Chapter 108

It was not only an unseemly topic to discuss in the palace, but he also had a hunch that nothing good would come out of getting involved with her. On the other hand, Marquise Lamott, who had by now regained composure during the conversation, held on tenaciously, like a shark that had tasted blood.

“Then do you support the system of concubinage, Baron?”

“I do not believe it is a matter for me to support or oppose. It is a system the empire deems necessary, and that is why it remains in place.”

“But the harms it causes are undeniable. Think about it. The empire at large follows, and the Lex Ardica recognizes, the law of primogeniture. And yet, within the Imperial House, a child’s birthright can be denied depending on circumstance.”

Marquise Lamott, disregarding Eugène’s attempts to gently dissuade her, pressed on and at last gave voice to what she had truly intended to say. It all came down to a single matter. The defense of Prince Sigeber’s right of succession, the firstborn son of Ebroin V.

A dull ache began to gather at Eugène’s temples. He had more or less suspected as much, but hearing it outright only made it more troublesome. The reason he had never allowed himself to let down his guard around Marquise Lamott was because of the precedent set by Viscount Despan.

Unlike Countess Patrí, who until recently had clung stubbornly to dreams of becoming Empress, Marquise Lamott had long since abandoned any attachment to that title. Instead, her growing concern lay with securing the rights of her son. In many ways, this was only natural. She was a woman with no prospect of becoming Empress, but among the concubines, she stood the best chance of becoming the next Emperor’s mother, and thus the closest thing to an Empress Mother.

“That, too, is not a matter I have any right to involve myself in. For your sake, I shall pretend not to have heard that.”

The moment such an unwelcome subject was broached, Eugène’s mood turned cold. He would have liked to cut the conversation off more sharply, but his opponent was not one he could treat so bluntly. Unlike Viscount Despan, Marquise Lamott was a lady worthy of respect and the Emperor’s concubine. He would never allow himself to show her discourtesy.

“You still dislike this topic, I see.”

The effort to maintain a placid expression was not his alone. In fact, she was clearly the more practiced. While Eugène’s gaze had already turned frosty, the Marquise continued to smile as warmly as ever. Her steps remained as elegant as before, the weight of her hand upon his arm unchanged, and the gaze she lifted toward him no less gentle.

“I believe I made my position quite clear when I spoke with Viscount Despan on a similar matter.”

“I had heard of what happened. My brother did apologize for his hastiness and disrespect.”

“A true apology, I believe, lies in not repeating the same offense.”

“Then do you intend to remain neutral in the future as well, Baron Amieux?”

“Neutrality is out of the question. I shall follow His Majesty’s will to the end.”

Eugène dismissed her words firmly. Marquise Lamott, though quietly vexed by his unexpectedly resolute stance, let none of it show. She replied meekly, still all grace.

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dOEJFJt, CJt CJNtm, NI N oOmCJt, mOLz N zfAAJtJym ImOte. VNtUDfIJ uNoOmm ENI yOm NIIJtmfyq mCJ RtfyhJ’I tfqCmI oJtJLe AOt CJt OEy INXJ.

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“I hope this will be the last time we speak on this matter. As I have said before, I have no intention whatsoever of exerting any influence over the decision of succession that lies solely within His Majesty’s authority. Marquise Lamott, you, who have served His Majesty most closely, would know well that he is not the sort of man to grant such presumptuous liberty to a mere vassal.”

“A mere vassal…”

Marquise Lamott repeated his words slowly, then gave a cool smile.

“Are you saying I am now clinging to a mere vassal to plead for support regarding my own child?”

“A most accurate understanding.”

“You underestimate yourself far too much. I had imagined your measure to be greater than that.”

The Marquise’s voice remained composed, but she could not fully conceal the sting in her tone. Her slender hand tightened where it rested on Eugène’s arm, her smooth nails faintly digging into his arm. The pressure was not enough to cause pain, but the quiet anger radiating from that touch left Eugène deeply unsettled. He truly disliked how this was unfolding.

“Marquise.”

If such reckless attempts continued, it was only a matter of time before the Emperor found out. What would she do if she were to fall from his favor? For her sake, Eugène tried once more to offer advice, but unfortunately, it was the Marquise who spoke first.

“If you support my son’s rightful claim to succession, then I shall see to arranging a subrogate marriage for you. Would that be fair?”

At her shocking proposition, Eugène was struck speechless once again. He turned to face the Marquise, his expression hardening to a frightening degree.

“What did you just say?”

He repeated himself, unable to believe his ears.

Subrogate marriage was an unusual form of matrimony popular during the era of the Old Kingdom. It was a long-forgotten custom tied to the faith of Saint Tefylae, and its name derived from the legal termsubroge tuteur, meaning a substitute guardian.

If marriage to a woman was meant to produce an heir by blood, then a subrogate marriage was once said to be a union that gave birth to an heir in spirit. Though there had been a time when the custom flourished, it had long since fallen out of practice.

Unlike conventional marriage, subrogate marriage was always conducted between men. It was a ceremonial union formed between a grown man, already head of a household, and his male lover, closest friend, or most trusted retainer, with the aim of leaving behind a powerful guardian for the heir to come.

It was a peculiar tradition born from a brutal era of constant war, when a widowed woman could not possibly defend her child or household on her own, and for that very reason, it was now regarded merely as an outdated and obsolete custom.

“It is exactly as you heard.”

“That is quite an impertinent jest. To my surprise, you seem unable to discern what should be said and what should not.”

Eugène cut her off coldly. Frankly, he no longer wished to engage further. He could not fathom why she was acting so desperately.

Ebroin V was young, healthy, and more vigorous than any. While one can never truly know a person’s fate, the Emperor was only in his early thirties. Under normal circumstances, there was no reason for anyone’s succession to be questioned for nearly another twenty years or so.

“Why do you take such a serious tone? Even in the early days of the empire, there were occasions when some Eromenos, by virtue of subrogate marriage, attained positions equivalent to that of an Empress. Historically, this is not unprecedented. Even in Kayediv, the proxy heir system still exists to this day, does it not?”

As she said, the proxy heir system, a representative tradition of Kayediv, was a localized variation of the subrogate marriage custom from north of the Yungustin Mountains, and it was still openly practiced.

However, even within Kayediv, voices had begun to rise questioning whether this was an outdated and harmful custom, and there were quite a few who, like Prince Cyrill, doubted the validity of such a regressive tradition. No matter how ancient a custom may be, it cannot resist the changes of the times.

“Do you know when the last subrogate marriage in the empire took place?”

There was no warmth in Eugène’s voice, as cold as his chilling gaze. His reputation no longer mattered. What was at stake was the Emperor’s dignity. He had no intention of allowing such an absurd attempt to be publicly debated and tarnish the Emperor’s name.

“That is not what matters now. Do you not understand? This could be a great opportunity for you, Baron.”

“An opportunity to forever bear the disgrace of a man who has even been divorced, audaciously vying for the Empress’s position? That would surely be recorded in history.”

“History sounds grandiose. No matter how much time we spend within the court, we cannot possibly live our lives keeping in mind the records of what happens after we die. I speak sincerely, Baron Amieux. Please put aside your needless pride and be honest with yourself. A life-changing opportunity does not come often.”

Ignoring Eugène’s frosty response, Marquise Lamott spoke seriously. It did not seem merely sweet talk to push her agenda; surprisingly, she appeared to truly believe she was offering Eugène sincere advice that would benefit him.

“What if I have no intention of changing my life?”

“That would be foolish. A man’s love is fickle. It is even more so when that man possesses everything like His Majesty. How long do you suppose the current favor will last? The court is a cruel place. It becomes even more ruthless and merciless when trampling on the weak.”

She did not stop there. She warned that he must prepare a way to protect himself in the future while he still had influence. She, as a woman, could at least retain her status as a concubine and leave behind children even if she lost the Emperor’s favor. But was Eugène even in a position where that was possible?

“Think carefully. The two of us could be in a relationship where we could fill in each other’s shortcomings. It could be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“That is an unacceptable proposal.”

Eugène drew a firm line against the Marquise’s persistent persuasion.

“I do not fail to understand why you find this proposal useful. The position of Empress cannot remain vacant forever, so eventually, someone will take that place. From your perspective, if you cannot occupy that position yourself, you might consider it better for me to fill it rather than another woman. Since I am a man and cannot produce heirs. However—”

Whether it worked or not, the Marquise had nothing to lose. Though it would severely damage the Emperor’s dignity, if successful, she could place a mere figurehead on the throne who would pose no threat to the first prince. This would be an ideal outcome.

Conversely, failure would not matter either. She could at least rid the court of the Emperor’s bothersome lover. It was a shallow calculation, obvious even without deep thought.

Then suddenly, Eugène realized an unexpected truth. While he was exposing her calculating intentions, Marquise Lamott was looking at him with a steady gaze. Eugène, who did not avoid that gaze, found himself confronted by the swirling emotions in her beautiful silver-gray eyes.

Anger, humiliation, shame, frustration. Amid those stark and fierce emotions hid something extremely subtle and cleverly concealed. Though it was hidden among the feelings that were easy to catch the eye, once Eugène read the true nature of that gaze, a chill ran down his spine.

Among the many expressions, she thoroughly hid her true intentions. But Eugène could detect in her eyes the gaze of a cold observer, carefully studying him. Whether his refusal was sincere or not. Whether he was a man of great ambition beyond his limits or not. Every reaction he showed was being analyzed and scrutinized beneath that piercing gaze.

It was a trap. Eugène instinctively realized this, and his head grew numb. She deliberately threw out bait to see how he would respond.

“—I appreciate the advice, but spending the rest of my life satisfied as His Majesty’s spouse is not the way I wish to live. I do not wish to let his favor determine the course of my life.”

Eugène swallowed the harsh words on the tip of his tongue and finished speaking with forced calm. The rising agitation vanished instantly and was replaced by sudden exhaustion. He was constitutionally unsuited to such sly conspiracies. He was already thoroughly worn out by the countless intrigues he had faced since arriving at court.

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