Chapter 09
Change
The election for the new Prime Minister of the Daatro Empire took place at the beginning of the year. Before the traces of the New Year festivities had even faded from the streets, a radio broadcast swept in and changed the atmosphere.
As most citizens had expected, the result confirmed the reappointment of Prime Minister Nicolaus Colt. The ruling party secured a majority in the Lower House, and as party leader, Colt did not need to vacate the official residence he had occupied for the past three years.
That alone was reason enough for the official visit of his only son, Edmund Colt, to attract the full attention of the capital’s press. Yet Edmund contacted only his father’s inner circle through his maternal uncle and quietly stepped into a familiar limousine waiting in front of a sparsely populated station.
Even on a quiet street, he drew eyes wherever he went. He was the sort of man whose appearance commanded attention.
“I still remember the day you left for boarding school. To think you’ve already returned as such a fine young man.”
Only after the door clicked shut did a warm greeting come from the man seated beside him.
“You’re now my father’s chief aide, aren’t you, Norman?”
“Yes. It’s been quite some time. I’m honored that you remember me. I suppose I should now address you not as young master, but as Count Colt. I was pleased to hear you’d be visiting through your uncle.”
Norman spoke while reflecting on the past.
Edmund Colt had moved into the estate of Duke Senowick—his maternal uncle—immediately after graduating from Hamilton Boarding School and enrolling at Alfred Imperial University, citing its proximity. That decision had marked the last time he returned home.
The young master who had once only sent letters now appearing in person—how unexpected, Norman thought.
Edmund responded with a polite smile that kept others at arm’s length.
“I thought I should at least congratulate my father.”
His gaze drifted to the morning paper spread between them. On the front page was the Prime Minister’s face.
COLT CABINET REFORMS: CAN THE UNDERWORLD BE BROKEN?
“Hasn’t everything gone exactly the way he wanted?” Edmund said.
Indeed, it had.
The Prime Minister had lived a life befitting a member of a political dynasty, acquiring everything he desired. And yet, his only son—whose thoughts remained unreadable—was his greatest disappointment.
Sensing the awkward silence, Norman spoke again.
“He’ll be happy you’ve come. Following His Excellency’s wishes, you could have graduated from the military academy and served alongside the Crown Prince, or entered the Lower House and aimed for a ministerial post… but politics isn’t the only path.”
“To him, I’ll always be a failure.”
“That’s because his expectations were that high. Still, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”
“……”
“Why do you refuse to live as a Colt?”
“What reason would there be?” Edmund replied as he carelessly folded the newspaper bearing his father’s face.
“I simply find my own work more interesting.”
The coldness in his voice was unmistakable—entirely different from earlier pleasantries. Unease flickered across Norman’s thoughts, and he hurriedly changed the subject to something universally inflammatory.
“By the way, have you heard? Marquis Mergoville somehow managed to maintain ties with the Speaker’s family. There’s to be an engagement announcement banquet soon.”
For a fleeting moment, a shadow passed across Count Colt’s face—perhaps just the light from the window. Watching too closely, Norman misspoke.
“You attended their New Year’s celebration yourself, after all. They say the scale alone was astonishing.”
You attended yourself.
A sharp gaze snapped toward him.
Recovering smoothly, Norman continued,
“And now an engagement banquet on top of that. While everyone else tightens their belts to survive this global depression, such extravagance—truly, the vanity of that enchantress knows no bounds.”
Edmund let out a silent chuckle and waited for Norman to finish.
“It seems you’ve grown quite talkative,” he remarked mildly.
“The indiscretion of old age.”
Clearing his throat, Norman finally approached the real issue.
“Still, it’s fortunate you’ve found the time to visit. With the Empire distracted by gossip, it would be an ideal opportunity for you to greet His Excellency’s associates—”
“I believe I already declined that invitation,” Edmund cut in.
Norman raised a silver eyebrow and turned to look at him.
“My congratulations to my father will suffice.”
The reply was blunt, yet delivered without the slightest hint of irritation. His smile remained impeccable.
He didn’t look like an opportunist returning to the family to ride his father’s political success.
“Yes. I understand.”
Norman believed Edmund hadn’t appeared merely to exchange pleasantries. Then why now?
Only then did he recall hearing, quietly, that Edmund had attended the Mergoville New Year’s banquet this year.
Was it mere curiosity about gossip?
Until now, Norman had assumed Edmund had returned to the capital—to the Colt family led by his father—rather than to the city itself.
Snow continued to fall, blanketing the silence inside the car.
Since the New Year celebrations ended, the cold had deepened, the air heavy with winter’s scent. The echoing chime of a clock tower they passed rang unusually loud.
❖ ❖ ❖
“This is a historic moment. Prime Minister Colt, who guided the Daatro Empire through its darkest period, has earned the people’s trust once more. With royal approval, he is now on his way to the Imperial Palace to lead the cabinet again.”
Cheers erupted from the radio, followed by the Prime Minister’s own voice.
“Against the barbarians who ravaged our economy and trampled our right to public safety, we will—without fail—prevail. Our noble Daatro shall rise once again. I swear this to our proud citizens.”
It was the New Year.
The radio blared with the Prime Minister’s triumphant voice. In this harsh season, sighs from radios across the city drowned out even the wonder of children marveling at the snowfall.
In the corridor of an old yet dignified mansion, the footsteps of two maids echoed.
Knowing their mistress’s mood would be foul, their nerves were stretched taut. Everything felt frozen—save for the steaming basins in their hands.
If those who opposed the Prime Minister’s reappointment were ranked, House Mergoville would undoubtedly place high. Simply put, the ruling party wasn’t the side they had bet their daughter on.
“Madam. It’s Claire.”
The maid without the basin knocked on the massive door.
“We’ve brought the morning paper and water for washing.”
Her other hand supported a tray bearing newspapers.
“Come in.”
At the soft permission, Claire opened the door and ushered the other maid inside. The lady of House Mergoville sat on a sofa, reviewing documents, red half-moon spectacles perched on her nose. For someone who had just received the news she least wanted to hear, she was remarkably composed.
“You may leave those. Ah—and take the papers away.”
Her gaze flicked briefly from the basin to the newspapers. The morning headline announcing the Prime Minister’s victory.
A cold dismissal of unpleasant, unexpected news.
“Yes, madam.”
Just as the maids turned to leave—
“One more thing.”
Without effort, the lady halted them.
“Where is the girl?”
Their eyes met hers.
The girl…
Though she had two children, today there was no doubt whom she meant.
