Episode 68
The atmosphere among the ministers attending the assembly was tense. Word had spread that both princes, who had been sharpening their skills at the hunting grounds the day before, would be present.
“What’s going on all of a sudden? Both Prince Marib and Prince Gale attending together?”
“They usually only show up for the afternoon sessions…”
“I heard they’re clashing over the appointment of the lordship for the Bratz territory.”
“Why are they so obsessed with that useless land? I don’t get it.”
“Have you heard anything else?”
“Well, apparently a recommendation came in for the lordship—from Ian, the illegitimate son of Derga. Since he’s a magic user, I guess Prince Gale is interested.”
“A magic user, you say?”
“Just rumors, really. Let’s get inside. We’re running late.”
Reluctantly, the ministers made their way into the grand hall. Usually, the room buzzed with lively chatter and a relaxed atmosphere, but today was different—heavy and charged.
Creak.
“Prince Gale has arrived.”
“Your Highness, welcome.”
Gale pushed back his naturally tousled black hair and smiled.
“You’re all up bright and early.”
“Flattering, Your Highness.”
Having fallen behind in the line of succession, Gale’s active involvement in politics was an unspoken challenge to Marib. Besides, the assembly was typically the ministers’ domain, so he had no real reason to attend—until now.
“Prince Marib has arrived.”
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
“…Please, be seated.”
Marib glanced briefly at Gale before taking the seat of honor. A heavy silence settled as the assembly began. Throughout the various agenda items, the two princes remained silent, listening.
“Next, then…”
The speaker hesitated, and everyone sensed what was coming.
Here it comes.
“The matter concerns the Bratz territory. Romandro, the advisor sent there, has submitted a recommendation for lordship. The candidate is Ian, the illegitimate son of the executed Derga.”
“The son of a criminal… Isn’t appointing him lord tantamount to dishonoring the family?”
“But Ian was the one who reported Derga to the palace. That means the ties to Bratz were severed long ago. Moreover, he was never officially inducted, so he’s never formally held Bratz Castle.”
The ministers reviewed the report and voiced their opinions. Gale was the first to speak.
“By principle, he should be a slave. Lordship is out of the question.”
“He’s the only Bratz native who can forge an alliance with the neighboring Great Desert. If the army shrinks, costs go down, and taxes will increase.”
“Isn’t that inviting foreign influence? That borders on treason.”
“However, the local populace seems to support him strongly. He meets all the conditions we considered when initially postponing the appointment. And, as mentioned, he’s a magic user.”
“Ah, yes. That’s what I heard.”
The ministers murmured among themselves. As if anticipating this, Marib handed a piece of paper to a servant, who bowed and passed it to the speaker.
“For these reasons, I also recommend him. While a count is typical for borderlands, given the circumstances, a marquisate would be more fitting.”
Following Romandro, Marib had submitted his own recommendation. At this point, there was little ground for opposition. The ministers exchanged silent glances, watching Gale’s reaction.
He seemed to have come to oppose this, yet he said nothing.
“When Ian is appointed lord, what will become of him? As a magic user, shouldn’t he serve the palace? Can the family head afford to be away from the territory for long? Rebuilding the family will be a full-time job.”
“That’s for the family head to decide. Once the territory is granted, it’s not the palace’s concern.”
“Exactly. The question now is whether Ian qualifies as lord. As long as taxes are paid properly, we shouldn’t interfere.”
Especially in borderlands, autonomy had to be respected. Cultural differences due to distance were significant, and this autonomy was what kept the borders secure.
Bang!
“Taxes—well said.”
“…What do you mean?”
Gale snapped his fingers, catching the tail of the comment, and Marib frowned—a subtle reminder to maintain decorum.
“Originally, he should be a slave. Since he’s a magic user, keeping him as a slave at the palace would be advantageous. Isn’t that right, Minister Wesley?”
“That’s one way to look at it. The average income for a mid-level mage is 200 gold coins annually. Even those with less experience earn at least 100.”
“If Ian is promoted to mage status, the palace will have to pay accordingly. But if he’s demoted to slave, it’s a net gain.”
“There has never been a case of a mage being enslaved!”
“How can the Minister of Magic say such a thing?”
The ministers gasped, raising their voices. Mages were considered sacred, wielding divine power, and thus highly respected.
Though their numbers were few, the palace allocated them a generous budget.
Wesley smiled lightly, signaling calm.
“I was merely discussing the economic cost Ian would bring. I never suggested enslaving him.”
“Prince Gale, what exactly are you implying?”
The prime minister intervened, raising his gavel. Gale looked toward Marib and spoke.
“I’ve heard that the taxes Derga neglected to pay were substantial. The palace even provided subsidies to the border region.”
“That was a humanitarian measure.”
“If Ian repays the palace a certain amount—covering economic opportunity costs and back taxes—I believe everyone could accept it.”
Marib almost chuckled. Since even the investigation leader and Molin couldn’t sway the lordship appointment, they were now pushing to settle it with money.
If a lord failed to repay public debts like taxes within a set period, the palace would confiscate the territory to cover losses. Wealthy opportunists often eyed these auctions. If it came to that, Wesley would likely be the highest bidder.
‘No wonder the Ministry of Magic…’
As the palace’s biggest budget consumer, no one could guess how wealthy Wesley truly was. Some even joked she had mastered alchemy, piling up gold like sand throughout her mansion.
“Honestly, given he’s the son of a criminal, these conditions seem fair. Appoint him lord for one year. If he fails to repay by then, demotion to slave is justified.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“Ten thousand gold coins.”
“Hmm.”
“That seems reasonable to me.”
Such a confident demand was clearly calculated and well-founded.
But ten thousand gold coins.
That was roughly the amount collected in taxes from Bratz, assuming none was spent locally. Ian would likely have to sell mines or land to cover it.
If that happened, the family’s fortunes would decline, and their power would wane—opening the door for Gale to step back in.
“What do you all think?”
“I don’t think it’s too harsh. Paying that price would give us legitimacy externally and quell noble opposition.”
“I agree. Even if he’s a magic user, as the previous lord’s bloodline, there are still doubts.”
“But isn’t one year too short? There will be trial and error as he governs. Three years would be better…”
“He’s already been acting as lord in Bratz, hasn’t he? From this winter to next winter is two years. That should suffice.”
The ministers sought consensus, glancing at Marib for approval. He tilted his head thoughtfully; Gale’s proposal wasn’t as bad as expected.
“Very well. Then appoint Ian as lord, conditionally.”
“That way, he can generate revenue through management…”
“Agreed. I have no objections.”
Marib nodded willingly, and the ministers breathed a quiet sigh of relief—at least they’d have their afternoon tea break.
Meanwhile, Gale and Wesley exchanged surprised looks.
‘I thought they’d fight harder to protect him.’
At least they expected a longer term or a lower repayment amount.
Or outright rejection of Gale’s claim.
Whether Marib knew their thoughts or not, he urged the prime minister.
“It seems we’ve reached consensus. Let’s move on.”
“Ah, yes. Then I will submit a proposal to the Emperor to conditionally appoint Ian as lord of Bratz.”
“Agreed.”
“No objections.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gavel struck, closing the agenda. Marib smiled and moved on to the next report, indifferent to whether Ian would repay the debt.
His primary goal was to prevent Gale’s faction from taking the lordship. Besides…
‘Somehow, I think he’ll pull it off.’
Though he’d never met Ian, Marib had a strange confidence that Ian would manage the job well. It was baseless and unrealistic, but that’s how he felt. Perhaps, as an outsider, he found the whole affair intriguing and not worth worrying over.
But if Ian really raised those ten thousand gold coins…
‘Now that would be something to watch.’
“Let’s proceed to the next item.”
A fragile calm settled over the assembly that had seemed poised for a storm.
Wesley tilted his head and whispered something to Gale, who nodded in understanding. Marib simply watched them calmly.
Two weeks later.
From the moment Romandro woke up each morning, he developed the habit of checking the window. For some reason, there was no sign that the courier sent to the palace had returned.
If the recommendation letter had arrived safely, there should have been a reply by now…
“Hm?”
That’s when he spotted it—a strange carriage climbing the distant hill. A golden carriage, gleaming as if it had captured the sunlight itself, adorned with dazzling banners. Romandro rubbed his eyes in disbelief, then bolted outside in shock.
“Ahh! Ro-Romandro?”
“What’s going on?”
“Ian, Ian, quickly!”
“Huh? Ian is in the garden right now…”
Still in his pajamas, Romandro shouted with a flushed face.
“There’s a carriage coming down from the palace!”
“What?”
The servants paled, recalling the nightmares of the investigation leader and fearing it might be bad news about Mollin and the others imprisoned underground. But Romandro’s expression was the exact opposite.
“It’s a golden carriage! It carries the emperor’s command!”
What could the emperor’s command be, after sending the lord’s recommendation letter? Romandro dashed toward the garden, and soon found Ian crouched down, brushing dirt off himself.
“Ian!”
“Romandro?”
Ian looked up, confused, dusting his hands as he stood. Though the garden wall blocked his view of the approaching carriage, Romandro could feel the excitement radiating from him.
“The lord’s appointment has arrived!”