Chapter 186

It has already been three days since King Richard and Crown Prince Henry fell unconscious due to the bombing.

The royal family has issued a decree banning all indulgent activities.

Banquets, theatrical performances, and musical concerts are now prohibited throughout the capital.

However, these things have not truly disappeared.

Rather, social gatherings in slightly altered forms have become even more active.

The more something is forbidden, the more people desire it. Moreover, the sudden absence of the king and crown prince has sharply stimulated the survival instincts of the nobility.

In an effort to keep up with the rapidly shifting political currents, nobles have begun gathering in places where they can exchange information.

And I was one of them.

“Ah, Baron Winslet. I heard the news. They say you recently visited your family’s county.”

“I’ve heard the south is warm and fertile. It must have been a pleasant summer retreat. I do hope I might receive an invitation someday.”

“Please, include me as well.”

As I deftly dealt with the opportunists who rushed over under the mistaken belief that Winter Winslet had reconciled with his father, the count, I heard another voice.

“What are you all talking about? Haven’t you heard that the entire Winslet Count’s estate has collapsed?”

“That can’t be. Did a war break out without my knowing? Who in the world could have reduced the Winslet estate to that state?”

“Well, obviously…”

Silence fell over the group.

Then I felt a burning sensation at the back of my head.

“So he didn’t return to his hometown after ten years to reconcile, then.”

“I heard his relationship with his father was poor, but to go so far as that? Is Count Winslet safe?”

“I’ve heard he’s alive. But apparently, his condition is far from good.”

“No matter how much resentment he bore, how could he do such a thing to the parent who gave him life…”

Technically, the reason Venizelos’ hound attacked the count’s estate was because of me, so I can’t say I’m entirely blameless….but this is still rather unfair.

I was debating whether to clear up the misunderstanding or simply ignore it when someone else approached me with obvious delight.

He was a handsome man, his long, thick black hair flowing like a lion’s mane.

“Well, if it isn’t Baron Winslet.”

“Duke Karl Gosling.”

The man known as the Empire’s ambassador and the Black Lion Duke stood with his secretary.

The woman who appeared to be his secretary gave a polite bow and stepped back.

“Your Grace is interested in this gathering as well?”

“Of course. I’ve been so worried about dear King Richard’s health that I can hardly sleep these days. And when sleep won’t come, there’s no remedy quite like this.”

As he spoke, Duke Gosling lifted a glass prepared at the venue.

His secretary, watching from beside him, let out a sigh.

“Would you care for a drink as well?”

“I’ll pass.”

The event I was attending was both a memorial for the king and prince and a charity function intended to raise funds for the citizens caught up in the Royal Mile bombing.

Despite the royal decree banning indulgent activities, glasses could be seen clinking throughout the hall because the alcohol served was a herbal liqueur meant to symbolize prayers for the patients’ recovery.

It was a thinly veiled excuse, but in any case, the stimulus-starved nobles responded well to it.

To begin with, this was a society where breaking the rules was treated as a kind of privilege.

Moreover, since the host of this charity event was Queen Bridget, the mistress of the kingdom, people felt even less need to restrain themselves as they enjoyed their drinks.

“By the way, I don’t see Queen Bridget, the host of this charity function.”

Karl Gosling frowned slightly as he replied.

“Given that she may lose both her husband and her son, she probably doesn’t wish to appear in public. If things turn the wrong way, rumors might spread that she tried to have the two of them killed in order to assume the regency.”

“Is it truly that serious?”

“The queen has made quite a number of enemies, whether she realizes it or not. Until now, they kept quiet because her son was the heir to the throne.”

Duke Gosling drained another glass.

When he reached for yet another, his secretary smacked the back of his hand.

“Please conduct yourself with dignity, Your Grace.”

“Oh, this is unbearable. Baron, do you see how poorly I’m treated?”

“Are you planning to get drunk and cause a scene like last time? If you do that here today, there will be real consequences.”

“Hmm, my singing wasn’t that bad back then, was it?”

“……”

I asked,

“So who is hosting this event today?”

“Princess Roberta.”

Roberta, daughter of Queen Bridget and the second princess of the Laurencia Kingdom.

She was acting as the queen’s representative in her stead.

“So the queen must have judged that Prince Henry’s chances of recovery are slim.”

“Hmm? What makes you think that?”

“If that weren’t the case, there would be no need to draw this much attention to Princess Roberta and bolster her position at a time when caution should be paramount.”

With Crown Prince Henry, King Richard’s only son, as good as dead, the line of succession had passed to the eldest daughter, Princess Estelle.

The very Estelle whom Queen Bridget had long kept in check and harassed now stood to become queen. It was only natural that Bridget would act like someone with her back against the wall.

“And everyone present here today is a key figure in the kingdom. There may be some who declined their invitations, of course.”

It could be seen as a swift move by the queen to prevent her support base from fracturing.

When I laid out my reasoning, Duke Gosling’s mouth curled into a grin.

“Remarkable. Are all mages as sharp and perceptive as you? Ah, I don’t mean that sarcastically; it’s a compliment. One rarely sees a proper mage in the Empire.”

The duke then asked with a serious expression,

“So, since you’ve chosen to attend tonight, does that mean you intend to support Princess Roberta in the political struggle to come?”

“If you want a proper answer, it would be better for you to show your hand first.”

“It’s because, depending on your decision, the Empire may have room to reconsider its own stance.”

“To that extent?”

The Empire would decide who to make the next monarch based on my intentions?

When I looked at him skeptically, the duke changed his words.

“Well, we merely intend to take it under advisement… Still, I think you underestimate yourself.”

“In any case, it seems a bit early to be having that conversation. Your Grace didn’t come here intending to support the second princess either, did you?”

“That’s true. I came simply to see you. And of course, for this as well.”

The duke secretly downed another glass of green liqueur while his secretary wasn’t looking.

I said,

“I’m the same. Not everyone who came here tonight will necessarily be absorbed into Princess Roberta’s camp.”

“I see. A wise answer to a foolish question. I’d like to invite you to our embassy soon. I’d enjoy having a serious discussion with you. What do you say?”

“I’d be glad to.”

The duke occasionally acted like an immature boy, but that was merely a mask he put on when it suited him.

In the end, he was the Empire’s ambassador.

A man who would not hesitate to seize the opportunity, should the Laurencia Kingdom falter, to lure away useful talent.

Smack!

“Gah! Why did you hit me?”

“You just had another drink, didn’t you? I saw it.”

“I told you not to do this in public. What kind of secretary casually smacks a duke on the back? At this rate, I’ll end up bruised because of you.”

“If you keep this up, I’ll report everything to your fiancée back home. …By the way, what are you doing crouched down like that?”

“I’m picking up the dignity I dropped on the floor.”

“Honestly, what am I supposed to do with you?”

…Is it really just a mask? Or is he genuinely that immature?

In any case—

“Then I’ll look forward to your invitation, Your Grace.”

“Good, good. It’s refreshing to speak with someone who understands. One last word of advice. I’ve heard you’ve had a rather difficult time being named a suspect in this terrorist incident simply because you’re a mage. If the kingdom treats you unfairly, come to me anytime. A mage of your caliber would always be welcome in the Empire.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh dear, someone’s been glaring at me from over there for quite some time. It seems I’ve monopolized you long enough. I should really be on my way.”

Waving his hand, Duke Karl Gosling headed toward where the next glass awaited him.

And from the direction he had indicated, someone else began walking toward me.

It was a familiar face.

A man with neatly groomed light brown hair and an intelligent, pleasant appearance.

Camille Sapin.

As soon as the Empire’s ambassador had left, the Karaf ambassador came looking for me.

That was unexpected.

Karaf’s mages were known to be politically dull and to shy away from entangling themselves in stuff like this, so I never expected Ambassador Camille to seek me out here.

“Baron Winslet, it is truly a pleasure to see you. Have you been well in the meantime?”

“I’ve had no particular troubles.”

To be honest, I had returned to my family estate and ended up fighting both a demon and a dragon at the same time, so there had been plenty of trouble…but that was my answer for now.

Camille addressed me with a courteous demeanor.

“Thank you once again for helping Miss Shannon the other day. As a token of my gratitude, I have brought you some information that may prove useful, Baron.”

“Information that may be useful?”

“Indeed. As the matter is quite urgent, I was unable to formally request a private audience and instead came to you here. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. Speak.”

“Venizelos has dispatched an assassin from the Tower. It appears the target is Baron Winslet. I suspect he bears a grudge over the matter concerning Miss Shannon Quinlivan.”

“……”

It was perfectly late news.

Is this man, by any chance, rather slow when it comes to information?