empire will stabilize faster once these wanderers return to their homes and lands. It will even positively impact our tax revenues in the long run."
To those around him, I touched on the sensitive issue of taxes. No one could reasonably object to that. Well, almost no one.
That meant objections existed. And in this situation, the ones objecting were predictable.
"It's a noble intent, but some irreverent sorts might resent it if they don't benefit, sparking greater backlash. What then, Montebello Family Head?"
A middle-aged nobleman cleared his throat and stepped forward. He talked of backlash and too few beneficiaries. But I knew exactly why he was speaking up. Kamag Regestice. The current Empress's brother. The man who would soon be the crown prince's uncle—and eventually the emperor's.
His influence was soaring these days. The reason he opposed so vehemently was obvious: he didn't want refugees near his family's lands. He spoke of embracing the citizens with love, but having them right next door was another matter. The emperor's in-laws, perhaps the crown prince's maternal family—refugees beside such a great house? It didn't match their station. But he couldn't say that outright. So he raised another objection instead.
"Of course, that's possible. But stories from those who've experienced it firsthand carry far more weight."
You all know better than anyone how the Founding Emperor became who he is. The great war hero who cared for his men even on the battlefield. The hero who fought to save those suffering under enemy cries. Those tales toppled two centuries of Condor history.
—Shh. The Founding Emperor raised his hand, silencing the ministers.
"Montebello Family Head."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Your intent is most admirable. You refuse even the fief I meant to grant in recognition of your achievements, offering it instead for the people. Truly commendable. Though the previous Montebello Family Head left us too soon, grieving my heart, to have such a son... I am truly fortunate."
"I am deeply honored."
The Founding Emperor glanced around the room and spoke again.
"The motion to grant that fief to the Montebello Family Head is withdrawn. Instead, discuss implementing it as temporary farmland for the refugees, as he suggests."
Coming from the Founding Emperor himself, "discuss" was as good as a command to execute. No one could oppose now.
"We shall obey your imperial decree, Your Majesty."
Not even the Empress's Regestice family.
Good. At least this keeps my name off the kill list for now. I glanced at the 5th Prince and sighed inwardly with relief. Regardless of anything else, I hoped he saw the situation this way: I'd politely refused the Founding Emperor's wish to support the 8th Prince.
That's how I survive. Please. I don't want to be fantasy kill-room guy's number one target!
Whether he knew my inner turmoil or not...
"Ethan, was it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. That you remember even my name fills me with awe."
"Splendid. My late friend, the Montebello Family Head, would be proud."
The Founding Emperor kept heaping on the praise amid it all.
*
The past few days had been agony holding back my boiling rage. Disappointment. Fury. Betrayal. All the emotions churned together.
"How can this be?! We brothers threw ourselves into supporting Father to build this empire, bodies breaking in the process! And now some green kid leaps over all of us for the crown prince seat?!"
"Calm down, little brother. Nothing's set in stone yet. And watch your mouth. We're princes, and Father is now emperor. Call him Your Majesty properly."
The 2nd Prince reprimanded his shouting younger brother in a stern voice. This wasn't the battlefield or their house. It was the imperial palace. Ears were everywhere. Spreading rumors helped no one.
"As always since we were young, we follow His Majesty's will. That's all we need to do."
"You're too carefree, brother. If that kid becomes crown prince—and then emperor—who do you think he'll target first? Us! The nobles will be whispering in his ear every day: 'Eliminate those who threaten imperial authority!'"
"Hey! Even so—!"
"See? Even you can't deny it!"
—Screeech. The sound of a chair scraping made the two princes glance over warily. The one who should feel the most rage and betrayal in this moment. The youngest brother who'd done every dirty job for the founding without complaint.
"The meeting hosted by His Majesty is soon. Brothers, if we're late, we'll be in trouble. Let's go."
I had to endure. Yes. Nothing was decided yet. Acting on impulse was the worst move. Stay calm. With that thought, the 5th Prince headed to the council chamber.
But the Founding Emperor—his father—was resolute.
"Ethan Montebello. I grant you this new fief."
He was pushing this newly risen young Founding Contributor. The fief's location was very close to the Regestices. He meant to make him a political partner for the 8th Prince, Rustone. The current Montebello Family Head was the youngest among the Contributors, after all.
Father. I've done everything for you without hesitation. If you'd chosen my second eldest brother for crown prince, I might understand. But how could you pick the youngest? Aren't you ashamed before our mother, who toiled until her dying breath?
Anger surged again. A cold, freezing rage. But the next voice softened that chill.
"Your Majesty. I beg your forgiveness, but please withdraw your command to grant me the fief."
The young Founding Contributor refusing the decree. Ethan Montebello. And suggesting the land be used as temporary farmland for refugees.
"…."
The 5th Prince looked at Ethan with new eyes. He hadn't noticed before when he kept a low profile, but this man was intriguing. He'd dared refuse the Founding Emperor's will without earning hatred. He'd pinpointed the emperor's love for honor and people, striking there precisely. Now the emperor showed interest in turn, silencing the ministers.
And whether intended or not, he's made the Regestice family uncomfortable.
If this was even a plot with the Regestices, it might be different. Show great benevolence to the refugees now. Use it to boost the 8th Prince's successor score. That would make him a real thorn. But...
Kamag's face says otherwise.
Ethan Montebello. One of two things. Eliminate him quickly before he becomes an enemy. Or...
Win him over to this side, by any means necessary.