BGFV Chapter 162

Chapter 162

Mid-April.

The long, harsh winter was over, and spring had come in full.

It had been about a month since the emperor lifted the national state of emergency declared in early January.

Thanks to Winston’s quick action, the bloodpox that had tormented the whole empire was ended in a short time.

Occasional cases still appeared, but the new medicine was now available everywhere.

Bloodpox was no longer a terrifying unknown disease, nor was it considered a disease brought only by refugees.

“Wasn’t it a refugee doctor who developed the new medicine?”
“I heard Novelli had a big outbreak of bloodpox in the past.”
“Since they knew how scary it was, they threw themselves into helping.”
“More than that—if it weren’t for the refugee doctor and Winston, the north might have been wiped out.”

Whenever people gathered, someone would mention the heroes of the bloodpox crisis.

There were two main heroes:

One was Felix, who spread knowledge of the disease and its treatment.
The other was Winston.

People didn’t specify exactly who in Winston, but in the empire, the Winston name now carried almost as much weight as the imperial family.

It was Winston who listened to Felix when refugees were hated. Winston who responded the fastest. Winston who developed the new medicine.

“No noble cares for us commoners like Winston does.”
“Remember before, when people suffered from poison in cosmetics? Winston made the cure.”
“Back then they saved my mother’s life. And this time, they saved mine.”

Winston’s reputation grew higher every day.

This happened because interviews with Aiz Pharmaceuticals, who developed the medicine, spread widely.

Baseless hatred against refugees stopped.

But one big problem remained.

“Well, sure, a refugee doctor developed the medicine. But the disease still spread mostly among refugees, right?”
“Accepting them in the first place was wrong. Our taxes are feeding them…”
“Winston solved everything, but what did the imperial family do?”
“If His Majesty hadn’t accepted the refugees at all, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Some people shifted their resentment from refugees to the imperial family.

And they began to call the emperor incompetent.

The voices were small but couldn’t be ignored.

Then an article silenced the complaints.

[The Sun Rises in the North.]

In mid-February, as northern cases neared ten thousand, the sun shone upon the struggling north.

This was no metaphor. The empire’s sun—the emperor himself—had secretly traveled there.

In disguise, His Majesty visited quarantine centers full of bloodpox patients, personally tending to them with his own hands.

The article described in detail what Sylvester had done in the north.

When it was published, the empire was thrown into shock.

It was already astonishing that the emperor had gone somewhere so dangerous—but that he had touched and cared for patients himself? Unbelievable.

Had any noble, even those closest to the throne, ever done such a thing?

At first people suspected exaggeration. But when testimonies came from northerners treated by him—and when Duke Norvin himself visited the palace for the first time in decades—every doubt vanished.

Winning people’s hearts isn’t complicated.

Just sincerity. That alone moves them.

The same was true of public opinion.

Sylvester’s popularity, once shaky, not only recovered but soared.

“This is too much… did they really have to write the article like this?”

Sylvester, uncomfortable, put down the newspaper full of praise for him and looked at those in front of him—Hestia, Luciard, and Kenneth.

“Of course! And according to Lady Frost, it’s not even an exaggeration,” Kenneth replied sharply.

Sylvester’s eyes darted away.

When the article first came out, Kenneth nearly collapsed with anger.

He had been told nothing happened in the north—yet here was proof His Majesty had been slipping into quarantines, nursing the sick!

The day it was published, Sylvester endured a full hour of Kenneth’s scolding, a story well-known in the palace.

“Either way, it’s good for now. You’ve regained the people’s trust,” Hestia soothed, calming Kenneth down before his blood pressure rose again.

Sylvester watched them with a bitter smile.

“My apologies, Lady Frost.”

Both she and Luciard looked at him.

“Honestly, I did almost nothing in the north. It was you who saved them, who developed the medicine. I feel like I’ve stolen the credit. In truth, I want to award you medals, but…”

“It’s fine. Receiving medals would only increase the number of our enemies.”

“And besides, didn’t you promise not to hold us responsible in exchange for no medals? That’s more than enough. For His Majesty to come personally to our castle—it’s the greatest honor.”

After the crisis eased, Sylvester had secretly traveled with Kenneth to Winston Castle.

He had come to give thanks and to apologize for not awarding them.

“Still, I’m sorry. If not for my uncle, I could’ve given you at least a small medal. I feel ashamed.”

At that, Luciard and Hestia’s expressions stiffened.

After exchanging a look, they asked cautiously:

“Has there been trouble with Grand Duke Florence?”

Sylvester’s brow twitched. Even that small reaction convinced them something had happened.

“Lately, my uncle… has been a little strange. Different than before. But…”

He trailed off, then forced a smile.

“Well, one can’t always get along. Don’t think too much of it.”

Hestia noticed the smile was unnatural. Remembering how warmly he had reconciled with Duke Valdemar, this laugh felt artificial.

“Your Majesty, I have something urgent to say.”

Hestia spoke seriously.

“Do you know how bloodpox spread through the empire?”

“As far as I know, the cause hasn’t been discovered. I heard false rumors that refugees spread it…”

“They weren’t false.”

“…What?”

“It spread through seven refugees and three foreigners who smuggled in. And all of this was an artificial disaster created by the Florence family.”

For a moment, Sylvester said nothing. Then he gave a hollow laugh.

“What are you talking about? It was just an epidemic. Why bring up the Florence family—and call it artificial?”

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth, Your Majesty,” Hestia said firmly.

Kenneth added, “Yes. It’s true.”

Sylvester fell silent, noticing how serious they looked.

Luciard calmly explained:

• Count Humphrey had brought both infected people and Ruberu herb into Valeron.
• Infected people were deliberately spread throughout the empire.
• In the assembly, pro-Florence nobles stirred up unrest.
• Rumors were spread against His Majesty.
• And finally…

“It seems Grand Duke Florence is planning rebellion.”

“…Nonsense.”

When they finished, Sylvester’s voice shook with anger.

“After all Winston has done for me, you stab me in the back like this? You know how much I despise anyone trying to sow discord between me and my uncle!”

Neither Luciard nor Hestia had ever seen him this furious. They stiffened.

“This isn’t slander, Your Majesty,” Hestia pleaded.
“Please calm yourself and listen.”

They had expected him to resist the truth—but not so fiercely.

“Silence! Say rebellion one more time and I’ll never see you again!”

He leapt to his feet and headed for the door.

Panicked, Hestia and Luciard rose too, unsure how to stop him.

Then Kenneth’s low voice filled the room:

“Your Majesty, don’t run away.”

“…What did you say?”

Hand on the door, Sylvester glared at him.

“You can’t avoid this. You know they aren’t lying.”

“Count Kenneth! Are you siding with them?!”

“I’m not taking sides. I’m stating facts. Even you must have felt something suspicious from Grand Duke Florence.”

Sylvester froze. Kenneth’s calmness made him realize something.

“You… you’ve known for a long time.”

Kenneth nodded.

Two months earlier, Hestia had gained Arthur’s confession and become sure Florence was behind it. She told Kenneth right away.

Kenneth secretly investigated and found evidence of Florence’s hidden moves.

“I’ve already confirmed it. Your Majesty… Florence really is plotting rebellion.”

Sylvester clenched his fists.

A moment ago, being with them felt so comfortable. Now, staying in the same room was unbearable.

It felt like sitting at the same table as the Florence family themselves.

‘Wait… why does it feel unbearable?’

The stray thought rattled his mind.

Then suspicions he had long buried began to resurface.

Lasie, oddly distant.
Gabriel, gentle but never letting him close.
Chloe, openly hostile.
And Asid, always interfering with his work lately.

Goosebumps ran over him.

But what shook him most was the voice inside saying, If it’s Florence, it makes sense.

‘They’re my only family… and yet I think they might do this?’

To Sylvester, Florence was more than family.

When his mother died and his father abandoned him, they filled the void.

To imagine them plotting rebellion was unbearable.

Worse still, admitting deep down he partly believed it made him feel like he was betraying them.

“…I know this is hard to accept, Your Majesty. But you must not avoid it.”

Kenneth’s hand gripped his shoulder. Sylvester trembled.

Then he suddenly shoved the door open.

“Your Majesty!”

Without another word, he bolted so they couldn’t follow.