136. An Inquiry into Count Briznay’s Financial Flow

“Greetings to Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager.”

Larael greeted as the Empress Dowager entered Edward’s bedchamber. In an instant, Larael’s eyes cooled. The Empress Dowager, standing at the door, gave her a detached glance and sharply turned her head away, ignoring Larael’s greeting as she bustled straight toward the bed where Edward lay.

“When do you intend to wake up?”

Larael quickly followed to Edward’s bedside.

“What is so urgent that you must attach yourself to me like that?”

“……”

Larael remained silent, her gaze fixed on Edward. The Empress Dowager glanced at her from under lowered lids, then returned her focus to Edward.

“Empress Consort, why do you regard me with such wariness?”

“……Your Majesty knows the reason well enough.”

The Empress Dowager forced a smile and glared at Larael.

“And what is it that I supposedly know? Our Emperor has grown so frail. I shall have to prepare some special meals myself. But… Empress Consort, there is something I must ask.”

“Yes, please speak.”

“You would not… even think of using Sir Berser as leverage to threaten me, would you?”

“……Your Majesty.”

The Empress Dowager looked at Larael with an expression of feigned innocence. A chill ran through Larael, yet she did not avert her eyes; instead, she met the Dowager’s gaze firmly.

“At first, I intended to. But you do not understand what truly matters, do you? I do not want to lose him.”

A flicker of relief crossed the Empress Dowager’s face, only to vanish at once. Seeing this, Larael suddenly felt a pang of pity for her. Even if the Empress Dowager were to learn that John William had advised Larael to use them, would she still be able to wear such an expression?

“The Emperor must regain consciousness soon….”

“He will rise shortly.”

At Larael’s confident reply, the Empress Dowager gave a faint, mocking laugh. When Larael glared back, the Dowager cleared her throat, composed herself, and turned away to sit on the sofa.

“Empress Consort, come and sit here.”

Larael watched her for a moment, then pulled Edward’s blanket higher over him to keep him warm before joining the Empress Dowager on the sofa.

“When Herwen returns from the Kingdom of Hashiya, I intend for him to reside here in the palace.”

“That must not be allowed.”

“And why not? Who are you to dictate what may or may not be done?” The Empress Dowager laughed in disbelief.

“As a woman, I find it difficult to carry out affairs of state. That is why I called upon Grand Duke Vellaus to act as my aide. I did not say this to seek the Empress Consort’s permission—merely to inform you.” She smiled lightly.

“If you truly find it so difficult, then step aside. I will take charge.”

“What did you just say??”

The Empress Dowager’s face twitched violently. She fixed Larael with a blazing glare, biting her lip. Her hands twitched repeatedly, as if she longed to seize Larael by the hair and shake her. But she barely restrained herself. She must not be drawn into Larael’s provocation.

Forcing her trembling lips into a semblance of a smile, she said, “Even with the Emperor’s deep favor, you would do well to mind your tongue. Run your mouth so recklessly, and the day may soon come when you regret it.”

“Yes. I shall bear that in mind.”

Larael bowed her head solemnly. The seriousness of her tone only grated further on the Empress Dowager. Closing her eyes, the Dowager inhaled slowly, steadying herself, though her eyes still smoldered with barely hidden fury. She forced what passed for her best smile.

“Will you also attend the next noble council? As a member of the imperial family, that is.”

“Yes. I will do so.”

Although her words had not been an invitation, Larael answered as though they were. With a frosty expression, the Empress Dowager rose from the sofa. Before Larael could even offer her parting greeting, she swept from Edward’s chamber at a brisk pace.

As soon as she left, Larael returned to Edward’s side. All the emotions she had suppressed burst forth at once. Burying her face against him, she began to weep in muffled sobs. More than anything, she longed to hear just a single tender word from him. But Edward remained still, unresponsive, and Larael sat there staring at him with an empty expression for a long time.

In the afternoon, Marquis Argen arrived with Kali and Tower Master Ferma to meet Larael.

“Did you manage to obtain anything from him?”

Expecting good news, Larael asked as soon as they sat down on the sofa.

Both Marquis Argen and Kali turned their eyes toward Ferma. Receiving everyone’s gaze, Ferma drew a small orb from her robe and placed it on the table.

“What is this?”

Larael asked, staring intently at the unfamiliar orb.

“This is a magical device called a recording stone that I’ve been developing with Nora. You’re familiar with the magical tools that can capture still images, aren’t you? This one can record moving scenes for a set amount of time. It’s not yet perfected, however.”

It didn’t seem like she had brought it out simply to boast about her work. A thought flashed through Larael’s mind, and she quickly looked at Marquis Argen. She thought she saw the faint trace of a smile on his lips.

“The building Lady Layton discovered—the one being demolished—was indeed the place where the assassins had stayed. And Cloud confessed that it was where they had been hiding. That confession has been recorded in this recording stone.”

Marquis Argen spoke in a voice tinged with excitement. The moment he finished, Ferma pressed a button on the orb, as though she had been waiting for the cue.

A bright light flared from the recording stone, and an image projected as if it were unfolding right before their eyes.

The background showed a building on the verge of collapse. Ferma stood there, and beside her lay Cloud, sprawled on the ground.

“Shall we begin?”

As Ferma spoke and chanted an incantation, Cloud’s eyes reddened violently, bulging as he let out a piercing scream. The sound was agonizing to hear, and Larael winced slightly.

“Th-this place… yes… it’s here… H-hashiya… k-kingdom… we… arrived… with masks…”

Though broken with groans, his words were clear enough to understand.

The short recording ended with a close-up of Ferma’s face, grinning faintly. Watching the video, Larael felt her chest swell with relief and triumph.

“You’ve truly done well.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

Larael walked over to Ferma and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Taken aback by her sudden gesture, Ferma hesitated before raising a hand to gently pat her back. She thought of how much hardship she must have endured with her frail body, and a pang of sorrow struck her. If this was even a small help to her, she felt it was enough. The thought left her with a hollow laugh.

Larael turned her gaze toward Edward’s bed, her crimson eyes gleaming. For the first time, she began to feel hopeful that she might truly keep the promise she had made to him.

***

Larael attended every noble council meeting. She sat in silence, quietly observing. At first, the nobles found her presence awkward, but as time passed, they simply ignored her altogether. Some even chuckled, joking that she was nothing more than a pretty doll placed in the room.

When the meetings ended, Larael would quietly rise and be the first to leave the chamber.

“Why did you not attend the council today?”

Back in Edward’s chamber, Marquis Argen asked as Larael seated herself on the sofa.

“Surely, Your Lordship already knows the reason, even without me saying it.”

Larael smiled faintly, lowering her gaze.

“I understand all too well.”

“The gift you sent was delivered safely to Beatrice. She wishes to see you.”

“I wish to see Beatrice as well. But she must still be overwhelmed, is she not?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Marquis Argen allowed himself a small smile before quickly suppressing it when he noticed Larael watching.

“It’s all right.”

Larael’s words suggested she understood his feelings. She turned her eyes toward Edward, lying motionless on the bed.

“Has there been any word yet from Sir Joy?”