As Alice praised me, my mind drifted back to a conversation I had shared alone with First Prime Minister Don not long ago.
☆
Upon my enthronement, the former Thirteenth Imperial Prince Mansion had been formally elevated in status from a "residence" to a "detached palace."
Along with that upgrade came expansions, framed under the guise of renovations, to match the grandeur befitting a detached palace.
Not only had the main estate been overhauled, but the grounds had also been appropriately landscaped.
Deep within those increasingly lavish gardens, far from the ears of any servants, Don and I walked side by side.
Once my elder brother's trusted confidant, Don now served as the empire's First Prime Minister and my own right-hand man.
With him trailing slightly behind, we held our secret counsel amid the garden path.
"Public works, Your Majesty?"
"Yes. Undertake as many as possible."
"Even if you say so... there is only so much work to be found."
"Then manufacture it."
Having outlined the general direction, I offered a concrete example.
"To take it to an extreme: this month, strip the plaster from the walls of this detached palace to repair the Retired Emperor's palace. Next month, strip the walls of his palace to repair this one."
"That strikes me as remarkably wasteful."
"Just ensure the contractors don't skim off the top. So long as the coin reaches the laborers, it serves its purpose."
"And what of corvée labor?"
"Let me think."
I paused for a moment.
The "corvée" Don mentioned referred, simply put, to subjects who paid their taxes through physical labor.
Because it was technically a tax payment, they were not normally entitled to wages.
"Pay them a modest sum. I'll leave the exact balance to your discretion."
"Your Majesty..."
"Hmm?"
I stopped and looked back over my shoulder.
Don halted as well, his expression sour, as if he had just bitten into something foul.
"..."
"Speak your mind. Whatever it is, you have my full immunity here."
"Then I shall speak freely. Your Majesty, are you aware that the empire's treasury suffers from a chronic deficit?"
"Yes, I know."
I gave a faint nod.
It was a reality drilled into me since childhood, one that remained entirely unresolved to this day.
As the empire's borders expanded, expenditures swelled in kind, steadily tightening the vice on imperial finances.
For now, it remained merely a "chronic" condition rather than an immediate crisis.
"Knowing that, you still intend to squander funds?"
"If this were an ordinary household budget, cutting spending to offset a deficit would be the correct approach."
"What do you mean by that?"
Recognizing that my tone was completely at odds with the word "correct," Don pressed the question with a furrowed brow.
"That logic relies on a single prerequisite."
"Which is?"
"It only works if income is fixed, or at least stable. It applies to individuals who draw a guaranteed monthly wage."
"...If income is fixed, reducing expenses will naturally turn a deficit into a surplus."
"Exactly. But a state does not operate like a household. What constitutes the bulk of this country's—the empire's—revenue?"
"Tax revenue... along with the spoils of conquest and tribute from our vassal states."
"Correct. The empire is a nation of warriors; it sustains its income by continually rolling over its wars."
I leveled a steady, serious gaze at him and continued.
"If we slash spending, we inevitably reduce military funding, which in turn shrinks our revenue. Beyond that, if we suddenly tighten our purse strings, how will the neighboring vassal states interpret it?"
"...As a sign that the empire has weakened?"
"Precisely. Once they perceive that weakness, their tribute will naturally decline. Our baseline income would crater, and rather than shrinking the deficit by cutting costs, we could very well end up widening it."
"That is... a fair point."
"In short: so long as the deficit remains merely 'chronic,' the empire must keep up appearances and refuse to cut spending. Slashing spending reduces revenue; stuck in the red, we would cut spending further, only to bleed even more revenue. It becomes a vicious cycle."
"I see... As expected of Your Majesty. My foresight did not extend that far."
Don's face visibly brightened from its earlier gloom.
"In other words, by funding public works, you intend to preserve the overall volume of taxable wealth."
"That is the idea."
"Understood. I shall proceed on that basis."
"I'm counting on you."
"Even so, if the economy were already flourishing, such measures wouldn't be necessary in the first place."
"...Tell me, what do you think it actually means for an economy to flourish?"
"Pardon? Well, that would be..."
Caught off guard by my sudden pivot and the riddle-like query, Don knit his brows and searched for an answer.
"That the common people possess wealth... perhaps?"
"That earns you fifty points."
"What is missing?"
"Merely having money in the hands of the populace does not create a healthy economy."
"...Then what does?"
"Let me tell you a story. There was once an era where frugality was considered the highest virtue, and every citizen hoarded vast sums of wealth. Even ordinary commoners held enough savings to survive for a decade if they lived modestly."
"That sounds commendable."
"Yet everyone merely saved and refused to spend. The money was there, but no one circulated it. What do you think happened under those conditions?"
"Wait... Ah."
Understanding dawned on Don's face.
I smirked softly.
"Indeed. The people had money, but they never used it. Naturally, commerce stagnated. And yet..."
"...Because they had savings, no one felt any sense of impending crisis."
"Exactly. The economy slowly withered away, and by the time the cracks broke through to the surface, it was already far too late. Their precious savings had quietly eroded, too."
"I recall the tale now. You speak of the Hussar Kingdom."
"I do."
I nodded firmly.
While researching history some time ago, the fate of the Hussar Kingdom had caught my attention, prompting me to study its collapse in detail.
The broad strokes were common knowledge among scholars, so Don was naturally familiar with the premise.
"Returning to my earlier question: 'Wealth is distributed widely among the people, and they possess an active willingness to spend it.' That is the baseline condition for economic prosperity."
"...Or at least the awareness that even if they lack money now, honest labor will always earn them more."
"A hundred and twenty points."
Don had bridged the gap from "willingness" to "awareness."
My First Prime Minister was as sharp as ever, which brought a brief flash of satisfaction to my chest.
"You've grasped the core of it."
"Fascinating... I have learned a great deal. To perceive the true essence of the problem so clearly—truly magnificent, Your Majesty."
I let out a quiet chuckle.
"That is why you must push forward with these meaningless public works, and not just in the capital. Instill in the laborers the unshakable belief that 'there will be work tomorrow' and 'labor yields coin.' Just be ruthless in stamping out any contractors who try to pocket the funds. Execute a few as a public warning if necessary."
"Understood! If I may ask, why place such importance on the common laborers...?"
"Unlike the middlemen who skim the profits, ordinary laborers have no instinct for hoarding wealth. They spend whatever they earn. Scatter the coin among them, and they will naturally spark the gears of the economy."
"To think that far ahead... Truly remarkable..."
☆
With Alice attending quietly by my side, I continued sifting through the reports.
Compared to pressing wartime dispatches, these routine administrative tasks were straightforward.
Nine out of ten required no action beyond acknowledgment; I merely read through them and appended a single word at the end: Approved.
With the Emperor's personal endorsement in place, returning the document was all it took for the bureaucracy to carry out the policy.
Though the work proceeded smoothly, the sheer volume eventually wore on me.
After scrawling the usual Approved, a dull ache settled into my shoulders, prompting me to roll them out in small circles.
"Perhaps it is time you took a rest, Your Majesty?"
Alice, who had remained silently attentive while neatly folding every report I finished, finally spoke up.
"Yeah, you're probably right."
I glanced at the remaining stack of papers.
A considerable pile remained, but none of it was urgent or essential.
Setting it aside for the day wouldn't cause the slightest issue.
"Your Majesty, why do you write your responses by hand rather than using a seal? For routine matters like these—"
Alice glanced down at the latest document I had marked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Wouldn't Your Majesty's imperial seal suffice for a simple acknowledgment?"
"You're sharp."
I offered the praise sincerely.
"Pardon?"
"You're right that it would save effort. But a seal offers no real proof that the Emperor actually read the document. Anyone can press a stamp, after all."
"Yet you keep the seal on your person at all times, do you not...?"
"See for yourself."
Grinning, I reached into my robes and extended the official imperial seal toward her.
Alice instinctively caught it in her hands before shrinking back in sheer terror at what she was holding.
"Th-This is...!"
"History is full of this sort of thing. A favored consort taking care of the paperwork in the monarch's stead, and so on."
"I-Is that so...?"
"At the end of the day, a seal proves nothing. A thumbprint carries more weight, but even then, it only serves as proof if properly inspected. To the official receiving it on the far end—"
I cut myself off.
A sudden realization struck me.
Like a flash of white lightning, an idea tore through my mind.
"What is the matter, Your Majesty?"
"I just had a brilliant idea."
"A brilliant idea?"
"It should be entirely possible... And the one who can execute it best is..."
After a brief pause, I held my ring before my eyes and called out inwardly.
Apophis, can you manage this?
Apophis resonated immediately in response to my call.
Receiving its affirmation, I turned my back to Alice to shield the process from view.
Reaching for a pristine sheet of blank parchment from the desk, I pressed my finger lightly against the corner.
The power of Apophis surged from the ring.
A vibrant, shifting luminescence flowed onto the parchment, etching my personal crest into the corner of the page.
Satisfied with the result, I turned back around and handed the sheet to a thoroughly bewildered Alice.
"Take a look."
"Yes... Ah...!"
The moment her eyes landed on the paper, Alice gasped, her eyes flying wide.
"This is... Your Majesty?!"
"Yes. That crest."
I gave a faint nod and manifested the crest behind me for comparison.
It was the very sigil that commanded instant recognition—the mark that compelled even complete strangers to realize, It's the Emperor!
"I adapted its power to the parchment."
"I see... With this, anyone who looks upon it will..."
"Exactly. They'll know on pure instinct that it belongs to the Emperor."
The capability had been within my grasp all along, but the thought of applying it this way had never crossed my mind.
Unaware that she had provided the very spark for the breakthrough, Alice looked up at me.
"Incredible... Far more than any seal or handwriting, this proclaims 'Your Majesty' beyond any doubt..."
Her eyes shone with unreserved reverence as she gazed at me.