Chapter 530: Forced Hand
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 530: Forced Hand
While speaking with Albert, Muen took the opportunity to observe the First Prince closely.
True to the initial impression he’d gathered from afar, even at such close quarters, the First Prince exuded an air of genuine elegance and refinement that could not be faked.
He possessed the same silver hair as Celicia, and their features shared a certain resemblance. However, his eyes lacked the sharp edge of the Second Prince, Andrew, and the cold indifference of Celicia. Instead, a faint smile seemed perpetually fixed at the corners of his mouth.
Despite having just survived an assassination attempt, he showed not a hint of indignation or rage. The calm reflected in his eyes did not appear to be a front.
Based on this preliminary contact alone, Muen could conclude that the rumors were true: this First Prince was far superior to Prince Andrew.
At the very least, his self-control and breadth of mind were things Andrew could never hope to match.
Who would have thought that such a man had been, until recently, the "feeble-minded" prince held in contempt by all factions?
One could only say that fate was truly fickle.
"Now, do you believe my identity?" Muen asked. "If you still have doubts, I can produce other evidence, though it might take some time to verify—and time is something I don't have much of right now."
"There is no need. I already believe you."
Albert smiled as he returned the family crest to Muen. "If I didn't believe you after this, I would be showing far too little trust in my sister. Though we rarely speak, the same blood flows through our veins, after all."
"Thank you for your trust," Muen replied, accepting the crest with a matching smile.
As he spoke, he performed a sleight of hand, producing two steaming teacups on the table. The aroma was exquisite.
"Care for a drink?" Muen invited with a gesture.
Albert’s eyes flickered for a moment, but he didn't hesitate long. He chuckled and took a seat at the table. "Of course. I happen to be thirsty."
"You don't mind me using your tea leaves, I hope?"
"Not at all. Haha, isn't tea meant to be drunk?"
Albert took the cup of black tea, but as his gaze fell upon the cup in front of Muen, he paused.
Muen wasn't drinking tea; he was drinking coffee.
"You're having..."
"Ah, my apologies. I don't drink black tea. This is coffee I brought myself."
Muen tilted his cup toward Albert and took a small, leisurely sip, looking perfectly at ease.
Albert stared at Muen’s currently exquisite face for a moment longer before letting out a soft laugh and beginning to savor his tea with elegant sips.
And so, despite this being their first meeting—and one that had begun with a bit of an "accident"—the two sat together like old friends, seemingly having cast aside all defenses as they conversed.
"I assume Your Highness understands the significance of my visit," Muen said.
"Significance? Forgive my dullness, but I truly don't know why you've come to see me."
Albert shook his head. "As you can see, I am currently a prince with no power and no influence, who doesn't even have many personal guards to his name. Is there any reason for you to go through such immense trouble just to see me?"
"No power or influence? I'm afraid that line only works on children. Isn't your very identity your greatest source of power?"
Muen gave a derisive laugh. "Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Highness."
"Identity can sometimes be a burden. Surely you, who stay by Celicia’s side, understand that better than anyone?"
"Heh, true enough."
Muen set down his coffee. He glanced at the still-unconscious maid, then leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with Albert.
"Then... since there’s no one else here anyway, I’ll ask directly..." Muen’s voice dropped to a low register. "Prince Albert, do you have designs on that seat?"
"That seat?"
"The seat I’m referring to is the only one in this country worth a First Prince fighting for. Could there be any other?"
Muen pushed a cup toward Albert.
On the table, the number of cups had gone from one to two.
But both men knew full well that neither the table nor the tea tray, but rather the highest position in the Empire—that throne—could only support... one.
The throne was vast, large enough to overlook the entire Empire.
But the throne was also tiny, small enough to fit only a single person’s seat.
"..."
A heavy silence fell.
In a room like this, a prolonged gaze between a man and a "woman" should have been awkward, but Muen kept his eyes fixed on Albert, refusing to allow him even the slightest evasion... or a lie.
For the Empire and for Belland at this moment, this was perhaps the most important question—the one countless people were dying to know the answer to.
Regardless of whether this was a preliminary probe, Muen wanted to hear the prince’s true answer directly.
"Sigh, asking me such a troublesome question right from the start... it’s quite distressing," Albert sighed helplessly. "An aggressive young beauty isn't usually well-liked by others."
"My apologies, but I had to ask," Muen said.
Besides, I'm not a young beauty.
"..."
Albert fell silent again, seemingly lost in thought.
Muen did not interrupt. Despite the urgency of the situation, he was exceptionally patient.
After an indeterminate amount of time, the distant, melodious tolling of a bell announced the arrival of midnight.
Albert sighed once more and said, "Actually, it isn't what you think. Whether I want it or not... isn't important."
"Isn't important?" Muen frowned, confused.
"Yes. The storm currently raging in Belland was indeed triggered by us two brothers, but is it really just because of us?"
Albert looked at Muen, his words heavy with meaning. "With a titan like the Campbell family backing you, you should understand this quite clearly."
"..."
Muen lowered his eyelids, watching the ripples in his cup.
Albert was right. The two princes were indeed the source of the storm, but the reason it had become so violent was that countless people and interest groups were fanning the flames. They were adding fuel to the fire in hopes of protecting their interests, gaining power, or eliminating rivals.
The balance and rules the Empire had maintained for decades had finally buckled. How could any faction control the restless desires lurking in their hearts at a time like this?
The Royalist Faction, the Old Nobility, the Inner Council... even the Campbell family could not escape it.
"Your Highness is correct; the current situation involves many parties. But regardless, your attitude and choices can still determine the direction of this storm, can't they?"
"No, you're wrong."
Albert countered with a rare note of firmness in his voice. "I can't decide anything."
"What do you mean...?"
"It's simple."
Albert drained his tea in one gulp and set the cup back down next to Muen’s coffee. The two cups clinked softly.
He tapped the empty cup and said, "Do you think... even if I were to step down voluntarily, my brother would ever let me go?"
"..." Muen’s breath hitched.
Would he?
Recalling Prince Andrew, Muen began to calculate how a man of his character would act.
No matter how he envisioned it, every path led to...
"The answer is no. You didn't argue, so I assume you know exactly what kind of person my brother is. Andrew will never let me live. After all... he isn't the First Prince. He never will be. That is his greatest weakness."
"..."
Albert turned to look at the delicate face of the maid, Lawenny, and gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"See? It's just as I said. I have no choice. From the moment my mind cleared, I was already completely sucked into this vortex. I can only move forward; I cannot retreat. There is no longer any way out."