Chapter 15
At that moment, a maid announced that the owner of the dress shop had arrived, and Adele and Lady Giggs rose from their seats at the same time. The Empress gently patted Lady Giggs on the shoulder with a courteous smile.
“Handle it wisely, Madam.”
“Please don’t worry. But, Your Majesty—where are you headed?”
The Empress smiled brightly. It was a smile so chilling that even an old woman who had weathered every storm of life might feel her heart go cold.
“If you know your enemy and know yourself, you will never lose. Don’t worry—let’s meet again later. Today, stay in my palace.”
After whispering this with a playful wink, the Empress strode away. Lady Giggs stared, as if enchanted, at the black hair fluttering in the wind for quite some time.
“Madam.”
Lady Giggs only came back to her senses when a maid approached and called her. She let out a small laugh and curled her lips upward.
“Please show me the way.”
“Yes, this way, please.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Adele headed straight for the Emperor’s Palace. It housed the Emperor’s bedchamber as well as the Grand Council Chamber where state affairs were conducted. Compared to the lavish Empress’s Palace, the place felt neat and highly practical.
It seemed the Grand Council was in session; in front of the Emperor’s Palace, groups of people in various official uniforms were gathered here and there. At the sudden appearance of the Empress, they quickly straightened their posture and bowed respectfully. Adele passed lightly through the crowd.
“Is there a council meeting going on?”
When Adele asked as she passed through the main gate, the gatekeeper replied respectfully that there was.
Servants who had heard of the Empress’s visit hurried out to greet her. Adele stated her purpose without preamble.
“I wish to have an audience with His Majesty the Emperor.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. If you would please wait in the reception room, we will inquire with His Majesty and bring you his answer.”
“The reception room?”
“Yes.”
The Empress nodded, then narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if a thought had occurred to her.
“Is there no waiting room by the council chamber?”
“There is, of course, but it is not as comfortable as the reception room we would escort you to.”
“That is fine. I would like to see Ehmonte’s Grand Council Chamber for myself. Take me there.”
She issued the order in a firm tone that brooked no objection, and the attendant had no choice but to comply.
＊ ＊ ＊
Around that time, inside the Grand Council Chamber.
The Emperor, seated at the head with a bored expression, listlessly flipped through the documents before him. Duke Despone, seated to his right, craned his neck and glanced at the papers on the Emperor’s desk. When he couldn’t see the contents clearly, he frowned and turned his gaze away—only to meet the eyes of a man looking at him from across the table.
The man wearing clear spectacles was Theseus Valdir. Head of House Valdir and master of vast lands, he was a young minister of twenty-nine this year. Despite his age, he was widely regarded as the finest Duke Valdir in the family’s history.
When Theseus met Duke Despone’s gaze, he naturally turned his head to look at his younger brother. Where his eyes landed was Lionel Valdir, now twenty-seven.
As the duke’s younger brother, Lionel was a born warrior. He currently held the posts of Commander of the Imperial Guard and Minister of Defense of Ehmonte concurrently. Knights called him “Commander,” while senior ministers addressed him as “Minister of Defense.”
Duke Despone smacked his lips inwardly as he alternated his gaze between the Valdir brothers. How wonderful it would be to have sons like those! Even if not sons, if they at least shared his views, he would have cherished and favored them dearly. Then again, as the sons of the previous Duke Valdir, it was unlikely they would ever think the same as he did.
It was while Duke Despone was lost in such thoughts, staring at the Valdir brothers, that—
“Your Majesty! Please—please send Strikers (offensive mages capable of directly attacking a tower’s core) and Keepers (defensive mages who slow the tower’s growth or its descent to the ground)! Everyone is dying! Even at this very moment, people are dying!”
His reverie was shattered by a man’s desperate cry.
“Tsk. Crying and whining like a child. How noisy.”
Duke Despone turned his head away sharply, irritation plain on his face.
“No matter how much we block them, they keep pouring out endlessly. Now even flying magical beasts are appearing—there is no longer any way to stop them. Unless Strikers and Keepers destroy the tower—”
“Honestly, do you think the rest of us are just sitting around doing nothing?”
Cutting off the tearful plea was Renox Poitiers, seated to Duke Despone’s right.
“Even those whose territories have Grade 1 or 2 towers erected aren’t saying a word, are they? But what’s standing in Count Calvain’s territory is merely a Grade 4—just a Grade 4 tower!”
“Didn’t you say its diameter has grown even larger?! And flying magical beasts have appeared! That’s no longer Grade 4!!”
“It’s written as Grade 4 in the documents—how can you say it’s not?!”
As Renox shouted, veins bulging, Count Calvain swallowed his rage, leapt to his feet, and dropped to his knees before the Emperor.
“Your Majesty!!! Please, save us!!!”
“How utterly selfish, Your Majesty!!! Just throw more knights at it and block the beasts for now, Count Calvain!!”
The kneeling Count Calvain clenched his fists tightly and glared at Renox—when a low voice cut in.
“To call someone selfish for begging when his territory is being turned into a wasteland.”
Renox and Count Calvain turned their gazes to the same spot at once.
“Isn’t that so? A medium-to-large tower spawning flying magical beasts in one’s territory is indeed a disaster. Otherwise, would the lord himself have rushed all the way here to beg? Selfish, you say! Count Poitiers, refrain from remarks that could stir discord.”
Duke Valdir warned Renox. Renox stared blankly for a moment, then snorted. When he openly mocked the duke’s words, several nobles bristled and erupted in protest.
“He is the head of House Valdir! Show proper respect, Count Poitiers!”
“How dare you scoff?!”
As the nobles protested, Renox Poitiers glared savagely, then shrugged his shoulders.
Though of commoner origin, he had secured a countship with succession rights—a testament to his outstanding abilities as a Striker. Still, he was in no position to be compared with Duke Valdir. Yet he behaved arrogantly, relying on Duke Despone and Dian Poitiers backing him.
“What exactly did I say wrong? Isn’t that right, Your Majesty?”
As Renox bowed his head to the Emperor and asked, all eyes in the chamber turned toward him. Karl, who had been observing the situation with his chin propped on his hand, looked at the Valdir brothers, sitting stiff-faced. Both kept their mouths firmly shut, eyes lowered toward the edge of the table.
“I do not believe the deputy commander of the Mage Corps would speak without basis.”
At that, Count Poitiers curled his lips into a smile and bowed again.
“Count Calvain.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I regret what has befallen your territory.”
“Please… please take pity on us, Your Majesty. Even at this very moment, countless subjects of Your Majesty are dying.”
Tears streamed down Count Calvain’s face, dripping steadily as he begged for mercy and soaking his collar. As this happened, Renox Poitiers shook his head and muttered quietly,
“Why ask His Majesty about the loss of my profits, honestly.”
“…What did you just say?!!! Renox Poitiers!!!!”
Count Calvain’s fury erupted, as was only natural. His roar thundered through the chamber, and Renox Poitiers jumped to his feet and shouted back.
“What? Was I wrong?!!”
“What did you say?!”
The council chamber descended into chaos in an instant.
Lionel and Theseus leaned back in their chairs, glaring sharply at Renox, then simultaneously turned their eyes to the Emperor. The Emperor was frowning as he stared at Count Calvain, showing no sign whatsoever of intending to stop the situation.
“Count Poitiers, that’s enough.”
It was Duke Despone, unable to tolerate Renox’s shouting any longer, who stepped in. Renox immediately complied with the restraint.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
In contrast, Count Calvain, his face flushed red, continued to pant and seethe, unable to suppress his indignation. The air in the chamber was like thin ice that could shatter at any moment. A suffocating silence fell.
