After a moment, he answered honestly, “Your Highness, compelling Viscount Laval to tax is indeed a deed that harms your reputation. But…you used that money to support the Border Count’s campaign against bandits in Grey Mist Cape, saving more lives of the Kingdom’s people. You are not purely a villain, but neither are you a benevolent ruler.”
“Yes.”
Charlie gave a self-deprecating smile and tossed the decree back onto the desk.
“This world is never black and white. Governing a country is especially so. My sister believes that if the nobles willingly hand over their wealth for the state to distribute, the country will be fairer. But if I actually do that, why do they suddenly panic?”
His tone dripped with sarcasm: “The Noble Swordsmen want to seize the wealth of the Robe Nobles, and the Robe Nobles side with my sister. At heart, they all want the same thing. They preach righteousness, but their minds are full of filthy calculations.”
“Does the Laval family’s money come clean? No trade is without deceit! Haven’t they oppressed the commoners? It’s a joke! Every crow is black! Why am I alone branded a tyrant? Just because I let them keep talking?”
Listening to the prince’s complaints, Reynault could only offer comfort.
“Your Highness, you are simply…too impatient.”
“Impatient?”
Charlie’s gaze sharpened, the icy flame burning in his eyes.
“How can I not be impatient?! This country is on the brink of collapse! My sister doesn’t realize the threat of the Empire! She thinks conflicts between nations can be resolved through dialogue?”
His voice rose with emotion.
“She’s never dealt with those damned Imperials! Those barbarians only respect fists! Only power!”
“Look at my father! He’s probably planning some earth-shattering conspiracy to overturn the Kingdom! Why did he court Border Count Friedrich? He handed me military power but secretly raised generals loyal to himself…”
Charlie’s brow furrowed, his words laced with doubt.
“Your Highness!”
Reynault’s heart tightened, forcing himself to interrupt, “Some things should not be speculated upon rashly! You are a subject; His Majesty is the king! You only need to fulfill your duty as a servant. That crown will eventually be yours.”
“Your sister may find another path, but it’s no less thorny. Cooperation between you and Princess Charlotte is the Kingdom’s best hope.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?”
Charlie glared coldly at Reynault, his eyes seeming to penetrate souls.
“But, Reynault, what if…those behind me, those ‘Noble Swordsmen,’ want to push me to that position?”
“…That’s…”
Reynault was momentarily speechless.
This was a topic he dared not speak lightly on.
“They have never been truly tamed! They are born with the blood of Emblems for war! They crave battle! Crave true ‘freedom’!”
Charlie took a deep breath, lowering his voice.
“My father has probably realized this.”
Charlie seemed unwilling to continue down this dangerous path and shifted gears.
“Livia von Stern…how strong is her Emblem exactly?”
Reynault immediately withdrew a thin parchment scroll from his chest pouch.
“This is a detailed battle report from our informants in Grey Mist Cape, Your Highness. Please review it.”
Charlie took the report and skimmed it swiftly. Surprise and admiration grew in his icy blue eyes.
When he finished, he couldn’t help but praise sincerely, “Remarkable! She is a true hero.”
“Does Your Highness wish to court her?”
Reynault tentatively asked.
Charlie gave a bitter smile.
“If I could, of course I would. But my father offended many nobles for her sake, granting the Border Count honors and even legitimizing her illegitimate daughter. Winning her over isn’t my move.”
Reynault nodded.
“His Majesty’s actions have indeed set a precedent and stirred strong discontent among the nobles. He must have a profound reason. Miss Livia is likely a key piece in his strategy.”
“You’ve already met her fiancé, Allen de Laval,” Charlie casually shifted to the real subject.
“What do you think of him? Do you believe his playboy image is genuine…or just a façade?”
Images of Allen’s black eyes, seeming to see through everything, and his calm, even mocking demeanor when facing Reynault, flashed in his mind.
Reynault’s voice was grave.
“Your Highness, he is no ordinary man.”
Charlie nodded thoughtfully, fingers tapping the desk unconsciously.
“The Laval family is far more troublesome than I imagined. My father probably initially saw them as just minor nobles.”
He paused, a complex smile creeping onto his lips.
“But among the merchants who become Robe Nobles, which one is harmless?”
Suddenly, as if struck by a revelation, he laughed wryly.
“Maybe Charlotte is right. Without the Emblems, these clever merchants might become the true masters of this country. They create wealth, while those foolish Noble Swordsmen…”
He glanced at the military map on the wall, his tone laced with barely concealed disdain.
“Only know how to throw their riches into the flames of war.”
Charlie sat back down at the desk, regaining the Crown Prince’s composure and decisiveness.
“The Laval family currently owes 300,000 livres, correct?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Reynault answered promptly.
“The majority is for the Royal Central Plaza Project.”
“Why is that payment delayed?”
Charlie pressed.
“The Kingdom’s finance minister is deliberately withholding approval,” Reynault explained.
“He is notoriously greedy, and Viscount Bernard likely offended him by not paying enough ‘tribute’ during the project.”
“Hmph, Charlotte also misjudged people. She let such a man stay in her camp.”
Charlie snorted and then made a decision.
“That Allen is smart. He’s right that the real enemy is elsewhere. As for the intelligence he says Charlotte is interested in, it’s probably bluff.”
He grabbed a quill and quickly wrote a few lines on a note, stamping it with his private seal.
“Tell our men to repay the Laval family the full amount owed, with interest, as soon as possible.”
He handed the note to Reynault.
“Remind them that a truly noble lord cannot disgrace himself by not repaying debts!”
“The Laval family won’t become our friends, but they won’t be Charlotte’s staunch allies either. Keeping them alive seems more advantageous than destroying them—for now.”
“As for Livia von Stern…”
Charlie’s gaze returned to the window.
“She’s still off the board. But once she returns to the capital, she’ll be on it.”
“The Church, the Inquisition, my father, the Border Count…”
Charlie muttered softly, his eyes gleaming with complexity.
“The number of pieces on this board is growing… I’m becoming more and more curious about what’s to come.”
“What has Charlotte been doing recently?” he suddenly asked.
“Your Highness, Saint Norra Emblem Academy will start its new term in September. The Princess is preparing a grand welcome banquet for the freshmen,” Reynault answered.
“Trying to win over the younger generation of nobles…”
Charlie’s lips curved into a meaningful smile.
“Hmph, it seems I’d better attend and show my support as well.”
Silence once again settled over the study.
Charlie’s gaze finally rested back on the thick Scripture on the desk.
He extended his hand, his slender fingers gently caressing the gilded cover with reverence and tenderness.
Sunlight danced across his fingertips through the window.
“Reynault,” Charlie suddenly spoke, his voice filled with a fateful sadness, “this world is really a gigantic pipe organ.”
He lifted his head, icy blue eyes staring into the void, as if piercing through the walls to see a more distant future.
“Its keys can only be played by the Master Himself. All of us are merely the notes pulled by the bellows, dancing unwillingly to the melody He composes.”
Chief spy Reynault de Marco watched the Crown Prince, burdened with half the weight of the kingdom, and suddenly recalled when he was very young, seeing the King Louis XI.
The King, like his son, was weary and pained, yet all-seeing.
He spoke in a low voice: “The grand performance the Master has prepared for this world is about to begin.”