Chapter 120

Not a bad choice. Eugène maintained an indifferent expression while making a quiet, rational assessment. Young Lord Vallienne was competent but moderate in temperament. Most importantly, being in the Imperial Army, he had no access to the Imperial Navy. If such a person were to become the head of the Western nobility faction, he would prove invaluable to His Majesty, whose strategy aimed to gradually limit the influence of Western nobles within the Imperial Navy.

The door leading to the Emperor’s office opened, and as two guards stepped in first and took their places with disciplined precision on either side, the murmur in the room gradually subsided. Eugène watched as the two imperial ushers and the Grand Chamberlain, Count Picato, entered through the open doorway, followed in quick succession by the head of thePaneterie, the general steward, the attendants carrying meat, the kitchen manager, and the porcelain steward. He quickly dismissed from his mind the complicated calculations he had been running.

Once the bustling hands had arranged the table according to imperial protocol, thePremier Maître d’hôteldeparted to announce that the meal was ready. Shortly after, Ebroin V, who had been resting in his private chambers, arrived at the banquet hall. As the Emperor’s footsteps reached the Salon de l’Abondance, the herald raised his voice to announce the event to everyone present.

“His Majesty the Emperor, the Lord of Ardi, Klemann and Nervoge, Ruler of the Neutel and Salpine Rivers, and the Protector of Lex Ardica, enters. All rise and show respect.”

At the herald’s command, everyone in the room dropped to their knees simultaneously. Ebroin V acknowledged their greetings with an indifferent gaze.

“Rise.”

A majestic voice decreed the reaping of courtesy. Eugène lifted his bowed head and faced forward. Twelve attendants proceeded through the aisle in proper formation. Two guardsmen carrying the imperial standards led the way, followed by attendants bearing towels and rose water in neat lines.

In the middle of the small procession was the Emperor. Eugène, mingling among the others and observing the customary ceremony, happened to meet the Emperor’s gaze as he passed by. A flash of something like lightning crossed the Emperor’s golden eyes when he saw Eugène. It was only a moment, but the emotion revealed in that instant left a distinct trail in his gaze, like a comet streaking across the night sky.

However, the Emperor made no deliberate acknowledgment. After a fleeting glance at Eugène, he lowered his eyes, then shifted his gaze forward and continued past. His movements flowed with natural ease, without the slightest hesitation or disturbance. The Grands waiting for him to reach the seat could only take their places once the Emperor had seated himself and given the command to do so.

“Messieurs, au couvert du Roi!”

With the herald’s proclamation, the evening banquet began. It was a scene played out with flawless precision, repeated without the slightest deviation day after day. For tonight’s dinner, the person chosen to serve the Emperor was none other than the Marquis of La Baille. He gave Eugène a brief, acknowledging glance before stepping forward to attend the Emperor.

“His Majesty desires wine.”

By a series of swift selections, even before the first course was halfway finished, Young Lord Vallienne was also called forward. When the two figures currently setting the court ablaze served the Emperor simultaneously, those watching the banquet began murmuring in astonishment.

Most of those present were seasoned, long-practiced courtiers. None among them was foolish enough to fail to grasp the significance of what was unfolding before their eyes.

‘If this continues, Young Lord Vallienne might truly become the presumptive heir.’

‘Surely it cannot come to that? There are established laws, after all.’

‘Legally, there should be no problem, they say. Most legal scholars seem to agree on that point.’

‘Good heavens, is that really true? Even so, matrilineal succession?’

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A low voice murmured near him. Eugène, who had been silent amid the busy exchanges around him, flinched and turned his gaze. Somehow, an unwelcome presence had taken position behind him.

“Your Grace, Duke La Mer.”

He greeted Duke Lamer with a simple nod. Despite Eugène’s curt demeanor, Duke La Mer’s friendly smile betrayed no attempt to conceal his pleasure. Eugène, recalling how their last meeting had ended, could scarcely comprehend such a response.

“It has been some time, Baron. Though I frequent the court often, it seems I scarcely ever cross paths with you.”

“And what brings you to the rear here? Surely this is not the place assigned to Your Grace.”

Eugène’s words were no true question. Duke La Mer was not a member of the imperial family and thus had no right to be called ‘Your Highness’, but he was still a Duke. His rank as a Duke distinguished him even among titled nobility. He possessed the right to place a chair in a favorable position at the front and observe the banquet if he so wished.

Eugène politely remarked, with a touch of sarcasm, on what so distinguished a person could possibly be doing here. The Duke of La Mer, however, feigned taking his question at face value and replied with an air of innocent pretense.

“I am unaccustomed to such gatherings. Should I lean too far forward, my view becomes inevitably restricted. From this step back, however, I am able to observe the proceedings from an angle unseen by others. Just as at this moment.”

Eugène flinched as he felt a soft touch against his earlobe and instinctively turned his head. Duke La Mer, lightly touching the area behind Eugène’s ear with his index finger, met his openly displeased glare at the unauthorized contact with a mischievous smile.

“You have a mole behind your ear.”

“What on earth—? …Why does your face look like that?”

Since the man had been standing behind him, Eugène had only given him a passing glance when exchanging greetings. When he finally turned to face the man directly, he furrowed his brows in mild dismay. The face of a man who held the title of ‘Duke’ was quite a sight.

A dark bruise marred the upper part of his cheekbone, the swelling from which had spread beneath his left eye, turning it an angry shade of purple. His mouth was badly split, and a bright scab had formed on his otherwise beautiful lower lip. Such a sight was scarcely seen in a court where physical appearances were treated as sacred.

Perhaps because there was little else to look at, even in that state, he was not entirely unpleasant to behold. The combination of a harshly bruised face and the pitiful droop of his eyes gave him the impression of a reckless child returning home after a thorough beating.

But that was merely a personal observation. It did not mean he was permitted to wander the court in such a state. Seeing him in a condition that made it seem he should not even step outside his home left Eugène speechless with disbelief.

“Considering the reward for protecting the princess from the enraged viper, I would say it was a bargain. Well worth it.”

“I am aware that you have always had a habit of speaking in riddles, but this particular metaphor escapes me entirely. Did you say ‘enraged viper’?”

When Eugène asked skeptically, clearly puzzled, the Duke of La Mer responded with a surprisingly bright expression.

“Conscience forbids me from calling the opponent a dragon. But one cannot claim to have fought an eel or a worm and still have it sound impressive, can one?”

The more Eugène listened, the less he understood. As usual, Duke La Mer seemed uninterested in making himself understood. Already preoccupied with his own complex thoughts, Eugène had no patience to keep pace with the man’s frivolous jokes. With a resigned shake of his head, he turned his gaze away, ignoring the Duke.

Looking forward again, he saw Young Lord Vallienne examining the evidence of the unicorn in his cup with a serious expression. The Marquis was serving quail onto the Emperor’s plate, while Ebroin V engaged him in low-toned conversation.

“Have you found an answer to the question I asked earlier?”

As he straightened himself up, a sweet voice reached him from over his shoulder. Though lowered to avoid attracting attention, the closeness of the speaker betrayed the original intent.

“I have recently heard most amusing news regarding your activities, Baron. You have been refraining entirely from public appearances, wandering instead through the libraries, I hear? Those unversed in the matter seem exceedingly curious about your undertakings. Why have you chosen this method of movement? Surely the easiest way to solve a riddle is to obtain the clue directly from its setter.”

Like a libertine trying to seduce the lady of his desire, Duke La Mer whispered in a tone unbearably sweet. If one were not listening to the words themselves, one might have mistaken the voice for the recitation of a lyrical poem, so alluring was its sound.

However charming his demeanor might be, it was not enough to conceal the slyness underlying his actions. Eugène did not avert his gaze and, in a dry tone, issued a warning to the Duke.

“Your Grace seems to possess a grievous lack of sense for appropriate distance.”

Even so, a mere warning of that sort was far from sufficient to deter Duke La Mer’s persistent approach.

“I have been waiting with some tension. To confess honestly, I must admit I am a little excited as well. Yet, unexpectedly, the wait is taking far too long.”

“I told you that you were too close. Is it such an unreasonable request to at least observe the barest degree of courtesy?”

“So, have you managed to uncover any useful information?”

“Duke La Mer-.”

“Surely not. Almost every possible avenue of information has been blocked, has it not, by the kindness of a certain someone?”

Eugène nearly showed emotional agitation at that remark. He had a very precise suspicion of whom the Duke was hinting at. But to act rashly in a situation so devoid of information would only play into the other’s hands. Eugène had no intention of giving even the slightest opening to a man so eager to manipulate him under the pretext of hidden truths.

“…I do not know what it is that Your Grace desires of me, but there is one thing I wish to make perfectly clear.”

The banquet had now reached the point where Young Lord Vallienne was sampling the wine. But no one present paid any attention to that spectacle. Eugène spoke in a calm, low voice, barely audible unless one leaned close.

“What I seek is the truth of the past, not a pretext to switch allegiances. If that is what you hope for, it would be wise to abandon the notion.”

Though his gaze remained fixed ahead, the measured tone of his voice left no doubt as to the intended recipient, the Duke. From a distance close enough that one could feel the warmth of the breath along his nape, Duke La Mer inclined slightly toward him and responded with a soft, teasing laugh.

“What value, pray tell, does such a declaration hold in these circumstances? In reality, you do not even truly know what truth awaits you, do you?”

A dark shadow fell over one of Eugène’s shoulders. As if to erase the already minimal space between them entirely, Duke La Mer leaned closer, lowering his head until it nearly brushed Eugène’s ear, and in a secretive, venom-laced whisper murmured.

“At this point, I cannot help but wonder… could you truly face the entire truth with such composure?”

Eugène’s brows furrowed faintly at the words. What the Duke was doing now was nothing more than a pure provocation. And yet, despite being aware of the Duke’s intentions, Eugène found himself momentarily at a loss for a response. It was because the question struck deep into the fundamental unease he had long kept buried.

Just then, an unexpected accident occurred in the banquet hall.