Mess 147
by Cristae147.
The day she visited the Imperial Palace.
Seraphie had a long conversation with the Emperor, discussing the events that were to unfold. Their talks stretched on for quite some time.
Among their subjects was the matter of the temple.
‘My aunt, the woman who gave birth to my younger sister, was imprisoned in Paradise.’
‘Paradise? You don’t mean 66-6 Parsar Street?’
‘Iris’s youngest and my escort infiltrated the place and confirmed her safety.’
Karl and Pura had scouted the city outskirts and Paradise; the place where a mother, robbed of her child, had been kept was indeed Paradise.
Karl brought back an entry permit from the site as evidence. Once Pura brought the woman from the underground prison to Seraphie, she returned her again to the cell.
Until the appointed day, she secretly sneaked in to keep the woman company and watched over her.
The documents on the temple’s vicious usury were obtained by Loony with a little creative maneuvering.
After gathering everything necessary, Seraphie reported it to the Emperor on the day she had an audience.
‘Good heavens…’
Examining the evidence Seraphie had brought, the Emperor covered his forehead in shock.
But that lasted only a moment.
‘…The moment you’re in the temple will be our only chance.’
Between his fingers, the Emperor’s eyes glinted as he wiped his face repeatedly.
And as promised, while Seraphie was kept occupied at the temple, the Emperor dispatched the Imperial Knights to raid Paradise.
Scheming for a petty advantage, the temple collapsed in an instant.
The high priest was immediately arrested by the Imperial Knights, who had followed Karl. The charges were extensive—kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, human trafficking, threats, extortion, illegal money-lending, and more.
Many priests who had followed him were similarly arrested for their share of the crimes.
With the corruption of the temple laid bare for all to see, the people readily pointed fingers and hurled curses, as if they’d been waiting for this moment.
But the imperial state religion, the temple venerating the god of flowers and plants, could not yet be toppled.
‘That must not happen.’
There was still too much work for them to do.
Rising from her seat, Seraphie began preparing to go out.
“Marin, the carriage?”
“It’s being readied outside. Your escort is waiting.”
“My lady.”
Outside, Pura—dressed smartly in uniform—bowed her head in greeting.
At the sight, Seraphie let out a laugh.
“Oh my, what’s this!”
“Handsome, right? Isn’t it?”
“Just full of empty show, aren’t you?”
“A proper escort for a noble must have presence, after all.”
“Quite right.”
Seraphie, taking Pura’s hand, climbed into the carriage—her destination, the Imperial Palace.
Recognizing Seraphie’s carriage, the palace servants greeted her with proper courtesy.
“His Majesty is awaiting you.”
A chamberlain personally guided Seraphie to the audience room.
“Count Validus!”
A familiar voice rang behind her. Turning, Seraphie’s eyes widened.
“Your Highness!”
Ex approached, wearing his usual friendly smile. He insisted on showing her the way himself, dismissing the attendant.
“When did you arrive?”
“Early this morning.”
“Good heavens…”
Only then did Seraphie notice the fatigue etched in Ex’s face. There were shadows beneath his eyes; he looked as though he’d run here on no sleep at all.
“That’s the knight I saw that time, isn’t it?”
Yet Ex seemed livelier than ever.
“Glad to meet you again. Was it Pura?”
“It’s not quite an honor to see you again, but I’ll say it is for form’s sake.”
Ex responded with good cheer, even to Pura’s offhanded greeting.
On their way to the audience chamber, Seraphie and Ex exchanged quick greetings and updates.
The mages in Validus were thriving, and with Glake joining, the foundry had begun operating in earnest.
And the invention jointly developed by Validus, the Mage Tower, and the Imperial Family had finally been completed.
Ex had cut short his sleep and hurried to the capital to present it to the Emperor.
“By the way, Count…”
Ex’s tone softened with sympathy.
“There was trouble with the temple again, wasn’t there?”
“At this rate, I fear I’ll get stoned just for walking down the street.”
“Lady Luck does not favor you. You ought to undergo a purification ritual or something.”
“The very temple that’s supposed to provide purification is the one causing me all this trouble.”
Seraphie ignored Ex’s barely-stifled laughter beside her.
“He seems a little unhinged, doesn’t he?” whispered Pura.
Seraphie gave her a silent nod of agreement.
“By the way.”
Ex, having composed himself, mentioned he’d brought something from Validus territory.
“Fenny asked me to hand you something. Seemed to be a book?”
“So Your Highness carried it yourself.”
“I sent it to your residence a little while ago, so it should be there when you return.”
“Thank you.”
Their conversation ended just as they arrived at the audience chamber.
Only then did Seraphie notice Ex’s attire.
“……”
He was usually a bit disheveled, but today there was not a thing out of place. Even the ornamental buttons on his sleeves were needlessly elegant.
“…Have you steeled yourself?”
Seraphie, gazing at the door, asked quietly. No sound filtered through it, but it was clear someone was announcing their arrival to the Emperor.
“To tell the truth, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
Ex’s voice trembled slightly.
“But there’s no help for it.”
Brushing back his hair, Ex straightened himself. The sharp angles of his features brought to mind the Empress.
And the Emperor, too.
“I don’t want to die…”
Just then, the doors began to open.
“So all I can do is struggle.”
His resolution, though serious, felt tinged with sorrow.
“Your Highness.”
Just before entering, Seraphie spoke.
“That’s called legitimate self-defense.”
“……”
“Step up. I’ll be your support.”
As Ex’s eyes widened, they quickly curved in a smile.
On a winter’s day, just before spring.
Two pieces of news spread across the empire.
One was the creation of a magic conductor made from a new material. Developed through the collaboration of Validus, the Mage Tower, and the Imperial Family, this new substance boasted unprecedented magic conductivity.
Moreover, successful experiments of long-distance magical communication using it were announced.
The clandestine success was met with roaring praise. The Emperor entrusted full responsibility for this project to the third prince.
And the second news—
“May it blossom on this land as it does in the breath of the gods…”
A solemn prayer resounded through the temple.
“Watch over your young one, that her heart may echo the will of Heaven…”
The newly chosen high priest was a young man. With grave and devout heart, he administered the baptismal rite to Seraphie.
Before the eyes of countless nobles.
There were more spectators gathered in the temple than on the day the rumors of Validus’s illegitimate child had thrown everything into turmoil.
The imperial family was present as well.
The high priest lifted a linen cloth, dripping with holy water, above Seraphie’s head. Droplets fell from the cloth, soaking the translucent veil and trickling over Seraphie’s forehead.
“…May the gods ever keep watch over you, sister.”
When the ceremony ended, thunderous applause erupted.
Helped to her feet by the priests, Seraphie exchanged a nod with the high priest.
“To a new beginning.”
As Seraphie returned to her seat, the Emperor ascended the altar.
“How glad I am to make this announcement, here where the will of the gods resides.”
The Emperor’s powerful voice filled the temple.
“I hereby proclaim a new law.”
It was the Poor Relief Act.
The bill’s first sponsor was none other than Countess Seraphie Validus.
After the ceremony.
Returning to her mansion, Seraphie collapsed on the sofa.
“Our countess!”
Ex, who had come along, clapped his hands and cooed in admiration. His broad grin was enough to send chills down any viewer’s spine.
“I’m so proud, I could just gobble you up!”
“Ugh.”
Seraphie’s face fell. The clownish display from Ex reminded her of Duke Felikia. Orkis, standing by, clearly thought the same—the look on his face said as much.
“The Empire’s future is bleak.”
The crown prince is trash, and his brother is just as mad.
Pura muttered as she toyed with a boomerang she’d picked up on the street.
Loony, next to her, murmured an outrageous thought.
“Maybe we’d be better off turning the Empire into a puppet state.”
“What’s that?”
“You set up a powerless king, then control things from behind the scenes.”
“Ah, like a figurehead?”
While the would-be traitors continued their conversation, Ex turned to Seraphie.
“The Poor Relief Act is quite something.”
Ex praised the law, but Seraphie was less enthusiastic.
‘Is it really such a big deal…?’
Welfare, she thought, was the sort of thing any society needed once a basic system was in place.
‘Frankly, what’s strange is that the Empire didn’t have anything like this until now.’
Magic existed in this world, but that didn’t mean technology or science lagged behind.
The heavy machinery she’d seen at mines on lands abandoned by the gods, the foundry in Validus territory, the chemical knowledge for making even fertilizer.
‘But somehow…’
It all felt oddly stagnant.
Perhaps, a period of transition.
To Seraphie, the Empire was rigidly set in its ways. The culture was ready to blossom with only a spark, yet people simply hadn’t noticed.
‘I was lucky.’
She had caught onto it, almost unconsciously, and seized the initiative.
Via’s distinctive painting style, the fruit friends sold at Loony’s shop, and now, the Poor Relief Act she’d just pushed through.
‘This will be a good spark.’
The Empire would advance all the more, and the neglected area of welfare would have to take shape to keep pace.
‘If not…’
Seraphie involuntarily rubbed her arm.
At her first councillor’s meeting, she’d learned just how many vagrants and orphans wandered the capital.
In the original story, the crown prince’s side succeeded in land speculation, leaving these vagrants and orphans homeless.
But their existence never once made it into the narrative.
By common sense, when large numbers of homeless are left with nowhere to go, serious social problems should arise.
Unable to adapt, people would make mistakes and cause accidents, or even turn to deliberate crime, giving the Empire a terrible headache—
‘But in the original, nothing like that happened.’
In the moment she wondered why, a face came to mind.
The madman who murdered, all while wearing the mask of the protagonist.
“…Sera?”
Just as she was sinking into reverie, Orkis called softly.
“Are you all right?”
He looked at her with genuine concern.
“I’m just…”
Seraphie made no effort to hide her fatigue.
“I’m realizing just how much more there is left to do.”
“That’s precisely why we’re here—to keep you from bearing it alone.”
At those words, Seraphie looked at those gathered before her.
“……”
It had been less than a year since she resolved not to form any close attachments, to run doggedly ahead by herself.
And yet she was already surrounded by people she could no longer imagine pushing away.