Chapter 57: The Gathering Before the Storm

The longer the Council of State dragged on, the heavier the atmosphere in the chamber became.

“We must carefully calculate the exact finances required to rebuild the defensive line!”

“If we’re going to do it, we should use good materials! Frequent repairs will only be a loss in the long run.”

“Heh, even so, there’s plenty of money needed elsewhere. Did you deposit the imperial funds somewhere for safekeeping?”

Opinions volleyed back and forth, and as expected, the council chamber turned into a battlefield of words.

At first, the nobles sat upright, but as time passed, their posture began to falter.

A few not involved in the agenda propped their chins up and dozed, while others leaned against their chairbacks, eyes half-closed.

And understandably so, for the Council of State had now been running for seven hours.

Everyone was so exhausted they could drop, eating their meals at their seats, unable to finish the endless debate.

“Now... then, this is the last item on the agenda.”

Even the Minister of the Palace’s voice sounded heavy with fatigue, but at the words ‘last item,’ the slouched nobles sat up.

“This agenda, submitted by proxy of Marquis Fabian, concerns the ‘Amendment of the Imperial Succession Law.’ There is a view that the current succession law, based on age and birth order among princes, is outdated, and with the times changing and developing, now is the moment for revision. Marquis, please present your opinion on the matter.”

As the Minister of the Palace raised his hand, Marquis Fabian stood up from his seat.

His steps were firm, his expression overflowing with confidence.

“Your Majesty, and honored representatives of the noble houses of the Empire.”

His voice resounded thunderously throughout the chamber.

“Today, I wish to submit an important proposal for the peace and future of the Empire.”

A quiet silence swept through the nobles.

All waited for his next words.

“Regarding the issue of imperial succession, many have long expressed concern. The current standards are based solely on bloodline and order of birth, and thus fail to reflect the changing times and the will of the people of the Empire.”

He placed one hand on his chest, slowly raising his other hand.

“Now, it is time to also consider the abilities, achievements, and power base of the successor. An emperor lacking a solid support base will, in the end, weaken the foundation of the Empire abroad and fail to unify it at home.”

The nobles began murmuring among themselves.

His words were, in truth, nothing less than touching the reverse scale of the current Emperor, Beltar.

Yet the Marquis pressed on, undaunted.

“Therefore, I believe a new standard that accounts for all these aspects is necessary. Besides, should one inherit the throne simply because of the right age? That makes no sense. The imperial throne is a noble thing and the matter of the Empire’s future. Thus, I propose a complete revision of the imperial succession law.”

No sooner had his words ended than the chamber erupted.

Whispering voices burst forth one after another, a mix of mutters and startled gasps echoing from every seat.

‘So, he’s openly determined to disparage Father.’

Rohan’s eyes turned cold.

The current Emperor lacks a strong support base and has neither ability nor achievements.

That is why he cannot unite the nobles and is dragging the Empire backward.

That, essentially, was what the Marquis was saying.

William, looking surprised, spoke quietly beside Rohan.

“He really is pressing the issue head-on. Even for the fearless Marquis, I wonder if he can handle the consequences.”

Rohan replied with a faint smile.

“Indeed. He seems not to know fear.”

Looking over, Emperor Beltar sat with his lips tightly pressed, fist clenched.

He must also feel, acutely, how his authority had hit rock bottom.

The nobles were already watching one another.

With glances, with whispers, and for some, with scribbled notes.

In this way, opinions were quietly exchanged.

“We cannot change the method of imperial succession, passed down through long tradition, as if flipping one’s hand. Of all matters, especially the question of imperial succession.”

At that moment, someone stood up and shouted.

‘Count Lorance.’

It was Count Lorance, Jenan’s father.

Though he was small and slight, his gaze was sharp and piercing.

“Moreover, considering that the one submitting this agenda is Prince Elliott’s grandfather, questions of fairness are bound to arise.”

“Indeed!”

“I feel the same!”

Conservative nobles began to voice their support.

“Thank you for your opinion, Count Lorance.”

Yet the Marquis’s face remained as composed as ever.

“In that case, I have a suggestion.”

“A suggestion?”

Count Lorance’s brow twitched.

“How about we put this matter to a vote?”

“……!”

“A vote!”

The nobles stared in shock.

Emperor Beltar’s expression also flickered slightly.

Normally, matters at the Council of State are settled after gathering noble opinions, with the final decision made by the Imperial House.

“If we proceed with a fair vote, there will be no further complaints, will there? If everyone truly feels it’s unfair, the result will simply be its rejection.”

Some nodded in agreement with the Marquis, while others anxiously watched the Emperor’s reaction.

The Marquis did not miss the mood.

He bowed his head toward Emperor Beltar.

“I, Kazhin Fabian, await Your Majesty’s wise decision.”

The radical nobles closed their eyes in prayer or clasped their hands earnestly.

Meanwhile, the conservatives snorted in derision.

“Does he think that’s possible? After offending His Majesty just now, he’s asking for a ruling?”

“A vote, really. The Council of State’s matters are decided by His Majesty and the Imperial House, after all.”

A moment later.

Beltar quietly raised his hand.

“The Marquis’s proposal is indeed a grave matter, concerning the very foundation of the Empire. Therefore...”

He gave a small cough, then continued.

“I will accept the Marquis’s proposal. Normally, the Imperial House would make the decision alone, but as you said, deciding by majority vote seems acceptable.”

“……!”

“…….”

“Y-Your Majesty!”

No sooner had Beltar finished speaking than the conservative nobles shot to their feet.

“Wh-what do you mean by this, Your Majesty!”

“You cannot, Your Majesty! This is a challenge to Your mighty imperial authority!”

Count Lorance, too, shouted, his face stricken.

“The decision is final. One week from now, there will be a vote on this matter. With that, the Council of State is adjourned.”

Without hesitation, the Emperor departed.

The nobles began to mill about, conversing in grave tones.

And in their midst,

Marquis Fabian wore a triumphant smile.



---



After the Council of State, the corridor outside the chamber still buzzed with noise.

Rohan was leaving the chamber with William, who was tidying up.

At that moment, an elderly gentleman approached.

With neatly combed silver hair, it was none other than Count Nidro.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

When Rohan turned, Count Nidro bowed lightly.

“Count.”

“May I borrow a moment of your time?”

Rohan nodded, and they moved to the terrace beside the corridor.

“This matter unfolded exactly as you predicted, Your Highness. This old man was truly surprised.”

Count Nidro spoke calmly, but surprise was clearly visible in his eyes.

“How did you know? That the Marquis would propose a majority vote?”

“I considered what he might do.”

Rohan tapped his fingers lightly on the terrace railing.

“And the Marquis I know would bring forth the strategy most likely to ensure victory.”

In his previous life, Rohan had known him better than anyone.

Not in a good way, but being close had taught him much.

“If the revision had been left to the Imperial House alone, he knew the chances of passing it were slim. So he’d use his greatest strength.”

“Hah.”

Count Nidro nodded, realization dawning.

“The conservatives are in an uproar, as His Majesty so readily agreed.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Rohan smiled and looked at the Count.

“That’s why I requested our meeting the other day.”

“Hrmph. This old man feels a heavy burden on his shoulders.”

“As long as they don’t give up, that’s enough.”

Rohan’s gaze shifted toward the main chamber lobby.

There, conservative nobles, faces stricken, were making fervent speeches.

“As long as they’re determined to fight to the end, this may be the chance to turn the tables.”

Rohan’s face brimmed with confidence.

Which only made Count Nidro more puzzled.

“But if it’s put to a majority vote, we’re at a disadvantage. Even if this incident unites our forces for a while...”

Worry deepened the lines on his face.

“If the amendment passes, our power could scatter to the winds.”

Excluding neutral nobles and those not involved in politics, the conservatives were at a numerical disadvantage.

“I will keep your advice in mind, Count. But before that.”

A smile curled on Rohan’s lips.

“There’s somewhere I want you to accompany me. Come to the Boronia Palace tomorrow morning.”

The Council of State was over, but the real battle was just beginning.



---



The next morning.

The training ground was thick with the mingled scent of sweat and dust.

Under the morning sun, the soldiers finished their drills, their sweat sparkling, and the shouts and clashing of weapons gradually faded.

When Rohan arrived, the soldiers were catching their breath and doing their final stretches.

“Martin.”

At the soft, low call, Martin turned his head.

“Your Highness, you’re here?”

Sweat from his brow traced down his jaw.

“Let’s eat.”

The two made their way to the corridor beside the training ground.

At the end, a table prepared by Rohan was set with a simple meal.

The aroma of freshly baked bread and steaming soup wafted invitingly.

“How is training these days?”

At Rohan’s question, Martin gave a small smile.

“It’s going well. The knights are more focused, and their skill with weapons is improving day by day.”

He ate a spoonful of soup, sitting quietly as if waiting for more questions.

“And the results of your training with Retina?”

At that, Martin’s hand paused slightly, then slowly lowered his spoon.

“Still making progress.”

A short reply.

But on his face was the calm satisfaction that only comes to one who has achieved something.

Rohan watched him and slowly smiled.

‘He’s done it.’

One glance was enough to know.

Martin wasn’t the sort to boast, even after accomplishing something.

‘Still making progress’ was his modest way of speaking.

As the meal drew to a close, William came running over.

“Your Highness, Count Nidro has arrived!”

“Is that so?”

Rohan grabbed his coat and stood.

“Martin, we’re going out today.”

“I’ll prepare at once.”

The knight who obeyed without a word.

Martin was truly steadfast.

At the palace entrance, Count Nidro greeted them with proper decorum.

“Your Highness, Devon Nidro at your command. As you ordered, I am here.”

“Thank you for coming so early, Count.”

Rohan asked with a small smile.

“Are the goods prepared?”

“Of course. However...”

Count Nidro scratched his cheek.

“I’ve never had to prepare such things before...”

Beside him, porters had stacked piles of goods.

“I’ve never even bought these for my grandchildren. Baby items, for infants—ha ha ha.”

“They’re all necessary. Thank you.”

“I can’t help but wonder what sort of place requires such things.”

Curiosity blazed in the Count’s eyes.

“We’re going to Elyseon.”

“Elyseon... you mean the convalescent monastery?”

William, overhearing, loaded the goods into the carriage.

If he knew who was there, he’d faint from shock, he muttered to himself.

“All loaded!”

At William’s knock on the carriage, Rohan nodded.

“Let’s depart.”

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