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From Bards and Poets
32 - Palace plotters

32 - Palace plotters

“The Empire's government is a centuries old system that already proved its worth. 'Tis basically a pyramid of ranks, with each person dumping things on the people under him. It works really well currently. The Emperor has whims and creates a mess based on these whims. The four chancellors under him try to clean the mess by giving orders to their ministers. The ministers make their staff work until the issue is solved. Here we should mention how a ministry's staff is organized. It is very similar to the hierarchy of servants. That is to say, it is once again an unfathomable clutter of ranks. No one is interested in learning that. What you need to remember is that despite the apparent chaos and hypocrisy, the whole system runs surprisingly well. What kind of sweet talk, threat or mind-magic they use to force these people at the bottom to work so efficiently for such a little pay, I do not know.

-Third section's human resources managing department executive president-butler”

* * *

Leopold

He had just finished stamping the last letter of the day as he laid back in his chair, his eyes wandering along the room, on the many shelves full of precious books, the beautifully painted ceiling, the white marble walls mostly covered in tapestries. Such a display of wealth only helped to make him grimace in frustration. Leopold eventually turned his head to the side, gazing at the capital through the high window.

As always, the sight was breathtaking. It was natural, since Leopold's absurdly large office was located several hundred of meters above the ground. This was one the numerous privileges granted to him by his position.

Someone knocked at the large wooden door.

“Come in,” Leopold said in a strong voice.

A middle-aged secretary entered. He walked along the red carpet until he reached the desk, and bowed. “Lord chancellor, an urgent missive for you.”

Leopold frowned. From whom ? I shouldn't have any pressing matter at the moment.

He nodded, signalling the secretary to hand out the missive. He took a glance at the seal and immediately knew what it was about.

“They came back ?” he mumbled.

The secretary sent a quizzical look. “Milord ?”

Leopold didn't bother answering. He opened the letter and read it quickly. Once he was done, he wore a displeased look. “Five days ago, hah ! I'll need to replace this spy with a more capable one, again.”

Is every single subordinate of mine an imbecile who enjoys drinking on the job, or something ?

He supported his head with his hand, and tapped his balding forehead with his fingers. He eventually looked up, addressing the secretary. “Godefroy, have you got any word of something interesting about to happen in the palace ?”

“There might be something, milord,” Godefroy answered. “It seems the Ravilna family and the minister of trade have been active recently. Just like three months ago.”

“Garret Farril, huh ?” Leopold stared at the letter. “Then that settles it. They found something in the west.”

“What would you like to do ?”

Leopold thought for a bit. “Nothing, for now. Just keep them under observation. You can go.”

Godefroy bowed again and left the office. The lord got off his chair and walked to the window.

That incompetent niece might be a stain on our name, but perhaps she finally proved herself useful.

He rubbed the signet ring he was wearing, feeling the Verald crest carved in gold with his wrinkled thumb, while he kept staring at the city below him. After some time he exited his office.

As he turned to close the massive wooden door, he caught a glimpse of his stern frowning face in the reflection of the polished gold plate indicating 'Chancellor Leopold Verald'. His grey brows knitted even further.

...How long will I keep on like that ?

As the sound of his footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent, enormous corridors and halls, Leopold lost himself in thought. It happened each time he looked at this gold plate. The awe and arrogance he had first felt when striding on the marble paving of the Palace's interior was long lost. Only frustration and exhaustion remained.

Leopold had taken office in the chancellery decades ago, succeeding to his elder brother. They had the dream, when they were young, that one day they'd be able to hold the high-chancellery. The highest position in the Empire, second only to the reigning fool himself.

Of course, things happened differently and didn't go that well for Leopold and his brother, as it is often the case in the Imperial Palace. The eldest fell to sickness, the younger, inheriting his job, got stuck to the same office for twenty years because of a rival.

If the Latrea house at least knew how to manage a country... But they merely grovel before the Emperor and don't dare to oppose him. The current high-chancellor is just a glorified minion, and we three other chancellors are doing all the work. The nation will fall into decadence at this rate. Or before that, it'll be crushed by the northern cities or the southern kingdoms.

Leopold couldn't refrain a smirk. He had been brooding over the same thoughts for years now. Always the Emperor, always the Latrea family. He was becoming obsessed with them. It was tiring him. And there was also his office, his name and his house's reputation to manage. He still had hopes to climb that one last rank. That meant he had to be better than anyone else, smarter than anyone else, crueler than anyone else. He had to appear irreproachable, irreplaceable and invaluable.

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When the idiot Emperor would die, his successors had to realize that Leopold Verald was the only possible choice if they wanted to keep the Empire from collapsing. In order to do that, he'd also grovel in front of the right people, if necessary.

Walking in a long corridor, illuminated by the late afternoon sun coming through the several meters-tall windows, he noticed something in the corner of his eyes.

Speak of the devil.

It was the Second Prince Hadrias and his court. Leopold's main hope for the future. Both for him and the for the Empire, since the prince was not only in good terms with the chancellor, but also in the right dispositions to rule. He had a head on his shoulders, contrary to his father.

“Your Highness.” Leopold bowed and kept his head down.

The prince and his entourage stopped. Leopold could see the feet of the Imperial guards and the Magic-maids circling the prince. It was protocol, even if nobody expected Leopold to pose a threat.

A soft but confident voice spoke. “Raise your head, chancellor.” Complying, he looked up to the young man, who was playing with his light-brown hair. “Are the nation's affairs any good ?”

“As usual, your Highness. Though one can only use what little ability he has to clean after a whirlwind.”

Hadrias smirked. “Keep up the good work,” he said as he started to walk away, his court and guards following.

Such was the extent of their complicity. Obviously, they couldn't afford to mock the Emperor in front of the prince's entire court, but that small cutting remark was all they needed. These two were of the same opinion regarding the state of the Empire and its current rulers.

Leopold kept walking through the corridor. It felt like it'd last for ever. It wasn't even the longest corridor in the entire Palace. But the chancellors' aisle was opposite to the archives, his destination. He'd spend time here until nightfall. Unfortunately, his office didn't have the luxury to harbour the two hundred and twelve volumes of the Taxpayer Legislation Corpus. Abridged edition. The Fourth Prince had messed up with the finances of the crown by backing the construction of an entirely pointless fortress to the east, yes, where there was only sea. To protect the Empire from an army of fish and shrimps, perhaps. Regardless of the reason his idiotic son had, the Emperor was furious and ordered high-chancellor Latrea to repair the mess, at the taxpayers' expenses, of course, because the father had the obligation to be at least as dumb as the son. In the end the job fell on Leopold's lap, so now he had to get to work. No rest for the wicked.

Eventually reaching the dreaded library, he found two Magic-maids in front of the doors. Unusual, though it happened from time to time. That meant he was in there. Leopold nodded to the guards, who returned his greeting. He pushed the wooden doors and his suspicions were confirmed. Another row of bodyguards were keeping watch in the massive circular room.

Leopold glanced through the Magic-maids looking for the First Prince, but he was nowhere to be seen. Probably wandering somewhere in the archives. The place was huge and basically had the shape of a large barrel, having several floors in the form of balconies, from which you could look down everywhere. The thing was, despite its impressive size and organisation, its contents were fifty times less interesting than the Academy's library. Here laid only law and administrative texts. An hour inside this room could suck the life out of any regular human. You'd have to be something beyond human, something like a government worker, a jurist or a high-ranking official to be able to survive here.

Which brings me, as always, to that question. Why would that man frequent such a place ?

First Prince Alcidel seemed indifferent to his nation's future, and Leopold saw him as the kind of man who'd do something scandalous like renouncing to his name or leaving the Palace to travel the lands. No point in betting on him for the position of next Emperor.

But Leopold could feel something eerie creeping up when he wondered about Alcidel's reasons for bumming around in this very specific library. When he thought deeply about it, that immature man was clouded in mystery. It was well known that the First Prince had a taste for maids and women in general, and he did nothing to hide his laziness and his disdain of etiquette. But why would someone in a position to soon sit on the continent's most coveted throne simply spend his days in idleness, not caring one bit about his inheritance ? And how could someone under such a spotlight manage to keep most things concerning him hidden ?

Sometimes I'm convinced that the whole lazy womaniser behaviour is an act. Hah... There are too many dangerous people prowling around in the Imperial Palace. Hopefully this man will indeed end up discarding his title and leaving the capital. He's making the archive library an even more uncomfortable place than it already is.

Taking a bunch of heavy books, Leopold sat in one of the velvet-covered armchairs laid-out between the rows of bookcases. As he turned the pages, trying to brave the boredom of the walls of tax law jargon, his mind wandered toward more important matters.

The Emperor had others descendants, but aside from Hadrias, only the Fifth Princess would have been a good choice, though she was too far in the succession order. And then Leopold would have to ally with the Ravilna house. Lord Ravilna himself was alright, the man was also a chancellor after all, so he knew what it meant to deal with the mess of the Emperor. Leopold was curious as to why such a reasonable man would support someone who had no chance of accessing the throne, but maybe it had to do with the princess' charisma. Well, that wasn't too concerning. The issue was that the man was old and frail, and were he to pass away, his eldest daughter Beatrice Ravilna would probably inherit his office.

Having that countess around – especially as an 'ally' – was the worst thing anyone could imagine. Leopold had met her numerous times, and she didn't seem to have a proper sense of responsibilities. The woman was so enigmatic, even he couldn't guess whether she was frightfully smart or just plain stupid.

“If it isn't chancellor Verald.”

Leopold looked up. Under short black locks falling on his forehead, the aloof eyes of the First Prince gazed at the chancellor. “Your Highness,” Leopold said, quickly standing up before bowing.

“Working hard ? Courtesy of my family, I take it.”

Leopold didn't answer and raised his head without being told to do so. It might have seemed rude, but the prince would never care for such a thing. That was one of the few things the chancellor was sure of. It might even displease a man like him to follow proper etiquette.

If you dislike so much the Palace's customs, what are you waiting for ? Why don't you abandon your title already and make way for your brother ? Ah, don't want to leave your women, eh ?

“Well, don't let it ruin your health,” the prince carried on, waving as he turned around. “You walk a tightrope. They'll end up killing you... Be it execution or overwork.”

As if I didn't know that. What was the point of this chat ?

Leopold watched as the manchild stroke the thigh of one of his maids. The woman didn't flinch, and the equally indifferent prince didn't even look at her as he passed by. You'd have to be as stoic and uncaring as Alcidel when you served under him. To be fair, Leopold knew of the training the Magic-maids went through, and that kind of annoyance probably paled in comparison.

It was a wonder the countess Ravilna wasn't backing the First Prince, Leopold would bet they'd get along very well. These two would not bat an eye if the Empire was suddenly engulfed in chaos. In that way Beatrice was the perfect opposite of chancellor Varymiel.

Varymiel was as stern and rigorous as one could be. Strange thing, seeing that her house was basically in charge of intelligence, and you'd expect a cunning, malicious person as a spymaster. Not that it made her any easier to deal with. Her goals – the Empire's well-being – were as clear as the day, but the woman was so cold and apathetic you couldn't always figure her out, even though there was only one thing she aimed for. Not as bad as the chaotic countess Ravilna, though.

Thankfully. The last thing this country needs is someone like the countess as the head of intelligence. She'd probably plot five coups per day, that woman.

The chancellor kept diligently reading through very interesting texts about tax, tribute, and convoluted ways to make the citizens pay even more tax and tribute. Without him realizing it, nightfall occurred. He put back the books and exited the library.

Once more, he stood in the everlasting corridor. The silence and emptiness were strangely relaxing, but it barely lasted. Leopold Verald's mind was cacophonous, he had too many worries to ponder about. His shoulders felt heavy, he had been working since dawn. Staring yet again at the city through the windows, he sighed. Something was about to happen in the Palace. The odds that it was related to his niece's western expedition were high. He'd have to whip his lazy informants a bit, because in the days to come would began a race to learn what was at stake, whose side to join, which camp to be wary of.

Feeling that the others had a head start over him, he grumbled. Leopold too would have to start plotting soon, or else he'd be left behind.