Chapter 33
The siblings stared at each other. Not the warmth of spring, nor the heat of summer, nor the clarity of autumn, but the piercingly cold pupils of a winter sky. Like the color of their eyes, they had endured and survived the sky of that cold season with nothing but their bare bodies and each other’s warmth.
“After all, the owner of this empire is His Majesty. Shouldn’t the Empress just stay in the Empress’s Palace instead of wandering around?”
“Yeah, that’s right! What can she even do on her own?”
“We endured all that time—are we really going to collapse over something like this?”
Lenox’s eyes sank darkly.
‘To whoever has, more will be given; and from whoever has not, even what he has will be taken away.’
The two of them smashed head-on this harshest maxim in the world. And even now, they were continuing to smash it with their whole bodies and souls.
“This damn world. Those who have keep getting more and enjoy it as if it were only natural. But what meaning does it have, something they were born clutching like an umbilical cord? Don’t you think?”
A faint madness seeped into Lenox’s face. And Dian easily seized the collar of her madness-soaked brother and whispered at his ear, as if chanting a spell.
“Of course, Brother. It doesn’t matter whether the Empress is a mage or not. In the end, the ones laughing last will be us.”
＊ ＊ ＊
Adele defined destroying the tower alone, without any support, in a single word.
“Recklessness.”
When the tower—the core of magical power—disappeared, the mana that had gone berserk in an instant would gush out all at once.
After committing such recklessness, Adele dragged her body—sinking heavily like water-soaked cotton—and desperately moved her feet, running up to her room inside the palace. She threw herself onto the bed and fell into a deathlike sleep. Her whole body ached as if she had been beaten all over, and she groaned unconsciously. She dimly sensed someone removing her clothes and shoes, but she could not even spare the energy to care.
“Ugh… hngh.”
Madam Gicks looked on with concern at the Empress, who kept twitching and making strange sounds. She placed a hand on her forehead; it didn’t seem like she had a fever, so she set aside her worries and left the room.
What the Empress had done—Madam Gicks soon learned as well. There was no way not to know. The palace was, quite literally, in an uproar.
“They say Her Majesty the Empress destroyed the tower!”
“By herself?”
“Yes! They say she destroyed it alone. The Imperial Guard knights are beside themselves with excitement.”
“Then what about the other mages?”
“They arrived late, apparently? They say they got there after Her Majesty had already destroyed it.”
“They say if it hadn’t been for Her Majesty, the Imperial Guard would have suffered heavy losses.”
Whenever people gathered, they huddled together and whispered. The seasoned former chief steward grasped the situation deftly and intuitively. Her wrinkled eyes flashed. She quietly summoned someone and handed over a letter.
“Deliver this letter to His Grace the Grand Duke immediately.”
“Yes, madam.”
“Go quickly.”
Taking advantage of the still-chaotic situation, her messenger slipped out of the imperial palace without difficulty.
＊ ＊ ＊
At the same time, the Emperor was lost in thought.
A red sky, a black tower. Though the imperial palace had fallen into an instant uproar, he did not lose his composure. He knew that a tower of that level could be dealt with sufficiently.
Even so, since it was within the imperial palace, perhaps he should order its removal at an appropriate time—just as he was thinking this, a most peculiar sensation struck him. The force of the wind weakened, and in the strange gap where the blood-red sky seemed to grow slightly paler, he rose from his seat and opened the window.
And he saw it: the tower burning white and collapsing.
So the mage corps destroyed it, he thought. But the news that followed was completely different from what he had expected.
“…Who did you say destroyed the tower?”
“They say Her Majesty the Empress destroyed it alone.”
For a moment, the Emperor was left speechless, and without realizing it, he stared blankly down at his own hand. It was as if the electric shock he had felt through the hand that had gripped the Empress’s shoulder vividly came back to life.
It seemed that the Dowager Queen of Gotrof had sent proper information only about her daughter’s gender and name.
And for the first time, this question occurred to him. Could it be that the Dowager Queen of Gotrof had sent her daughter off to Ehmont because she had utterly no way of reining her in?
Having finished his thoughts, Karl summoned the shadow who handled confidential matters.
“Go to Gotrof and find out about Princess Adelaide’s past actions.”
＊ ＊ ＊
The next morning, Empress Adelaide—the center of all the talk—shook herself awake. And she issued an order that would once again throw the capital, which had yet to fully settle down, into an uproar.
“I will post a notice to recruit an aide. Eligibility requirements: unmarried men aged twenty or older. Those with fiancées are excluded. Selection will be through interviews, and the number to be chosen is undecided. The selection criterion is—”
“The selection criterion is?”
“Entirely my personal preference.”
Madam Gicks lowered her eyes and smiled enchantingly at the Empress, then bowed respectfully and faithfully carried out her command.
The wave raised by Empress Adelaide crashed head-on into Ehmont’s social circles in less than three hours after the order was issued.
＊ ＊ ＊
The capital’s social scene buzzed at the Empress’s aide recruitment notice.
The mere fact that she was recruiting an aide was newsworthy, but above all, wasn’t the Empress who posted the notice the very striker of tremendous ability who had smashed the tower just yesterday? The nobles all pricked up their ears, straining to grasp the situation.
House Baldur was no exception.
“But what kind of notice is this… is this really all there is?”
As Michael Rosen, the duke’s personal secretary, muttered while flipping the single sheet back and forth, Theseus shrugged.
“If you pile on detailed requirements, it can end up hindering you from getting the person you want. Simpler is better.”
“Still, my lord…”
Theseus rubbed his brow with his hand and set his mouth in a firm line. He was troubled.
“Is Her Majesty trying to make a show of force to His Majesty, or does she want to build an independent power base in opposition to Dian Fuati?”
Theseus lifted his gaze to look at the younger brother sitting across from him. Lionel sat with his arms crossed, staring intently at the notice on the table.
“Lionel.”
When Theseus called to his brother—who had seemed strange since yesterday—those dark blue eyes finally turned.
“What do you think?”
“Well. Isn’t it both?”
“Or perhaps she truly just wants to enjoy herself. She did say the selection criterion was ‘someone she likes.’”
The duke’s secretary interjected. Neither Theseus nor Lionel affirmed or denied it. Theseus stroked his chin and muttered.
“Empress Adelaide. There is far too little information about her.”
“Ah, but did Her Majesty truly destroy the tower by herself?”
At Michael’s question, Lionel nodded.
“Wow, that’s hard to believe. She didn’t look like someone who would belong to a mage corps or a knightly order—any kind of armed group, really. It’s surprising.”
“You can’t judge a mage by appearances alone.”
“Of course, but still. Who would think that an Empress of princessly origin was a mage? No—she could be a mage, sure, but destroying a tower means she has combat experience, doesn’t it? Who could have guessed?”
At that moment, the duke suddenly spoke.
“Anyway, that’s not the important part. Since Her Majesty has posted a notice to recruit an aide, we can’t just sit back and watch. Who would be best to entrust with this matter?”
The gazes of the three men collided in midair.
At present, the ducal house was under attack from the Emperor, and therefore it would be advantageous to send a trustworthy person to respond to the Empress’s aide notice and devise a countermeasure. To do that, they needed to present a suitable figure as an aide candidate—but to whom should they entrust such an important task?
The person to be sent as an aide candidate had to satisfy several conditions.
First, he had to have close ties with House Baldur. Second, he had to be someone who would satisfy Her Majesty the Empress. Third, he had to be capable enough to devise ways to check the Emperor’s power even while serving as an aide. Fourth, in accordance with the conditions set by Her Majesty, he had to be an unmarried man over twenty with no fiancée. And lastly, fifth, he had to be someone who could endure this role.
No matter how one looked at it, the Empress’s aide would have difficulty escaping the rumor of being “the Empress’s lover.” While outright mockery would be rare, it meant that one had to be prepared for a loss of honor. For this fifth reason, historically, the Empress’s aides had usually been the second or third sons of powerful vassal families.
Michael furrowed the bridge of his nose, turning the matter over in his mind.
