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Chapter 278
“You’re right on time, I see. I hope the wait wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”
The Empress entered the room with a tone of polite formality.
The Archduke rose from his seat, offered a courteous bow, and then sat again across from her.
With a calm and even voice, he replied,
“Thanks to Your Majesty’s hospitality, I’ve been resting quite well.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried that the long journey might have tired you too much.”
The Archduke watched the Empress lie so smoothly without even moistening her lips and sneered inwardly.
‘As if she’s ever cared about my condition.’
Such an absurd thing could never have happened in reality.
He still remembered their last meeting vividly.
At that time, he had accused the Empress of being a murderer and screamed at her in fury.
The last time he came to the capital had been for his sister’s funeral—
And from that day on, the already desolate Bilfaud Territory had turned into an even harsher land to live in.
There was no need to waste breath explaining whose command had caused such changes.
Wiping the faint smile from his lips, the Archduke said,
“Please have your attendants step outside.”
“...And may I ask what compels such a request?”
“It concerns the security of Bilfaud Territory. Surely, Your Majesty understands the importance of discretion.”
The Archduke felt as though the Empress glared at him for a brief moment.
He hadn’t actually seen her expression—so perhaps it was only his intuition—but he doubted she would have reacted any differently.
The Empress, sitting upright with her back perfectly straight, kept her eyes on him and gave a quiet command:
“Leave us.”
The waiting maids and attendants exited the room like the tide receding from shore.
A stillness settled into the chamber, a heavy silence hanging between them.
It was the Empress who broke it first.
“I didn’t think you’d ever set foot in the capital again.”
“Your Majesty, the Empress, I’m here to attend my brother’s funeral. That shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise.”
“Yes, your brother’s funeral. No one else’s.”
Though the words provoked irritation, the Empress’s remark was entirely true.
If not for the plan he had formed together with Iona, the Archduke would never have attended his brother’s funeral at all.
To him, the late Emperor was not someone worthy of his prayers or blessings.
He only hoped that, in the afterlife, his brother would at least apologize to their sister.
“Considering the timing of your visit, I doubt you came bearing pleasant news, Archduke.”
It was true. Although this plan had been in motion for some time, choosing to act the moment his brother died was deliberate.
The Archduke made no attempt to deny it.
“Your Majesty the Empress has never brought anything but misfortune to Bilfaud Territory. I merely came to pick up the pieces.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” she replied, feigning ignorance.
The Archduke let out a faint chuckle.
He lightly clasped his hands together, interlocking his fingers.
As he prepared to give voice to the anger he had carried for years, his jaw tightened unconsciously.
“Since I have the honor of seeing Your Majesty face to face, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to ask. I’ve long been curious… How much, exactly, did Your Majesty spend to buy those barbarians?”
The Empress did not answer his question.
Perhaps even someone as stone-faced as the Empress had been momentarily taken aback by his blunt mention.
The truths that he and she both knew had stayed beneath the surface all this time simply because no one had wanted them exposed.
Not the instigators, certainly—not the Archduke either; he had chosen silence to avoid needless bloodshed.
Unless the entire royal house was overturned, any half-measured uproar would only leave him the one paying the heavier price.
No doubt, even now, the Empress was calculating what kind of retribution she could unleash on the Archduke who had dared touch her.
Still, he had no intention of backing down.
Spreading his hands as if to show his helplessness, he said,
“It’s not as if I never tried negotiating with the Nant tribe over all those years. Granted, that was back when I was younger and more naïve.”
“Even if you claim it was your private initiative, we have no idea what you speak of here,” the Empress answered, her voice unchanged.
An unnerving, immovable calm.
As the Empress said, the Archduke likewise felt no real sense that a genuine dialogue had ever existed— and yet that hardly mattered.
Once he finished his story, she would, too, be drawn somewhat deeper into this mire.
“True, money wasn’t the real issue. We tried offering higher pay than you, even tried to bribe them, but the money-crazy barbarians simply wouldn’t turn. So what else could be the problem? They’re in a position where they must fight for their lives— would money ever be preferable to peace? I always wondered…”
“……”
“Only recently did it become clear why they had been throwing themselves into those attacks as if their lives depended on it. My, I always knew Your Majesty the Empress was a fearsome person, but I never imagined you could be so ruthless.”
The Archduke said, almost admiringly.
The Empress remained perfectly composed.
Could that indifferent bearing really belong to someone whose single gesture decided life or death?
Or is it precisely that unfeelingness that allows a person to toy so casually with others’ lives?
The Archduke glared at her with hatred.
“You promised not to exterminate them in exchange for them continuing the unrest in Bilfaud Territory, didn’t you?”
“……”
“Denying it would be useless. I already have in my hands a Nant warrior who will repeat your exact words.”
He had learned this while scouring the countryside in search of Walter. The Nant warrior he captured was a boy barely into his twenties.
Because the Empress had used the Nant tribe to harry Bilfaud Territory for so many years, a generational shift had taken place among them.
This young man hadn’t yet steeled himself to sacrifice his life for the clan.
Frightened by the knowledge he might soon die, he lost his reason and tried to blame everyone but himself for why he held a weapon.
At first he ranted about how terrifying their leader was, complained about their harsh homeland, and poured out grievances about the political tragedies that had befallen them.
Only then did the Archduke truly understand why the Nant tribe had repeatedly launched attacks at the cost of their warriors’ lives.
They were a hard, stubborn people, but even they could not hope to match the overwhelming military strength arrayed against them.
The soldiers of Bilfaud Territory, short on manpower and supplies, could not be equal in scale to the state-organized punitive expeditions.
To avoid extinction, the Nant tribe offered a warrior’s head each year as tribute.
And the ridiculous recipient of those offerings was not the Archduke who faced them—but rather the Empress, who lived far away in a peaceful life.
She had never once even looked upon their corpses.
“Do you condemn the royal court based on the ramblings of barbarians who spoke just to survive?” she asked.
“Do not assume the only piece of information I gathered during my long years in Bilfaud Territory is that,” he shot back.
It wasn’t implausible that somewhere along the line the Empress had been tipped off and had long persecuted the Archduke.
She had crushed that dull, provincial fool for sport and had never expected him to rise in dissent.
Regardless, the Archduke had seized the moment without hesitation: not long ago she had lost the very husband who had been the source of her power.
The Empress, having done the math quickly, asked,
“What is it that you want?”
“Strike down Bardem’s minions who were carrying orders in your stead,” the Archduke replied, baring his intent.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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