Chapter 191

The maid, whether she liked it or not, was in a position where she had to know all of her employer’s secrets, and Vinea, who was Jeilliris’s direct maid, was no exception.

There were times when she felt like she might lose her mind, peering into countless secrets every day that could stir a storm in the Empire’s political landscape if just one was revealed.

The most shocking secret she had recently learned was that the ongoing explosion incidents were not the work of a mad mage but rather the infiltration of the Infiltrators, and that Duke Valenciaunos was concealing this fact in order to proceed with the scheduled loyalty pledge.

“Oh, God of Radiance.”

Of course, the emperor she served was not an ordinary person either.

It was not common thinking to continue using the maid of the late emperor whom he had killed with his own hands.

However, looking at Jeilliris, who shone brightly like a detailed oil painting sketched on charcoal, made her feel that such things were of little concern.

Jeilliris wore an aura that made one think, “Whatever she does, it makes sense.”

In contrast, Valenciaunos carried an aura that made one think, “There must have been another way.”

Vinea, a court noble among court nobles, recognized that aura was artificially created.

She felt this realization sharpen recently when she learned that Valenciaunos had killed Marquess Gremoryus and placed his granddaughter on the marquisate.

Valenciaunos appeared gloomy, seemingly suffering from guilt, while Jeilliris comforted him with a cheerful laugh.

“If I had gone away, I would have reduced the capital’s population by two-thirds before starting any conversations.”

Vinea did not believe everything in this world was relative.

There were lines that should not be crossed in this world.

It was hard to explain in words, but clearly, the God of Radiance had discerned good and evil in this world.

Giving a large loaf of bread was a better act than giving a small one; however, giving a small loaf of bread was not worse than giving a large one.

Giving a small stab was not better than giving a large one either.

But if losing an arm could be avoided by merely nicking the skin at the fingertips, then people thought it was a blessing and moved on.

Vinea could remain calm in front of the new Marquess Gremoryus.

“That must be Grace.”

Though her height was average, her black hair that fell to her waist shone with the luster of ebony.

The candlelight reflected off her hair, giving off a soft orange glow.

Her irises were brown, wise and kind, but somehow emitted an incomprehensible strange atmosphere.

Certainly, Vinea herself was a high noble of heterogeneous race, so that aura must be something she shared as well.

That incomprehensible aura reflected the part of her ancestors that valued the happiness of the wise over gold, black iron, and immense fortresses.

Her face was pale, with a somewhat timid impression, yet there was a dignity befitting a high noble.

She wore a black iron crown, and Grace was the first to appear before Jeilliris in a crown.

With her arrogant yet dignified demeanor, one might expect her outfit to be extravagant, but surprisingly, it was quite simple.

Grace wore a dress that featured no embellishments of harmony, jewels, or lace, but rather a gradient that faded from black at the top to white at the bottom, showcasing a restrained elegance.

She fidgeted with her sleeves as if it were a habit, and the faint scars hinted at some troubling past.

Vinea hoped that the troubling event was not related to Valenciaunos.

* * *

“Your Majesty, Emperor of Solentarass, the Marquess of Gremoryus presents her respects.”

Grace Kimmelion Gremoryus bowed her head to Jeilliris.

The Emperor offered her a seat, and the two sat facing each other at opposite ends of a rectangular table.

Their conversation flowed as a dialogue between an emperor and a high noble would.

“If we build a free trade city, we will need to transport goods using the canal, but if the Imperial Court imposes tolls at this gateway, it will harm our family. Since the customs fees at the Imperial Court have been abolished, please exempt us from the tolls here.”

“Very well. I grant it.”

Grace made her demands within the bounds of propriety, and Jeilliris nodded while consulting the administrative officers.

Neither appeared comfortable in their seats.

The Emperor did not like those who did not bow before him, and Grace was aware that it was the Emperor who commanded Valenciaunos to kill her grandfather.

Vinea watched as the court officials and foreign ministers fidgeted much more than yesterday, stealing glances at the two.

Elder statesmen who had served the Imperial Court for decades and could make elite bureaucrats tremble with just a wave of their hand were now nervously biting their nails and pacing restlessly.

Amid the tense atmosphere that seemed likely to erupt, the meal continued until Jeilliris wore a sadistic smile.

“Your Majesty!”

“Oh my.”

Vinea noticed the blank stares of the two ministers.

The only person who could stop the Emperor with that look so far had been Valenciaunos, pleading with sincere supplication.

“Marquess. I’ve heard that the Elder Brother has spoken disrespectfully to you.”

Jeilliris’s bright voice echoed in the garden.

Grace stiffened her face and nodded.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Regardless of the facts, it was indeed a rude remark.”

“I could apologize on my behalf after hearing the details. Would you tell me what it was?”

Grace looked at Jeilliris.

As her gaze slid down from the platinum hair to the long fingers of the Emperor adorned with rings, Grace opened her mouth.

“Are you also hiding your emotions, Your Majesty?”

“No. I have always behaved as I wished.”

“I would like to do the same.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Jeilliris squinted in surprise.

For a high noble, “as desired” usually hinted at indulgence and hedonism.

However, Grace’s attire not only lacked extravagance, but was also close to the modesty of a widow.

“If I were to live merely doing what must be done, suppressing and enduring my emotions and desires, then what would be the meaning of this noble blood, authority, and talent?”

“Hmm.”

“The biggest difference between us and the peasants below is that we can live our lives greatly respecting our emotions, I believe.”

Yet gradually, Grace’s dry voice began to heat up.

“For me, that emotion was nothing but sorrow.”

Jeilliris exhaled as if she had just taken a hit.

“I wish to steep myself in sorrow, to cry until I collapse from exhaustion, and to scream until a fortress echoes with my cries. I want everyone to know just how sorrowful I am and to acknowledge it all.”

But, starting her sentences with “However,” the high noble of black iron continued.

“Sorrow is not a bad emotion, but sorrow can easily turn into anger. High nobles may declare war, but they must do so not in anger but in calculating reason, so how can I afford to cry?”

“……”

“The Elder Brother was someone who managed his emotions well. He became angry when necessary and joyful when he wished. In some sense, he was brutally honest.”

* * *

Vinea interpreted the humble smile that appeared on Grace’s face in two ways.

Honesty.

What she had just said applied to both Valenciaunos’s loyalty and his wicked misdeeds.

It was saying not that one was inherent, but rather that one’s nature could be altered according to necessity.

“How fortunate you are, Your Majesty, to be able to act as you please… I envy your ability to grieve.”

There was no hint of sarcasm in Grace’s tone.

“There has been little discussion about the Elder Brother. Please forgive me for straying off-topic.”

But it was far too rude an assertion to make to the Emperor.

As the foreign minister’s expression changed by the second, Jeilliris smiled nobly and replied.

“Very well, I forgive you. It seems you are already nearing self-loathing, so what more could I say?”

Vinea doubted her ears.

“Did I hear that correctly?”

No matter how powerful an emperor was, it was an incredibly rude comment to make to a vassal who had come to pledge loyalty.

“Marquess Grace. Sorrow is not something you always feel. It comes when you enjoy a feast, when you wield a sword, when you deliberate on state affairs, piercing your heart like an invisible dagger before you go to bed. Those moments are painful, but… they will eventually pass.”

The Emperor smiled like a solitary portrait completed in a sketch of black and white.

“I have heard you purged all your siblings. It is not an easy task to eliminate all kin after a grandparent’s demise. However, it is not impossible. I know from experience.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Even if you suffer for an hour a day, your heart will beat for the glory and dreams of your family for the remaining 23 hours. And during that one hour, you would surely despise the 23 hours of yourself.”

“Have you… experienced that?”

The Emperor did not answer outright, continuing instead.

“I wish to fully experience sorrow. That’s a noble thought. Yet humans are complicated… you can laugh while slicing off your arm in pain, and when consuming the sap of thorny berry bushes, you may feel joyful morning connections only to sink into despair by night.”

Those were words once spoken by her other half.

“Behave like a noble. Control your emotions, savor each dish in the feast, and do not indulge in self-reproach. You are a high noble, and you are only accountable before me and the God of Radiance. You too… do not deserve to judge yourself.”

A heavy silence followed.

Vinea, along with the two ministers, trembled, waiting for the banquet to end.

To interpret the Emperor’s words somewhat roughly, they ultimately implied “offer your loyalty.”

Time flowed on until Grace paused just before rising from her seat.

“This too shall pass, right?”

“Indeed. It must vanish, it must change, it must transform.”

“But some things do not pass.”

“Then we can split it in half.”

The Emperor answered with a languid smile.

Grace turned her body while bowing slightly.

Vinea felt that expression was, oddly enough, freeing.

As if she had made up her mind.

* * *

In Bishop Hong Argos’s office, the Saint and Argos engaged in a lengthy conversation.

“Argos, we do not need to interfere in secular politics. This is something we must do out of righteous fury before the God of Radiance.”

Matheos protested, his stern face contorting, but the elderly man with a severe look stood firm.

“Saint, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“I consider the Imperial Court a danger, but I do not see Duke Valenciaunos as an enemy who must be eliminated.”

“Duke Valenciaunos may think otherwise of you, Saint.”

The reason these two highest-ranking clergy were arguing was due to a single letter.

[Dear Saint, Duke Valenciaunos is concealing the existence of the Infiltrators.]

[He obscures the Emperor’s sight for his own power, controlling all information to cover up his blunders. The newspaper and the assembly members have already fallen under his sway.]

[As a devout believer, I, Marcus, cannot allow actions that endanger the local nobility and 500,000 citizens who have come to the capital.]

[When I act, please condemn Duke Valenciaunos, and issue statements of support for us from the Church. We need the backing of the capital’s citizens.]

Marcus had reached out to the Church of Radiance, and the Church faced a decisive moment.

Argos implored the saint urgently.

“The officials who have been threatened by the ruffian are regaining their composure. Saint, we must pass the legislation. We cannot allow secular rulers to test the power of the Infiltrators at will.”

“That is…”

“I also know what kind of person the Ironblood Party Leader is. You need not grasp his hand, Saint. It’s simply better to be two rather than one.”

Argos’s passionate speech wavered Matheos’s gaze.

“With such power… one must compromise to change the world.”

“…….”

Eventually, he hardened his expression, befitting the ‘Black Saint.’

“Yes. I shall do it. Please summon him for the Mass.”