Chapter 71

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 71

Chapter Title: Palace Intrigues

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―Kletan Empire's Imperial Capital, Crown Prince's Palace.

"Hmm."

Straight, slender fingers flipped through a few sheets of paper before quickly losing interest and letting them drop.

Most of the documents spread across the massive desk received the same treatment and were ignored.

Even at rest, Raiden's unmistakably bored expression exuded an oppressive aura that bore down on anyone nearby.

"Ahem…."

After clearing his throat once, Duke Ludwig bowed deeply once more, his plea earnest.

"Your Highness the Crown Prince, please recall the cavalry dispatched to Salt, even at this late hour."

"What are you talking about, Duke Ludwig?"

There were plenty of reasons, but... would the Crown Prince—who cloaked his dictatorial nature in a veneer of leniency—accept them?

Clenching his stiffened hands, the aged duke began his explanation slowly.

"We have maintained a long-standing friendship with Salt. Until now, neighboring nations cowed by Kletan's might have severed their grain trade with Salt, but the moment signs of invasion appear, they will fear the arrows turning toward them next."

"It's going to happen anyway, isn't it?"

"However, Your Highness…."

Raiden waved a hand dismissively through the air.

His attitude made it clear he was tired of listening, and Duke Ludwig fell silent.

"Duke Ludwig. I haven't done anything yet."

"……."

"What I'm after is the terrified king of Salt surrendering everything on his own. I have no desire to see precious imperial citizens harmed either."

Duke Ludwig didn't believe a word of it.

'To His Highness, the empire's people are nothing more than seeds to fuel his ambitions.'

Even so, he could say no more and had no choice but to withdraw.

Not long after.

The audience chamber doors opened once again.

"Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Highness."

The man who approached with careful steps was none other than Marquis Stefan.

Raiden's icy voice cut down toward the man, who flashed a broad smile through his bushy beard as he paid his respects.

"What is it?"

Had Duke Ludwig's earlier visit soured his mood?

The Crown Prince looked visibly on edge, sharpening Marquis Stefan's smile all the more.

Today, he could not afford to back down.

After years of waiting, his eyes burned with resolve as he faced the Crown Prince.

'I must persuade His Highness the Crown Prince.'

House Stefan was an old, venerable family that had long dealt in luxury goods sold exclusively to nobles—a lineage of 'high-end vendors.'

But lately, their warehouses stood empty, and the vast wealth amassed by their ancestors was running dry…

They had reached a point where the family's coffers alone could no longer revive their crumbling business.

To think the once-unstoppable Marquis Stefan now had to bow before the Crown Prince.

And the root of it all was….

'That damned Duke of Brail!'

Grinding his teeth silently, the marquis straightened his shoulders and met Raiden's gaze. With an expression of utmost pathos, he raised his voice.

"Respected Crown Prince Your Highness, the ventures recently launched by House Brail are shattering the empire's market order!"

At his words, Raiden—who had been resting his chin indifferently—quirked up one corner of his mouth.

"Shattering the market order?"

The spark of interest in his otherwise dry tone reached Marquis Stefan clearly.

Raiden, who had been idly stroking his chin, straightened his slouched posture and fixed the marquis with a direct stare.

"Are you aware that the Empress is personally backing House Brail's business?"

"…I am. My wife even paid a visit to Her Highness the Empress, but she was told it was merely a hobby and to leave it be."

"I'm of the same mind. My mother, who has toiled for my sake all these years, has finally found a new and amusing pastime."

A peculiar silence hung between his clipped words for a moment.

"…As her son, how could I stand in the way of that?"

"……."

"Even if it is a bit grating."

The response seemed casual, devoid of deeper meaning.

But Marquis Stefan seized the hint and his eyes gleamed.

'As I thought—it's bothering His Highness too! Of course he wouldn't let that Duke of Brail slide.'

The bad blood between the Crown Prince and Duke of Brail was no secret to begin with. In the empire, it was common knowledge—even stray dogs knew of it.

That was precisely why Marquis Stefan had turned to the Crown Prince as his last resort.

'Enemies from childhood don't change with age.'

A triumphant smile curled inwardly as Marquis Stefan recalled young Kaian—the emperor's bastard who, despite his low birth, had threatened legitimate heir Raiden's position.

Born to a mere consort yet excelling in every way, the insolent whelp had once put Raiden on shaky ground.

The Empress had banished Kaian to Brail Duchy on the pretext of the consort's death, and to make matters worse, Brail's young heir had died untimely, necessitating a successor for the duke—which upended the entire board…

The 'promising bud' that never even openly clashed had withdrawn of its own accord, leaving nobles skeptical of Raiden's crowning as Crown Prince.

Thus, Raiden harbored deep hatred and resentment for Kaian all along, and all Marquis Stefan had to do was play him right.

Like the lead in a perfectly scripted drama, Marquis Stefan knelt gladly before the Crown Prince.

"Your Highness! This time, our house will spare no effort to restore the market order House Brail has disrupted. Please, trust us!"

"That's troubling."

Indeed, the Crown Prince betrayed a hint of reluctance.

His words said 'troubling,' but his demeanor was utterly relaxed.

Marquis Stefan sensed his opening there.

As the marquis's expression began to loosen in anticipation, Raiden delivered his verdict.

"…For the sake of the greater good, Mother would likely overlook me investing in your house's ventures to that extent."

"Precisely! What Your Highness does is mere 'investment,' not meddling. And Your Highness has no precise knowledge of what I'll do with the funds, correct?"

"Indeed. I simply have faith."

Before Marquis Stefan could even blink, Raiden's voice appended:

"In Marquis Stefan. In your exceptional business acumen."

Why was that?

The instant Marquis Stefan met the Crown Prince's benevolent gaze, a chill raced down his spine.

"…I won't disappoint you, Your Highness."

"I expect as much."

Raiden gazed indulgently at his instinctively replying vassal before promptly turning away.

His eyes gleamed with a cold, glassy sheen.

At long last, the interminable house arrest—and the forced rest order—had ended. It had been nearly a month, tantamount to outright confinement.

The exhaustion had piled up so deeply that the rest period dragged on accordingly.

As a result, the weather outside had shifted past the turning season into the crisp chill of late autumn.

"…Haaah."

It was now late-afternoon tea time.

Sipping warm tea from my tumbler, I let out a sigh and turned my head.

Gazing at the endless cascade of red autumn leaves beyond the terrace railing, I sank into profound contemplation.

'The colder the weather gets, the more people crave things to enjoy indoors….'

Yes, truth be told, a certain something I wanted to create had taken root during my confinement.

But I hesitated to bring it up, lest it spark yet another massive undertaking.

The weight of responsibility from my existing projects already bore down on me heavily enough… I couldn't take on more.

Truthfully, the ducal residence staff might do me in before the pressure crushed me outright?

"Miss, the wind is far too cold. Please come inside."

Just then, Bonita stepped onto the terrace, a thick shawl draped over one arm and a hefty stack of documents in the other.