A Stroll Through the Imperial Capital (2)
Street vendors hurriedly pressed their stalls flush against the roadside, and the people passing by either vanished indoors or dropped to their knees where they stood.
It made no difference whether they were commoners or nobles, Clea included.
Unless there was a direct vassal relationship between two nobles, one was not superior to the other. Even if their titles differed in rank, that was the rule, at least in principle.
But the Emperor was different.
The one at the apex of every oath of fealty, the ultimate master of all lands beneath the heavens.
Before the ruler of all mankind, everyone had to kneel.
That said, the manner of kneeling varied according to rank.
The highest-ranked king dukes and dukes only placed one knee on the ground. Marquises, frontier marquises, counts, and court counts knelt on both knees but could keep their upper bodies raised, while viscounts and barons had to sit straight down.
Finally, commoners were expected to place their hands on the ground and bow their heads.
“Ellie...!”
Clea, both knees on the ground, chided her friend.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and lower yourself!”
The imperial carriage was passing by; if she stood there upright, she’d be in for a disaster.
Ellie knew that much. She knew exactly what posture she was supposed to take.
Yet for one fleeting instant, she thought it.
She wanted to see the face of the man who was supposedly her father.
She didn’t know whether he would hand over the throne gracefully or whether she would have to wrench it from his hands by force, but for her goal, he was the final obstacle she would one day have to break, the last enemy. What, exactly, did he look like?
No.
Still, she had to endure.
If she had been alone, she might have tried it. Hidden in an alley, or cloaked her form with magic.
But she couldn’t drag her friend into this.
Ellie bowed her body and head low. The earthy smell of the road rushed up to brush her nose, and humiliation made her body tremble.
But if she had to bear it, then bear it she did.
The clip-clop of hooves and the soft roll of carriage wheels drew nearer from one side of the street.
Everyone held their breath.
At last, the sound of the carriage passed Ellie and Clea by and continued on toward the opposite side of the road... except it didn’t.
A man’s voice came from within the carriage.
“Stop for a moment.”
Thirty-something? Late thirties? One thing was certain: it was a smooth, resonant baritone.
Then the carriage came to a halt, soft but unmistakably firm.
The door opened.
And that same velvety voice that had stopped the coachman now turned toward Ellie and Clea.
“You there. Are you of the Lacustrine marquis house?”
Clea, both knees on the ground and her upper body bowed respectfully forward, answered after a beat.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Then Marquis Liari Lacustrine is your mother?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And your name?”
“The name given to me by my mother is Clea.”
“So she named you that. Just like her.”
It was the imperial voice, one ordinary people would never hear in their lifetimes.
The commoners nearby were trembling so hard that the attention wasn’t even on them, and some had already fainted outright.
An existence that could grant a fortune for one well-chosen word or take the life of an entire family for one wrong one.
In their minds, scenes kept flashing back and forth: the Emperor laughing at some joke and bestowing gold, and the Emperor cutting a head from the neck because someone had made the slightest mistake and triggered a bodily function at the wrong time.
No wonder people fainted under the strain of such violently opposite hope and terror.
In truth, it was a sight the Emperor had seen dozens, even hundreds of times before.
And precisely because of that, Ellie stood out.
Even though she looked like a commoner, she simply kept her head bowed in silence.
“Then you beside the Lacustrine young lady—who are you?”
Clea opened her mouth carefully.
“If I may be so bold, may I speak first?”
“Go on.”
“Her name is Ellia, and she is my academy classmate.”
There was a faint warmth in her next words.
“And my friend.”
“Is that so?”
The imperial voice carried a trace of mild curiosity.
“If I’m not mistaken, she looks like a commoner?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Ellia is the first student in the Academy’s history to be admitted through the recommendation of the admissions assessor.”
“Hmm.”
And then—
“Ellia. You too, raise your head and show me your face.”
Even if Ellie had said nothing and kept her head down, the Emperor would not have found that strange in the least.
Ellie herself knew that if she did so, the Emperor would simply take it in stride, Clea would deftly explain that the girl was frightened and overwhelmed, and the Emperor would let it slide with a show of mercy.
To be honest, it was an unexpected situation.
Human beings were creatures who, even when they desperately wanted something, instinctively flinched when it was suddenly thrust right before their eyes.
And yet—
Ellie drew a breath and lifted her head.
Ah.
The very first thought that crossed her mind when she saw the imperial face was simple.
So he really is my father.
The hair, glittering as though dusted with starlight, and the brilliant blue eyes, full of starlight as well, were the same.
Even stripped of color and judged only by their features, the resemblance was unmistakable. Especially to herself now that magic had restored the full beauty of her original face.
She was a peerless beauty, and the Emperor was a handsome man worthy of being her father. The latter was, annoyingly enough, a fact.
“This lowly orphan greets Your Majesty’s countenance.”
Ellie’s voice rang out clearly.
The ruler of all beneath the heavens, apparently unaware that she was his daughter, lifted one eyebrow at Ellie’s appearance.
Well, now.
She was a commoner, yes, but she was speaking before him without excitement or nervousness. It was, if anything, the first time he had ever seen such a thing.
Of course she must have been nervous. And yet those intelligent black eyes remained calm, showing that whatever emotions she felt inside, she had neatly contained them.
“Ellia, was it? Even if you are a commoner, you have no family name?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“And Headmaster Merlina allowed your admission as well?”
“In fact, the Headmaster is one of the people who welcomed me most warmly.”
“Is that so. That relic of a bygone age.”
The Emperor gave a faint hum.
“Then where does your Academy tuition and living expenses come from?”
“At present, the Headmaster is using part of her own funds to support me, so I am ultimately a most undeserving body living by Your Majesty’s grace.”
The Emperor grew even more interested, and impressed. To connect that on the spot with the fact that the Academy was imperial, and say it so naturally.
She’s sharper than more than a few of my ministers.
The Emperor decided to ask one last question.
“Most Academy graduates hope to serve the imperial household. Do you as well?”
“...If I may speak frankly.”
Ellie closed her eyes and bowed her head politely.
“Working in the Imperial Palace is my dream.”
It was not a lie.
It was simply that the place where she intended to work was very different from the one His Majesty had in mind, so while it wasn’t false, it was close enough to be one.
Ellie had lowered her head to hide her face, and keep that fact from being discovered.
“Is that so. How admirable.”
The Emperor spoke casually, then continued.
“Sir Riss.”
The secretary seated across from him answered at once.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I intend to bestow a premium wand upon this girl.”
Clea, rather than Ellie, flinched in surprise. That was because His Majesty had a reputation for being stingy with gifts and grants.
“In that case, I think it would be best to introduce her to a craftsman and have that craftsman bill the imperial household.”
“So be it.”
“Then would Your Majesty place your seal here?”
As the secretary lifted a blank sheet, mana flashed for an instant and transformed it into a fully formed letter of introduction and payment guarantee.
The Emperor placed the tip of his finger on the empty space below it.
At that moment—
Mana surged with a massive tremor, on a scale beyond anything that had happened when the secretary created the document.
It was violent.
As violent as an earthquake that brought down houses and mountains, or a wave that swallowed people whole—after all, even those were only tremors in the end.
But this tremor was controlled to the exact space around the Emperor’s fingertip.
That made it even more frightening.
A person who could cause an earthquake at will was terrifying enough.
But someone who could confine that earthquake to a perfect one-meter square was far more frightening.
Great power, and perfect control over that great power.
For any mage, it was a sight that could rob them of all will to fight.
In fact, Clea beside Ellie went so slack with shock that she collapsed onto the ground, even though she had every right to remain seated with her upper body raised.
“Is it done?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, it is done.”
The secretary rolled up the completed document, now stamped with the Emperor’s seal, tied it with gold thread, and handed it to Ellie.
“This is His Majesty’s gift to you. Receive it with both hands.”
“...”
Ellie looked at the paper.
It was not long. If one were to count the time, it would not even have taken a second.
The Emperor had already withdrawn his gaze from her.
Thus, the look Ellie had cast in that fraction of a second could only be seen by the secretary, Riss.
At first glance, it seemed expressionless.
And yet it was too steady to belong to someone who had merely been startled into silence, with a gaze that somehow even carried the hint of a smile.
“It is an honor beyond measure. I will treasure the wand Your Majesty has granted me and use it well.”
As the girl bowed her head and accepted it properly with both hands, it vanished as if it had been nothing more than a mirage.