CSTB Chapter 21

Chapter 21 

At that moment.

“Is anyone in there? I came to get some onions—we’re short on them.”

Someone banged loudly on the door from outside.

The two, startled and disheveled, hurriedly straightened their clothes. Mr. Andrew ducked behind the sacks of flour while Mrs. Green approached the storage room door.

[Lady Roze?]

Oliver whispered urgently that they should run away quickly, but Roze couldn’t move from there.

‘Goodbye, my human self.’

Why she had wanted to see more, she didn’t know—but a crushing wave of reality hit her hard.

Conference room.
Noah had been summoned, the nobles saying they had something urgent to discuss. He could only frown at what they brought up.

“We fully understand Your Majesty’s intentions, and we are prepared to follow your will. However, none of us know how long this famine will last. So, what we propose is that of the military expenses we currently cover—if the Imperial Family could shoulder two-tenths out of five, it would ease the burden.”

After a heavy silence, it was Marquis Dwelli who finally spoke, and soon other nobles chimed in, echoing his opinion.

“To follow Your Majesty’s will, such an adjustment seems necessary.”
“I agree. We cannot be the only ones bearing all the suffering.”

They had spent days meeting without Noah, supposedly wracking their brains together, yet this was the best they could come up with.

For years, the rains had failed.

The sight of golden wheat ripening across the vast plains had grown rare, and each winter reports poured in of people starving to death.

That was why Noah had brought forth a tax reform plan—meant to save lives that were otherwise being wasted.

At present, every imperial citizen paid a flat tax each quarter: 10 Krvat per adult, 5 Krvat for children and the elderly.

When harvests were plentiful, even after paying rent to their lords, they could still manage the amount.

But now, things were different.

So Noah intended to replace the flat rate system with a graded tax, calculated according to quarterly income.

“Already, the finances of our territories have dwindled, and maintaining the military has been difficult.”
“Count Dilton, you too? It’s the same for us. We even had to cut our winter supplies by a third.”

And in opposition to Noah’s plan, the nobles had come with this proposal—

To reduce the costs of the troops stationed in their lands. And to have the Imperial Family make up the difference.

The people of the empire paid taxes to their local lords.

Three-tenths of that went into the nobles’ pockets as administrative fees, and the remaining seven-tenths flowed into the Imperial treasury.

Naturally, if tax collection decreased, the Imperial finances—having no other source of income—were hit the hardest.

And yet now they wanted the palace to cover more of their military expenses…

“You cut soldiers’ supplies in this bitter cold?”
“We had no choice. In recent years, tenant rents have dropped to miserable levels…”

It was nothing more than blackmail—withdraw your reform plan if you want the same comforts they enjoyed.

“Do you all share the same opinion?”

Noah swept his gaze across the nobles, who avoided his eyes.

The citizens of the empire grew thinner day by day, while these men grew fatter every time he saw them.

Because no matter the drought, the nobles’ profits from trade and mining only increased each year.

And still they begrudged the slight reduction in their taxes.

How much fuller must their bellies be before they were satisfied? The fact that Noah’s reform would allow the people of their domains a chance at survival didn’t concern them at all.

If he opened his mouth now, harsh words would burst out first. So Noah fell silent for a moment.

And then, as others kept talking, Duke Raymond—who had been quietly observing—finally stepped in.

“That is enough, gentlemen. I’m sure His Majesty has understood our intentions quite well.”

Noah narrowed his eyes, turning his gaze toward the Duke’s affable smile.

Always stepping in when the decisive blow was needed—what a cunning creature.

If Noah had been a man who could, like Melissa, order a person’s death without blinking, Duke Raymond would have been the first he eliminated upon taking the throne.

Though Melissa would surely have opposed it.

“Your Majesty, if you would speak.”

Speak?

Unless Noah gave them the answer they wanted, they would keep repeating themselves like a broken record.

How long was he supposed to watch them run amok?

As his chest tightened, Noah’s hand instinctively touched his knee—and the image of Roze from yesterday came to mind.

—Haaaaaah! Uooooooong!

Even in her small body, she had fought with everything she had.

“Jonathan.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”

If he yielded again today, he’d have no face left to show Roze.

So Noah decided he would hear no more of their threats.

Let Melissa rush in. Let the Duke press him without changing expression. It no longer mattered.

For two full years, he had tolerated them—for the mere reason that they had once stood at his side.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten, but…

The emperor of this empire was Noah.

“Though called imperial soldiers, in reality they maintain order within the territories, do they not?”
“That is correct.”

Noah confirmed with Jonathan what he already knew.

“Then it isn’t fair, is it?”
“Your Majesty, what do you mean?”
“The treasury bears the cost, yet the territories reap the benefit. That’s hardly fair.”

Why suddenly bring up territorial security now?

The nobles, failing to grasp the situation, fell silent. But among them, one man’s face stiffened ever so slightly, as though sensing danger.

It was Duke Raymond.

Proving that the title of duke—surviving the bloodbaths of the past—was not mere luck. He was quick to sense, quick to act.

The Duke rose, clearly trying to close the meeting, but Noah had no intention of giving the nobles time to regroup.

“Who said I needed time?”
“Your Majesty—”
“Starting next month, the Imperial contribution to the military will be reduced from five-tenths to three.”
“Your Majesty!”
“Wha—! How could you—”

The nobles burst out in protest, but Noah dismissed them without a flicker of concern.

It was they who had first weighed taxes against military funding, beginning the threats.

“If supplies fail because of it, that too will not be tolerated.”
“Your Majesty, what we meant was—”
“If you dislike it, then withdraw your troops from your lands. This meeting is over. The tax reform will be proclaimed as an imperial decree, and if you value your lives, you will obey.”

As the nobles leapt from their seats, trying to dissuade him, Noah strolled calmly out of the chamber.

“I have every desire to praise Your Majesty for such a fine decision. But do you think they will obey so meekly? And making enemies of the nobility like this…I cannot recommend it.”

Jonathan, who had followed him out of the now uproarious chamber, voiced his concern.

But Noah only replied coolly:

“It doesn’t matter. An imperial decree is an imperial decree. Even if they dislike it, they’ll follow it—unless they want to die.”

Jonathan held his tongue, trailing after him.

If a clash with the nobility was unavoidable, then Noah could only hope the people of the empire would at least recognize his efforts.

Having recovered from her crushing despair, Roze returned to the bedroom. She desperately wanted to search for evidence, but lunchtime was already near.

She had no idea how long the search might take—and if she were caught again, it would only cause greater trouble.

Better to pretend she had stayed quietly in her room, and slip out again after lunch.

So she returned but then thought—

‘Wait… how did I even get in here earlier?’

Though she hadn’t eaten anything, somehow her body felt swollen, and she got stuck between the dresser and the wall.

Oliver pushed hard from behind, trying to help, but it was no use.

In the end, with blood no longer flowing properly, Roze could only wail at the top of her lungs.

“Myaaaang! (Save Roze!!)”

Even if she was caught sneaking out, she had to live first.

If it was Evelyn or Amelia who pulled her free, at least the hiding spot might remain undiscovered.

But then—

“Behind the dresser, why are you…”

Luckily, someone had heard her cries. Footsteps approached, and the one who appeared was Noah.