Chapter 61: The Emperor’s Regret

“With this, I believe I have repaid my debt as well, Your Highness.”

Colin turned his gaze toward Rohan.

“A debt? There’s no debt between us. We’re simply doing what’s best for each other.”

“Well… one way or another, it seems we’ve ended up in a sort of alliance.”

The more ties that bound them, the deeper the relationship grew, and in time, such connections formed a true power base.

Rohan had thrown the snare, and Colin had willingly stepped inside.

No—he hadn’t just entered. He’d performed a great service.

“But tell me, Your Highness. How did you know that I had that item?”

“Didn’t I see it in your office the last time I visited?”

“…!”

That’s right.

Back then, as he was leaving the office, Rohan had suddenly commented, “That’s a beautiful mirror.”

Colin had naturally assumed that Rohan hadn’t known the mirror’s true nature.

It was understandable. After all, the ‘Specula’ was an extremely rare artifact imbued with Elphirian magic.

A mirror capable of communicating with someone over great distances.

It required enough gold dust to cover its surface for a single use, so unless there was an emergency, it was rarely put to use.

Few possessed the mirror, and even fewer knew its identity.

That was only natural—he had secretly and painstakingly acquired it from Silvaren.

“You recognized that mirror?”

“I did.”

“Ah, don’t tell me! Did you learn of it during your visit to Loctercia?”

That was his guess, and Rohan let it stand.

‘Back when I visited Silvaren, I received one as a gift.’

He’d been amazed even then.

Of course, both parties needed to have such a mirror for it to function, but the very existence of such an object was astonishing.

“At any rate, thanks to that mirror, I was able to contact the Duke. I appreciate it.”

“Not at all. It was all because of ‘that condition’ you set forth, Your Highness.”

At his words, William and Count Nidro—who had been squabbling nearby—pricked up their ears.

To be honest, they were curious.

What on earth had Rohan offered as a condition that prompted the great northern nobles to travel all the way to the capital?

“It was an excellent strategy. If I didn’t know better… I’d say, Your Highness, you can see into the future.”

At Colin’s words, Rohan laughed heartily.

In truth, he sometimes wondered what kind of life he’d lead after avenging himself against the Marquis and stopping the war.

“By the way, Count Nidro.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Could I ask you to find someone for me?”

“Someone? Whom do you seek?”

“A woman.”

Count Nidro’s eyes narrowed at Rohan’s reply.

“A woman… Don’t tell me, a secret lover…!”

“Why does your mind always go there, Count? Last time you asked if he had a hidden child somewhere.”

William’s tone was one of disbelief.

“Ahem, well, if there’s something about His Highness’s private life that I don’t know, it’s best I find out early.”

“And what will you do with that information?”

“What about you, then? Why do you care?”

“Ow!”

A resounding smack landed on William’s head.

“Ahem! Your Highness, please give your order. What sort of woman should I be searching for?”

“Her name is Eirene. She’s a woman who wanders from place to place, tending to the sick.”

“Ohh… A wandering healer, then?”

Rohan nodded.

“She’s probably in the capital by now. Her hair is silver, so she should be easy to spot.”

“Understood.”

Count Nidro gave a respectful bow and departed.

“Serve His Highness well, William! And try not to wet yourself when things get rough! Hahaha!”

He couldn’t help but get in one last jab at William.

“You two get along quite well, don’t you?”

“Get along? Me and that old fox of a count?”

At Colin’s words, William pouted as if he’d heard something outrageous.

But even Rohan thought they looked that way.

The old fox, Devon Nidro.

He was not a man who would joke and laugh so freely with anyone.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave now, Your Highness.”

“Thank you for your efforts, staying at the palace instead of the monastery.”

“Oh, it was nothing. It’s been so long since I’ve been to the capital, it feels rather novel. I’ll see you again soon.”

“Of course.”

Colin gave a polite bow and climbed into his carriage.

Just like that.

The meeting, which had been full of words and incidents, seemed to have concluded smoothly.

---

That night.

In the north of the capital stood a stately old mansion, enclosed by black iron bars.

Deep within, an underground chamber had long been in use.

Inside the room were six chairs and a round table, on which a map of the empire was spread out.

“Everyone’s here.”

The Marquis Fabian spoke up.

Beneath his neatly-combed golden-white hair, his stern jaw and tired eyes were visible.

Gathered around him were his direct vassals—nobles who had followed his will for many years.

“Though the proposal was voted down… that doesn’t mean we can simply give in to defeat and do nothing.”

He raised his glass.

The red liquor inside shimmered deeply.

“Just one vote. We lost by a single vote.”

He set the glass down, twisting his lips into a wry smile.

“We never expected the great northern nobles to show up.”

“Why did they come, do you think?”

“I’m curious about that myself, ahem.”

The nobles exchanged glances as they conversed.

“Perhaps His Majesty summoned them?”

“His Majesty, you say.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable theory.

If the proposal passed as is, Crown Prince Elliot would gain more power, and when that happened, the imperial authority would weaken beyond repair.

Naturally, Emperor Beltar would not want that.

“There’s something important I must tell you all.”

“What is it, Marquis?”

All eyes turned to him.

“Word is… His Majesty will not hold the throne for much longer.”

“What?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“There are reports that His Majesty’s health is in grave decline. He may have only a month—three at the most.”

“…!”

“This can’t be…!”

Everyone gasped, holding their breath in shock.

Marquis Fabian placed a hand on the table.

“Isn’t this our opportunity?”

A recent secret report had listed the medicinal ingredients being delivered to the emperor.

When the list was shown to an expert apothecary, the reply was astonishing.

―These are remedies for a fatal wasting disease. Judging by the weekly amounts… the condition seems quite advanced.

The apothecary had said that, with such an illness, one would gradually lose muscle strength and eventually even speech would become difficult.

Like descending a staircase, the health would sharply decline at intervals—making a long life nearly impossible.

“The foundation we’ve built is far from fragile. Running the empire is no great challenge for us.”

At those words, silence fell for a moment before someone spoke.

It was Viscount Berat.

“My lord, are you suggesting we wait for His Majesty to pass away?”

To anyone listening from outside, it would be a shocking statement.

To speak of the emperor’s passing while he still lived—such words could land one in prison for royal defamation, or even lead to execution.

But those gathered here feared nothing.

Most of all, they trusted in the Marquis’s power above all else.

At Berat’s question, the Marquis smiled thinly.

“Doesn’t the current situation trouble you too much to wait for some uncertain day?”

With this incident, the crown prince had gained the trust of the conservatives.

He had no idea how they’d moved the northern nobles, but things were not looking good.

“If we give them more time… it’s no different from letting them strengthen their position.”

“That’s true, but… is there any way other than waiting for His Majesty’s demise?”

The nobles looked at him, puzzled.

“A new order. That is what I intend to create.”

“A new order…?”

“No way.”

Everyone’s eyes widened in shock at the Marquis’s words.

“W-wait, my lord. Are you saying…?”

“Are you plotting treason?”

At the unimaginable proposal, all were thrown into confusion.

What is treason!

Even if it succeeded, it would be hard to win the people’s hearts. If it failed, death would be certain.

“The risk is too great. Besides, His Majesty is still favored by public opinion…”

“Public opinion can always be swayed. Besides, hungry commoners pay little attention to politics.”

The Marquis stabbed his pen into the map on the table.

Crack!

Right at the Imperial Palace.

He slowly rose and began to circle the table.

“That’s why I need you all to join forces. If we prepare in advance, things will go much more smoothly, wouldn’t you agree?”

He returned to his seat, placing both hands on the round table.

A cruel smile spread over his pale face.

“Now… our world is truly about to begin.”

---

“Mmm…”

The emperor’s uneasy groan echoed through the room.

After the council, he had been moved to the deepest treatment room within the imperial palace.

His servants had been told it was simply for ‘fatigue recovery’, but in truth, he was waging a desperate struggle against pain that coursed through his entire body.

Emperor Beltar sat half-reclined on his bed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Sweat beaded on his brow.

“Just a bit longer, Your Majesty. It’ll be over soon.”

“Yes, I understand.”

The emperor’s voice was hoarse and parched.

With every exhale, his side and shoulder trembled faintly.

The wasting disease did not merely sap one’s strength. It slowly withered the muscles—a dreadful, incurable illness at present.

No one was more aware than he of how little time remained to endure it.

Yet he had not given up.

On the contrary, lately he had fought even harder to continue treatment.

The reason he was clinging so desperately.

It was because of late regret.

‘I’ve been too complacent.’

The important things he’d let slip due to his failing health now weighed on his mind.

His beloved Amanda, his youngest daughter Noah sent to the monastery, and…

Left alone, Beltar tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Rohan.”

The fact that, all that time he hadn’t been watching, the boy had never stopped working—it was shocking.

Thanks to him, he’d even managed to overcome the conflict with the Marquis, which he had almost given up on.

If only he’d secured his position a bit better.

If only he hadn’t been swayed, and had established imperial authority more firmly… perhaps things would have turned out differently.

He lamented his youthful mistakes, the time wasted so carelessly in the face of power.

“How could he have predicted everything so accurately?”

He recalled the scene at the council.

The Marquis would push for a vote, the northern nobles would move.

Rohan had foreseen it all.

That was why he had readily agreed when the Marquis suggested the vote.

‘He’s looking much further ahead than I am.’

A remarkable child.

At the thought, a faint smile tugged at the emperor’s lips.

“If it’s that boy…”

Perhaps he really could change this empire.