The One Who Won't Be Abandoned - Chapter 66

After the crown prince’s intrusion into the assembly hall, the councilors formally invoked palace law and posted royal guards outside to bar his entry. When the crown prince returned for the next regular session, he was publicly denied entry—right in front of several councilors—an embarrassment he couldn’t ignore.

Of course, he erupted in anger on the spot. But no matter how much of a scene he made, he had no right to attend the assembly without an official coronation.

No member of the royal family other than the emperor could participate in the assembly. That was a rule set by Emperor Vabeisil himself, who refused to share power with other royals while he was alive. That law applied even to his own son.

Unable to enter the assembly hall, the crown prince next demanded to assume the emperor’s duties in his stead. But, predictably, the council rejected this too.

Though the refusal stirred his anger, he had half-expected it and wasn’t deeply disappointed. That changed when his attendant, Rousseau, returned with new information—so shocking the prince could hardly believe it.

“So… you’re saying who is in the emperor’s office right now?”

Facing the prince’s enraged glare, Rousseau lowered his eyes even more and answered grimly.

“…Baron Tim Ferrier has been appointed by the council to act as regent and oversee His Majesty’s duties.”

Crash!

A decorative object the crown prince hurled smashed loudly against the wall. Rousseau, mid-report, shut his mouth immediately.

“They’re planning to make Tim Ferrier emperor instead of me! Me, the legitimate heir!”

“Your Highness, please calm yourself—your condition—”

“Shut up! You think I care about that now?!”

The crown prince no longer believed his illness was the true reason behind the council’s delay. From the start, they had planned to pass him over and install Tim Ferrier. It was a bitter, belated realization.

“Who gave them permission to open the emperor’s office?! That’s my seat!”

“Please calm down, Your Highness.”

Despite Rousseau’s attempts to soothe him, the prince flew into a rage, throwing anything he could reach. The red blotches that had subsided returned to his face in an angry flush. He scratched at his itching skin until blood beaded from beneath his fingernails.

“Damn it. They’re all in on it. They treat me like I’m tainted? Like I’m filth…?”

Gritting his teeth, the prince recalled the looks of disdain on the councilors’ faces. He could almost hear their mocking laughter. In his mind, he hacked them to pieces over and over while Rousseau silently dabbed the blood from his face with a white cloth.

The next emperor was meant to be Volvdy, him. Just as naturally as birds fly or fish swim. But now even that certainty was slipping. If things continued as they were, Tim Ferrier might really claim the throne.

The crown prince, shaken by the collapse of his absolute belief in succession, could no longer think clearly. To make matters worse, he had no strong allies, no one he could trust. He felt completely cornered.

As Rousseau stepped away, his task finished, the prince remained lost in thought—until, at last, he made a decision.

“Summon the Captain of the Royal Guard to the reception room.”

The prince had made up his mind: he would brand Tim a traitor and have him executed. He would align with the Captain and mobilize the knights.

The current Captain of the Royal Guard was Bastian, heir to the Duke of Bukovatz. He had risen to the post before even turning thirty, a testament to his exceptional skill.

Years ago, due to a mistake by the crown prince, relations between the royal family and the Duke of Bukovatz had become irreparably strained. Yet, the two families had once been inseparable—the Bukovatz family owed its prosperity to the former empress, the late emperor’s consort and the crown prince’s mother.

Perhaps because of this, or due to Bastian’s unwavering loyalty to the crown, the Captain remained outwardly neutral, even as his father opposed the prince.

As royal guard captain, Bastian appeared to have chosen the crown over his house. That was why the crown prince felt confident calling upon him now.

Rousseau, staring at the prince with a gaze deep and unreadable, spoke again:

“May I suggest summoning Assemblyman Andrei Kaiman as well? Many of the younger councilors are already aligning themselves with him. If he were to stand with Your Highness, it would greatly strengthen your hand against Tim Ferrier.”

“Fine. Bring them both.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Once the attendant had left, silence fell over the crown prince’s room.

Tap… tap, tap…!

The silence only made the crown prince’s already anxious mind more restless. He gnawed on his thumbnail, trying to calm the storm within him.

“Damn you, Tim Ferrier… You’re not even legitimate, and yet you dare covet the throne…?”

Someone who wasn’t even listed in the official royal genealogy had the audacity to plant himself in the emperor’s office. That alone was enough to be considered treason.

First, he would charge Tim with treason and have him arrested. Then, one by one, he would round up the councilors who supported him and mete out punishment. If the late emperor had wielded such power, there was no reason he couldn’t do the same.

He would purge the rot like dead branches, clear the way, and ascend to the throne. Yes—this was how it should have been from the beginning. If he eliminated the snakes first and claimed the throne afterward, then, like the emperors before him, he could wield his authority until death. He would establish unshakable power.

The crown prince took a deep breath and spat out the bitten nail.

“Dignity… I must maintain dignity…”

Soon, the Captain of the Royal Guard and Andrei Kaiman would arrive. He could not allow them to see him shaken. He had to present himself as wise and composed. With that resolve, the crown prince straightened his robes and stepped out of his room wearing a solemn, authoritative expression.

* * *

The crown prince’s reception room was spacious and antique in style. Sitting at the center on a red velvet sofa, he raised a now-cold teacup. His fingertips were flushed with agitation.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

It was Andrei Kaiman who entered the room. His quarters were evidently closer to the crown prince’s palace than the barracks where the knights resided.

“Your Highness. I heard you summoned me.”

Andrei bowed politely, and the crown prince regarded him with a satisfied smile.

‘The Kaimans make an enormous fortune through their mines and trading guild. Their grain yields are so vast that they even export abroad…’

If he could make use of Andrei’s wealth, he could crush Tim’s supporters and secure the throne with ease. Only now did the crown prince begin to understand the late emperor’s reasoning for tying Andrei to the illegitimate princess.

“Come, have a seat. Apologies for the sudden summons. I just received some rather ridiculous news.”

Gesturing graciously, the crown prince motioned for Andrei to sit across from him.

“What kind of news, if I may ask?”

“You saw him at the funeral, didn’t you? My uncle.”

Andrei reacted as if he were seeing Tim Ferrier for the first time at the funeral, despite how closely they were working in secret.

“Yes. I was surprised how young Baron Ferrier looked.”

“He is young. Not even forty yet. Though under imperial decree, he’s barred from marriage and from producing heirs.”

Andrei nodded calmly. It was common knowledge that Tim was forbidden from having heirs. Though that was only true under the emperor’s watch—Tim already had a healthy son with Princess Grecia.

“It seems he now believes he’s entitled to the throne. I don’t know how he swayed the council, but he’s apparently planted himself right in the emperor’s office.”

“I recall a similar matter being raised during a previous session.”

“So you just sat and watched while that was discussed…? Ahem. No, forgive me. I lost my composure.”

The crown prince had nearly snapped, accusing Andrei of standing idle, but he quickly reined in his emotions. Thanks to this moment of restraint, they were able to continue the conversation calmly.

“As you know, in the Dysnya Sendfinden royal family, only those with violet eyes are recognized as royalty. That’s why Princess Grecia is called ‘princess’—and why her child, despite being illegitimate, is still treated as royalty.”

“Yes.”

Royalty? Hah, thought Andrei. From what he’d seen, neither Grecia nor her son were treated with the dignity of royalty while the emperor lived. He scorned the princess until his final breath and, when she became pregnant, he confined her to her palace, allowing only maids to deliver her meals.

“When I was near my due date,” the princess had once said at a party, drunk on too much wine, “our proud father never even sent a midwife. I delivered alone. I must’ve read more than ten books on childbirth. You think he sent a wet nurse afterward? My baby drank only my milk. I didn’t have enough, so he went hungry often…”

She had cried that night. It was the only time Andrei had ever felt a flicker of sympathy for her.

It was true she was blinded by her love for Tim, but that wasn’t the only reason she stood behind him in what the empire saw as treason. Her hatred for the emperor was real. Deep resentment layered with grief—that was the fuel behind her rebellion.

Now the crown prince leaned forward with a determined look.

“I’ll be direct. Support me. And I want the nobles loyal to you to support me as well. If you do that, I’ll make you Minister of Foreign Affairs the moment I’m crowned emperor.”

“Hmm.”

Andrei leaned back into the sofa, letting out an uncomfortable groan.

“Minister of Foreign Affairs?”

When he furrowed his brow in apparent disinterest, the crown prince was visibly caught off guard. Still, he masked it and rushed to justify the offer.

“Your house became prosperous because of your success in foreign trade, did it not? If you take the position, your family’s commercial power will grow even greater.”

“I don’t know… That position doesn’t appeal to me much.”

“What?”

Compared to a regular assemblyman, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was a huge promotion. It was a position of prestige that, when traveling abroad, allowed one to act as a direct representative of the emperor. That Andrei didn’t seem tempted by such a position caused the crown prince’s anger to swell, though he tried to keep it under control.

“It seems you don’t fully grasp the weight of that office. Do you know how much wealth Count Nawell—who currently holds that position—has amassed? I hear he even bought himself an entire island last year.”

Tap… tap…

The crown prince’s attempt to speak of wealth before the heir of House Kaiman was so laughable that Andrei couldn’t hold back.

“Haha!”

There was no way the Kaiman heir would be tempted by something so petty. That the man who wished to be emperor knew so little about the empire’s noble houses—it was pitiful. This was clearly the result of the late emperor neglecting to give the crown prince any proper education or training for succession.

The emperor, having consolidated power to a dangerous degree, had always feared that his own son might amass enough influence to challenge him. Absolute power was too sweet, too addicting. He hadn’t wanted to share it—not even with his heir.

So he’d left the crown prince to rot, encouraging pleasure-seeking and ignoring his studies, making him a fool. And now, thanks to that cold-hearted father, the prince had been blindsided—by his own half-sister and uncle.

“You… you’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”

The crown prince growled, his face twisted with indignation. But even that expression, to Andrei, was almost cute—pitiful. All the prince had inherited from his father was his appetite for women. If only he had inherited some of his cruelty or cunning, he might not be crumbling so easily now.

“Your Highness, do you know how much wealth the Kaiman estate generates each year?”

“Are you looking down on me just because your house has money?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

Andrei looked at him boldly, an arrogant smirk on his face.

“I mean, I don’t know how much because the sum is astronomical. Do you know what happened to the compensation funds the late emperor granted us after he burned down our Kaiman estate in the capital?”

“Andrei Kaiman. Are you mocking me right now?”

‘Mockery? Isn’t mockery the very legacy of you and your father?’

Andrei had finally lost patience. In front of someone so pitiful, he dropped the act. With the emperor dead, and himself still stuck in the palace at the princess’s insistence, his long-suppressed frustration exploded.

“It’s rotting in a vault underground. Such small change. We didn’t even bother using it as fertilizer.”

“You just confessed to squandering the emperor’s mercy! Insolent cur!”

“Insolent? Did you just say insolent?”

Looking at the prince’s twisted face, Andrei saw the dead emperor. He’d heard the rumors—that the old man had died ejaculating into nothing but a pillow pressed down by his own daughter.

Despite the prince’s raised voice, Andrei didn’t so much as flinch. That only made the prince feel more threatened. Like a frightened animal puffing up to look bigger, he leapt from his seat and jabbed a finger at Andrei, trying to mask his fear with fury.

“You’re just like your coward of a father, hiding in D’Hel to cling to life! Now I see why Father mocked the Kaimans so much!”