Altina the Sword Princess: Volume 12, page 4
Latrielle approached the stage and slowly began making his way up its stairs—a mere eight steps. How much blood have I spilled to climb them? he wondered. Once he reached the fourth step, he could see who stood at the podium.
“Father...”
Before him was the shriveled face of the late emperor, a sword thrust through his heart. It was, of course, all an illusion. The man was already six feet underground, as was the sixth consort who stood beside him.
“Begone, witch...”
She was a demon who drained the lifeblood of the Empire; I feel not even a pang of guilt for what happened to her...
Or so Latrielle told himself. He climbed another step, this time trampling an enemy general he had defeated in battle. Then he trod on his own soldiers who had died under his command. By the time he reached the seventh step, he could feel his legs giving way.
“Auguste... My brother...”
Latrielle saw the young man his mother had poisoned. He saw his peaceful smile and the black blood that spilled from his purple lips. The cheers of the crowd warped until they sounded almost like the dire, vengeful wails of those forever damned to hell. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow before trickling down his cheeks. It was as though he were sinking into quicksand; his legs would carry him no farther.
Before Latrielle knew it, his composure had started to crumble. He no longer had the strength to stop his tears, which now streamed freely down his cheeks.
“Sire!” came a voice from behind him. “Eternal glory to the Empire!”
It was Germain. In an instant, the corpses—the hallucinations—were gone. Now before Latrielle were the stage, the lines of nobles, and the cheering civilians. He raised one hand in response.
“Naturally!”
Latrielle took the stage, and the cheers grew louder still. His gaze fell on the lined-up nobles; they were all dressed up like peacocks, their smiles practically dripping with greed. Among them, only Argentina and those around her looked at him with sharp, disapproving eyes.
Glare at me all you want. It’s too late.
The empress consort was still absent. Latrielle was not sad about this; rather, he found it somewhat uncanny.
Marquis Bergerac, the minister of ceremonies, stepped out and proclaimed the start of the ceremony to thunderous applause. He was so pale that he looked as though he might collapse at any second. Perhaps he was mindful of the fact that his grandson, Bastian, had taken Argentina’s side.
The ceremony proceeded without delay—the head of the church chanted a blessing and bestowed the crown upon the man who had moments ago been the second prince. Only in that moment did it truly feel real. Latrielle looked up at the lead-colored sky, at the rain that continued to pour down from above.
Even if the heavens disapprove, I am now the emperor. I shall be the serpent that swallows nations whole!
“The Belgarian Empire is the only superpower that belongs in these lands!” Latrielle declared. “With no enemies left to fight, I promise you eternal peace and prosperity. Follow me! And then, I shall give you victory!” He raised a fist to the sky, and cheers reverberated through the plaza like thunder.
“Vive l’empereur! Long live the emperor!” the people cried. As their celebrations continued, the band sprang to life once more, erupting into the Belgarian national anthem.
On August 13th, during the 851st year of the Belgarian imperial calendar, Alain Deux Latrielle de Belgaria became the new emperor of the Belgarian Empire.
Chapter 2: The Banquet
After the ceremony came the banquet. The massive hall of the imperial palace had been decorated to be as resplendent as possible, and its tables were laden with food. Crimson cloth embroidered with gold adorned the walls, and a marble statue caught the eye, carrying a vase from the east containing massive, blooming flowers the likes of which nobody had ever seen before. A vast number of paintings and carvings were likewise met with longing stares from the visitors; most were masterpieces over a hundred years old, from the golden age of Belgarian fine art. All this was accompanied by the vibrant tune of an orchestra and the countless nobles who had taken the opportunity to turn themselves into walking exhibitions of valuable gemstones.
“This is incredible...” Regis breathed as he followed Altina into the hall.
“Yeah. It’s just as lavish as it was during our nation’s anniversary.”
“Are you sure you should be dressed like that?”
Altina had opted to put on a military uniform, although she wasn’t in her usual light armor. Instead, she wore a ceremonial alternative that sported some decoration, along with a small, single-edged sword at her waist. “Right now, I consider myself a lieutenant general in the imperial army rather than a princess,” she explained.
Latrielle’s coronation meant that Altina no longer had any right to the imperial throne, as per a Belgarian custom that was waived only under extreme circumstances. She had initially found this knowledge hard to bear, but it seemed that she had since turned over a new leaf. Although her path to becoming empress was no more, that did not mean she had to cast aside her ideals. Rather than viewing herself as a princess without inheritance rights, she had come to place more value in her position as a lieutenant general.
Even if she’d been born a commoner, I’m sure she would have put her all into achieving her goal, Regis thought to himself. Even so, there was no mistaking that things were now more difficult. As far as he was concerned, this situation had resulted from his own cowardice and indolence. I won’t hesitate any more.
Failing to act decisively at this juncture would cost Altina her dream. To Regis, that thought was even more painful than ceasing to breathe.
Altina’s gaze suddenly caught on one of the items on display. Barely a moment passed before she started scampering over to it, calling out, “Over here, Regis!”
“I would never have expected you to be so interested in a piece of art,” Regis mused aloud. “Ah. I see.”
She was racing toward a longsword of crimson and gold, the blade of which was unsheathed for all to see. It glimmered such a radiant hue that Regis had to wonder whether it really was forged from pure gold, but that couldn’t have been the case; while malleable, gold was much too soft for a practical weapon.
“One of the seven swords forged from the trystie bestowed upon Belgaria’s first emperor by the fae...” Regis muttered. “Since the blade is gold, this must be the Rage Volcanique Sis (The Emperor’s Volcanic Rage VI).”
“This is my first time seeing it,” Altina remarked.
“As I recall, it hasn’t left the treasury in quite some time.”
“It looks weak.”
“No, no... It definitely does look a little decorative compared to the other swords, but there are records of it being used in war.”
“So, what special traits does it have?”
“You’re supposed to use it with a shield, apparently. To realize its potential, it requires the wielder to use sword techniques that have fallen out of fashion in modern Belgaria.”
“Hmm...” Altina folded her arms and then let out a small, frustrated growl. “It’s irritating how that actually got me a little excited.”
Regis chuckled. “That’s harmless enough, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. Not at all. That blasted Latrielle... Did his tastes change the moment he became emperor? I thought he hated garish parties and pointless spending.”
Regis looked around the hall. “I can’t deny that it looks as extravagant as the parties from Emperor Vicente’s era.”
The fact that so many paintings remained from those bygone days certainly aided the comparison. Emperor Vicente had adored the arts and invested heavily into the industry of culture...although his wasteful spending did end up devastating the nation.
“He’s always been out fighting some war or another, but...” Altina furrowed her brow. “Latrielle always has had an artistic side. His cousin was a painter; he got along pretty well with her.”
“Huh? H-His cousin?”
“His uncle’s daughter. On his mother’s side.”
“So she’s not royalty then. But she has to be from some notable house. Do you know her name?”
“Her name? Um... Bee... Bea, maybe? Yeah. Well, anyways, I heard that she often spoke with Latrielle about art.”
“Is that so? I would have thought that a painter so closely related to royalty would have become famous even with a dubious level of skill, but this is my first time hearing about her.”
“That’s because she, uh... She died a while back.”
“Oh, I see...”
An increase in the birth rate both within the royal family and in society as a whole had greatly increased the size of the youngest generation, which in turn meant there were far too many names to record and remember. As rare as female painters were, if this woman had passed away before she could produce any notable works, it was understandable that she never made it into any meaningful books. Her relation to royalty might have resulted in her name being noted, if nothing else, but such a fleeting mention wouldn’t have been enough to seize Regis’s attention.
Regis turned his attention to one of the paintings. “Do you think that has anything to do with this? I mean, with this art-filled banquet?”
“I’m not so sure. Maybe he’s just especially happy about finally becoming emperor.”
“He didn’t look too elated during the ceremony. He wore the same expression as when he would encourage his men before a great battle.”
Latrielle’s first address as emperor had been akin to a declaration of war against all the surrounding nations. For this very reason, it was unsettling that his banquet seemed so...expensive. Did he have a separate objective somewhere?
“Pardon me.” As they were caught up in their conversation, a somewhat elderly gentleman came over and gave a deep bow. Regis took him to be a noble who had come to greet Altina, but this was not the case. “I work in the capital as an art dealer of sorts.”
“An art dealer?” Regis asked.
“An art dealer, indeed. If you so wish, I can tell you the story behind this painting.”
“So Latrielle even prepared an interpretation service...” Altina murmured.
“It may be rare at parties like this one,” Regis replied, “but it is quite common at art exhibitions.”
“Oh, really?” Altina asked, her head tilted quizzically.
Regis shrugged in response. “I’ve never been to an art exhibition myself, so I really can’t say.”
“Is that so?” the art dealer asked. “I suppose a young soldier might not be too interested in the world of art. Emperor Vicente commissioned this masterpiece himself, and it has been preserved in the palace treasury for a great many years. The master painter Filippo spent three years completing it, and...”
Regis refrained from weighing in, having come to the conclusion that this story was meant for Altina. It was true that he had never before stepped foot in an art exhibition, but this certainly wasn’t due to any disinterest on his part. Until not too long ago, he had been a commoner on a meager salary—a lowly tactician who lacked both the qualifications to enter such events and the money required to pay the admission fee. There were numerous paintings that had come up in his stories and plenty of works he hoped to see at least once before he died.
By the time the art dealer’s explanation was over, Altina was looking rather impressed. “I would never have guessed this painting was so important,” she said. “I thought it was about as trivial as the ones hung around the palace.”
Actually, I assume those paintings are of the same caliber as this one... Regis retorted to himself. La Branne was widely praised for its likeness to a grand art museum; Altina’s inattention presumably stemmed from her having grown so accustomed to the greatest art in the world.
“Just between us,” the art dealer added in a hushed voice, “there’s a rumor going around that Emperor Latrielle is going to put the pieces unveiled here up for sale.”
“Oh, really?” Altina replied, wholly uninterested. Regis, in contrast, considered this news far more important.
“I see... So that’s it. This banquet is being held to fill the nation’s war chest,” Regis said. That explained the gaudy displays; a reserved party would do little to loosen the wallets of the nobility. He smiled at the painting and then nodded.
“They’re all masterpieces, if not national treasures, so anyone who obtains one will become the talk of high society,” the art dealer explained. “That prestige will remain with them even if they one day have to part with the paintings, and it will no doubt raise their opinion of the emperor.”
“The thought of something raising Latrielle’s reputation doesn’t make me happy in the least,” Altina remarked.
“I-Is that so?” the art dealer stammered before forcing out an awkward chuckle. The princess’s words would have been taken as blasphemous were she not royalty herself.
Naturally, the art dealer understood the statuses of all those attending the banquet. The average noble would not be able to purchase a world-class masterpiece, so he needed to be selective when spreading the rumor. Thus, he had approached Altina knowing that she was a princess.
That said, it seemed the man had not been thorough enough in his research to account for Altina’s personality. The princess was by no means sympathetic enough to put on a modest act, especially so soon after losing a power struggle.
“Regis. His reputation aside, does Latrielle gain anything else from selling a few paintings?” Altina asked.
“Let me see...” Regis whispered a figure into the art dealer’s ear. “Is that about right?”
“My apologies, but this painting is valued at around double that amount. Were the decision up to me, however...I would be willing to negotiate something closer to your asking price.”
The conversation thus far should have made it clear that Regis and Altina had no intention of making any purchases, but this was a man with a commendably persistent commercial spirit. In any case, Regis’s estimate had not been completely off base.
Not wanting to give the art dealer any false hopes, Regis gave a polite bow and then returned to his conversation with Altina. “Wow, what an amazing amount!” he proclaimed. “If even half of the pieces here manage to sell, we could recuperate all of our losses from our war against High Britannia and then some.”
“Gwah?! That much?!”
“The paintings collected here are national treasures. They’re worth enough to put a dent in the national treasury.”
Of course, Regis’s estimation was based on the cost of employment and training fees; imperial soldiers couldn’t be bought or sold, nor could they be brought back from the dead. Furthermore, with how expensive the art pieces were, it was hard to imagine they would sell quickly...
Altina sighed. “My sword is great and all, but I really should have taken a few paintings with me too, way back when.”
“Aha ha... I can’t imagine any high nobles would have bought anything from you. As the art dealer said, the whole appeal is that they’re making a purchase from the new emperor.”
“Meaning they’re emptying their pockets to curry favor with him?”
“Such flattery is essential to being a noble.”
“Just make a donation then. I feel sorry for the poor paintings.”
Regis offered a wry smile; at no point had he thought to consider the paintings themselves. “If the new emperor started taking money without offering compensation, it might be perceived as a levy.”
“So? Nobles levy taxes on the commoners all the time.”
“Perhaps, but having the contribution be mandatory would cause any affected nobles to lose face. The situation might not end up bad enough to spark a civil war, but the imperial army might as well be considered a collection of noble armies. For Emperor Latrielle to walk the path of war, he needs to keep the support of the nobility.”
As emperor, Latrielle held absolute authority, but a majority of the Empire’s soldiers and civilians were under the rule of nobles. And although these nobles pandered to the emperor, the emperor could not show them any disrespect. It was an entanglement that had continued for centuries.
✧ ✧ ✧
Latrielle took the stage to fanfare, much like he had during the ceremony, while nobles formed a line to pay him their respects. It was almost identical to how things had gone with the previous emperor during the national day celebration.
“As I announced during the ceremony, I am looking to expand the Empire’s territory,” the new emperor said from his platform. “We shall take in all nations in our vicinity and form a power so great that no enemies will oppose us.”
As the nobles applauded this declaration, Altina sighed. She and Regis were watching from a corner of the hall. “Do they even understand what Latrielle’s saying?” she asked, beside herself. “He just told them we’re about to enter an era of war. Are they ready for that?”
“They don’t have much choice,” Regis replied. “Voicing their opposition to the emperor’s policies here will only result in them being isolated, even among other nobles.”
“But we came so close to losing against High Britannia alone!”
A few nobles overheard this heated remark and glanced over. It was clear from their expressions that they were wondering what house such an idiotic outburst had come from, but upon finding their answer, they frantically looked away. Everyone knew that the Fourth Army’s contributions had been responsible for the Empire’s victory in its most recent war.
Regis gestured for Altina to lower her voice. “Still, we won in the end. That’s what matters to them.”
“Because of you, right?”
“I...wouldn’t go that far. You’re overestimating me. Belgaria is strong—it would have come out on top even without my involvement,” Regis said. His self-esteem was lower than ever, and as far as his involvement in the war went, he was concerned only that he hadn’t been able to reduce the casualties even more.
