Episode 57. The Scent of the Storm
The Grand Conference Room of Essen Palace.
A long table stood at the center. To the left sat the figures of the royalist faction, including the Regent and Rike, while to the right, the nobles of the aristocratic faction led by Count Siler and Count Papen sat in a row.
The seat of honor at the center remained empty.
With Duke Dux absent, Regent Charlotte was technically the highest authority, yet she did not take the seat of honor.
The meeting, which had begun in the early evening, dragged on with exhausting discussions.
“The succession ceremony will be held in the palace hall on the first of next month.”
“It would be better to take time in deciding.”
“What time is needed?”
“In the history of the Empire, there is no precedent for an empress regnant’s ascension. Outside the Empire as well, one cannot find a nation ruled by a queen.”
“Then do you have an alternative? Father’s children are only my younger sister and I.”
To openly demand that the Regent surrender the imperial throne risked being branded a traitor.
Yet those words amounted to just that; Count Papen was beating around the bush to buy time.
Regent Charlotte felt suffocated, her chest pounding in frustration at the noble faction’s reaction.
“What is it that you want! Do you wish to leave the throne empty forever? Or is it simply that you find it unacceptable for my sister and me to inherit?”
“Your Highness the Regent, please calm yourself….”
Unable to watch any longer, Marquess Branter soothed her.
“Stop saying it can’t be done, you don’t like it, or to wait, and present a clear alternative!”
“…Then how about doing it this way?”
Count Siler, who had maintained silence with a sullen expression, opened his mouth for the first time.
Regent Charlotte was so exhausted that she felt she would agree even if he proposed selling the entire Empire.
“Historically, the Empire and the Vittori Theocracy have maintained a close relationship.”
The Vittori Theocracy was a religious state located in the northeast of the Empire.
The Vittori Theocracy, ruled by the Pope, and the Empire, ruled by the Emperor, had recognized each other’s authority and acted as sworn allies throughout their long history.
“If our positions differ so greatly, would it not be better to dispatch an envoy to the Theocracy and ask their opinion on who holds legitimacy to the throne?”
It went without saying.
Legitimacy. The moment the Count uttered that word, the noble faction had no justification.
If the Emperor’s own children lacked legitimacy, then who could possibly possess it?
Moreover, given the conservative nature of the Theocracy, the possibility that they would support the Imperial Princess sisters was extremely high.
It was absurd to suggest borrowing another nation’s opinion to choose the Empire’s new Emperor, but no matter how one looked at it, there was nothing unfavorable to the princesses in it.
Confronted with such overly favorable terms, Regent Charlotte instead suspected Count Siler’s true intentions.
“Those words… are you sincere?”
“Would we have any reason to utter falsehoods to Your Highness the Regent?”
“If the Theocracy supports us, we shall take it as there being no objections and hold the succession ceremony immediately.”
The conversation was unfolding in an unexpected direction.
And all too easily, at that.
Regent Charlotte declared the end of the grand conference with an uneasy feeling.
After all the nobles who had attended the grand conference had departed.
“You’ve worked hard, Hans. Please go back and rest.”
“You have worked hard as well, Princess. Will the two of you also retire for the night?”
“No. I thought I’d have a brief talk with my younger sister in my room.”
“Ah, I see. Then this old man shall take his leave so as not to disturb you.”
After Marquess Branter also exited, the two of them made their way to the Regent’s chambers.
“What do you think of the Count’s proposal from earlier?”
“It’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I can’t understand why the Count would make such a proposal.”
“Could they have already established contact with the Theocracy?”
“That shouldn’t be it. They might have been able to negotiate with one or two figures from the Theocracy, but to request a state-level envoy? To think they could wield influence that far? It’s practically impossible.”
“Then why do you think they made such a proposal, Sister?”
“I don’t… really know either. Count Siler is a man with a sly side to him.”
The moment they had nearly arrived at the Regent’s chambers.
Someone was enduring the cold, waiting in the chimney connected to the room.
“Ugh, when the fuck is the contact coming? I’m gonna freeze to death before I kill the princesses.”
The goblin spat thick curses as he endured the cold.
The weather was growing worse, and shortly afterward, it began to rain.
“Tch, damn it!”
Beneath his feet lay a patrolling soldier, dead with his throat gruesomely torn out.
The goblin severed the dead soldier’s fingers at each joint as he waited solely for the Count’s contact.
“Knock, knock, knock. How far have you come? Knock, knock, knock. How long will you wait? Knock, knock, knock. There’s not much left now~”
At that moment, the communication stone he had been given for contacting the Count vibrated.
“It’s here!”
The goblin tossed the corpse aside in an instant and immediately set to work on his preparations.
He pulled reagents from his waist and mixed them with the prepared low-grade magic stones.
Bubbles boiled up as the color changed; the preparation was complete.
“Heh heh heh heh!”
He was a black mage who specialized in alchemy, specifically handling reagents.
The item he had prepared was a lethal poison.
An extreme poison that would vaporize instantly upon contact with flames, affecting the respiratory system.
The goblin buried his head inside the fireplace chimney and listened carefully to see if voices could be heard from within.
“In any case, until the envoy arrives from the Theocracy, take care of yourselves for a while.”
“If they haven’t made contact with the Theocracy, their goal may simply be to buy time. If they are buying time, it means they are targeting the two of us.”
“Then, Sister.”
“Wouldn’t you also need a mage as a bodyguard?”
“Yes. The Royal Knights will protect you, but even so, they might resort to other methods.”
“That… makes sense.”
Rike thought.
If members of the noble faction targeted the two of them through magic, it was Rike who was more likely to be safe.
She had Sylvia as a guard, and she herself was a mage,
and most decisively, Rike possessed a special talent called the Demonic Eye.
Her special eyes, capable of detecting even the faintest trace of mana.
Even something like the faint mana currently descending through the chimney, for instance.
“The chimney?”
“What is that?”
Charlotte turned her head in the direction her younger sister was looking, but nothing particularly caught her eye.
It was the same view of the room as always.
“What are you talking about?”
A sound of something glass shattering came from the floor of the fireplace.
A powerful wave of mana was felt from the top of the chimney.
It was a fire magic spell cast by the goblin. Only then did Rike realize it was the harbinger of an assault.
“Sister, we have to get out!”
“What? Why?”
Fwoosh!
The moment the Regent finished speaking, flames traveling down the chimney in reverse ignited the fireplace.
At the same time, a pungent gas began to spread.
‘Poison!’
“Sister! You mustn’t breathe!”
Rike grabbed her sister’s hand and ran for the door.
Bang!
She pushed with all her might, but it was firmly blocked by something and would not open.
“It’s blocked, then where should we…!”
In her haste, she tore a strip from her clothes and cast a droplet spell.
In the gaps between breaths while chanting, she inhaled the dispersed poison gas.
Her mind grew dizzy, but she could not afford to collapse right then.
She covered her sister’s mouth with the wet cloth. Pressing another piece to her own mouth, Rike ran with all her might toward the window.
Binaeril, having fallen backward in shock, saw a woman’s face enter his overturned field of vision.
“What are you doing here?”
Green eyes that shone vividly even in the dark hallway.
Lying on the ground, Binaeril managed to recall her name.
“Bibian?”
“Oh, did you say Bibian?”
Bibian smiled at hearing her own name after a long while.
“Ah, I apologize. Lady Bibian.”
“I liked it better just now, though.”
She seemed slightly disappointed.
“What has happened to these people here?”
Bibian asked, looking at the fallen guards.
“W-well! Perhaps they are tired from long hours of duty!”
“Hmm~ really?”
“Of course.”
Binaeril rolled his eyes to avoid her gaze.
He was a man not accustomed to lying.
“Well, fine.”
“But what brings Lady Bibian here?”
“I was out for a stroll. They wouldn’t let me join the meeting since I am not my father.”
“Ah….”
“It’s rare to have a chance to tour Essen Palace slowly. But what luck. To think I’d run into Binaeril like this.”
Bibian smiled temptingly.
Binaeril also forced a smile in return.
But he found Bibian somewhat burdensome.
Her assertiveness from their very first meeting, and the meaningful words she had spoken about liking wanderers.
Given her family and background, she seemed like someone he ought not to get too close to.
Because her father was Rike’s enemy.
“So you were taking a stroll. Then please be careful not to catch a cold. I shall take my leave now….”
She spoke to Binaeril, who was turning his back decisively.
“If you are leaving just like this, may I ask what you were doing in front of the royal treasury? And why have all the guards collapsed?”
“…Where are you strolling to?”
Binaeril decided to compromise with her for a moment.
Crack!
It began to rain.
It had already been quite chilly until just now, but with the downpour, his body temperature dropped rapidly.
Binaeril fastened his indoor outer garment as he listened to Bibian’s chatter.
“My father had a reason for not accepting this invitation.
Strange demonic beasts appeared in one of our territories, so he was dispatched there.
Thanks to that, I was able to see the invitation in advance, and I ran away to the palace behind my father’s back.”
“I see.”
“There must be a limit to how long one can keep such an aging maiden cooped up in a territory, don’t you think? My father is far too overprotective of me.”
“Seeing you, I can understand why.”
“…What do you mean? Are you taking my father’s side?”
“No, I mean… seeing such a… hem… beautiful young lady, I can understand Duke Dux’s feelings as well.”
“…I see. Very well. You pass.”
Her lips curved into a broad smile.
What was good, and what exactly was he passing?
Binaeril wanted to return to his room before the treasury guards woke up and noticed something was amiss.
“It’s getting colder and colder.”
Compared to Binaeril, who was at least wearing a thin outer coat, Bibian wore a dress with her forearms exposed below the elbows, without any outer garment.
Even indoors, it was not appropriate attire for a nighttime stroll.
“It’s a bit cold….”
She stared intently at the thin outer coat Binaeril was wearing, repeatedly saying she was cold.
“Shall we head back then? Ugh, it’s cold.”
“…Are you often told that you’re oblivious?”
“No? I’m usually told I have quick wits?”
“…Liar.”
At that moment, an extremely faint sound caught Binaeril’s sensitive hearing.
‘Crash!’
A sound of something breaking. But it was not the sound of a small bottle that a kitchen maid might drop.
This was like….
‘The sound of a window breaking?’
Binaeril turned his head and tried to guess the direction of the sound.
It was where Rike and the Regent’s chambers were located.
“Just a moment, my lady.”
It might be his imagination, but for some reason he had a foreboding premonition.
“My lady, please take this coat. Put it on and return to your room. I’m sorry, but something has come up that I need to check.”
He urgently removed his thin outer coat and draped it over Bibian’s shoulders.
And then he ran.
To the upper levels of the palace, where the Imperial Princess’s bedroom was located.
“Wait just a moment, …Binaeril!”
Bibian tried to grab the fleeing Binaeril, but unlike before, he did not wait.
Giving up, Bibian unfurled the coat he had given her.
She crumpled it with both hands and brought it to her nose.
……It smelled of the storm.
“Binaeril and the storm… our names are quite similar.”
Bibian donned the coat and decided to return to her room.