Chapter 45
He spoke in a clear, unwavering voice, without the slightest hint of hesitation.
“Recently, the gap between regions within the Empire has been widening.”
Silence fell briefly, but he continued firmly.
“Poor territories remain poor, forcing their people to migrate in search of livelihoods to wealthier lands. Strong domains expand by absorbing neighboring ones, while weaker ones collapse—creating a flood of ruined nobles.”
Emil lowered his head slightly, adding with a faint delay:
“If everything is left solely to self-governance… I fear for the Empire’s stability.”
Wasn’t Denok the one who once described Emil as a quiet man?
Yet here he was, words spilling out, cutting straight to the heart of the Empire’s situation. I almost felt compelled to admire him.
“He speaks far better than I expected.”
I mentally raised my impression of Emil another notch as I observed him closely. Then, by chance, I caught Chelsea at his side shaking her head ever so slightly.
Was it my imagination, or did her expression seem to say, “Here we go again.”
As Chelsea glanced up at Emil, I followed her gaze—only to notice Emil’s ears, burning bright red.
“Hm?”
I blinked in surprise just as Emil swayed slightly. Chelsea caught his arm, preventing him from toppling over. His movements were… almost like a man drunk on wine.
Now that I think of it…
Next to the hand he had braced on the table was an empty wineglass. Each time the glass emptied, servants had dutifully refilled it. And yet, in my memory, his glass always seemed empty.
Had he been drinking all this time? Was he drunk?
Could that be why he was suddenly speaking so fluently? The thought nearly made me laugh aloud.
I had believed his eloquence was his true brilliance—but perhaps, in reality, he required the courage of alcohol to fully reveal it.
Maybe that was why Chelsea had shaken her head—recognizing the disparity between his sober self and this version of him.
Just then, a hearty voice rang out.
“Emil, I didn’t realize you were such a clever man! I too have seen many ruined nobles during my mercenary days.”
Kyle burst into laughter, cheeks flushed a deep purple from the wine he had guzzled.
At this rate, how will they have the clarity to worry about tomorrow’s exam?
Wine offered at noble banquets was meant to lift the mood, not drown it. Yet, unfamiliar with such customs, they had drunk every glass refilled before them without restraint.
“A man as talented as you should be serving at the Imperial Court, not here!”
How remarkably honest this couple was—Kyle and Monica both.
Everyone else remained silent. Only Emil set down his glass and muttered quietly:
“…In truth, I once applied for a position as an Imperial aide.”
All eyes turned toward him at once. Emil tilted his head slightly, wearing a bitter smile.
“I made it to the final stage. But the post was given to a distant relative of the Empress.”
The atmosphere sank into silence. Emil glanced at Chelsea beside him, laying a hand gently on her shoulder as he smiled warmly.
“I wondered if someone like me truly belonged among such extraordinary people. But my wife gave me the courage to step forward.”
He then turned his gaze to the rest of us.
“The Duke Luciano’s announcement held great meaning. There were no restrictions of birth or rank on who could apply.”
I inhaled softly.
Of all people, I had not expected to be moved by him. Yet, his sincerity stirred something in my chest.
And then—
“Oh my, is this a gathering to share life stories? If so, I have plenty of my own to tell.”
Lucien’s playful voice broke through, light but edged with something sharper.
“Are you mocking—”
Kyle began, frowning. But before the tension escalated, Denok spoke in a calm, measured tone:
“The past is of little importance.”
Though spoken indifferently, the words carried a clear standard.
“What matters to me is whether one is useful. That is the only measure I judge by.”
For a moment, the table fell into silence.
I watched Lucien’s expression flicker with unease, while a sober heaviness settled over Kyle’s features.
And I thought to myself: The exam may take an unexpected turn.
Meanwhile, later that evening, after the banquet had ended and everyone was granted free time…
The quiet of the night was torn by a low curse.
“Damn it…!”
“Calm yourself, Lucien.”
Silien gently placed a hand on his shoulder, casting a wary glance around. Fortunately, the darkened garden was empty but for the two of them.
“To play the victim—that wretched man.”
Lucien ground his teeth, his fury spilling into bitter words.
“Claiming he lost to the Empress’s connections? Hah. That was nothing but a ploy to stir sympathy.”
He let out a dry, derisive laugh.
“At this rate, they’ll choose Emil out of pity.”
Scowling, he looked up at the Ducal Manor, its towering walls lit by lamps powered by rare magic stones—a lingering symbol of its ancient glory.
No doubt, true authority in this house lay with Idis Sertia, now the Grand Duchess. Even Denok’s occasional glances in her direction during the banquet had revealed as much.
Lucien had come precisely to forge a connection with House Sertia. That alone was promising.
But if Emil were to capture her attention, things would unravel.
“I must find a way.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Silien.”
“Yes, my love?”
Startled by his sharp tone, Silien answered hesitantly.
Lucien was the son of a wealthy baronial family—but only the second son. He inherited neither title nor estate, and after his father’s death, his greedy elder brother kept the bulk of the wealth.
With what little inheritance he received, Lucien had dabbled in commerce—but his gambling addiction had drained it dry.
This exam was his only chance. Fail now, and he and Silien would live in mediocrity, stripped of everything.
He turned toward her, eyes gleaming with a feverish resolve.
“You once said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?”
Silien bit her lip. She knew what he meant—and feared it.
But when she thought of her jeweled necklace, of the gown shimmering under the moonlight—when she thought of losing all of it because of his ruinous gambling… her heart clenched.
She lowered her gaze, trembling.
A short silence passed. Then, with a deep breath, she lifted her head again.
“Tell me what I must do. You have a plan, don’t you?”
Lucien’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. He pulled her into his arms.
“Thank you, my love. I knew I could count on you.”
She said nothing.
And then, in a low whisper, he revealed:
“What I need you to do is this…”
