Chapter 15: 16

“Not long ago, Hon Louise Dumont entered the palace with the Grand Duchess. The destination seems to be the Azure Pearl Palace.”

Baron Bouilhet, the primary court attendant, in his usual manner, presented the following documents to the Emperor as he added a new report of events. The Emperor was constantly busy handling the post-war work, looked at the register of the commander of the Landrienne territory confiscated from the defeated Shaak lords, and raised his head at Baron Bouilhet’s report. 

“Is that so?”

“According to the rumors floating around, Countess Patrí seems to have found a new companion. I heard that the best guest room in the Azure Pearl Palace will be vacated.”

“Wasn’t it Viscountess Wemmel who had previously occupied the room?”

“As far as I’m aware of.” 

“That’s great courtesy. You mean to tell me she’s upsetting her own sister who’s been by her side for a long time for a new friend?”

“She must believe that the new companion’s worth such treatment.”

“I suppose so.”

The Emperor answered with a faint sneer. The Emperor shook his head briefly as if he was amazed, and turned his attention back to the general’s register. He was contemplating the tax rate and military service to be added to the reclaimed territories and had been buried in the general’s register of records for several days.

Dozens of tax collectors under the Ministry of Finance were also working on the same task, so there was no need for the Emperor to step, but the Emperor, a perfectionist close to being mysophobic, could hardly let go of his work. He was quite a tough master to serve as he was of a fussy nature who could not rest unless he put his hands in it from beginning to end.

“… Shall we make a new list, Your Majesty?”

Countess Patrí’s actions were out of line, but the Emperor’s reaction was not good either. Baron Bouilhet knew that something was wrong when he witnessed the Emperor’s attitude of indifferently listening to and passing it over as if it was no big deal.

It seems that even Countess Patrí had been eliminated from the list of Empress candidates, although it was noted that she had been anxious since the last Trial in the Emperor’s presence. Baron Bouilhet had witnessed a similar situation twice before and carefully asked a question as he looked at the Emperor. 

“No. There’s no need.”

“Your Majesty.”

“After this, I have no intention of bringing in any more concubines. There are already five successors to the throne. In this situation, increasing the number of new competitors is something that should not be done for the sake of future generations.”

The Emperor answered calmly. However, the more indifferent the Emperor was, the more perturbed Baron Bouilhet felt. He was the only one who knew what the Emperor wanted from his three concubines. The Baron was the Emperor’s primary court attendant and at the same time, his younger foster brother, so, he simply could not stay still and watch the Emperor give up like this. 

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Baron Bouilhet worriedly advised. No matter how much he thought about it, it was impossible to simply give up the selection of the Empress like this. 

Although the custom of early marriage was prevalent in the imperial family, the Emperor was exceptionally young and did not marry. The Emperor came to the throne when he was only ten years old, and Empress Mother Éloïse, who served as regent, postponed the appointment of the Empress as far as possible in order to prioritize the discipline of the Emperor as he took on such a heavy responsibility at a young age. The problem was that the now grown-up Emperor was overly intelligent and had clear subjectivity, which led to him setting his own uncompromising standard in choosing an Empress.

What he wanted from his companion was neither of the ordinary standards, love nor a beautiful face. The condition the Emperor put forward was particularly that she must have the capacity to lead the country on his behalf in case of emergency.

Growing up under Empress Mother Éloïse, the Emperor realized how important the Empress’s abilities were, and so, never felt the need to bend his subjectivity, thanks to which he stayed a single father up to this day. It was needless to say how intense such determination was, as it took more than a decade to select and test the qualities of the women who seemed to be promising.

“You’re speaking rashly now. Are you meaning to imply that because you don’t know how important the position of the Empress is? If the Empress is foolish, the country will be doomed.” 

The Baron’s sincere advice was retorted by the Emperor like a joke. The ‘foolish Empress’ referred to by the Emperor was former Empress Bénétin. Although she was an adult who turned out to be his paternal grandmother, the Emperor’s cynicism was relentless.

Empress Bénétin was killed by rioters while fleeing to save her life despite the Crown Prince and his wife’s dissuasion. Baron Bouilhet, knowing how much the Emperor despised his incompetent grandparents, could no longer say anything and remained silent.

“If you really want to me have an Empress by my side, bring a woman who is at least as good as Rodom’s Gwyneth. At the very least she’ll be the only one to step away from the Empress’s chair.”

The Emperor, seeing his loyal younger foster brother’s mood sink gloomily, engrossed in the register of the general again, added nonsense he normally would’ve not said. Baron Bouilhet smiled faintly and shook his head. The Emperor dipped the quill pen in his hand into the ink and raised an eyebrow. 

“Why are you smiling? Does it sound like a joke?”

“No. I’m afraid Your Majesty is actually serious.”

Baron Bouilhet smiled a little and confessed frankly. The Emperor looked at the Baron and shook his head in disbelief.

“Speaking of Rodom, Adelphe visited the palace a while ago.” 

“Adelphe?”

Instead of the Emperor, who cannot go out often, Baron Bouilhet, in charge of liaison with the outside forces, nodded. The Emperor thought for a moment, then clicked his tongue low as he tapped the ink flowing through the nib into the ink bottle.

“It doesn’t bode well that he ran away without showing me his face.”

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“… He said he found some small gangs but hasn’t been able to track down the root yet. It’s difficult to track them down as spies are mainly infiltrating between the slums and the underworld.” 

“What nonsense. Does it make sense that spies from other countries only move around in lower classes? There’s definitely someone whose power extends to the court.”

“That’s right, but it seems difficult to find out about him for the time being.”

Victor Adelphe, known as the owner of the Adelphe Chamber on the outside, was actually the Emperor’s secret right-hand man and the head of a counterintelligence organization hidden beneath the surface. It was during the last Landrienne War that he noticed the presence of spies sent by the Federation of Five Nations.

Noticing that information about the military’s supply situation and movement route was being leaked out of the country, Victor pursued them thinking the opponents were on Shaak’s side, and found out their real identities. 

Surprisingly, they came from the Federation of the Five Nations and not the enemy, Shaak, at the time, and were disguised as merchants when they entered the empire to steal the Empire’s military information back to their home country. Victor, frustrated, immediately wiped out the cellular forces and informed the Emperor, but was unsuccessful in eradicating the entire espionage network that had spread like potato stalks.

“Tell him to hurry. If the spies who have infiltrated the court are not removed as soon as possible, the long-prepared naval reform plan will go up in smoke without even trying. If you plan a strategy in a situation where you can’t block the enemy’s attention, it’s like directly putting food in their mouth.”

“I will send someone else to urge him to rush it.”

“You think that would be enough? Tell him that I will visit sometime soon.” 

Above all, at the terrifying threat, Baron Bouilhet bowed with a bitter smile. He could already imagine the expression Victor would make once he relayed those words.

After making all the necessary reports, Baron Bouilhet checked his watch and informed the Emperor that the time for an audience was approaching. Putting the documents he was reading to one side, the Emperor opened the closed door and allowed the attendants to enter.

The office, which had been quiet for a while, was crowded with countless people again. As the people rushed into the office, Baron Bouilhet took a step back and slipped unnoticed through their gap.

Only a few were aware of how big a role he played in imperial politics. But Baron Bouilhet was content with his current position. 

***

After attending the Marquise Merlin’s Toilette Officielle, Eugène tried to attend as many social events as possible. He had to either accept all incoming invitations or avoid them altogether, but as he was unable to decline the personal invitation of Marquise Merlin, this action made it impossible for him to choose the latter.

In order to avoid the misunderstanding that he had included himself in the faction of Marquise Merlin, Eugène attended parties that were not even in his fate and went around showing his face, doing absolutely nothing else before leaving. He had never loafed around so diligently in his entire life.

Social life in the capital was, in many ways, different from the simple high society of the west coast cities. This was Eugène’s first social season in the capital, Michèle, where he learned about the so-called ‘aristocratic lifestyle’, leading him to experience a huge culture shock wherever he encountered it. 

He didn’t know that the empire was such a wealthy place until he entered the capital’s social circle. As the social season began, parties were held every night in the capital, Michèle.

Even though it was May, the scent of sparkling wine wafted more strongly through the air than the scent of apple blossoms. From every open window of the mansion, a four-beat dance music played by servants with musical instruments flowed out, and the table covered with white tablecloth was overflowing with delicacies that commoners would never have the chance to eat in their lifetime.

Each woman adorned themselves with jewels and silk, and the men, in turn, adorned themselves with such women. Eugène was taken aback when he heard that the price of pearl powder from the East Continent, worn by noblewomen alike, was twice as exorbitant as the yearly wage of first-class seamen.

What surprised him was not the expensive price of pearl powder, but the poor economic sense of the capital nobles who casually paid more than fifteen times the original price. Central merchants were openly exaggerating the prices, but none of the aristocrats took issue with that. It was because of the ridiculous custom of thinking that it was shameful to haggle over the price of an item. 

Eugène had now reached a point where he could distinguish the scent of pearl powder from other scents in the air. If you go to two or three parties a night and dance with many ladies out of curiosity, you will end up with such a useless idea of identification.

“… Are you listening to me, Baron?”

Eugène was lost in thought for a while but came to his senses when he heard a bright voice calling for attention with a smile. The woman he had been talking to a while ago was looking at him with her head tilted slightly. Eugène, realizing where his gaze had been fixed, naturally turned his eyes away and coughed low.

“I apologize. I got distracted by something else for a moment.” 

Truthfully, the ‘something else he got distracted by for a moment’ was the woman’s chest. The woman was wearing a glamorous evening gown in touch with the latest fashion with her breasts half exposed, which Eugène took a look at during the conversation.

Whether it was because of the white pearl powder or whether she was born with it, the woman’s skin was white and clean without any blemishes. Thanks to this, the petal-shaped spots on her pretty chest looked even more conspicuous. The red spots, which could not be completely covered even with heavily tapped pearl powder, were in the shape of somewhat small pansy flowers, and that shape and color were so pretty that it drew attention as if they were petals fallen on white milk.

“Though I don’t know what it was that you were distracted by, I’m still rather disappointed. You’re thinking of something else while talking to a lady. Am I such that unattractive?”

The woman grumbled cutely with a mischievous smile. Even though she was pretending to be sulky, a smile that seemed to melt gently hung from her thinly folded eyes. Eugène smiled awkwardly and turned away from her gaze due to her attitude, which was more coquettish than any other lady he had met so far. 

As he was unaccustomed to dealing with ladies, he used to panic whenever the ladies acted as sweet as sugar cookies. It was twice as difficult to deal with such delicate women as if they would melt in your hand if not treated properly than to engage in hand-to-hand combat with vicious pirates.

“That’s not true, Madame Schuabel. What kind of man could resist Madame’s charms?”

Eugène managed to pick out her name from among the countless names tangled up in his head and spoke politely. She looked askance at him for a second, then unfolded the feather fan she was holding, completely covering the features below her eyes.

“How poor of you to try to appease a woman who has been hurt by such words. I’m disappointed, Baron Amieux. I don’t think I’ll be able to relieve this anger unless I have a glass of cold Salpine champagne.” 

Whispering while pretending to be angry, the movement of the fan, which moved lightly and gently, was sensual enough for anyone to notice. Eugène realized that she had taken pleasure in teasing him. Every single act of the woman was seductive.

“Thank you for overlooking my mistake. I will gladly follow Madame’s wish.”

However, this method of ridiculing one another was also a kind of ‘social conversation’ that nobles aimed for. Eugène had no intention of hurting the woman’s pride as a man, so he got up from his seat, and headed for the table after kissing the back of her hand.

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