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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: The Empire's Core Ideology
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The Empire's foundational principle was clear rewards and punishments.
Stripped of his entire support base in an instant by Daniel Steiner, the Crown Prince was left with no choice but to, effectively, wave the white flag.
With the Crown Prince's concession in the succession struggle, Selvia was able to exert her influence throughout the capital and the Imperial Palace without a hitch.
A month later, Emperor Berthram, who had been observing the events unfold from a distance, decided that further waiting was futile. Under the pretense of selecting a successor, he summoned the Empire's most vital figures to the Grand Hall of the Imperial Palace.
Naturally, Daniel Steiner was among those designated as 'vital figures of the Empire.'
While an invitation to the Imperial Palace for matters of national importance was a tremendous honor, Daniel himself found the occasion nothing short of uncomfortable.
'All I want is to go back to my quarters, have a cup of coffee, and read a book…'
What in the world was he doing here on his precious weekend?
Daniel, letting out an imperceptible sigh, glanced around.
In the Grand Hall of the Imperial Palace, a magnificent space characterized by its opulent yet refined architectural style, all the court ministers, including Duke Belvar, were assembled.
Additionally, arrayed in neat rows were general-grade officers, key figures of the military, and ministers, who formed another pillar of the state.
For Daniel, awkwardly wedged amongst them, the entire affair was akin to sitting on a bed of thorns.
'And it feels like a lot of people are giving me sidelong glances…'
Though none spoke, their gazes constantly flickered toward Daniel.
It was only natural, of course, for a mere major to occupy a prominent position in the Imperial Palace's Grand Hall, thus drawing the scrutiny of the higher-ranking officials.
Deciding it best not to meet anyone's gaze unnecessarily, Daniel fixed his eyes straight ahead.
There, Emperor Berthram sat upon the imperial throne, resplendent in the white uniform that symbolized the Imperial Family.
As if to prove the adage that clothes make the man, there was no trace of the frail appearance Daniel had witnessed in the Emperor's chambers.
"Raise your heads, my children."
At Berthram's solemn voice, Selvia and Arno, who had been kneeling on one knee upon the crimson carpet, raised their heads.
Selvia and Arno were likewise clad in the white uniforms symbolizing the Imperial Family.
"I trust you both understand why I have summoned you here today, before the many distinguished figures who lead this Empire."
At Berthram's words, Selvia and Arno each swallowed hard.
Though their actions were identical, Selvia reveled in a surge of elation, while Arno was consumed by the bitter taste of defeat.
"All gathered here are aware that my illness grows progressively worse, rendering me incapable of properly attending to state affairs. Therefore, let us dispense with the formalities and speak plainly. Today, a successor to my throne shall be named."
As this was common knowledge, they merely maintained their silence, devoid of any surprise.
As if pleased by the silence, Berthram let out a low chuckle, his gaze falling upon his children.
"Are you both prepared to acquiesce to my decision?"
"I shall acquiesce."
It was Selvia's immediate reply.
Arno, however, hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"I shall acquiesce…"
Having secured his children's assent, Berthram nodded once and spoke.
"Then, from this moment forth, I shall name the successor. Selvia von Amberg!"
Selvia, thus called, rose from her kneeling position.
Berthram, observing her, continued.
"I greatly value your capabilities, and I have glimpsed in you the makings of a future Emperor. Can you prove that my foresight has not erred?"
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I shall most assuredly prove it."
"Good. Then, from this moment forth, you shall inherit my legacy and dedicate yourself to the Imperial Family and the Empire. Furthermore, remember that you must usher in a just reign by honoring all your subjects."
Having addressed Selvia, Berthram cast his gaze around the hall.
"And has everyone heard! That the one who shall succeed me is none other than Princess Selvia von Amberg!"
This was a clear directive: with the successor now named, they were to raise no further objections and instead lend their full support to Selvia, the future Empress.
Those who grasped the Emperor's intent bowed their heads in unison.
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty!"
Their unified voices resonated grandly throughout the hall.
Berthram, his sharp gaze sweeping over them once more, opened his mouth again.
"With a successor now named, it is imperative to instruct her in matters of state without delay. I intend to entrust Selvia with the regency; what are your thoughts, esteemed sirs?"
At the mention of a regency, a ripple of murmurs spread momentarily through the hall.
Just as everyone hesitated to offer a hasty reply, Duke Belvar stepped forward and bowed his head.
"Your Majesty. I believe that a regency might be premature for Her Imperial Highness the Princess. I humbly submit that it would be more fitting for Your Imperial Majesty to continue overseeing state affairs for a while longer."
"Duke Belvar. Those are truly excessive words. To suggest that I, who have more days of unsound mind than sound, should continue to oversee state affairs. Do you mean to work me to death?"
Duke Belvar, sensing the Emperor's displeasure, bowed his head even lower.
"I misspoke, Your Imperial Majesty. Please forgive your humble servant's impertinence."
As Belvar retreated, the others likewise remained silent.
Berthram, having savored the momentary stillness, spoke.
"It appears there are no further objections, so I shall proceed with the regency. Nine days hence, Selvia will begin to oversee state affairs alongside me; let this be known to all of you, esteemed sirs."
The assembled individuals within the Grand Hall once again bowed their heads in unison.
"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty!"
Having secured their consent with remarkable swiftness, Berthram waved a dismissive hand, as if his pronouncements were concluded.
"You may all now be dismissed."
At Berthram's words, the bowing ministers and officials slowly began to exit the Grand Hall.
Following them, generals and prominent businessmen filed out. Daniel, being of the lowest rank among them, simply stood still, patiently awaiting his turn to depart.
From his imperial throne, Berthram watched them, his eyes sinking into a thoughtful, somber cast.
'Most of those gathered here today are surely unaware.'
Those not particularly astute in political matters likely believed Daniel Steiner to be merely the Princess's closest confidant.
A capable instrument, perhaps, moving solely at the Princess's command.
But Berthram, having observed all the events that had transpired thus far, knew better.
That Daniel Steiner had moved not according to the Princess's will, but according to a will he had determined himself.
'Thus…'
It was not Selvia herself who had made the Princess the Emperor's successor here today.
Nor was it Emperor Berthram.
Only the man, Daniel Steiner, had orchestrated everything from beginning to end.
'And to think, the fellow who claimed to have no interest in politics…'
Berthram, letting out a wry chuckle of disbelief, raised a hand and crooked a finger.
Immediately, the Chief Chamberlain, who had been standing nearby, approached.
"Your Majesty. Did you summon me?"
"Indeed. Do you see that man over there? The one bearing the insignia of a Major."
"Yes, I see him clearly."
"What is your impression of his outward appearance?"
The Chief Chamberlain, blinking slowly, tilted his head.
"If you refer to his physical appearance, he seems a handsome man, though perhaps a little lean in build. Furthermore, judging by the dark circles beneath his eyes, he appears to be burdened with significant duties. I daresay he is a young man who concerns himself with the future of this nation."
Daniel Steiner, concerned with the future of this nation? At such an amusing notion, Berthram burst into hearty laughter.
As the Chief Chamberlain, bewildered by the sudden outburst of laughter, began to sweat nervously, Berthram composed himself and spoke.
"The Chief Chamberlain always manages to amuse me. In any case, go tell that man to meet me at the firing range; I wish to have a word with him."
Though he could not fathom the meaning behind the Emperor's mirth, the Chief Chamberlain obediently nodded.
***
A short while later.
Daniel, who had been about to depart, was intercepted by the Chief Chamberlain and escorted to a firing range situated within a secluded section of the Imperial Palace.
At the firing range's shooting stand, Emperor Berthram stood, a double-barreled shotgun held firmly in his hands.
'…Why in the world would he summon me to a place like this?'
A sense of apprehension began to stir amidst his bewilderment.
Approaching Berthram with a cautious demeanor, Daniel rendered a salute.
"Your Imperial Majesty. I understand you summoned me."
"Hm? Ah."
Berthram, spotting Daniel, playfully returned the salute before resting his hand on the shotgun's trigger.
His gaze was fixed on the clear blue sky above the grassy field ahead.
"My apologies for the sudden summons. Tell me, have you ever tried trap shooting?"
"I've only ever heard of it, Your Majesty. I had a friend who enjoyed trap shooting during my cadet days."
"Then this is your chance to learn from me. Observe closely."
No sooner had Berthram finished speaking than a whistle sounded, and two clay pigeons soared high into the sky.
Immediately spotting the targets, Berthram raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger in quick succession.
*Bang! Bang!*
The flying shot effortlessly shattered both clay pigeons.
Satisfied with his hit, Berthram lowered the shotgun.
"It's quite a sport. And your shooting prowess is likely superior to mine, so you'll find it easy enough."
"…Your Majesty? Am I to understand you summoned me here merely to enjoy some target practice?"
"Of course not. This is merely a diversion, intended to foster camaraderie between us."
As Berthram broke open the shotgun's breech, two spent casings ejected and clattered to the floor.
A nearby attendant, observing this, approached Berthram and presented him with fresh cartridges.
"My primary purpose in summoning you is to bestow a reward."
"…A reward, Your Majesty?"
"Indeed. Did you not exert considerable effort on behalf of my daughter this past while? I, for one, secretly harbored the desire for Selvia to become Empress, and thus I am profoundly grateful for your diligence."
Berthram, receiving the cartridges from the attendant, loaded them with deliberate movements.
"Therefore, I intend to bestow rewards not only upon you but also upon those who aided you. Provided, of course, that you deem it acceptable. So, could you tell me who these individuals are?"
Berthram, a seemingly benevolent smile gracing his lips, completed the loading by raising and locking the barrel.
Next, Berthram raised a hand in signal, and the attendant withdrew.
As if anticipating the next clay pigeons, Berthram's gaze once again fixed on the empty space above the grassy field.
Daniel, observing him from the side, spoke with a perplexed expression.
"Your Majesty? Those who aided me? If you refer to the apprehension of the Crown Prince's clandestine organization, then I can offer no explanation beyond sheer good fortune."
A clay pigeon soared into the air.
Instinctively, Berthram raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger in quick succession.
As the muzzle flashed, both clay pigeons once again shattered into fragments and scattered.
Confirming his hits, Berthram lowered the shotgun, then broke open the breech.
Two spent casings ejected.
"Major Daniel."
As the spent casings clattered to the ground, Berthram, with a slight shrug, turned to face Daniel.
"I am not asking you a question, Major. This is, to be precise, closer to a command. Therefore, I shall ask again."
A cool breeze drifted in from a distance.
After a brief silence, Berthram continued.
"Tell me precisely who these forces are that aided you, and what their true nature is."
Berthram's lips still held a smile, but his eyes had grown cold and unyielding.
At that subtle shift in expression, Daniel knew with certainty.
'This was…'
…definitely not a query made for the sake of bestowing a reward.