133. What Displeases Me

“What is the problem? Was there something we weren’t told?”

Marquis Argen raised his hand and spoke. The Duke of Anderman shot him a hostile look, then rose from his seat and stepped forward. He handed the documents he held to Marquis Argen. Argen skimmed them. They were papers prepared by several nobles who had joined the tax reform pilot areas like him, though they were not present at today’s meeting. The documents listed problems with the tax reform and stated that those regions would withdraw from the pilot program.

“What did you use to threaten them?”

The Duke of Anderman’s face contorted with anger. The Marquis’s territories were implementing the same tax reform. Given the uproar elsewhere insisting on carrying it out, this was absurd.

“Watch your tongue—”

“Enough!!”

The Empress Dowager cut the Duke off. He pursed his lips and returned to his seat with a displeased expression.

“I’ve reviewed those papers as well. I did not intend to let the reforms painstakingly carried out by His Majesty be undone in an instant. But to find so many problems… it seems our inexperienced emperor acted rashly. We will form a temporary committee to draft a new tax reform plan.”

At the phrase “a new tax reform plan,” murmurs rippled through the hall. Apart from the Duke of Anderman, most seemed to hear “a new plan” for the first time—not simply nullifying Edward’s reform and restoring the old system, but replacing it entirely.

“And there is an even more important reason I called this meeting today. The special envoy sent to the Hashiya Kingdom sent a messenger before the delegation reached the capital.”

When the Empress Dowager nodded, the Duke of Anderman stood again, glanced around the chamber, and spoke.

“The messenger reported that the assassins have no connection to the Hashiya Kingdom. They are families of those killed by His Majesty at the Kayaneuman Mountains’ magic-stone mine and seem to have infiltrated the Kazel Empire with personal vendettas. King Rasman II of Hashiya said this matter has nothing to do with him, but he accepts moral responsibility as a sovereign and will provide appropriate compensation.”

At that moment Larael sprang to her feet. She stared at the Duke of Anderman with cold eyes and then left the chamber. Larael went straight to Edward’s bedroom. She breathed hard, struggling to suppress the rising fury. Her guards and maids followed close behind. No one dared speak to her in the face of her intimidating presence.

She sat motionless like a statue at Edward’s side, watching him without making a move. She remained so until Kali sent word that she had returned to Abella Palace and was waiting for her.

After urging Trix to take good care of Edward, Larael summoned Marquis Argen—who had been attending to paperwork in his office after the noble council—and they set off together for Abella Palace.

Kali confidently presented the investigation materials to Larael, as if proving her worth.

“While inspecting properties they own, I found a suspicious building. It’s in a rather remote location, and for the past few weeks they’ve been strictly controlling the area. They’re currently demolishing it under the pretense of reconstruction.”

One of Larael’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“Whose property is it?”

“It belongs to the maternal family of Count Kowell, a retainer of Grand Duke Vellaus.”

That Kali had even checked properties owned by a retainer’s maternal family in such a short time was, needless to say, a testament to her thoroughness. Larael nodded in satisfaction and read the location and details Kali handed her.

“Marquis Argen, could you take Cloud and go check that place? Even if he claims he can’t remember the route, they might recall the surroundings where they stayed.”

“Yes. Understood.”

“And—”

Larael opened a desk drawer and brought out the files she had compiled on the Anderman ducal family. She placed them on the table. Marquis Argen took them and read. His eyes widened as he scanned the pages. The files included stories about the Anderman’s mistress and various little-known scandals, both large and small, surrounding the Anderman household.

“These are the documents I gathered about the Anderman family. It might not be a fatal blow, but I plan to tip them to the newspapers all at once.”

“…That may not be a very good idea.”

Marquis Argen lifted his head to look at Larael; his expression was troubled. His gaze was conflicted.

“…”

“He did not leave them alone because the emperor was ignorant of their petty scandals. No matter how much you hate them—”

“Yes. I am furious enough to go mad.”

Larael shouted, her eyes burning with rage. Tears welled in her eyes almost at once. They were not spoken to condemn her.

“You wanted to inflict even a small blow. What should we do? Fabricate an incident to strike them? If you command it, I can do that.”

Tears rolled down Larael’s pale cheeks.

“…I’m sorry. I became overly excited. Lately I have trouble controlling my emotions.”

“No, Your Highness. My judgment was lacking. I understand your feelings well. The information you uncovered will draw people’s attention, but nothing more.”

“Did you not see how they turned into nothing the work I achieved with great difficulty? I want to do something—anything. I should have been the bait and fallen off that cliff with them.”

Larael bit her lip hard. If she had abandoned her greed for Edward and pretended to be one of Herwen’s people, Edward would not be in harm’s way now; she could have used herself as evidence to sink them. Larael clasped her face. Her boastful pledges—how she would remove the Anderman family and everything that stood in their way for Edward and their child—now felt utterly powerless as she looked at the prone Edward.

All Larael had were the trivial tidbits of gossip Marquis Argen had mentioned—the kind of stories noblewomen might chatter about at tea parties. And she knew well that the Anderman family would not be shaken by such things. That was how deeply and firmly the ancient house of Anderman was rooted in the Kazel Empire.

‘Think, Larael.’

Larael urged herself.

“Your Highness, forgive me if I overstep, but if His Majesty were still by your side, he would not have wanted to see you like this. His Majesty always wished for Your Highness to be happy, even above himself. Please, do not torment yourself too much.”

“…Thank you. I need a moment to think alone, and then I’ll go to the main palace. Kali, you’ve worked hard too. Marquis Argen, take Kali with you to the Tower Master.”

“Yes. Understood.”

After Marquis Argen and Kali left, Sasha brought in a cup of warm milk. Lately, Larael had trouble sleeping, so instead of tea she often drank warm milk with sugar.

“Your Highness, please have some milk, take a nap if you can, and then go to the main palace.”

“All right. Thank you.”

Larael sat at her desk, dismissed her maids, and held the warm milk in her mouth for a moment as she sank into thought.

Just then, a knock came at the door.

“Your Highness, it’s Berser.”

“Come in.”

At Larael’s permission, the bedroom door opened at once and Berser stepped inside. His gaze on Larael was heavy and subdued. Lately, everyone who faced Larael wore the same expression.

“Your Highness, I have something to tell you.”

“Yes. Sit here.”

Larael rose from her desk and moved to the sofa. Berser followed and sat across from her. His tightly closed lips did not part easily. Larael waited in silence for him to speak first.

“Sir Berser, is it something difficult to say?”

At her words, Berser lowered his gaze, then slowly lifted his eyes.

“No… It’s just… my father wishes to see Your Highness. Didn’t Your Highness once suggest we have dinner together?”

“That… Sir Berser, as you know, the situation right now is not very favorable. Once His Majesty recovers…”

“…I know very well what situation Your Highness is in, and what weighs on your heart. And… I also know that I can be of help to you.”