How a Romance Fantasy Male Lead Avoids Flags: Private Audience with Emperor Giovanni Arranged on the Spot
Estiang's private audience with Emperor Giovanni was arranged on the spot. In the reception room, the emperor clutched his chest.
"My heart is frail enough as it is."
"……."
What, does the emperor have heart disease or something?
Well, at his age, it's not surprising if he's carrying some illness. If he keeled over from acute myocardial infarction right here, that'd be a disaster. What was good for heart attacks again? Cut down on sodium and cholesterol intake? Should I tell him that?
As Estiang pondered, the emperor shot him a sour glare.
"So, were you trying to chill my blood? If so, grand success, Your Grace."
"I had no such intention."
"You demanded I hand over what belongs to me, requested a private audience, and now you claim no intention?"
"I didn't say 'hand it over' exactly."
"Didn't you act like it was something you'd entrusted to me?"
"Wasn't it entrusted to you?"
"True enough."
The emperor nodded. He seemed to accept it quickly, but then gripped the armrest tightly.
"So, you truly harbor no ambition for this seat?"
"Yes. I've never entertained such disloyal thoughts."
"If the notion ever strikes you later, speak up. Before you come at me with a sword, I'll step aside myself. The throne, the regalia—all yours, just spare my life."
Even when I say I'm not interested in the throne, he goes on like this. Romance fantasy northern grand duke trait: if the main male lead takes the role, he ends up on the throne via rebellion or abdication later. No matter how clichéd it is, I have zero plans for that. Being a grand duke is workload enough—what must being emperor entail? The thought alone makes the throne something I'd decline even if offered. I don't want to drown in overwork and age into a haggard, sickly old man like him.
"I was joking. Surely you're not actually interested?"
"Your Majesty keeps bringing it up, so it's starting to pique my curiosity."
Ouch, behave yourself before I really come at you with a sword.
"Enough. At this rate, you'll draw steel on me for real."
The emperor raised a hand in apology. They weren't close enough for this kind of playful banter—or at least, they hadn't been.
Estiang eyed the emperor steadily. Vassal and liege, yes. Even if his house had always been counted among the loyalists, wasn't this a bit too casually intimate? The last time they'd met was a year ago, when he'd ascended to grand duke—and that had been stiff and formal.
Sensing the gaze, the emperor shrugged.
"It's all over your face, Your Grace."
"What's that?"
"Whether this old fool's lost his mind, acting all clingy and familiar out of nowhere. Isn't that it?"
"I'd never think such disloyal thoughts of Your Majesty."
"You need to learn to manage your expressions first, Your Grace. As a born warrior, you're no match for those sly noble snakes when it comes to lying."
"I never thought you'd gone senile. That's a bit much, isn't it?"
"Honesty is a virtue, but sometimes a white lie is needed. You did wonder why the chumminess, didn't you?"
Estiang shrugged back, mirroring him.
"When do I get my building?"
"How can I hand over a building that isn't even built? Do you think I'd cheat you? I'll give you ample funds for construction when you leave—worry not."
"I am eternally grateful for Your Majesty's grace. As you know, the north is barren, with scant resources, so revenues aren't abundant. Your largesse is like rain in drought."
"By my reckoning, Berg Grand Duchy pulls in over 800,000 ducats annually……."
"Armies consume without producing, do they not? As Your Majesty knows, constantly under monster threat, I maintain over 5,000 troops at all times. It all goes to them."
Deep furrows creased the emperor's brow.
"Perfect timing. What exactly are you pouring all that money into the army for?"
"As Your Majesty knows, the north is constantly exposed to monster threats—"
"Ebbep, can't hear you." But the emperor cut him off sharply.
"Maintaining over 5,000 elites just to smash orcs at the Great Wall? No lies. So you do covet this seat after all?"
How to handle this paranoid emperor. 'Handle' sounds off. How to convince him.
Estiang wiped the smile from his face, turning serious.
"It's the way to break the cycle."
"Break the cycle? What do you mean?"
"Does Your Majesty know what's beyond the vast Great Wall that spans the north?"
"Beyond the Great Wall?"
The sudden question furrowed the emperor's face. After a long frown, dredging memory, he spoke.
"I recall from ancient texts. Vast snowfields and forests, then the massive snow-capped peaks called the roof of the world, no?"
"Just as Your Majesty recalls. Past the wall lie snowfields, then forests, then mountains."
"And our ancestors' mighty Great Wall marks the practical limit. Beyond is eternal permafrost, yes."
"Precisely."
Estiang nodded. What followed was dead serious—no more jokes. Their banter till now had been pure WWE. UFC would've left no room for chitchat with the emperor. Frivolous as it was, the emperor had thrown pointed jabs: interest in the throne? He'd yield it, just spare him. Hearing that from one's sovereign wasn't a good sign. Unless he was truly plotting rebellion and got caught, there was no reason for enmity. But had Belisarius harbored treason to earn Justinian's scrutiny? Did Scipio Africanus crave dictatorship to face rivals' assaults?
Yi Sun-sin? Yuan Chonghuan?
Rabbits kill hunting dogs the world over—it was rulers' basic playbook. In absolute monarchy, crossing the emperor meant death. His past and future actions were plenty suspicious. Relying on the emperor's goodwill felt like tightrope walking. If he hated that, he had to nail it down here, forge mutual accord.
"I want what's beyond it, Your Majesty."
"What do you mean, beyond?"
"For centuries since the empire's founding, my house's ancestors guarded the Great Wall for the realm's peace. Amid relentless monster incursions, barren soil, brutal blizzards—all adversities."
"I pay homage to the Berg grand dukes' multigenerational devotion. Your house is the empire's truest loyalists. Without you and your forebears' sacrifices, we couldn't enjoy this peace."
The emperor matched him—smile gone, voice grave.
"That's why I obsess over forging a strong army."
"Speak. I shall listen."
"We can't just defend forever. It'll be endless attrition, as for centuries. Isn't it time to break that cycle?"
"……."
The emperor fell silent. White beard hid his clamped lips, unopening. Brown eyes bored into Estiang, as if piercing his soul. Estiang met them unflinching. No lies here, no hidden schemes. No reason to look away.
Only after an age, slowly enough to yawn, did the emperor speak.
"Berg Grand Duke, you mean to lead your personally trained host beyond the wall yourself?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Not wait for northern monsters to invade, but march out, eradicate them utterly. Preemptively strike, wipe the seed clean. Is that my understanding?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Precisely."
"Hah."
The emperor let out a hollow laugh.
"I thought you were joking at first. But your face says otherwise."
"As Your Majesty sees."
Estiang nodded. He'd anticipated this. It was like sailing west for a new world. Beyond the wall: northern wilds untouched by man. Lead an army there, end monster threats forever. To this world, it sounded fanciful. But Columbus sailed west relentlessly and found the Americas.
Better to try than not.
He was certain. Fretting eternally over invasions, clinging to the wall. Or, preparations complete, strike back—do or die, a decisive clash. The latter beat anxious dread hands down.
"Can't allow it."
The emperor rubbed wrinkled eyes, then spat it out.
"At this Founding Festival, I secretly hoped you'd catch eyes with some proper nobleman's daughter. Berg house lacks for heirs, no? Marry quick, stabilize succession—avoids trouble. So I thought."
"……."
"Men mature with marriage and family, they say. I hoped you'd settle into reality, not rampage like thunder. That was my expectation."
"I've gone against Your Majesty's wishes. As your vassal, I regret it, but am I not wedded to the state? Berg Grand Duchy is me, and I am it."
"Nonsense."
The emperor dismissed it, then nodded curtly.
"I shouldn't nurse such soft hopes. Arrange a political marriage at once. My youngest daughter's sixteen this year—how's that?"
"……Pardon?"
"Right, better see the face first. If you wish, I'll summon her here. She won't object to you, I reckon. She's picky about looks—might even welcome it."
What. They'd been deep in grave talk moments ago. Estiang stared blankly at the sudden shift.
The emperor thumped his chest impatiently.
"You dullard—this ties us by marriage, gives ironclad legitimacy, no?"
"Pardon? Legitimacy?"
What legitimacy pops up suddenly. I'm lost…….