Episode 114
“Ah, this hot water is heavenly.”
“Tell me about it. I never realized our bathtub at home was this good. Ha ha ha!”
After a long-awaited warm bath, Romandro and Beric sank into the sofa, murmuring in bliss. Their travels had been rough—without any villages nearby, they’d been scraping off grime with melted snow. Viviana placed tea on the table and smiled gently.
“I’d like to suggest you rest a bit longer to shake off the fatigue, but it’s almost afternoon. It’s best if you return early and get some rest.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right. There won’t be anything special until the New Year’s gathering after we submit the report anyway. Ugh! But why do I feel so sluggish?”
“Honey, the child’s not going to buy your whining.”
“Huh? That won’t do! Hup!”
Romandro sprang up, snapping his collar into place. Meanwhile, Beric sniffled through half-closed eyes, clearly reluctant to get up.
—Madam, may I trouble you for some water as well?
“Of course, Hasha.”
Viviana accepted Hasha’s presence more smoothly than expected. Having traveled together through the reconstruction zones before marriage, she was well acquainted with him. Hasha, now clean and refreshed, shivered as he sipped the hot water.
“Hasha, you should stay at the manor and rest. I’ll look into the route to Astana on the way back.”
“You too?”
Beric mumbled drowsily, on the verge of dozing off.
“I mean you, Beric. Stay at the manor with Hasha.”
“W-what does that mean, Master? You’re being considerate, right?”
“Why? You think I’m leaving you behind because you might cause trouble?”
“…Never mind. I’m fine with it! Ha ha ha!”
Beric laughed heartily before nodding off into a half-sleep. Romandro clicked his tongue at the sight and whispered quietly.
“Right, on the way back, we should buy some mana water to check the brooch recording. And anything else we might need while staying at the manor.”
On the way here, they had recorded Hasha’s testimony onto Derga’s brooch. To play it back, they needed mana water, so Ian nodded as he grabbed his coat.
“Good. Let’s stop by the commercial district on the way.”
“…?”
Romandro muttered in surprise at the term “commercial district.” It was a term mostly used by central officials. Nobles usually called it the “downtown,” “town center,” or “shopping street.” Commoners might say “market.”
“Ian, have you been studying without telling me?”
“Studying? What kind?”
“Nothing. Let’s go. Dress properly; we’re going to see His Highness Marib. Mini! Is the carriage ready?”
“It’s prepared. The documents have been moved as well.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
Romandro gave Viviana a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping outside. Instead of the old carriage they’d used on the trip, a clean, stylish carriage awaited at the main gate.
Screeeech!
As the carriage sped down the road, Ian took in every detail of the streets. Though not much had changed in a hundred years, subtle differences stood out.
“That looks like where the Hyman Bank used to be. They must have built the building right as they entered.”
Men tossing newspapers, stalls selling fresh vegetables and meat, children lighting cigarettes for tips—Ian’s heart fluttered with an inexplicable excitement.
Screech.
They hadn’t gone far when the palace’s central guards saluted and peered inside. Romandro showed his ID and greeted them.
“Thank you for your service.”
“Verification complete.”
The massive gate, like an outer city wall, opened on its own. A city within a city. The palace looked exactly as Ian remembered. His gaze naturally shifted toward the Ministry of Magic.
“Romandro, when we finish our business, may I stop by the Ministry of Magic?”
“Of course. It’s in the main building of the Second Imperial Palace. You probably won’t be allowed inside, but you can get a feel for the place from outside. By the way, the First Palace houses the royal family’s quarters and officials’ offices, while the Second Palace contains the various departments.”
Since Ian was a mana user, it made sense he was interested. Romandro pointed the way, carefully explaining the layout.
“Over there is the Third Palace, used by staff, servants, and slaves. The Fourth Palace is a subordinate department that handles external affairs and meetings with outsiders…”
Ian smiled politely but was only thinking about the Ministry of Magic. Didn’t Naum say that when he used forbidden magic, he was told to come to the Ministry’s annex for a chance?
“If I go, I’ll find out everything.”
Why had he ended up in the body of a bastard like Ian? What had become of Naum, who once lived as Emperor Ian? Was he truly dead? It felt like spotting a faint light in a thick fog, with no clear path ahead.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Good work. Please let us down here.”
“This is the east wing of the First Imperial Palace’s main building. What brings you here?”
A central guard approached with authority, asking their business. Romandro leaned out the window, while Ian looked outside the opposite window.
“This was Crony’s palace.”
Ian had never walked the path of a crown prince, nor had siblings. Since he’d used the emperor’s palace from the start, this naturally became the place for his nephew, Crony.
“Ah! It’s been a while!”
“Romandro! You’re back!”
“I’m here to report my arrival. Could you help move my luggage?”
This building housed Marib’s office within the First Palace. The guards recognized Romandro and greeted him warmly. They handed over a box of documents and asked,
“Will you be seeing His Highness Marib?”
“Yes. I have much to discuss with him personally.”
“Please come inside. We heard he’s out briefly, though.”
“Out? Wait, what day is it today?”
Romandro counted the days on his fingers and clicked his tongue. It was the afternoon of the palace’s social gathering.
“Can’t be helped. We’ll wait a bit. It should be over soon.”
“Understood. I’ll call a servant. The documents will be placed in the office in advance.”
Following the servants’ lead, they entered the reception room. Everything was elegant and harmonious, befitting the palace’s reputation. Ian studied the room’s atmosphere, guessing at the prince Marib’s character.
“The decorations reflect the culture of neighboring kingdoms. The books look half-read, but the sun-bleached marks are clear. Also, there are no fresh flowers, which are usually present in reception rooms.”
Not as uninteresting as he’d thought.
Displaying decorations from nearby kingdoms was a way to create a more intimate atmosphere for foreign guests, indicating Marib’s diplomatic skills. The sun-bleached books suggested a carefully crafted image and political role.
“Especially placing fresh flowers in a sunny room…”
There’s a saying: people who love animals and children tend to have kind hearts. Being close to nature is similar. Ian thought Marib might be somewhat cold and particular—unless he had allergies.
Knock knock.
“Romandro, the social gathering has been notified.”
“Thank you.”
The servant bowed and glanced at Ian. He must be the bastard from the Bratz border, the one who pushed aside his noble father to seize the lordship—a hot topic in high society.
“Not as young as I expected.”
Ian had imagined a fierce man who tamed the barbarian border tribes, but the man before him seemed delicate and gentle.
Screech.
Once the reception room door closed, Ian gazed at his tea and asked,
“The palace social gathering—is it a meeting with high-ranking officials?”
“Yes. Mostly hunting trips, but sometimes they appreciate art. When a piece circulates, the artist’s value skyrockets. It’s all tangled in various interests.”
Romandro sipped his tea with a blissful smile, as if nothing compared to palace tea.
“Then His Highness Gale will be there as well.”
“Hm?”
“When His Highness Marib is notified, His Highness Gale will know we’ve arrived in the capital.”
Technically, it meant the arrogant, meddlesome “Ian” who disrupted their plans had arrived. Romandro cleared his throat and replied, his tone light.
“Gale doesn’t attend the social gatherings often.”
“Is that so?”
Really? Truly?
As the second prince, he might have restrained himself to avoid suspicion. But since he saved Morin and confronted Marib head-on, and with the rebellion’s plans disrupted, it was uncertain if he still kept his distance.
“…Probably. Maybe?”
Romandro caught the meaning behind Ian’s question and muttered to himself, then gulped down his tea as if his lips were parched.
“What’s there to be so nervous about? Once you step into the palace, there are no secrets. The Ministry of Magic probably already knows—after all, the gates open with magic. Whether it’s today or tomorrow, what difference does it make?”
“The problem is… well, there isn’t one. But still, there’s this psychological weight, you know?”
Romandro cleared his throat again. Serving as an advisor in Bratz, he couldn’t shake the worry that Gale would call on him sooner or later. Ian glanced at the rustling bouquet and smiled faintly.
“If it were a hunt, they’d have gone outside the city, and the servants would have sent word quickly. Looks like today’s for appreciating the artwork.”
Ian nodded toward the annex of the First Palace. As expected, his sense of direction was flawless.
“Oh, is this the statue you mentioned last time?”
“Yes, yes. They said the orders were backed up and we’d have to wait a long time, but somehow we got lucky and received it right away. That sculptor’s really popular these days.”
“True art. This is what art is all about.”
“Oh, by the way, would you like to see this one too?”
The officials from each department gathered in small groups, sharing their own pieces of art. At first glance, it looked like a casual social gathering, with people scattered freely. But the lines dividing them were clear and deliberate.
The royalist faction around Marib, and the opposing faction supporting Gale.
Of course, being noble as they were, everyone pretended not to notice and kept their distance. A subtle, tense atmosphere settled quietly, like the first snowfall.
“Your Highness Marib.”
At that moment, Marib’s aide approached discreetly, whispering despite the risk of interrupting.
“Romandro and Ian have entered the palace. They’re currently waiting in the audience chamber.”
Ah, Marib smiled and raised an eyebrow at the unexpected news. Gale watched him over a glass of wine. Wesley leaned in to whisper to Gale as well. The sharp gazes of the two princes met in the air, tense and unyielding.
“That bastard Ian and the Bratz advisor have entered the palace.”