"Of all titles, a Margrave?"
Among the frontier lords—already difficult for the central authority to interfere with—a Margrave is the master of the single most crucial territory.
Because of the importance of the lands under his charge, the taxes he pays to the Imperial family are light, and restrictions on his standing army are virtually nonexistent. He is an all-powerful authority.
In rank, he is only a count, but the actual military force he can possess is no exaggeration to say it rivals that of a marquis or higher—that is what a Margrave is.
Because of that power and the difficulty of exerting control over such a position, it is a title the Imperial family would never bestow unless the house in question was one they truly trusted.
Why give it to me, of all people?
Even if he had saved the Emperor's beloved son, wasn't this excessive?
Even factoring in Lucian's potential and the trust placed in the Valdeck Grand Ducal House, it was far from sufficient justification for offering him the title of Margrave.
"You look like you don't understand why I'm making this offer," the Emperor said.
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
At the Emperor's teasing words, Lucian flinched and hastily bowed his head.
Seeing Lucian's flustered reaction, the Emperor let out a small laugh.
"Don't take it so heavily. It's not that I have no ulterior motives, but it isn't a scheme either. As I said earlier, I'm someone who believes there's nothing that should be taken for granted between a sovereign and his subject."
The Emperor stopped laughing and opened his mouth with a serious expression.
"Unconditional loyalty isn't something that doesn't exist in reality, but for the most part it belongs to fairy tales. If a sovereign fails to reward a subject's achievements, he loses that subject's loyalty, and if a subject fails to resolve the sovereign's affairs, he loses the sovereign's trust."
So whether sovereign or subject, if one fails to fulfill one's duties, one has no right to resent being cast aside by the other.
It simply means one failed to meet even the minimum requirements for a sovereign–subject relationship.
"The same goes for schemes. When a sovereign orders a subject to do something, he should assign the mission openly and then grant a reward commensurate with the results. Forcing someone into a situation where they have no choice but to comply is a betrayal of the trust between ruler and subject. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Indeed, Your words are most correct."
Lucian found himself nodding without realizing it.
Among the countless schemes that surfaced in times of chaos, the most insidious of all was ostentatious 'favor.'
Feigning generosity by granting land only to plant someone on the very front lines, or bestowing a treasure as a "reward" that would earn the hatred of a powerful house—
many rulers had wrapped malice in the guise of goodwill, elevating themselves while driving others into untenable positions.
Used against a rival ruler, it's certainly a strategy that kills two birds with one stone. The problem is that quite a few of them pulled the same trick on their own subjects or allies…
The reasons varied.
From deliberate plans to discard someone once they were no longer useful, to the thief's mentality of wanting to dump troublesome burdens onto others without suffering any loss oneself.
But regardless of the reason, the result of such conduct only plunged the chaotic age into even deeper disorder.
Betrayals and insurrections multiplied to a degree incomparable to before.
By this point, Lucian felt he roughly understood what the Emperor was getting at.
"So, in exchange for granting me the position of Margrave, there is something you wish of me."
"Two things, in fact."
"If it would not be improper, may I ask what they are?"
"Recently, the North has been unsettled."
At the mention of the North, Lucian's eyes widened.
After all, wasn't his maternal family the Grimaldi Ducal House of the North?
As if confirming Lucian's thoughts, the Emperor nodded and continued.
"The North has long been a place beyond the firm reach of Imperial control. It's distant and barren, and its culture has always been strongly martial. Even so, it has maintained reasonably good relations with the Imperial family until now. The Imperial family rarely interfered in the North, and the North, in turn, accepted its incorporation into the Empire without resistance."
Lucian knew the uncomfortable truth hidden behind the Emperor's words, but he chose not to voice it.
It was a truth that would benefit neither the Imperial family nor the North if spoken aloud.
Seeing Lucian quietly nod, the Emperor continued.
"However, circumstances have changed of late. As forces that threaten the Empire rampage about, the North has inevitably been affected as well."
"Is the North attempting to break free of Imperial rule?"
"Not quite. More precisely, they're waging territorial wars among themselves while the Imperial family's attention is diverted elsewhere. They're trying to devour one another and expand their power."
Territorial wars between lords were precisely the kind of thing the Imperial family hated most.
No matter how the outcome turned out, the victor would absorb the defeated and grow larger.
For that reason, when the Imperial family was in a stable position, territorial wars were never permitted.
After all, who would willingly allow the rise of a great lord capable of threatening the Imperial family?
The problem is that right now, the Imperial family doesn't have the luxury to personally step in and dissuade every territorial war in the North. If handled poorly, it could provoke backlash against the throne itself, making intervention all the more difficult.
"Are you saying you intend to entrust control of the North to me, rather than to the Imperial family?"
"Precisely."
The Emperor smiled broadly and met Lucian's gaze.
"I hear your maternal family was the Grimaldi Ducal House. Weren't they once the royal house of the North, a family with a history even longer than that of the Imperial family itself?"
"At present, they are a house that vanished along with my maternal grandfather, the last head of the family."
"Even so, as the grandson, you possess the right to restore the house. None of the people of the North would be able to deny your authority, nor that of House Grimaldi."
Lucian could roughly grasp the Emperor's intent now.
If Lucian, the son of Grand Duke Sigmund, were to take control of the North, the Imperial family would surely be able to breathe easier.
Compared to a native of the North, Lucian stood far closer to the Imperial family—and if the restoration of his maternal house depended heavily on Imperial support, that dependence would only deepen all the more.
Even taking that into account, the title of Margrave was still excessive.
There had to be another, far more important reason.
"I understand Your Majesty's intentions. Then what is the other reason?"
At Lucian's question, the Emperor, unlike before, failed to answer readily and hesitated for a long while.
As Lucian waited in silence, the Emperor's lips finally parted, heavy with restraint.
"Once you become a Margrave, would you be willing to make an official declaration of support for my son… Claude?"
…
As expected.
A bitter smile rose unbidden to his face.
Stabilizing the North was merely a bonus—the true purpose was to build a personal power base.
Having seen Lucian's performance in this war, it seemed the Emperor wanted him stationed at his son's side.
"I admit that Claude is not particularly reliable at present. But I ask that you remember this: people are beings that grow."
"Of course, I know that well. There is an old saying in the North that even the smallest grass snake, given enough time, can become a mighty dragon."
"A fine saying. Just as you say."
The Emperor smiled in satisfaction at Lucian's words.
In truth, the saying meant that leaving an enemy alone while it is weak can lead to grave regret later—but there was no need to point that out.
"However, Your Majesty, though I am deeply honored, I must refuse that proposal."
"What?"
At Lucian's rebuttal, the Emperor found himself at a loss for words.
Considering the temperament of the North, it was an argument with merit.
"Lastly, if the First Imperial Prince himself does not look kindly upon me, then even if I were to swear loyalty first, it would be of no use. This may be an irreverent thing to say, but I wish to be used by someone who truly wants me."
"Heh heh heh."
Struck squarely at a sore point, the Emperor gave a bitter smile and let out a long sigh.
"Yes… you're right. What use is it to hand over a fine sword if its wielder only leaves it gathering dust in a storeroom? My apologies. It seems I misspoke."
Quite apart from his desire to bolster his son's power, the Emperor himself seemed well aware of Claude's shortcomings.
Even so, unable to abandon his last shred of hope, he looked at Lucian with an expression filled with earnest longing.
At Lucian's refusal, the Emperor's eyes widened.
It wasn't so much that he was offended by the rejection itself—he simply couldn't believe that Lucian had brushed aside the position of Margrave.
For the first time, the Emperor lost his composure and spoke urgently.
"Do you truly understand what I'm offering you? What I proposed is none other than the title of Margrave."
"Of course I know how immense the authority of a Margrave is. However, I have not yet abandoned my claim as my father's successor. I have not even fully demonstrated my abilities—how could I flee simply because I fear competition?"
Lucian spoke with words that were half falsehood, half truth, attempting to persuade the Emperor.
In truth, he had no particular ambition to showcase his own prowess, but the right of succession to the Valdeck Grand Ducal House was more important to him than anything else.
So long as he did not relinquish that right, it could be used as an all-purpose justification adaptable to countless situations in this age of chaos.
No matter how tempting the title of Margrave was, it was far too wasteful to give up such a convenient source of legitimacy.
"And no matter how much authority I may hold as a descendant of the Grimaldi Ducal House, the entirety of the North will not accept me so readily. A certain degree of force would be necessary to back it up—and I do not possess that force."
"Then I can support you, can't I?"
"As Your Majesty said, the North is a region with a strong martial spirit. Even if one need not rule solely by one's own strength, if I were seen openly relying on Your Majesty's support, no one would acknowledge me."
"Hm."
"Yet even the smallest grass snake, given enough time, can become a mighty dragon. Isn't that so?"
"That is exactly as you say."
"This has been a truly enlightening conversation. I would like to speak with you again someday. Even if I greet you familiarly then, don't take offense."
The Emperor laughed, deliberately joking as brightly as he could.
Sensing the forced cheer, as if he were trying to shake off his unease, Lucian returned the smile and bowed his head.
For an Imperial family already beginning to tilt toward decline, all he could do was conceal the bleak future ahead.
***
After confirming that the allied forces had withdrawn far enough from the borderlands into a secure region, the Emperor summoned the lords once more and spoke.
"Now that things seem safe, I believe I'll return to the Imperial Palace with my sons. By protocol, you should all visit the capital once to receive formal commendations and rewards before dispersing, but I don't think that will be necessary this time."
At the Emperor's words, the other lords nodded.
The battle itself had been far too brief, and most of them bore nothing but responsibility for defeat.
The only one who had truly earned merit was Lucian, who had rescued the First Imperial Prince—but even that was difficult to publicize openly.
If the details spread too widely, Claude's foolishness would become equally well known, tarnishing the dignity of the Imperial family.
What had already happened could not be hidden, but there was no need to gather everyone just to air such shameful matters. Disbanding here was the best course.
"I can only apologize to you, who rendered distinguished service. You ought to be rewarded, yet circumstances have turned out this way. I will be sure to compensate you separately at a later time."
"Just hearing those words is more than enough."
Lucian answered the Emperor's apology with genuine sincerity.
Simply having the Emperor acknowledge his merits and personally spread word of them was, in itself, enough to accomplish his purpose in coming here.
Still, the Emperor reiterated his promise of future recompense several times before finally turning to leave.
After gathering the First Imperial Prince, the Second Imperial Prince, the Imperial soldiers, and the Crimson Wing Knights, the Emperor raised his voice and shouted.
"The master of the Azure Path calls you—come!
By the covenant, you are summoned—come!
By the blood of the dragon, you are summoned—come!"
…?
The lords exchanged uneasy looks at the bizarre spectacle.
What in the world was that supposed to be?
Fwoooosh—
"Gasp—!?"
"A circle… in midair…!"
The lords recoiled in shock, staring at the enormous circle that now connected this place to somewhere else entirely.
Lucian, too, was taken aback by the grand magic he had never seen before, but the First and Second Imperial Princes looked even more stunned than he did.
Did even the princes not know about this?
"Move quickly! The path won't remain open for long!"
As Lucian stood there in disbelief, the Emperor shouted at the stunned soldiers.
Led by the knight order, the Imperial troops scrambled and ran toward the far side of the opened circle.
Fortunately, the space beyond was extremely wide, so it didn't take long for the soldiers to pass through.
When the last soldier threw himself into the circle, the violently trembling ring abruptly shrank.
Shraaak—
Even after the space closed with a sound like a water balloon bursting, the lords remained dazed for quite some time.
Some of them even went over to where the circle had been and reached out, feeling at the empty air themselves.
Marquis Bernhardt looked at the spot where the Emperor had departed and murmured as if to himself,
"I wondered how His Majesty arrived so quickly—so this was how."
"Hm."
A low groan escaped from the mouths of the noble faction, led by the marquis.
The fact that the Imperial family had been hiding such formidable power was clearly a tremendous shock to them.
As everyone fell silent, Lucian stepped forward and addressed the lords.
"Then, as His Majesty has said, let us disperse now. I will be returning to Kelheim. I wish you all a safe journey home."
With those brief words, Lucian led the soldiers of House Valdeck and withdrew from the allied forces.
The annulment of the Grand Pact and the defeat had left the atmosphere heavy for most, but Lucian was the exception.
After all, he could be called the sole victor of this war.
Excellent. I gained far more than I expected.
Through this war, Lucian had demonstrated prophetic foresight by predicting the collapse of the Grand Pact, crushed the marquis who was an enemy of the grand ducal house with sheer authority, and saved the life of the First Imperial Prince.
If even half of these stories spread, there would be no one on the continent who did not know Lucian's name.
On top of that, he had forged a personal connection with the Emperor—nothing could have been better.
Best of all, I showed only opposition to the First Imperial Prince while still reaping all the benefits. I wonder what expressions the other brothers and their wives will make.
Throughout this war, Lucian had never been grouped together with Claude.
Rather, he had openly opposed him by pointing out his foolishness and earned his resentment for it.
By saving the First Imperial Prince, he gained fame, yet at the same time eliminated any room for misunderstanding that he supported him.
What would the brothers who had avoided involvement with the First Imperial Prince say when they heard this news?
Lucian suppressed the upward curl of his lips and headed toward Kelheim.
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