“Sebastian, isn’t there any precedent for this?!”
This was the first time Konrad had raised his voice at Sebastian, the Lord Minister of the Center and one of his most trusted advisors. Having returned late at night after storming out, Conrad was now making unreasonable demands on the retainers who had accompanied him back.
Translator’s Note
The author uses Nakatsukasa-kyō (中務卿 ) which is a high-ranking ministerial position in historical Japanese court structures, roughly translating to “Minister of the Center.”
“Speaking of precedents, do you perhaps mean the matter we discussed earlier, regarding the imperial license for that tavern to use prohibited vanilla?”
“Not that one. Not that one, Sebastian. The matter of calling off the matchmaking meeting.”
Sebastian shook his head, his expression clearly saying, “Don’t be absurd.”
Sebastian, counted among the Nobles of the Robe as a jurist hailing from university rather than hereditary aristocracy, was an elderly minister reputed to remember every precedent, past and present, concerning the Empire.
Translator’s Note
Nobles of the Robe (法服貴族 – hōfuku kizoku) refers to aristocrats who derived their rank from holding certain judicial or administrative posts, often non-hereditary initially, similar to the French noblesse de robe.
Known as the previous Emperor’s right-hand man, he had been passed down along with the throne. He was also an astute leader of the bureaucracy, renowned even in neighboring countries.
“Your Majesty, this matter does not concern you alone. It is an issue for the Empire.”
“Indeed. An issue for the Empire is an issue for the Emperor, and an issue for the Emperor is an issue for the Empire.”
“Cease this childish sophistry. If you break off the engagement meeting with the Princess Regent, it could very well lead to war.”
The current king of the Eastern Kingdom, Hugues, was young. Real power was held by the Princess Regent and her administration.
In other words, refusing the meeting with Princess Regent Celestine de Oiria would effectively be a grave insult to the Eastern Kingdom itself.
“…Could we win?”
“We have no intention of losing should it come to war. However, it would be pointless.”
Judging by his tone, Sebastian seemed unable to gauge Conrad’s true intentions. While he appeared to trust that the Emperor wasn’t seriously suggesting starting a war simply because he disliked the miai, he apparently had no clue as to the actual cause.
He would never have imagined it was because Konrad had fallen in love at first sight with some noble’s daughter he had only met the day before.
In the legal universe inhabited by Sebastian, a man who seemed born for the law, raised for the law, and living for the law, while the inference of motive might exist, the very concept of ‘love’ seemed unlikely to feature.
But now, Sebastian was the only one Conrad felt he could rely on.
More than anything to do with the engagement meeting, I just want to see Celes again.
“Sebastian, I need you to listen without laughing.”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. I haven’t laughed once in these past thirty years.”
“Ah, yes. So you haven’t.”
Conrad ordered the room cleared, facing Sebastian who had delivered this jest-like remark with a deadpan expression.
“…Sebastian, I have discovered love.”
At Conrad’s words, Sebastian’s aquiline nose twitched, and he seemed to be suppressing something.
“Is that so? Congratulations.”
“You congratulate me?”
“Better late than never. A life without love is like a painting without color.”
“Knowing you, austere man that you are, I expected a scolding.”
“Your Majesty, though I may appear this way now, up until thirty-one years ago, this Sebastian was known as a pleasant young man whom a smile suited well, deepening his knowledge of the world’s secrets alongside the ladies of society.”
Hearing this statement, which could have been a joke or perhaps not, Konrad’s expression softened slightly.
Come to think of it, he realized, I feel like I’ve been angry all day.
“Well then, Your Majesty. Late though it may be, love is love. How shall we proceed?”
“You’ll support me?”
“Certainly not. This is to ensure the success of the engagement. If you attend it in your current state of mind, you will merely offend the Princess Regent. If seeing this girl once will help you settle down, then isn’t that for the best?”
“Ah, so that’s your angle.”
“Precisely. After all, your counterpart is Princess Regent Celestine de Oiria. She is the political prodigy sired by the famed <Hero King>. The usual, rational Emperor Conrad V might be a match for her, but a Conrad smitten by love would stand no chance.”
Having bluntly stated his piece, Sebastian offered a smile for the first time in thirty years.
“So then, what is the name of this woman who holds the key to Your Majesty’s heart, a heart that has remained stubbornly locked for thirty-seven years? Pray, confide only in your loyal servant, Sebastian von Hohenbach.”
“…Her name is Celes.”
As Conrad confessed, mustering his courage, Sebastian’s aquiline nose twitched once more. I’ve suspected this before, Conrad thought, but isn’t he trying to hold back laughter?
“Celes there, and Celes here as well? If they happened to be one and the same, it would certainly save us the trouble of searching.”
“That’s hardly likely. This isn’t some romance novel.”
“They do say, ‘Truth is stranger than fiction,’ Your Majesty.”
“Baedeker?”
“No, unfortunately. That was Krowinkel.”
Quoting famous bards, Sebastian was already retrieving the peerage directory from a trunk.
It was an almanac published annually by the Imperial College of Arms, compiling a list of everyone holding a noble title within the Empire. While the names of sons and daughters were generally included, it lacked an index.
“The name Celes has more of an Eastern Kingdom flavor, so it isn’t particularly common within the Empire. That said, it’s not enough to narrow the search significantly. Ah, here’s one… apologies, she is fifty-nine years old.”
“She looked to be around seventeen to twenty, I believe.”
Sebastian’s hand paused as he turned the pages.
“The other Celes is nineteen, I believe.”
“I told you to stop bringing up the other Celes! Or are you planning to make your name as a romance bard rather than a jurist?”
“I may have dabbled two or three times during my impoverished student days. Forging Krowinkel’s love poems, for example.”
“Krowinkel never wrote love poems!”
“Precisely why they’re so rare and valuable. I took great pains to make the parchment look authentic, so some might still be in circulation.”
While spinning these potentially fabricated tales, Sebastian’s hands never stopped moving. In moments, dozens of potential Celes candidates were identified, and Conrad examined each one.
However, as the almanac lacked portraits, there was insufficient information to narrow down the possibilities.
“This particular Miss Celes’s mother has fiery red hair.”
“I suppose she could have inherited it from her father, but what about him?”
“…When I first had the pleasure of meeting him, he was already quite bald.”
The candidates for the Celes with silver-rimmed glasses dwindled from dozens down to ten, then five, then three through elimination. Finally, not a single one remained.
“There are a few potential candidates remaining, but their family estates are located far from the Old Capital.”
“A dead end, then.”
Could the assumption that she was a noble have been wrong?
If she were a merchant, or of some other status, or perhaps a noble not listed in the almanac, or even foreign nobility, this method would be useless.
“There are other methods. It is too early to despair.”