Early afternoon, at Oscar's estate.
While Oscar was admiring the flower beds in his garden, a servant jogged over and whispered into his ear.
"Now that is rare. Show him in at once."
"Right away, my lord!"
Oscar was slightly surprised.
As soon as Oscar gave the order, the servant dashed off, retracing the path he had come.
A few minutes later, he returned, this time accompanied by Henry.
Wearing a genial smile, Oscar spread his arms wide and walked toward Henry.
"What a pleasant surprise. Brother, just how many years has it been since you last visited my home?"
"Has it really been that long?"
"Indeed, it has! The last time you visited was back when—"
Oscar shifted half a step to the side, gesturing toward the flower beds behind him.
"—these flower beds didn't even exist yet."
"I see. Well, I happened to get my hands on some fine liquor, and I thought I would share some with you."
Henry raised his right hand as he spoke.
In his grip was an aged jar secured with hemp rope.
Both the jar itself and the seal at its opening bore the marks of age, making it clear at a glance that it was a prized, well-aged vintage.
"How wonderful! In that case, let us have a table prepared right away."
Oscar beckoned the servant who had guided Henry over and whispered instructions into his ear.
With every word Oscar spoke, the servant nodded, counting on his fingers out of sight to memorize each order thoroughly.
"Make it quick, understood?"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Now, off with you."
"Ah, take this with you as well. If you break it, I'll kick your backside."
Henry thrust the jar of liquor toward the departing servant along with a dry joke.
The servant took it in a fluster, carrying the jar away with the utmost care so as not to break it.
After seeing him off, Henry and Oscar—the two brothers—faced each other once more.
"Now then, Brother, shall we take a stroll while the preparations are being made?"
"Very well. Come to think of it, I heard a rumor that your garden boasts a magnificent pair of 'coupled trees.' I would very much like to see them."
"Hahaha, you do have a sense of humor, Brother. The coupled trees in my garden are merely there to make up the numbers."
Even as he said this, Oscar turned his palm upward in a welcoming gesture, taking the lead to guide Henry along the path.
Coupled trees were a popular art form in landscape gardening.
Two trees planted side by side were gently bent bit by bit each day from saplings, trained to intertwine in a spiral as they grew.
Because they grew entwined together, they had been called various names across different eras, but over the past few decades, the name "coupled trees" had become the prevailing standard.
Since cultivating them required immense time and effort, having them created and maintained had become a fashionable trend among aristocrats to flaunt their wealth and leisure.
"Oho!"
After walking for a short while, the two arrived before a pair of coupled trees.
"These truly are magnificent."
Henry voiced his praise aloud.
"You flatter me, Brother."
"No, no, the craftsmanship of the coupled trees itself is certainly fine, but the journey leading up to them is what is truly marvelous."
"The journey?"
"Yes, through the garden. Along the path, the trees offered fleeting, partial glimpses that piqued curiosity without revealing the whole, culminating in this grand view. Oscar, this presentation must have been your design."
"Ahaha, you have me beat. When you see through it so thoroughly, there's no joy in showing off."
Oscar offered a wry smile, though he did not seem entirely displeased.
Side by side, the two brothers came to a stop before the coupled trees.
"You really are clever, after all."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Even with these coupled trees, you see. If it were me, I would have planted them proudly in an easily visible spot in the garden. Yet you chose not to do that, keeping them tucked away deep inside instead."
"I see it somewhat differently. In fact, I have always envied your boldness, Brother. As for these coupled trees, I lacked the confidence to display them—fearing something might be flawed about them—which is why I kept them hidden away like this."
"Even so, that guarantees you make no mistakes. If you hold onto your trump card and play it only when victory is assured, you cannot lose. If you never play it at all, you still won't lose."
"One might not lose, but one certainly won't win either. I often reflect on how, unless one takes the initiative to challenge something, results will never follow in the first place."
Henry and Oscar.
With their eyes fixed on the coupled trees, the two brothers traded these superficial, probing remarks.
In terms of swordsmanship, it was a clash of feints.
Both traded subtle probes, one waiting for the right moment to strike while the other lay in wait to parry.
Both understood the situation with complete clarity.
Henry was certain his purpose and true intentions had been largely conveyed, while Oscar understood that Henry had not come simply to engage in harmless small talk about landscaping.
"..."
"..."
The conversation lapsed, and silence hung between the two men.
A breeze swept between them, stirring a small whirlwind near the coupled trees.
"The reason I came today..."
Before long, Henry was the first to speak.
Here, the stark difference in their temperaments laid itself bare.
Oscar possessed a patient nature, whereas Henry was impatient.
"Yes?"
"I want to hear your candid opinion."
"My opinion?"
"The late Emperor led personal campaigns on many occasions. During the latter campaigns, he took every imperial prince—save for Albert—along with him, down to you."
"Indeed. Albert was the Crown Prince at the time, so he never accompanied the army to the end, leaving me as the last imperial prince to join him."
"Both of us have accompanied a personal campaign at least once. Based on that experience, I want to ask: What do you make of this upcoming personal campaign?"
"An effortless victory."
With scarcely a change in his expression, Oscar answered without hesitation.
"The barbarians on the frontier have been rampant, but that is the extent of it. It will merely be another routine suppression campaign. Above all..."
"Above all?"
"...His Majesty is truly an extraordinary man."
With a hint of hesitation, Oscar continued.
"It is his first personal campaign, and he is a man who inherited the mantle of a great father. Normally, anyone would feel the pressure to show off their prowess to some degree, yet he entrusted total command of the army to you, Brother. Such a decision is unthinkable under ordinary circumstances."
"His Majesty has been utterly rational ever since he was a child, after all."
"They say a person's true nature shows itself in times of crisis. His Majesty is truly astonishing."
Oscar's expression stiffened ever so faintly as he spoke, but he quickly composed himself.
"So, while it is called a personal campaign, it is essentially a suppression campaign under your command, Brother. It is a battle where victory is a foregone conclusion. Though, of course, that does not mean you won't have the chance to show your own prowess, Brother."
Oscar shrugged playfully, but Henry did not take the bait.
"I see... Victory is a foregone conclusion, is it?"
Henry muttered as if talking to himself.
Though standing close enough for their shoulders to brush, the two men continued their conversation without revealing their true motives.
Oscar still harbored lingering ambitions for the imperial throne.
Henry had sworn his loyalty to Noah.
Noah's personal campaign could present the greatest possible opening.
Henry had come to probe for that.
Oscar was well aware he was being probed.
Knowing all this, they carried on their dance, maintaining a delicate, noncommittal distance.
"...Oscar, how do you view His Majesty?"
"...What is the intention behind that question, Brother?"
Oscar grew wary.
His face stiffened slightly as he asked in return.
To Oscar, it felt as though Henry had taken a step further into territory he was already guarding against.
Yet Henry merely smiled as though it were nothing at all.
"Weren't you the one who said a person's true nature shows itself in times of crisis?"
"...Hmph."
"His Majesty's true nature—how do you see it?"
"..."
Oscar fell silent.
It was slightly different from moments before.
This was not out of vigilance, but rather a silence to choose the right words for a proper answer.
Henry did not interrupt Oscar's quiet contemplation; he simply waited.
After waiting for a short while, Oscar finally spoke, still choosing his words with care.
"If I may speak without fear of being misunderstood..."
"Go on."
Henry nodded.
His expression wordlessly conveyed that what was said here would remain between them.
"His Majesty is hardly human."
"Oh?"
"I ask you to think calmly as well, Brother. Where does His Majesty's 'desire' lie?"
"......That is a difficult question."
Caught off guard, Henry fell into thought for a moment before his face soured.
"That in itself is the answer. In His Majesty, one can scarcely find any of the desires that a man—no, a human being—ought to have. This is nothing new; it has been the case since his childhood. You ought to know that even better than I, Brother."
"That is true... To be frank, at first I thought he was an insolent child, then a precocious child, and after that..."
"—Words fail to describe him."
Oscar finished the thought, and Henry gave a clear nod.
It was a sentiment shared between them.
Ironically, after spending the entire day probing each other, the very first thing on which the two brothers found complete agreement was their evaluation of Noah.
"You must have heard it as well, Brother. There is a phrase His Majesty occasionally utters."
"Hmm?"
"'Grin and bear it; that is the privilege of the nobility.'"
"Ah."
Henry nodded.
Indeed, he had heard those words from Noah's lips on numerous occasions.
It was an expression Noah often used when discussing the nobility.
"I understand what he means. It is a matter of principle—that this is how nobles ought to be. And naturally, if one adheres strictly to that principle, it inevitably takes the form of putting on a brave face. That part is fine. However, His Majesty called it..."
"...A privilege."
This time Henry completed the thought, and Oscar quietly nodded.
The probing atmosphere from earlier was gone without a trace, replaced by a scene where the brothers' minds seemed entirely aligned.
"Saying that nobles are meant to endure hardship is one thing, but calling it a privilege..."
"Indeed. For us, for any normal person, that would be the case. Yet His Majesty can say it naturally, without straining in the least."
Oscar paused, drew a deep breath, and looked Henry in the eye with a serious expression as he concluded his thought.
"In that sense, I believe His Majesty is hardly human."
With that, the conversation came full circle.
Henry nodded.
At first, he had wondered what Oscar meant, but once laid out logically, he honestly had no choice but to agree.
"Indeed..."
"On the other hand, His Majesty understands human emotions. While valuing the law above all else, he clearly comprehends human sentiment. The most symbolic example of this was when Gilbert's assassination plot was uncovered."
"Did he do something back then?"
Henry visibly tilted his head in confusion.
"Gilbert plotted to assassinate the late Emperor, and His Majesty exposed it. For the assassination of an emperor, execution by waist chop is the only option—and His Majesty, serving as Minister of Justice at the time, stated as much."
"Yes, that is very much like His Majesty."
"At the same time, because the plot was uncovered before it could be carried out, he argued it could be treated as an attempt. In that case, while execution by waist chop could not be avoided, he advised the late Emperor that a stay of execution could be granted."
"...Hmm?"
Henry tilted his head again, still seeming unable to grasp the point.
Oscar let out a soft chuckle.
"It is only natural you wouldn't see it; that is a concept only a legal expert would reach. I only made the connection myself one day while researching something entirely different."
Oscar's face turned serious once more as he continued.
"If a stay of execution is granted, the decision of when to carry out the sentence rests entirely on His Majesty's discretion."
"...Ah!"
Realization dawned upon Henry.
Oscar smiled faintly, an expression that seemed to say he had reacted the exact same way upon realizing it.
"And under Imperial Law, there is no set deadline by which the sentence must absolutely be executed. In other words, if His Majesty so desires..."
"...He can keep him neutralized for the rest of his life."
"Precisely. 'Never do today what can be put off until tomorrow.' Hearing those words on some occasion is what gave me the clue. I then scoured Imperial Law from corner to corner and discovered this."
"I see... Scoundrel though he may be, Gilbert is still a son. The eldest son, at that."
"Any decent parent would hesitate. What's more, the late Emperor felt a slight sense of guilt toward Gilbert."
"Because despite being the eldest son, he was never made Crown Prince simply for being the child of a concubine."
"Exactly. With all those factors aligned, Brother, could you bring yourself to carry out the execution?"
"...I don't know."
"Indeed, nor could I. Naturally, Father was the same. Even with the assassination plot exposed, he was still his child, and one he felt indebted to. His Majesty surely took all of that into account when he presented the option of a stay of execution. A man who is merely strict about the law could never produce such an answer."
"You have a point."
Henry nodded firmly.
Both he and Oscar had reached this conclusion.
Now transitioning from their prime into middle age, both men had sons of their own.
Precisely because of that, they could empathize far more deeply with what it meant for a father to pass judgment on his son compared to back then.
Whether one could carry out the execution if placed in that position—no.
They almost certainly could not.
"Of course, those words from earlier were what sparked my realization, but having children of my own was what truly allowed me to understand it."
"Indeed."
"That is why... His Majesty is extraordinary. At that time, he had no children, let alone a legal wife."
"That is true."
"That is what makes him so difficult to fathom. He possesses no human desires of his own, yet he understands human emotion so thoroughly. Such is His Majesty's true nature."
"..."
Henry found himself in deep agreement with Oscar's words.
"Which is why—he is hardly human."
For the third time, Oscar uttered the exact same words.
Hardly human.
At this point, that assessment felt so fitting that one could hardly think of him in any other way.
"If he is hardly human, then what would you call him?"
"If I had to say... perhaps a god."
Oscar shrugged playfully.
"That is a joke I cannot laugh at."
"Yet isn't that the ideal form of a god?"
"Even so, I still cannot laugh."
Henry offered a wry smile, and Oscar, who had brought it up in the first place, shrugged once more and laughed.
While smiling wryly, Henry secretly felt a sense of admiration.
Oscar knew full well that Henry had come to probe him.
Henry himself had not bothered to hide it all that much.
It was an open secret that Oscar still coveted the throne.
Henry had come to probe various matters ahead of the personal campaign.
Yet Oscar had parried it all brilliantly.
At first, the atmosphere had frozen over with the words "hardly human," but Oscar had turned it around by framing it as "because he seems like nothing less than a god."
Once put that way, whether said in earnest or in jest, he could deflect everything behind the shield of "I believe he is a god."
In the end, Oscar had proven himself a step ahead.
(He truly is a man of exceptional talent... If only he would swear absolute loyalty to His Majesty...)
His probing mission had failed, but as Henry reaffirmed the sheer capability of the talent that was Oscar, a quiet sense of regret lingered within his heart.