Episode 51
When I looked at her with my eyes sparkling, Mien carefully closed the booklet.
“But this is just one of the regulations. It’s never actually been enforced, of course. I mean, unless you’re out of your mind, what ordinary employee would have the guts to lay a hand on a member of the imperial family?”
Well, that was true. Even if the crown prince approved it, would there really be any employee bold enough to push something like this forward? If they got involved and things went wrong, they could easily lose their head—literally.
Still, there’s a big difference between something that’s absolutely impossible and something that’s improbable but possible. The difference between a 0% chance and a 1% chance can, in binary terms, be the dividing line between “possible” and “impossible.”
I picked up the booklet and stood up. I had a feeling I needed to meet the crown prince.
The crown prince greeted me casually when I visited his office. He looked worn-out, rubbing his unshaven, prickly chin, and gestured for me to sit down.
Back in the day, I never would have imagined I’d one day be sitting face-to-face with the crown prince like this. I sat naturally on the sofa in his office, once again realizing just how much my position and circumstances had changed.
“Department of Oversight?”
“Yes. It’s in the internal regulations. I even checked the legal code just in case, but there’s no legal basis that would block it.”
“Of course not. No one would dare touch the imperial family anyway.”
As I’ve said before, this is a world where, although there are laws, social status is above the law, and those born with noble blood hold all the power. So even without a legal provision, there’s an insurmountable wall between the imperial family and everyone else.
The crown prince rubbed his face with both hands. After staring at the booklet I handed him for a long time, a short sigh escaped his lips.
“If I back you, it’s doable. But is there anyone in the Department of Oversight who’d carry it out?”
“That’s something I’ll have to find out.”
“Unless they’re a mutant like you, most people in that department wouldn’t even know such a regulation exists.”
Mutant? That’s a bit harsh.
I glared at the crown prince (but quickly looked away when our eyes met) and added that Mien, a coworker, had told me about it. He said, “I see,” but didn’t seem particularly interested in who had given me the tip.
Anyway, the Department of Oversight… the only person I knew there was Team Leader David.
‘Team Leader David?’
If it were David—competent, fair, meticulous—then maybe…
No, wait. This is about targeting the Emperor. No matter how much faith I have in David, he was still born and raised in this world. Would someone with these ingrained values take on a job involving the Emperor?
Still, maybe I should at least… mention it? But what if I bring it up and word somehow spreads that we’re investigating the Emperor? David isn’t the type to gossip, but still, you never know.
Even so… perhaps a subtle hint wouldn’t hurt.
While I was busy imagining how David might react, the crown prince seemed to finish his own thoughts and closed the booklet.
“Alright, I get it. I’ll think about it. Better to have a last-resort option than none at all.”
Even for the crown prince, given who we’d be dealing with, caution was inevitable. My job was simply to present different strands of possibility. All the decisions—and the responsibility—would ultimately be his.
I packed the booklet, bid him goodbye, and left the office.
“Ayle?”
As I crossed the main palace after leaving the crown prince’s office, I heard a familiar voice behind me. Turning, I saw the textbook example of a sharp-featured Western beauty—Team Leader David—approaching with a bright smile.
Well, well. You’re no aristocrat yourself, are you?
“Hello, Team Leader.”
“Hey, it’s been a while. What brings you to the main palace?”
“Just had some business to take care of.”
David looked just as dashing as when I’d last seen him a few months ago, smiling broadly to show perfectly white teeth. He suggested we grab a coffee if I had time and led me toward his office.
I didn’t have anything urgent today, and since I’d just been thinking about him when he appeared, it felt like fate. So I went along to the Audit Team’s office.
“Still busy with the Knights’ Order? How’s the marquis doing?”
“The same as ever.”
I took a sip of the coffee David offered me, giving a vague reply. The fact that Ron had woken up was still a top secret under the crown prince’s orders. Only the retainers of House Metailor, myself, the crown prince, and Shawn knew the truth.
The crown prince had his reasons for keeping Ron’s recovery under wraps—most likely because if it became known, they’d have to push forward with Narraine’s trial. Right now, the crown prince was delaying that trial with every excuse possible. With Reynolf’s trial dragging on, if Narraine’s case blew up again, it would give the nobles who wanted to dismantle the Knights’ Order the perfect ammunition.
Not knowing any of this, David furrowed his thick brows and offered some words of comfort.
“He’ll wake up soon. He’s a strong man.”
“That’s true. How about you? The Audit Team’s in its busy season, right?”
To steer the conversation away from Ron, I asked about the Audit Team’s workload. David complained about the heavy workload, but there was pride in his voice as he recounted their results in detail.
I’d noticed before that David was proud of the Audit Team. He wasn’t boastful about it, but the pride showed in his voice, his tone, and his actions. Considering it was one of the most important teams in the palace’s most important departments, that was understandable. And a team leader taking pride in his work was a very good thing.
“…so we’ve been working late every day lately.”
After his long explanation, David scratched his head as if embarrassed.
“I guess I talked too much, huh?”
I shook my head with a small smile. Conversations with people who take pride in their work are always enjoyable. Even if I can’t fully follow everything, their enthusiasm is contagious.
Watching David for a moment, I casually asked in the most offhand tone I could manage:
“Does your team ever audit the imperial finances?”
“Of course. That’s what we do—auditing the imperial finances.”
“I see. So… like, how much the imperial family spends?”
I tried to make it sound as casual as talking about the weather, but even so, David’s expression stiffened at my question. Auditing the imperial family would be a sensitive topic for the Audit Team.
After studying my expression for a moment, he must have decided I’d asked without any ulterior motive, because his face soon relaxed back into a smile.
“Honestly, the imperial family’s difficult. It’s outside our jurisdiction.”
“But if it were within your jurisdiction, would you do it?”
“Authority to audit the imperial family, huh…”
David rubbed his chin with a serious look. He repeated the word “authority” to himself a few times, then nodded firmly, as if making up his mind.
“If I had the authority, I’d have to. If it’s my job, then yes.”
Oh-ho.
Seeing his resolve, I grinned. Good thing I’d brought it up. At least I’d gotten a positive answer.
Of course, dragging him into something like this recklessly was a matter I’d have to think over very, very carefully. But as the crown prince said, better to have a last-resort option than none at all.
I smiled at David and finished my coffee.
“What? But this letter’s addressed to the main palace.”
“That’s exactly why His Highness the Crown Prince will be taking it. There’s no addressee, is there?”
The palace courier looked at the purple-haired man demanding the letter. The man had strode up to him, introduced himself as the crown prince’s aide, and now held out his palm expectantly.
At first, the courier had no idea what was going on, but when he thought about it, it wasn’t exactly wrong.
After a brief hesitation, he decided, “Ah, whatever,” and handed it over. The Intelligence Guild had said it must be delivered to the main palace, but the crown prince was still part of the main palace staff. It wasn’t like it was being completely misdelivered. And really, who was he to refuse a direct order from the crown prince?
Thus, the man—Yen, the crown prince’s aide—took the letter and immediately went to report to the crown prince. In the prince’s office, the crown prince was with Orion, the director of the Intelligence Bureau.
“This is the letter from Bareil?”
Rosen took the letter, checked the sender, and smirked.
They’d apparently requested that something be added to the sender’s line, and sure enough, it was one of the secondary signatures Bareil often used—something high-ranking nobles employed when sending a memorial to the imperial family. Clearly, this was meant to be passed to the Emperor through someone in the main palace.
Tearing open the envelope, Rosen quickly read the contents.
“What does it say?”
“Read it yourselves.”
After finishing, Rosen handed the letter to Orion and Yen. Their expressions also turned strange as they read. Orion spoke first.
“Well, well. Looks like Bareil’s been completely abandoned by the Emperor.”
“Exactly. That’s why Count Lev is running wild to take his place.”
“So whatever strings he supposedly pulled with Marianne, it was just an empty threat. We should let Ayle know.”
The letter was long and rambling—Bareil’s desperate plea for the Emperor to give him another chance. To anyone, it was obvious: he was a man discarded, a kite with its string cut.
Rosen crumpled the letter in his hand and tossed it into the trash.
