Mess 188
by Cristae188.
“Are we certain that the corpse is Lady Baglosa?”
At the crown prince’s question, the messenger nodded with solemn gravity.
“The hair on the corpse is dark green, and the bone structure also indicates a woman. Additionally, there is a mark on the partially burned thigh that identifies her as Lady Baglosa.”
“A mark?”
“She was born with a large birthmark on her thigh, which Lady Baglosa’s nurse has confirmed.”
“……”
With an inscrutable expression, the crown prince turned to the empress.
“Mother, then I will take my leave.”
“Yes, go.”
The empress sighed and brushed her bangs aside.
Just before turning away, the crown prince’s gaze lingered on his father’s rueful expression, and for a fleeting moment, a strange sense of relief crossed his own face.
The council of elders reconvened exactly ten days after the murder of Count Baglosa.
As soon as word spread, a throng had gathered before the Consilium.
Reporters, taking advantage of the nobles’ unrest after the horrifying incident, flocked to cover Count Validus’s story, while curious onlookers, eager to gawk at a man who had narrowly escaped death, mingled among them.
And to keep all these people at bay, the number of guards had swelled, far more than usual.
“There, the Validus carriage has arrived!”
“What? Where?”
“Count Validus is stepping out!”
Recognizing the carriage emblazoned with the Validus crest, voices erupted from the crowd.
But the guards drew their swords even faster, forming a barrier.
In that moment, Count Validus—Seraphie—descended from the carriage.
With Lady Orkys’s assistance, Seraphie left the carriage without casting so much as a glance at those around her and entered the Consilium.
Though not intentional, her unruffled, emotionless expression bore down on the crowd.
Journalists, who had intended to bombard Seraphie with malicious questions, instinctively hesitated, stunned into silence.
“…Was her expression always so frightening?”
“It seems so, doesn’t it?”
“Thinks of herself as a proper noble now, apparently.”
“She could kill with a look.”
The two reporters, exchanging banter as if it were nothing, had written venomous pieces about the Validus bastard that spring for a yellow journal.
“……”
“……”
But the pens and notepads in their hands trembled violently.
Inside, the Consilium room was more silent than ever.
Even though Seraphie had set out earlier than usual, the chamber was already filled with nobles.
Orkys and Luni ascended to the seats behind the main floor, while Seraphie took her place beside Duke Felicia.
“You don’t seem to have fared well.”
Duke Felicia cast a sidelong glance at Seraphie.
“Does it show?”
Seraphie replied in a deliberately gentle tone.
“I thought I’d slept decently enough, yet here I am—how unfair.”
“Oh dear.”
Duke Felicia frowned slightly.
Seraphie left it at that and, already weary, let out a long sigh.
“…Count Validus.”
Just then.
“You look quite fatigued.”
It was Count Loria, seated opposite, speaking for the first time.
“……”
Instead of answering, Seraphie narrowed her eyes sharply.
A single eyebrow naturally rose, expressing both suspicion and skepticism.
As if to say, Why are you speaking to me?
Other nobles on the same side were unable to conceal their own displeasure.
Count Loria responded with a most benevolent smile. It was the kind of kind, harmless expression that could easily win over hearts.
“It’s only out of concern. My children were about the same age as the count, after all. I suppose I feel fatherly…”
The mention of his son, so recently buried, brought a gleam of sorrow to his eyes.
Nobles nearby sympathized and offered him their condolences. Some even took out handkerchiefs to dab at their tears.
“…Is that so.”
Seraphie herself showed little reaction, her tone almost mocking.
“My father once split my head with a bottle.”
“……”
“So, if you’re saying I almost died…”
She paused, her glance sideways.
“…there’s really no need to mention it.”
The awkward tension in the chamber only deepened, the air growing colder.
“It pains me to think I may further wound someone who has endured so much in so little time.”
“Count Validus!”
Baron Catio, nearby, interjected.
“What a rude remark! Count Loria is only expressing concern—!”
“I feel the same,
Seraphie cut him off flatly, not even sparing him a glance.
“From an excess of concern, I too ventured to overstep.”
“What, what overstepping—?”
“I only worry that talking through me might remind you of your departed child, and should that bring you fresh grief, I would hate to be the cause.”
“……”
“It’s a sentiment born of a child’s feelings toward their own father.”
Isn’t that right?
Seraphie asked while scanning the agenda for today’s meeting.
She met no one’s eyes, nor even raised her head.
Yet her meaning reached Count Loria just the same.
“……”
No reply returned.
Seraphie did not bother to look up to see what expression Count Loria wore.
She continued leafing through documents, focusing solely on the agenda.
But behind her, Orkys and Luni watched Count Loria’s face and manner closely.
“…He seems odd, doesn’t he?”
Luni whispered at a volume only Orkys could hear.
Orkys, too, agreed.
A moment ago, Seraphie had issued a pointed warning. If the provocations continued, she’d treat them just as she had her own father.
The crown prince’s faction of nobles had recoiled in open discomfort.
Yet the one who had received the brunt of Seraphie’s warning, Count Loria, showed surprise of a wholly different kind—like a child confronted with something entirely unexpected, curious and, in a way, almost guilelessly awestruck.
“……”
This only made Orkys feel more unsettled.
Something indescribable set off alarms in his mind.
Had he a sword at his belt, Orkys thought he might have drawn it already as a warning to Count Loria.
No more glances at Seraphie.
But that nameless sense of dread was soon pushed aside by the crown prince and Ex’s entrance into the chamber.
At any rate, there were more pressing matters.
“Now that all are present,”
Marquis Castane, seated as chairman, lifted the gavel.
“Let the session begin.”
Bang—the gavel struck.
The council of elders had reconvened.
The agenda at the reconvened council was identical to that of ten days prior.
Seraphie’s motion to take over and reestablish the Iris order was carried once more by unanimous vote.
“Then, next…”
After a brief sigh, Marquis Castane continued.
“…Next was the matter of the Baglosa family’s disposition.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, crossing himself.
It was less a gesture of sympathy for the dead than one of self-comfort and encouragement as he spoke of it.
“Due to recent unfortunate events, I must state that this item has been struck from the agenda, by direct order of His Imperial Majesty…”
Count Baglosa was dead, his would-be heir imprisoned for patricide.
The only other child, Lady Baglosa, had disappeared in the aftermath, only to be found as a burnt corpse five days prior.
As Marquis Castane recounted the situation, Seraphie couldn’t hide her disapproval.
When mention was made of Lady Baglosa’s death by fire, she bit her lower lip, eyes shutting tight.
The nobles on her side did little to mask their dissatisfaction.
Duke Felicia alone retained composure, though even he did not look pleased.
“And now—”
A man raised a hand—a gaunt, sharp-jawed figure, middle-aged.
“Count Tipeon.”
Marquis Castane granted the floor.
“What is it?”
“What becomes of the Baglosa family’s estate? Does His Majesty decide directly?”
“I was just about to explain.”
Without a direct heir and with all collateral lines refusing the title, so Marquis Castane explained, His Majesty would soon revoke the countship entirely.
Further, all property—including the Baglosa mansion, valuables, assets—would be seized, appraised, and auctioned off.
Proceeds from the auction would go to cover fines Count Baglosa had failed to pay in life.
“Then…”
With this, Marquis Castane struck the gavel.
“On to the next agenda item.”
Bang! The sound marked the subject closed.
Thus ended the long lineage of the House of Baglosa.
“Recently nightly road accidents have been on the rise, so His Majesty commands us to propose preventative measures—”
The remainder of the meeting proceeded quietly and smoothly.
The usual boisterous, contentious atmosphere was absent, but even so, Seraphie found herself with a pounding headache.
“In districts with high numbers of nighttime carriage accidents, restrict travel during those hours—”
The crown prince’s safety proposal was as primitive as it was direct: to prevent carriage accidents, simply remove carriages.
‘Madness. Typical of a prince who gets rid of whatever displeases him.’
Crude though it sounded, the idea held merit.
Random spot checks and fines for anyone with excessively bright headlamps were not unreasonable.
“Um…”
At that, Ex raised a tentative hand.
Marquis Castane nodded for him to speak.
Ex drew a breath before voicing his concern.
“I don’t oppose the intent, but might restricting nighttime carriage traffic cause problems—for example, with the transport of goods?”
He spoke with caution.
“Estir.”
The crown prince clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“The crux of the matter is people’s safety. If a little inconvenience saves lives, what’s more important—goods or human life?”
“Ah…”
Ex was left speechless.
It wasn’t wrong—in fact, it was the only logical answer. Human life was, of course, more important than shipping.
‘But for you to say it?’
Seraphie, dumbfounded, barely restrained herself from swearing or kicking at the table.
Somewhere behind, she thought she heard Luni mutter, “Did I just hear what I think I heard?” but let it pass out the other ear.