Chapter 302

Hans adds a final piece to his scheme and the Coronation begins.

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Episode 302. About One Month (2)

Hans cast a quick glance at Thomas, waiting politely, then suddenly leaned in as if he’d just realized something.

“What… What is it, Consul?”

“Did the Second Prince discuss any other operations besides the Black Crown Village… hmm?”

Thomas took a quick half-step back, carefully avoiding Hans’s gaze before speaking.

“Hmm… For some time now, he hasn’t been handling affairs at his Palace, but has been conducting business at the Security Department or Military conference rooms instead. I mentioned back then that he seemed cautious, perhaps because he suspected there was a spy in his own Palace.”

“That sly fox. He’s quick-witted… Hmph.”

Hans gulped down his tea in one go, leaned back in his chair with a thud, closed his eyes, and briefly savored the hazy sensation it gave him.

“Since then, nothing much has happened there, except for the incident where the Second Aide was accused of being a spy.”

“I see... Hmph, thanks to that, the suspicion that would have otherwise fallen on you seems to have been diverted elsewhere.”

“Yes, that’s how it turned out.”

"Aha!"

Suddenly diverted from his leisurely musings, Hans gradually opened his eyes and gave Thomas a sardonic grin.

“Tell me what happened—hic—that day, when that fatso—hehe—was kicked out—heh—tell me what was said. Don’t leave out a single word, even if you think it’s trivial, hehehe. Tell me everything. Everything!”

Thomas’s skin crawled at Hans’s smug laugh, and he swallowed hard.

Even though Lady Tara's appearance had changed significantly, Hans Button always referred to her that way.

Thomas racked his brain to recount the events of that day in as much detail as possible.

A moment later, he began to tell the story starting from the night the Second Prince returned from the operation to suppress Black Crown Villages—and the moment when a knight from the Elias estate had come looking for the Second Aide, who had already been assigned to the permanent secretarial division.

Pacing back and forth across the room, Hans asked questions whenever something piqued his curiosity, and Thomas explained everything in as much detail as he could.

After Thomas finished speaking, Hans paced the room even faster, muttering to himself.

"Second Aide did something misleading."

“Hehehehe. How hilarious that she was eliminated in one fell swoop. I never would have guessed—I thought the two of them were sleeping together.”

“It seems that was also the case.”

“What?”

As Thomas described the subtle tension between them, Hans burst into a fit of giggles. Kekekeke... hehe! And laughed for a long time. Then, suddenly his expression turned serious.

“The invitations for the Coronation ceremony—hehe—have all of them been sent out?” He asked.

“Yes. They were all delivered two days ago.”

“Excellent. I’ll write one more invitation, hehe. Go right now and bring two—no, four, no, eight—Guards. Tell them to deliver the invitation and personally escort the recipient safely to the Palace. Surely I need to keep at least one card hidden up my sleeve, right, Thomas?”

"Pardon?"

Sending the Guards would be a clear indication that refusal was not an option. The number of personnel he was requesting was half the number typically assigned to escort a traitor.

“Pardon? Hmph, do you not understand?”

“Ah. No. I’ll relay the message immediately.”

“Go fetch Taylor!”

After Thomas brought in Taylor, a vassal of House Toulouse and currently Hans’s personal guard, he quickly issued his orders.

“From this moment on, anyone entering the capital—hehe—is prohibited from carrying a weapon. This rule applies to everyone, including nobles, knights, soldiers on leave, and—hehe—members of the security forces. Violators will be beheaded. Hehehe, make sure this order is relayed immediately to all the gatehouses leading into the capital.”

"Yes Consul!"

Hans chuckled at the surprise and anxiety on Taylor's face.

"Of course, the Imperial knights appointed by His Majesty, the Capital Defense Force, and the Toulouse Knights—hehe—are exempt. The Capital Defense Force and the Toulouse Knights will be responsible for escorting any nobles travelling into the Capital for tomorrow’s coronation ceremony, as well as those already within the capital. Also, hehehe, order the military unit closest to the capital to secure all the city gates immediately!”

"Are you permitted to issue such an order? Is his Majesty aware of this?"

“...Are you my bodyguard, or His Majesty’s bodyguard?”

“Of course...”

“Hehehehehe. It’s not that I don’t understand your position, hehe. But how do you think His Majesty achieved his current position?”

“....”

He patted Taylor’s shoulder gently, as if he were reassuring a child, while Taylor stood there with a stiff, silent expression. Hans circled around to face his guard's stoic mask.

"Haven't you spent your whole life following orders, drenching your hands with blood-hehe-as a good and loyal knight? Why not take some time and enjoy the fruits of your labor? Hehehe!"

“....”

The guard's shoulders flinched, his turbulent emotions palpable in the posture of his spine.

“You need to understand who truly holds the power here, hehe, especially if you want to climb higher. Don't you agree? Take a good look. Hasn't everything gone exactly as I've planned? Hehe. And it will continue to do so. So, Sir Taylor, I advise you to think long and hard about where you chose to step from here on out.”

About ten minutes later, Hans sat silently on the sofa, sipping the green tea the East had presented to His Majesty in tribute while Taylor waited nearby.

The bitterness was just right, leaving his palate refreshed. 'There truly is something special about tribute goods,' he thought as he poured the remaining white powder into his cup. Having gathered his thoughts, Taylor spoke up.

“Give your orders.”

“I see, hehe, you’ve chosen wisely. I’ll write the orders, and you must carry them out immediately. When you deliver these orders to the Duke, convey this message as well.”

"The commanders of each unit will only obey if the Emperor's seal is affixed to it, Consul."

“Look over there. Hehe, what does that look like to you?”

Taylor glanced towards the massive desk Hans was gesturing at. The Emperor's Seal lay on the surface as if it belonged there. 

“.....!”

“I have been acting on His Majesty’s behalf for several days now. Hehe. I shall report this matter to His Majesty the moment he rises from his bed tomorrow morning. Hehe. And Thomas...”

Thomas, who had been standing quietly by the door, took a step forward as if startled by Hans’s sudden mention of his name.

“Yes, Consul.”

“One more thing. Phew.... Damn it. Hmph, hmph, phew, phew. Tell them not to prepare that white powder until the Coronation in front of the Palace Council Chamber is over. And don’t bring it into my office or—hehe—my quarters either. Heh heh. I want to be clear-eyed when I watch that bastard’s demise. Hehe. Just one more day. Hehe- heh heh hehe.”

“Yes, Consul!”

As Thomas headed straight for the Palace Council Chamber, he couldn't help but marvel.

‘He really is something else. He has incredible focus. I had my doubts after I learned he was under the influence of that white powder... but he’s truly one of a kind.’

***

October 7, the morning of the Coronation Ceremony.

The rain had stopped, but the sky remained overcast, and the sound of the howling wind felt noticeably ominous.

Aside from the portentous winds, the Capital was strangely quiet on the day of the Coronation. The only sound was the echoing clatter of horse hooves resounding down the city streets, as if it was an intentional reminder of the upcoming ceremony.

A large crowd of citizens had emerged onto the streets to watch the procession of carriages, but all of them whispered, no one daring to speak aloud.

The coronation ceremony, which only select members of the nobility were permitted to attend, had a notably different atmosphere than the usual palace functions.

Of course, in scale, it was larger and more magnificent than any other Imperial event in recent history.

Golden carpets adorned the marble floors of the Palace, and dazzling red and blue banners spanned the massive windows. The garden, which had reportedly been planted in haste, was vibrant with flowers arranged by an army of gardeners, and an enormous fountain spouted a soaring stream of water designed to ensure the glittering droplets reached even greater heights.

The carriages of the nobility lined up at the entrance to the Imperial Palace grounds for inspection, one after another. After they had passed muster, they were made to leave their carriages behind and enter the Palace.

The faces of the nobility who had never before been forced to walk the long approach to the Palace were creased with disapproval, yet not a single one voiced the slightest complaint.

And as I watched the nobles walking down the carriageway to the Palace from my window, dressed in their splendid gowns and finery, I couldn't help but grit my teeth.

Late last night, eight palace guards had stormed into the Elias residence, and one of them had handed me an invitation in front of my family.

[We have been ordered to bring you to the Palace immediately.]

[Are you saying His Royal Highness the Third Prince has personally invited me, a complete stranger, to the Coronation?]

[That is correct. We must leave at once!]

[But that isn't His Highness's signature.]

I was familiar with Prince Joseph's signature because it often came through the Permanent Secretarial Division due to his role in the Ministry of Rites. But the signature on the invitation I had just received wasn't one I had ever seen before.

The guards, slightly flustered by my remark, exchanged glances before casually brushing it off.

[For such trivial matters, he sometimes has a trusted retainer sign for him.]

"For example, by a retainer like the Consul, Hans Button?"

[.....]

The guards cleared their throats at my question. One told me, "You have no right to that information," and whisked me away in a carriage. 

On second thought, ‘whisked me away' was far too generous a description.

They grabbed my arms roughly—with no trace of the courtesy one might expect a knight to show towards a noble lady—and tried to force me into a prisoner transport carriage.

My father stood there stunned, while my older sister watched, trembling with shock. My mother and Aria stared at the scene on the verge of tears. Beth fearlessly charged at the guards, insisting she would follow me, until a flustered Niels and Dylan grabbed her by the arms to stop her.

Seeing their reactions, I forced a smile to show I was fine, then rapidly spoke a series of words only my father would understand.

[I’m fine. I've been wanting to see the coronation after all! It’s a historic moment! All my close friends will be there, and I hear they’ll be spending more money on fireworks than ever before. I’ll make sure I get a good look before I come back.]

My family stared after me long after the carriage left the mansion’s driveway, and I watched them until they became mere dots in the distance before turning away.

You... little... bastard, what are you trying to pull?

The dress they had prepared for me at the Palace was so extravagantly flashy that it instantly summoned a frown. It was as if they were trying to make sure I left a lingering afterimage on the backs of everyone's eyelids. No, actually, they wanted to ensure that I was easily visible and eye-catching, even from afar. It was intentional.

The dazzling red dress was fitted at the top and flared out at the bottom, the lower section so layered and puffy that it took up a considerable space around me.

It was definitely not a style I would have chosen myself, but I decided to wear it gracefully nonetheless. As I put it on, I made a vow.

I was going to make him regret dragging me to the Palace.

And if the opportunity ever arose, I was going to cut him down with my axe. _________ Editor's Note -

And this is where everything really goes to shit...

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