Chapter 121

Could the children have taken drugs, perhaps?

This was the suspicion that arose in the Emperor’s mind. If not for drugs, there was no way his daughters would utter such insane nonsense.

Still, reluctant as he was to suspect his own children, it was now the most plausible hypothesis. It seemed that Alan Medoff had given the princesses drugs.

Otherwise, there was no reason for them to act so bizarrely.

Especially Victoria.

“Imperial Majesty, I’ve persuaded Siena.”

“Hold your tongue…!”

He never imagined a day would come when he would have to yell at his ever-reliable eldest daughter.

What was worse was that Victoria ignored his commands.

Her elegant appearance and composed demeanor were unchanged from before her maternal relatives were burned at the stake. Yet, the words escaping her mouth were utterly absurd.

“Siena didn’t sincerely suggest sending Sir Alan to the Empire. She was simply feeling momentarily hurt because Sir Alan had resigned from the Royal Knights after becoming engaged to me. What woman would willingly send the man she loves away to the East?”

“Silence, Victoria.”

“Apologies, but I cannot obey right now.”

“…….”

“So, I’ve decided to compromise. There’s a proposal made by the esteemed Maternal Majesty, and I’ve decided to accept it for the stability of the Imperial Court. And through this decision, I was able to gain Siena’s cooperation as well.”

The Emperor wanted to shout for her to stop, but his voice choked, and nothing came out.

In the end, he had no choice but to hear the horrifying announcement.

“I will become engaged to Sir Alan along with Siena.”

“A—”

“I understand how unprecedented this is. It’s strange enough that a member of a fallen family is being considered as a son-in-law. Let alone for me and Siena together… certainly, there will be controversy.”

“Yes, surely it will be a subject of ridicule…”

“No, no one will have the courage to ridicule either me or Sir Alan.”

Victoria rebutted with firm determination.

Even Edmund III couldn’t find fault with this.

Indeed, who could dare to ridicule? The man who manipulated the youngest Master and was then locked away in the penalty brigade, the one who single-handedly dismantled the Elf society — who in their right mind would dare to mock him marrying the two Imperial Princesses? If anything, there might be some who’d gasp in shock, but none would dare to dare show it.

Still, the Emperor couldn’t shake the suspicion that Victoria had taken drugs.

‘How could someone in their right mind even think of such a thing?’

At this point, Victoria gave a short sigh while looking at the Emperor with an expression that revealed something even more surprising: compassion directed at her father.

“Imperial Majesty, I know this must pain you.”

“Are you calling that ‘words’?…”

“I was deeply saddened when my uncles were tied to the pyre. But at that very moment, Sir Alan was there for me. That day… I decided. To usher in the golden age of the Empire with this man.”

“…….”

“Without external interference, we will ensure clean bureaucrats who are committed to their duties, and we will create a nation where even commoners live with at least a modicum of prosperity. To achieve this grand goal, I’ve chosen to include Siena. This isn’t a petty love triangle.”

Victoria was confessing her fervent loyalty to both her father and the Empire in front of him. Though her clarity in this matter was unmistakable, the distinction between Alan and the Empire was blurred.

The Emperor, feeling a surge of confusion, turned his head.

His gaze fell upon his second daughter, Siena.

Unlike Victoria, whose words carried an unsettling madness, Siena sat quietly and cutely, resembling a child satisfied with candy.

‘Oddly enough, she almost seems normal now.’

The Emperor decided to place his last hope in Siena. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what this hope was for anymore, but he resolved to hang onto it.

He couldn’t allow both his daughters to become engaged to Alan.

“Siena, are you alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… hah. Would you be able to share the man you… love with your sister?” The Emperor stumbled briefly on the word “love” but corrected himself quickly. “I’m not talking about decorum. You never cared for decorum anyway. Would you simply be able to… tolerate it?”

“Dad.”

“Yes?”

“If you really must send Alan to the Empire, then do so. It was my original suggestion, after all. …However, I will tell you what will happen when you get rid of Alan. It might tire you, so I’ll make it as brief as possible.”

The Emperor faltered momentarily at these words.

In a calm tone, Siena delivered her warning:

“If Alan leaves, I’ll focus entirely on business.”

“What?”

“Alan can’t possibly run Medoff Pharmaceuticals from the Empire, can he? So, I intend to take over its management. Alan has been teaching me the methods for quite a while. Extraction solvents… well, let’s skip the explanations. Just consider this one point.”

“What is it?”

“Would it be better for me to manage the company, or for Alan to do it?”

What was she talking about?

The Emperor briefly felt puzzled.

But soon enough, he realized what Siena was implying and let out a bitter laugh. If Alan were sent to the Empire, she would dedicate herself entirely to the narcotics trade, with no intention of exercising the restraint that Alan might.

In essence, it was a threat: if Alan were sent away, the entire Empire would be flooded with drugs.

“…Hah.”

The Emperor sighed, a wave of frustration washing over him.

All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind.

Alan Medoff should have been eliminated long ago. He shouldn’t have been restrained but rather recruited. When Alan had demonstrated his abilities while treating the Empress, perhaps he should have been set up with a small greenhouse and left to grow mushrooms as a farmer. Alternatively…

He should have just been left alone.

It was useless to regret it now.

With a groan, the Emperor covered his face with his hands.

Neither daughter, nor the Empress, who initially made the wild suggestion, pushed for an immediate answer. Their clear minds, untouched by any substances, were clear enough to recognize his distress. At this point, it was difficult to tell who was truly sane.

“Shall we bring some wine?”

The Emperor declined.

It seemed alcohol wouldn’t provide any solace now.

***

Somehow, it was already dawn.

Even now, a whole platoon of the imperial guard was stationed outside my apartment. It wasn’t a private house but a three-story apartment building commonly inhabited by young officials and knights.

While I enjoyed a good night’s sleep, some of the neighbors may have spent the night staring out their windows, worried.

‘Soon, they’ll call for me.’

While waiting, I picked up some letters to read as a pastime.

Hundreds of letters I hadn’t had time to read due to being busy.

Most of them were asking for money.

Content requesting donations from noble-run shelters and disability homes, pitches for lucrative business plans asking for investment, or requests to help acquire land where certain herbs grow naturally in exchange for a finder’s fee.

I skimmed through them without much thought until one caught my eye.

A letter bearing the Medoff family seal.

The sender was…

“Andrew Medoff.”

My father—specifically, the father of the body I possessed.

Although we hadn’t met directly since the transference, I knew who he was.

The head of the Medoff family, Andrew Medoff, resided in one of the remotest corners of the Longkenny Prefecture, one of the most underdeveloped regions in the Empire.

Honestly, just a wealthy farmer. The estate wasn’t particularly thriving either.

But he was a man of admirable character.

Unlike the many nobles who would exploit local peasants without proper authority, the Medoff family instead established a communal grain storage facility using private funds, ensuring the entire village benefited.

Drugs like morphine and heroin were likely unimaginable to him.

Yet, his letter was laced with fear.

The cause, of course, was me. I had informed the family that I might become engaged to Victoria, so they wouldn’t be caught by surprise.

But instead of appreciating my forewarning, it seemed they were terrified.

…You sold some strange herbs and made 1 million talers long ago, I’ve heard. And each time I visited the capital, I’ve encountered strange rumors. Even a major visited our village. You must stop seducing the esteemed princess such a way. I refrained from interfering until now, assuming it was within your jurisdiction, but now I cannot let this continue.

Clearly, the family suspected I had used underhanded methods to ensnare the illustrious princess.

There were numerous other discrepancies from the truth in the letter.

The 1 million talers, while a large sum, was the price for supplying 1 kilogram of morphine. The major who visited the village was part of the Wolphall family, already purged along with others.

The head of the family, naturally ignorant of central affairs, wrote with sincere concern.

But one particular line caught my eye:

“Would it not be wise to abandon your excessive ambition and return home? Leading a quiet life farming the land would not be so bad.”

This.

It was the first time someone had told me to curb my excessive ambition.

Even including my past life.

Previously, the people who suffered because of my father viewed me as either his cashier or his right-hand man. My mother’s colleagues suspected I was acting on someone else’s orders when targeting my father.

Even later, after my mother faced legal issues, people approached me out of necessity. Someone once asked me to perform emergency surgery on a candidate for re-election, trusting that I could accomplish such a task.

Admittedly, I had given them cause to believe so.

Back then, I was bewildered and aggrieved, but reflecting calmly in this life, my perspective has changed.

I’ve started to understand how my actions, carried out thoughtlessly in pursuit of a comfortable life, were perceived by others.

‘Yet, retiring to the countryside…’

To have someone suggest this, for the first time, felt oddly touching.

But responding to this thoughtful recommendation was impossible.

After reading the family’s letter:

“Sir Alan. Did you cough?”

A voice called me from outside.

When I went out, I saw a palace steward. Not just any steward but one of high rank—though not the Chief Steward, he was still an official from the Protocol Office. He hadn’t come alone, accompanied by several attendants, all visibly tense.

An order followed.

“Please prepare your formal attire and come with us immediately. You must enter the palace right away.”

It seemed the decision regarding my position had finally been made.

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