A few days later, during the day, inside the palace study.
His Majesty, the master of the study, sat at his usual desk. Across from him stood Albert, the Crown Prince, and myself.
All three of us wore deadpan, serious expressions.
Amidst the unusually oppressive atmosphere, I stepped forward, cleared my throat to break the silence, and began my report.
"The search of Brother's—no, Gilbert's mansion is complete. In a hidden underground chamber, we uncovered documents detailing the lethal effects of combining Poinix liquor and Dragon's Claw."
"Conclusive proof that he intended to assassinate His Majesty. Finding it stashed in a hidden room is all the evidence we need. Despicable scoundrel, lower than a dog."
Albert spat out the words with utter loathing.
His Majesty, on the other hand, looked as though this entire ordeal had aged him ten years. Wearing a crestfallen expression, he let out a weary sigh.
"And Gilbert?"
"Gilbert remains in custody. To prevent suicide, we have bound his movements with magic and tripled the guard rotation."
What I reported was an extraordinary level of security, far beyond standard procedure.
This was an unprecedented capital offense—attempted regicide. Nothing could be permitted to happen to him before His Majesty handed down his judgment.
If Gilbert were to kill himself in his cell out of dread for his crimes, every single guard would lose their head without question.
I had placed him under the tightest security imaginable, establishing an ironclad perimeter as though shielding Gilbert from the rest of the world.
"I see... And what of his sentence?"
His Majesty spoke with a heavy voice, turning his gaze toward me.
He was asking for my assessment as the Imperial Prince Minister of Justice.
"Given the irrefutable evidence and the undeniable treason of attempting His Majesty's murder, Imperial Law permits no sentence other than execution by waist chop."
"Umu..."
His Majesty's face twisted into a grimace, looking as if he had just chewed on a bitter insect.
Seeing that, I paused for a breath before continuing.
"However, in this case, it can also be interpreted as an attempted crime."
His Majesty's brow twitched.
"What would that entail?"
"Naturally, as it remains an act of treason, the sentence of execution by waist chop cannot be pardoned. However, a stay of execution reduced by one degree may be granted. Furthermore, in cases of high treason, the timing of the execution may be carried out whenever His Majesty so commands."
"I see..."
"Why bother with such a convoluted measure?"
Albert tilted his head in bewilderment after hearing my proposal.
"No, just as expected of Noah. You have taken both the law and human sentiment into account."
"..."
I offered a silent bow.
Given the gravity of the matter, it felt inappropriate to respond with an outright affirmation.
"You have considered this well, Noah."
"...?"
Albert, on the other hand, still seemed unable to grasp it.
Even if he had plotted murder, Gilbert was still His Majesty's son.
I had anticipated the possibility that the Emperor might find it unbearable to execute his own flesh and blood, even after being targeted for death.
That was why I proposed a solution permissible within the boundaries of the law: a stay of execution whose timing rested entirely on the Emperor's discretion—effectively granting him the power to turn it into a life sentence if he so chose.
His Majesty understood my intent and commended it.
However.
"Your Majesty, there is no cause for hesitation. Whoever they may be, those who dared contemplate poisoning Your Majesty must face the ultimate punishment."
Albert pressed for an immediate execution.
His stance was justifiable in its own right, but...
For a fleeting second, I caught His Majesty frowning in subtle displeasure.
It lasted only an instant. His Majesty's expression promptly smoothed back into a neutral mask, and he spent several dozen seconds in contemplation.
"...Albert."
"Yes, Sire."
"I entrust the execution to you. Go."
"By your command."
Albert dropped to one knee, then took his leave from the study.
Inwardly, I let out a quiet sigh.
"Noah."
"Yes, Sire."
"You did well. It is truly remarkable that you possess such tact and consideration."
"..."
"That thoughtfulness alone brings me great comfort."
"..."
I kept my head slightly bowed, remaining silent as I listened.
The atmosphere, heavy from the start, had grown even more stifling. Perhaps eager to dispel the gloom, His Majesty cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"The late Gilbert's fief shall be confiscated. I had originally intended to bestow it directly upon you, but—"
"You must not, Sire."
I raised my head sharply, cutting off His Majesty's words.
"Oh?"
"This entire affair was set in motion by my confidential report. Regardless of how deserved Gilbert's downfall may be, if I were to claim his fief as a result, it could spark future discord—or worse, petty sabotage and infighting—among the imperial princes."
After hearing my words, His Majesty offered a genuine smile for the first time today.
"Do not be so hasty. I did say 'originally intended.'"
"Ah..."
"And well spoken. Excellent as always. Indeed, that risk exists. Open rivalry is acceptable, but underhanded sabotage cannot be tolerated. Therefore, Noah, I shall grant you no reward for this incident."
"I am profoundly grateful for Your Majesty's wisdom."
I dropped to one knee on the spot and bowed in gratitude.
"Instead, I shall tend to what is only natural. Noah, the time draws near for you to take command of a fief as well. It is high time we consider arranging a legal wife for you."
"Yes, Sire."
Looking up, I nodded.
I was currently twelve years old, but marrying at such an age was by no means premature for royalty.
An imperial prince's first marriage—the union with his legal wife—was strictly a political affair, requiring a match of equal pedigree at the very least.
Taking all that into account, twelve was practically on the later side.
"What say you to the granddaughter of my uncle, the Thunder Imperial Prince?"
"I have no objections, Sire."
I gave the standard, expected response.
"Very well. Truth be told, I had a compatibility divination performed beforehand. The reading showed that you and the young lady have over a fifty percent chance of producing quite an intelligent child. Furthermore, there is roughly a one percent chance the child will be born with talent surpassing even your own."
Divination grew cloudier and far more prone to error the further into the future it reached.
While twelve was not too young to marry, that hardly meant we would have children right away.
Realistically, having a child of my own would take at least another five years.
No divination could see five years ahead with pinpoint accuracy; it was almost certainly bound to miss the mark.
Even so.
"To be granted such an esteemed partner is the highest honor I could hope for."
"Good. Then I shall move forward with the marriage arrangements."
"I am profoundly grateful, Sire."
Offering a final bow, I waited to confirm His Majesty had nothing further before quietly stepping out of the study.
Shortly after Noah departed, the First Prime Minister entered the study.
"My word, just as one would expect of Lord Noah. He did not ask what kind of young lady she was, let alone inquire about her name."
"That is the duty of imperial royalty, of an imperial prince."
"Even so, very few can truly maintain such discipline. It is only natural for a young man to harbor at least some curiosity regarding the woman who will become his wife. For Lord Noah to carry himself with such composure at his tender age, one can only marvel."
The First Prime Minister spoke with genuine admiration, and the Emperor nodded in quiet satisfaction.
Had Noah asked about his prospective bride in that situation, it would have bordered on lèse-majesté.
It was common practice for a lord to arrange matches for his retainers, and the principle held on an even grander scale between an emperor and an imperial prince.
Furthermore, any bestowal granted by the Emperor had to be accepted unconditionally.
Inquiring about a woman's name or character carried the unspoken implication that one might refuse depending on who she was.
Such an attitude was unthinkable in high nobility—especially between an emperor and an imperial prince.
"And yet, even the astute Lord Noah failed to notice this, did he?"
The First Prime Minister let the deep lines on his face crease further as he chuckled in amusement.
"When I first heard that scheme of yours, I must admit I was taken aback..."
"Surely it is not a bad proposal, Your Majesty?"
Having served the throne for many decades, the First Prime Minister spoke to the Emperor with a candid familiarity—at least, compared to everyone else.
The Emperor did not seem to mind in the slightest.
"Indeed. It was a blind spot, but unquestionably a sound strategy. A grandchild, was it?"
"'Select your successor through their grandchild. A worthy grandchild guarantees prosperity across three generations.'"
The First Prime Minister reiterated the very words he had presented to the Emperor some time ago.
"How stand the odds in truth? Are there any grandchildren capable of surpassing me?"
"At present, Lord Noah offers the sole possibility. That is, assuming Lord Noah's brilliance is successfully passed on to his offspring."
"I see... Then we can only place our hopes upon it."
With solemn gazes, the Emperor and the First Prime Minister remained fixed on the door through which Noah had departed.