Chapter 24
“Ah, yes, understood.”
The attendant, startled, hastily replied, and the maids took him with quick steps out of the room.
Adelle took a sip of the bitter coffee and glared at the paper lying crumpled to one side.
A perfect way to get indigestion after breakfast.
A beast is best caught when it shows weakness. Since she had landed a solid blow yesterday, it seemed today the emperor wanted to finish things off completely.
I never imagined there would be an emperor who would entrust the empress’s palace’s emergency supplementary budget to a concubine. I get to see something truly ridiculous today again.
The amount written was barely worth the price of a single horse. That was all there was for what was labeled the “emergency supplementary budget.”
A moment later, Adelle reviewed the full budget report brought by Madam Gix with a cold gaze.
“What on earth was the amount that was sent over…?”
When Madam Gix tilted her head and asked, Adelle picked up the sheet she had set down and handed it to her entirely.
“Take a look. See for yourself.”
Madam Gix squinted, her presbyopic eyes struggling to focus, stretching her neck out to read the contents. Then she inhaled sharply and looked at the empress.
“Your Majesty, this is—!”
“It’s not even worth the price of a single horse, is it? And not a fine horse—just some common-grade nag.”
Muttering, Adelle took another sip of what was already her third cup of coffee.
With her left hand she slowly flipped through the booklet containing the entire imperial palace budget, checking other allocated funds. Her gaze stopped at one point and wouldn’t budge.
Click. Setting the cup down, Adelle pushed it aside and pulled the booklet toward herself. As she traced a finger along the neatly printed entries, she eventually exhaled, deflating, and leaned deeply back into her chair.
“By my common sense, the amount allotted to the Ivory Palace should be the amount allotted to the Empress’s Palace. Madam Gix, you’ve been in the Ehmont Palace for years—look here.”
When Adelle pushed the booklet toward her, the older woman tilted her head and checked the numbers.
“…It exceeds the amount allocated to the Empress’s Palace.”
Adelle nodded and spoke in an icy tone.
“Call back the attendant who came earlier.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Dian Poitiers nodded calmly as if she had expected this.
“So, you want me to reassess it again?”
“…Y-Yes, Palace Lady.”
The attendant instantly realized he had been caught in a disastrous situation.
Stuck between the empress and the palace lady—he was the perfect scapegoat about to be beaten from both sides. How many stories had he heard about senior attendants losing their lives over taking the wrong errand? How could he escape? Was there even a way? Should he collapse on the spot, maybe wet himself for good measure…?
While he worried miserably, Dian scribbled something down, stamped it, and handed it to him.
“Here. I wonder if Her Majesty will be satisfied with this.”
“A-already?”
“You think that should take half a day?”
Pressed by Dian’s impatience, the attendant quickly accepted the envelope.
“Take it to her now. Understood? Right now.”
“…Yes, understood.”
With a trembling heart, he bowed and turned away. His sweaty hands dampened the envelope, so he quickly tucked it into his chest. His mind was a mess.
If I go back with this so quickly, she’ll say—if you could increase the budget so easily, why did you give so little in the first place? She gave me that ghostly, chilling smile the moment she read it… Is this… even a proper increase?
He shut his eyes tight and forced himself to keep walking.
＊ ＊ ＊
If only the increase had been sufficient and the empress had said, “This will do.” But the poor attendant’s suffering was far from over.
As he expected, the empress was first furious that he returned so quickly. Though the anger was not directed at him, being stuck between battling whales was terrifying enough.
“So arriving this quickly means the authority to approve supplementary budgets lies entirely with the Ivory Palace, is that it?”
Adelle seriously questioned whether the emperor was in his right mind.
And second, she raged about the amount written. The empress mercilessly threw the paper aside and ordered the attendant:
“Go again.”
“…Yes…”
His shoulders drooping, the attendant trudged out of the empress’s palace.
After he left, Adelle ground her teeth, pulled out the Imperial Palace Law Codex, and began searching through it meticulously. Then she paused, tracing a line with her finger, and read it carefully.
“‘Authority related to supplementary budgets belongs to the emperor. However, during the year-end drafting of the next year’s full budget, both the emperor and the empress possess joint approval rights.’”
Meaning: at the initial drafting, she—as empress—could intervene, but once the budget was set, only the emperor could alter it.
“So this means I have to endure this dogshit situation until the end of the year.”
Startled by the vulgarity that slipped out, Madam Gix glanced at the empress.
Adelle narrowed her eyes, deep in thought.
Only now did she understand why generations of empresses and emperors in Ehmont fought viciously, regulating even the shape of chamber pots by law.
But everything has its pros and cons. The patchwork-like palace law was shaped by emperors and empresses trying to strip each other’s authority. In other words, if you take a blow with your right hand, you use the opening to kick your opponent’s thigh with your left foot. Thus, if she used the laws entrusted to the empress wisely, she was sure to find a strategy.
“Good. I’ll find it.”
With eyes blazing, Adelle turned to Palace Law, chapter one.
＊ ＊ ＊
Meanwhile, the pitiful attendant, still being tossed around, bowed before Dian.
“Her Majesty has ordered it redone.”
At this, Dian, who had been fanning herself lazily, let out a dramatic sigh.
“The empress must want to indulge in extravagance. I gave her more than enough. Tsk, tsk, isn’t that so?”
“Yes, Palace Lady.”
A nearby maid quickly chimed in, bowing.
They said the old dog of the former empress had entered service again, and sure enough, Dian had thrown out all the lovely dresses she had selected for the current empress. And it was only recently that they learned the empress hadn’t even worn the crown Dian had chosen for her at the wedding.
Well, none of that mattered. Dian gave a small smile and stood up.
“You’ve done well. You may go.”
“…Pardon? Ah—yes!”
The attendant, despairing at how many more times he would have to shuttle back and forth, was stunned, then fled before she changed her mind.
Dian dismissed everyone except Lorraine. She then put on the plainest dress she owned, wiped off her makeup, and gave Lorraine a secret order.
“Run to His Majesty right now and tell him the empress summoned me over the supplementary budget issue. Say I’m trembling in fear.”
“Huh? But Palace Lady, the empress did not summon you—”
“You fool.”
Dian sharply furrowed her brow and scolded her.
“You think His Majesty will ask outright whether the empress summoned me? Don’t bother thinking about trivial things and do as I say. Go, quickly!”
Lorraine hesitated, then darted out.
“All of them are idiots.”
Dian clicked her tongue and shook her head as she glared at the door.
“Well, having too many smart girls in this palace would be troublesome.”
She took a long, deep breath.
“Now then—shall I go hunt that black beast?”
＊ ＊ ＊
At the same time, in the Empress’s Palace.
Adelle, combing through the codex like a lice inspector, soon found a clue.
“That’s it!”
She clenched both fists like she was channeling strength and gave a short, fierce shout of triumph.
Yes! Oh, truly! Was this arranged for my sake?!
Adelle sent her gratitude—again and again—to the late empress from generations past, whose face she did not know.
The line she rejoiced over was this:
[The sole authority to grant residence qualification in the imperial palace belongs to the empress.]
“So this clause existed.”
Even Madam Gix, who had served as chief palace administrator for many years, had not memorized this raggedy patchwork of laws. Just reading it was frustrating enough to make one sigh.
But for Adelle, it was a ray of light—a pinch of salt.
“But Your Majesty must be careful. Palace law is a double-edged sword. If you intend to wield it, you must be prepared for your own hands to be cut.”
At her concern, Adelle gave a self-mocking chuckle and pointed at the trash bin.
“Look at me—an empress begging the emperor’s mistress for a budget increase. And all I got was the equivalent of a single silver bar. A joke, isn’t it? The emperor used the double-edged sword first. I’m already thoroughly cut by it.”
“…Yes, Your Majesty. I cannot argue.”
