Epilogue

The Silver Room’s walls were coated with mortar mixed with lime, giving it an ashen hue. It seemed far too bleary to belong to the magnificent and lavish royal castle. The room was empty, aside from a gorgeous chair, which clashed with its bleak surroundings.

As a favored class within the kingdom, most nobles would get away with a light slap on the wrist or a small fine for their misdeeds—up to a point. Any noble found to have committed a serious crime was taken to the Silver Room to receive their sentence directly from the king. Very few escaped with a sentence lighter than death.

In this world, there were no courtrooms or trials to identify whether a person had done right or wrong; nothing to determine the weight of their punishment. In this world, everything fell under the king’s judgment. Despite the favoritism he might show toward certain classes, the range of sentences he gave out was extremely limited.

Today, Marquess Cau Gaston was brought before the prince, Ceylan Crosellode. There, in the Silver Room, he was to be judged for his corruption, kidnapping, and conspiracy to harm the daughters of another noble family.

No longer dressed in his flashy noble wear, the marquess instead donned a shabby robe to denote his status as a criminal. A shadow of his former, majestic self, the most he managed was to shave his haggard face for his audience with royalty. Bruises dotted his arms and legs, still fresh from his interrogation.

Above him, in the single chair, sat the prince, staring down at him listlessly and leaning his chin on his hand. His white clothes were adorned with blue and gold embroidery, much like the Asian royalty of the man’s world. Not one inch of his skin was exposed, and his face was covered by a dark veil.

In the presence of the prince, Gaston was totally ensnared by panic. Even in his final moments facing Arcus, he was able to keep his composure. But now he kept his forehead plastered to the floor as he begged for forgiveness. His entire body was trembling and covered in a sheen of cold sweat. He knew his fate was already sealed.

But it wasn’t just fear of death that caused the marquess to shake. It was Ceylan’s rage. The quiet rage that he could feel emanating from beneath the prince’s veil. That rage seemed to pierce the marquess’s skin, its weight crushing down on him like he was a bug beneath the prince’s heel. It wasn’t just Gaston who could feel it, either, but the witnesses and Ceylan’s guards, too. Everyone present shook in fear at the prince’s silent rage. After a long, long time, he finally opened his mouth.

“On behalf of my father, Shinlu Crosellode, I shall be leading these proceedings. Are there any objections?” His voice, similar in tone to a young boy’s, echoed around the room.

In perfect, choreographed unison, the guards pierced the ground with their spearheads and stamped one foot.

“As citizens of the kingdom...”

“We have not a single objection...”

“Against the honorable will...”

“Of Your Royal Highness!”

Their declaration stopped cleanly at the exact same moment. Eulid Rain, the proficient young guard by the prince’s side, spoke.

“Raise your head, Marquess. His Royal Highness is giving you an opportunity to speak.”

“S-Sir!” Gaston replied, though he kept his head firmly on the floor.

It was well known in the kingdom that one mustn’t raise their head the first time permission was given.

“Raise your head.”

Once the order was repeated, Gaston did as he was told, setting his eyes upon the prince’s dark veil. It slanted to one side along with the prince’s cocked head, giving just a small glimpse of his mouth.

“Y-Your Royal Highness, it is an honor for me to be here in Your Royal Highness’s exalted presence. The grievances I have committed in this kingdom are utterly inexcusable.” Gaston paused, swallowing before he went on. “I understand completely that I have shown an egregious error of judgment; however, if I might speak in my defense...”

“Are you saying you object to my decision in this matter?” Ceylan interrupted.

“O-Of course not! I would never... H-However...”

“That’s enough, Marquess. If you have no objections, there is no need to continue, unless you are trying to mock His Royal Highness?” Eulid warned sharply, causing Gaston to cower.

Eulid’s intimidating air was different from Ceylan’s, and similar to what Gaston felt when he was brought to the noblemen in his own garden. It was the kind that only a soldier could possess. Of course, it didn’t hold a candle to the count’s overwhelming presence, but combined with the intimidation he felt from the prince, Gaston could barely keep his thoughts together.

But he wasn’t completely overwhelmed. He couldn’t afford to be; if he kept his mouth shut here, he would be beyond saving. He had to keep talking, disrespectful as it was.

“P-Please! Sir, please hear my defense!”

“How dare you?!” Eulid glared daggers at the marquess.

If this were a battlefield, he would already have lost his head.

Ceylan raised a hand to stop Eulid. “I shall hear your defense, Marquess. Speak.”

“Sir! I have always worked diligently for the sake of the kingdom and its development. I would humbly ask that Your Royal Highness not forget that when sentencing me!”

“Ah. I will admit that, with everything you have offered this kingdom, you have the right to make such a request. I am well aware of your generous donations and their salutary effect on the kingdom.”

“D-Does that mean—”

“That I will lessen your sentence? You would like me to weigh your service to this country against the severity of your crimes?”

“Th-That’s right, sir!” Gaston cried.

All at once, he could feel every guard in the room glaring at him. Ceylan, however, remained calm.

“Despite your services, the depth of your corruption is undeniable. Not only have you pulled the wool over the eyes of the Crown, but over the eyes of the entire kingdom and its citizens.”

“But it was all for the kingdom, sir! It was all to make Lainur stronger... better! My evil deeds had a virtuous purpose!”

“A virtuous purpose?”

“Exactly, sir! If I could only be granted some of Your Royal Highness’s infinite mercy...” Gaston lowered his forehead to the floor once more to show that he was done talking.

Ceylan let out a sigh. It wasn’t until its echoes had disappeared into the air that he spoke once more. “My generous father has overlooked your minor transgressions more than once in the past. What he saw as wit and intelligence within you was nothing more than crafty laziness.”

“S-Sir! I promise, I shall do everything I can to change my ways!”

“I was speaking of your minor transgressions only. This time, you have been brought to the Silver Room. Surely you understand what that means?”

“Sir...” Gaston didn’t know how to answer.

Ceylan’s next words were full of exasperation. “So you don’t understand. By your actions, you have threatened the carefully balanced web of bonds that preserves Lainur’s nobility. It was your duty to unite the nobles should this kingdom fall into a crisis, and yet you created a fissure of suspicion between them. Do you really believe I can overlook such a heinous crime?”

If relations between nobles were damaged, other kingdoms could use that weakness as a point of attack, either politically or militarily. Either way, Lainur would fall. Powerful as the kingdom was, there were several other kingdoms which outclassed it. That was why its nobles were expected to unite in an emergency, by order of the royal family.

“F-From now on I shall work even harder for the sake of the kingdom! Please! Please, have mercy on me! I am willing to change my ways!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir! I swear, if I am pardoned, I shall work myself to the bone for Lainur and for Your Royal Highness!”

Ceylan didn’t reply immediately, instead sinking into thought. To the marquess, it seemed like an eternity before the prince finally spoke again.

“I see. I am impressed by the strength of your spirit.”

“S-Sir! Does that mean—”

“Yes.” Ceylan nodded.

Relief washed through Gaston. The prince heard his pleas and decided to show compassion. Despite the sudden change in Ceylan’s attitude, Gaston was sure of it. The intimidating air coming off the prince before had completely vanished, as though he was never enraged in the first place.

Just then, Gaston had a thought. He promised to work himself to the bone for the kingdom and the prince, but what if the prince took particular note of that last part? What if that had been his plan all along, to bring Gaston here and take his vast financial power for himself by putting him in his debt? To claim Gaston’s newly-found, unshakeable loyalty?

It was quite the scheme. It was no wonder that he was rumored to be some sort of mythical beast by those in other kingdoms. The people would even talk of how the prince’s infinite mercy was enough to have the corrupt marquess change his ways.

A muffled chuckle escaped from underneath Ceylan’s veil. It was a low, chilling sound. Surely, he was laughing because everything was going according to plan. Nevertheless, at least Gaston’s sentence was going to be reduced. To think he was trembling like a baby rabbit just moments earlier. Frustrating as it was to be at the mercy of a mere child, Gaston was just relieved that he could escape death.

Relief thawing the wheels of his frozen mind, his thoughts moved to what he would do next. First, he would deal with the man who interrogated him. Teach him a lesson by showing him exactly how much pain and humiliation he put Gaston through.

Then there was the boy who caused him to end up here in the first place. Gaston swore he would make him and his allies suffer.

That damned brat...

He would suffer most of all. Even when he was flat on the floor and begging forgiveness, it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the marquess. Gaston would tear off each of his limbs one by one and, when he was helpless as a caterpillar, kill him in the most brutal way possible. That was the only way Gaston could ever get over what the boy did to him. Just imagining it sent a thrill through his chest.

At that moment, Ceylan spoke again. This was it. The moment Gaston would receive a slap on the wrist. The moment the prince would hold him under his thumb for the rest of his days.

“Cau Gaston. I hereby sentence you to death in the name of the King. Your death shall be of far greater service to the kingdom than anything you did during your life.”

“What?!”

Gaston couldn’t believe his ears. Death. Beheading. Hanging. His life. Gone.

Why was this happening? The prince listened to his defense! He was prepared to show mercy!

Gaston always thought that the prince valued what was beneficial over what was right—just like Gaston himself. That was why he was so sure his life would be spared if he used the rest of it to serve the kingdom.

“You are a pathetic creature. I am not naive enough to fall for your tricks, either,” the prince said coolly.

“Wh-What...?”

“I could see your mind moving the moment you caught the faintest whiff of mercy. I have no doubt you leapt instantly to conniving and retribution; in your putrid, gormless cynicism, you drew the conclusion that I meant to bring you to heel.”

“B-But, Your Royal Highness!”

“Cau Gaston. Money and status cannot be used to solve every problem, as you seem to believe. The only reason you are here now is because humans are wont to act according to emotion.”

It was then that Gaston remembered how his actions from years ago prevented him from buying the loyalty of one of the boy’s allies. Was that what the prince was alluding to? But there was no way he knew about that...

“I can see them now. Years worth of regrets, swarming around you.”

The marquess let out a small squeak as a chill ran up his spine. A chill of despair, as though he were facing a terrible beast.

Who was this sitting before him? Was it even human?

Those questions whirled around Gaston’s mind as he failed to produce an answer.

“Your Royal Highness...” he stuttered.

“My judgment is final. I trust you have no objections? As I recall, you mentioned a few moments ago that you wanted to work for Lainur, yes?”

The prince laughed. It was the exact same scornful chuckle as before. So this was the prince’s plan all along.

“Wh-Why you...!” Gaston glared at Ceylan, his voice thick with venom.

To speak to royalty in such a manner was utterly unthinkable, but Ceylan hardly seemed to care.

“There we are. Now your true colors are on display for all to see. I suppose this is where some people get the idea that the nobility are swine that walk like men.”

The moment Gaston started glaring at the prince, his guard began to move. But Caylan raised a hand.

“That’s all right, Eulid. Stand down.”

“Sir. Forgive me, but as part of the royal guard, I cannot allow this man to show you such disrespect.”

“Do not make me repeat myself, Eulid. I have already sentenced this man to death. You wouldn’t want to undermine my sentence, would you?”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Then stand down. Now is not the time for you to act.”

The next moment, Gaston felt the prince’s glare on him from under his veil, forcing another choked squeak from him. His body began to tremble. The threat he felt now was a hundred times worse than that he felt when he was first brought here. A hundred times worse than anything Eulid or the nobles of the eastern military houses could muster.

Gaston’s body urged him to escape from under that gaze as soon as possible. Unable to resist his instincts, he spun around and began to run.

The guards made no move to follow him. They must have been under orders not to, for whatever reason. Gaston wasn’t far from the door now. His mind screamed at him that no one had given chase, and so escape must be close.

“Cau Gaston. The King and those around him are not human. A fool like you would do well to understand that.”

The next second, the marquess tripped and sprawled onto the floor. When he tried to get up, his legs wouldn’t listen to him. He tried to grunt in frustration, but his lungs struggled to draw breath. It was as though the air around him was thinning, as though his organs were slowly being crushed, one by one. All from the immense pressure that Ceylan radiated.

Gaston turned to look over his shoulder. There, his eyes met that dark veil, staring unwaveringly in his direction.

“Pl... Please... help...” Gaston’s whimpers evaporated into the air.

Ceylan began to mutter a spell from the royal arcana, secret to all but the lineage of the kings of Lainur.

Artglyphs floated up around the prince. They circled rapidly before crashing into each other with a loud crack. The collisions created several blue flashes, which crashed into the mortar walls and sent a flurry of stone whirling around the room.

There was a strange scent in the air. If Arcus were here, he might have been able to inform the marquess that it was the smell of ozone.

Ceylan brought a hand up lazily in front of him, and the blue lights began to gather there, waiting for his bidding. He opened his mouth.

“...of judgment...”

Those blue, burning-hot lights rushed toward the marquess with a thunderous roar, drowning out his screams and booming in the ears of everyone in the room. After the blinding flash of blue-white light faded, the charred remains of Cau Gaston’s body came into view.

For a while, the room was in total silence, until at last the guards remembered to breathe. They knew the prince was capable of much more powerful magic than that, and yet they were still left with a dreadful fear in their hearts.

Ceylan studied the marquess’s remains for a while before speaking again.

“Now, Eulid. Did you manage to track down the mastermind behind this plot?”

“Sir. The mastermind was killed on the night Cau Gaston was captured.”

“Did the Chief Officer silence him, I wonder?”

“No, sir. According to the report, the Raythefts’ son killed him almost immediately after finishing his attack on the marquess’s estate.”

“Hm. It seems this Arcus boy is rather sagacious,” Ceylan murmured.

“Sir, I can have Arcus Raytheft brought here. He did, after all, launch an attack on a high-ranking noble. Perhaps he ought to be punished, too.”

“That will not be necessary,” said Ceylan. “This was a dispute between a number of noble households, and they have solved it among themselves. There is no need for the crown to suddenly start poking its nose where it does not belong.”

“And what if one side is dissatisfied with the result? I fear they might try to take it out on the crown...”

“That is not a concern. I have already made arrangements to have the marquess replaced, and his affiliates kept under my thumb.”

“Is that really wise?”

“It is enough. We have seized the marquess’s territory. If I were to ask for any more control than that, my father would tell me I was being greedy.”

“Very well, sir.”

With the matter settled, Ceylan let out a laugh. “I suppose I ought to be grateful to Arcus Raytheft. Not only did he catch one of the fattest rats in our kingdom, but he also dealt with the pest running around the Surveillance Office. We didn’t even need to lift a finger.”

The officer had the guts not only to stand up against nobility, but to go through with his plans to trap the marquess. If he were still alive, he would probably expect some sort of reward. Ceylan had no intention of appearing to endorse such cloak-and-dagger antics, even behind closed doors, but it would have been an annoyance nonetheless—one Arcus thankfully expunged before it started.

Ceylan returned his gaze to Gaston’s corpse. “Cau Gaston. Your existence was a poison to this land and its people. While you might have further filled the kingdom’s coffers, your influence would rot it from within. Getting rid of you was the best thing I could have done.”

Ceylan paused, allowing the echo of his words to dissipate before letting out a sigh. “And with that, our kingdom is on the path to power once more.”