Chapter 158 - Patriot

Valdemar Golt.

The House Golt was the family of one of the founding heroes of the empire, and its descendants had upheld a reputation worthy of that legacy.

As was often the case with hereditary nobles, when one generation was exceptional, expectations for the next naturally grew.

Yet, nine times out of ten, those heightened expectations went unmet.

That had been true of Valdemar Golt's father.

He had achieved the greatest accomplishments in House Golt's history, and everyone believed Valdemar would never surpass him.

Yet Valdemar became a Grand Duke who even eclipsed his father.

He never hesitated.

That was the reason Grand Duke Golt had been able to succeed.

Just as he boldly promoted policies favoring the chosen people and displayed the qualities of a hero, he was equally ruthless behind the scenes.

Anyone who looked like they might become an obstacle was removed... or killed.

As Valdemar grew older, so did his experience, making it rare for him to think highly of someone younger than himself.

One of those rare exceptions was Ferda.

'Ferda Valdrova.'

Ferda Valdrova's reputation in the imperial capital was far from favorable.

Being thrown to the Grand Duchess as her fiancé meant one was nothing more than worthless refuse, and Ferda was exactly that sort of man.

Anyone who truly believed he was a capable Regent and lord was no different from a fool who still believed childhood fairy tales.

And what about today's procession?

—The one who should be the face of the Grand Duchy actually did something that idiotic...

—As expected, rumors about nobles are just rumors.

His cold expression and the gloomy atmosphere he maintained only provoked even greater resentment among the nobles.

It was like holding a funeral in the middle of a lively festival.

Failing to go along with the mood was no trivial matter.

In the eyes of the public, he was simply an oblivious fool.

'At least, that was true until he objected.'

To Valdemar, the murmurs that arose during Ferda's objection sounded like this:

We've cornered him.

Defying the conclusion of the Crisis Response Headquarters was an act that undermined its authority.

No sane person would ever do such a thing.

It was also an insult that showed no respect toward Valdemar himself, the man hailed as the Hero of the Masses.

'But I should never have let him speak.'

Valdemar admitted that it had been his own mistake.

He had grown complacent.

He had never imagined that the tiny opening he had left, expecting Ferda to destroy himself, would instead overturn the entire situation.

That mechanical, socially oblivious man had spoken with genuine emotion when it came to his fiancée.

That emotion carried righteousness, and it possessed the power to captivate the audience.

It was as though kneeling had merely been a way to gain momentum before soaring into the sky.

Because of that, it had become impossible to shape public opinion into believing this disaster had occurred because the Far East had failed in its defense.

He had to reverse the atmosphere somehow.

That was why he postponed the decision and called for a recess.

'Ferda Valdrova...'

Valdemar replayed the name and all the information he knew about him.

He weighed him upon the scales in his heart.

Just how valuable is that man?

"Elder."

It was then.

Alexander walked over, interrupting his thoughts.

Valdemar immediately read the look in Alexander's eyes.

They were filled with dissatisfaction.

"I have nothing to discuss with you right now. Leave."

Ignoring him, Valdemar continued walking.

"Isn't this different from what we discussed?"

"And what exactly did we discuss? That I would spare your life, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"For someone whose head was supposed to be cut off, it seems to be attached quite well. The Dullahans would be jealous."

"That isn't the issue...! If you hand that acting position over to my younger brother—to that bastard who's receiving everyone's expectations now—how is that any different from giving me a death sentence!?"

Alexander shouted at the top of his lungs.

Valdemar sighed and slowly turned around.

Contempt shone chillingly across his face.

"You fool. Can't you even see that this is the best possible outcome?"

"How can it be the best when the opportunity has gone to my younger brother?"

"If you'd managed to produce even one prince during all the time you had left, none of this would've been necessary."

Alexander's face turned bright red.

"Th-That's..."

"What? Embarrassed? Of course you are. The public believes the Crown Princess has a body unfit for pregnancy, but you know the real problem lies with you."

"..."

"The way you're hanging your head right now is exactly like what's dangling between your legs."

Valdemar merely clicked his tongue.

Yet somehow, Alexander felt as though his shins had gone numb.

His spirit completely broken, he couldn't even bring himself to answer.

"I'll say it again. I gave you a chance, boy."

"A chance?"

"The throne is a place where one must endure every disgrace imaginable. Bringing someone down is easy. Remaining there is what's difficult. How many years did you endure it?"

"T-Ten years."

"That's right. Ten years. Long enough to write with your eyes closed. Just looking at a map of the Empire should vividly bring its landscape to mind. You know where the rot lies, and which places are on the verge of collapse."

Valdemar patted Alexander on the shoulder.

"In terms of information alone, you already have the advantage over Ureas. It's a game where you start five moves ahead and three points in the lead. If you still can't win under those conditions, wouldn't it be easier to simply give up?"

"I apologize, Elder. I spoke far beyond my place..."

"Enough."

He had no expectations for Alexander to begin with.

"Did you do what I told you to?"

"Yes, of course. They cooperated very enthusiastically."

"Good... that's how it should be..."

Everything was proceeding according to plan.

Yet the worry on his face refused to disappear.

His mind was occupied by only one woman.

"There is one thing I'm curious about."

"Please ask."

"It's Olivia."

Leaning forward, Valdemar asked,

"What exactly is the relationship between that girl and the Regent?"

"Pardon? Well... they've become close after talking a great deal, but not in that sort of way."

"Can you say that with certainty?"

"O-Of course! No matter what, she's the woman I've watched more than anyone else. How could I not know what she's thinking? The Regent is just one more fish in her pond."

Alexander answered confidently.

Yet those very words only deepened Valdemar's suspicions.

Valdemar was praised as the Hero of the Masses.

To maintain that reputation, he needed the ability to see through people's true intentions, and he firmly believed he possessed that talent.

Which meant he also understood Olivia better than most.

She always wore a mask, using men to place them on her side and escape difficult situations.

She walked that precarious tightrope masterfully.

Her warm smile concealed a chilling coldness.

Her soft, fluttering voice carried an unwavering firmness that pierced straight into one's ears.

'And yet... that Olivia...'

But the look in Olivia's eyes when she gazed up at Ferda had been different.

Seeing that expression reminded him of another woman buried deep within his memories.

Stella Arken.

'The woman fate said should have become mine.'

But that destiny had scattered like cherry blossoms in the wind.

Valdemar mourned.

He mourned her selfishness in denying fate.

He mourned the cold death that fate had dealt them.

That sorrow had been enough once.

There would be no second tragedy.

Valdemar decided to send a letter.

***

After the recess, Ferda returned to his lodging.

The place where they were staying was a luxurious inn reserved for nobles.

Although a single room was already spacious enough, Ferda had rented the entire establishment.

And that wasn't all.

For double security, he had erected military field tents around it, sealing every possible opening.

Consilus inspected the security with his subordinates before returning to the tent to report.

"We've checked every window, and there are no suspicious individuals within the surrounding area."

"You've done well, Count."

"It was nothing. A simple task like this hardly deserves praise."

"I'm not only referring to the security inspection. Thank you for everything you did during today's Golden Council as well."

Consilus chuckled.

"If anything, I should be the grateful one. Ever since coming to the Far East, I've hardly had the chance to stand before the Golden Council..."

Had any other noble said those words, it would have sounded like an obsession with the Golden Council itself.

But hearing them from Consilus, it simply sounded as though he wished to stand there as the representative of the Far East.

"Now we must prepare for tomorrow."

"If there is anything this old man can do, please tell me. I shall gladly obey."

Placing a hand over his chest, Consilus bowed respectfully.

"I'm sorry, but I think it's best if you stay out of this from now on."

"And why do you think that?"

"If you defend me too openly, the backlash may fall upon you as well. For now, I would prefer you simply watch."

"Hmm..."

Consilus could not immediately answer.

The future of the Far East rested upon Ferda's shoulders.

After watching him with worried eyes for a long moment, he finally nodded.

"Very well. This old man shall simply watch over you, Regent."

With proper courtesy, Consilus turned to leave.

Just as he was about to step outside, a Knight standing guard lifted the tent flap and called out to him.

"Regent."

He returned to Ferda, carrying the item the knight had handed him.

Consilus wore a troubled expression.

"A letter has arrived."

Ferda unfolded it.

Its contents were brief, yet forceful.

"I'll have a carriage prepared. Come alone."

The signature read:

Valdemar Golt.

Ferda decided to accept the invitation.

***

A carriage was already waiting for Ferda.

It carried him into the Imperial Palace.

Although he had come at Golt's invitation, there were three or four times as many people welcoming him as there had been when Olivia had received him.

The irony was unmistakable.

He was merely a guest here as well, yet they treated him as though he were the master of the house.

Ferda headed toward the reception room where Valdemar was waiting.

"Welcome, Regent Ferda."

"My greetings, Grand Duke."

"Let's not waste time with meaningless greetings and formalities. Men like us have no need for such things, do we?"

If that was how he wanted it, Ferda had no objections.

"Understood."

Ferda straightened his back and walked forward.

Valdemar gestured to a servant.

As though everything had already been prepared, the servant brought over a teapot and a bottle of liquor.

Perfectly brewed black tea was placed before Ferda.

Whiskey over ice was placed before Valdemar.

Without a word, Ferda took a sip of his tea.

"Watching everything you've done... I truly couldn't help but admire you."

Swirling the ice in his glass, Valdemar took a drink.

"I didn't underestimate you, but neither did I overestimate you. I believed I'd prepared exactly enough... and yet you still caught me completely off guard."

"Is that so?"

"You should be happier to hear that. It's exceedingly rare for me to praise anyone. After all, you're far more capable than that fool Alexander."

"Comparing me to the Crown Prince doesn't exactly make it sound like much of a compliment."

"That fool may have the qualities of an idiot, but he does have good instincts. He knows very well which side he has to stand on if he wants to survive."

Valdemar chuckled.

"So, judging by your preparations, you must have anticipated this postponement as well. And since you probably have a rough idea of what I'll do next, let's talk about that instead."

At first, it sounded like a trick to extract information.

But it wasn't.

"I'm talking about Young Master Yurei."

Ferda couldn't hide his surprise.

He had never expected Valdemar to bring up that subject so openly.

"Your informants have probably already noticed it as well, but Duke Yurei has arrived inside the palace."

"Is that so?"

"Ever since he fell into debt, he's been no different from a tiger that has lost its fangs. But that doesn't mean he can be ignored. Do you know why?"

"Because he has nothing left to lose."

Valdemar nodded.

"They say there's no grief greater than losing a child. When people reach that point, they tend to go to extremes. They either give in to despair... or they embrace anger. Consilus chose resignation, while Yurei chose anger."

"Is that so?"

"And do you think you can stop that anger?"

Ferda didn't know.

Anger was like fire.

Once a fire had grown beyond control, even Ferda could not afford to underestimate it.

Seeing that Ferda could not answer immediately, Valdemar took his silence as an answer and continued.

"You seem far wiser than I first imagined, so I think we can have a productive conversation. First, though, I need another drink. What about you?"

"My cup is still half full." 1

"I see. Then I'll drink alone."

The Attendant cleared away the glass that contained nothing but melting ice and placed a fresh one before him.

"Do you know how I've managed to survive in this world for so long?"

"I do not."

"It's because I'm a patriot. Even at my age, I haven't retired because I still care deeply about this nation."

He emptied another mouthful of whiskey before continuing.

"The Empire is in turmoil right now. Farmers who should be tending their fields are gathering together, turning into thugs that disturb public order. They're becoming rats that gnaw away at the nation."

At first, it sounded like drunken rambling.

Yet there wasn't the slightest trace of wavering in Valdemar's eyes.

Curious, Ferda asked,

"If you love this country that much, why not rule it yourself?"

He certainly possessed the ability to cast aside the incompetent Emperor and his equally incompetent children.

"Rule it myself... If I truly wanted to, it would've been possible."

Valdemar smiled faintly, as though amused by Ferda's question.

"But what would happen if I overthrew the Emperor? The rise of a new sun would only throw the political landscape into chaos. That would make me nothing more than a fool blindly climbing the mountain of power—not a traitor to the nation. I have no desire for such a thing."

There was only one truth in those words that Ferda could acknowledge.

If Valdemar had truly set his mind to it, he really could have become Emperor.

After finishing his second glass of whiskey, Valdemar smacked his lips in satisfaction.

"Let me ask you something. Are you a patriot?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps that was too vague. What I mean is this: if the Empire ordered you to die, could you do it?"

"No."

Ferda answered without hesitation.

"They tried to strip me of everything just today. How could I possibly pledge such loyalty?"

"Wouldn't you like to become a dog?"

"I already am one. But just as there cannot be two suns beneath the heavens, I too have only one master."

Ordinarily, Valdemar would have scoffed at such words.

But this time, he simply stared at Ferda in silence.

So Ferda asked him directly,

"Will you punish me because I refuse to betray my lord?"

"Of course not. Those rats already make up more than half of the Golden Council. I could kill every last one of them and reshape the balance of power, but I won't. History merely repeats itself."

No matter how extraordinary a person might be, no one could change the hearts of every human being.

"More importantly, I received one promise from the Emperor."

Above all else, there was only one thing to which Valdemar remained obsessively devoted.

"Which is why I have no choice but to ask you."

"Please."

"What do you think of Princess Olivia?"

The moment Valdemar spoke her name, Ferda looked directly into his eyes.

Within them burned the fiery passion of a man.

Or perhaps...an indescribable obsession and madness.

Read more chapters here - Apexnovelhub.com