Night had fallen inside the office.
For some time after the sun went down, I had been organizing paperwork at my desk.
By the time the lantern oil had been refilled for the third time, a knock came at the door: tap, tap.
When I answered, Zoe stepped inside, murmuring, "Excuse me."
She stopped on the other side of my desk, her heels clicking together sharply.
"What is it?" I asked without looking up.
"There is a matter I wish to bring to Master's attention."
"Hmm?"
Noticing an uncharacteristically tense edge in her voice, I paused and raised my head.
Sure enough, Zoe wore an expression as grim as her tone.
"What's happened?"
"A representative from the Basque Firm approached me just now, requesting that I arrange an audience with Master. In doing so, he offered a thousand Rien."
"Quite generous for a simple introduction... Though, considering your current standing, perhaps that's par for the course."
I nodded.
Passing bribes under the table to servants or gatekeepers to secure an audience was hardly unusual.
If the visitor were a retainer from another imperial prince's household, or a messenger delivering official notices from a government bureau, no such bribe would be needed. Failing to let those people through could deal a fatal blow to the master's own interests.
However, a first-time visitor relying merely on a letter of introduction had little other choice.
A stranger showing up with nothing but an introductory letter was almost always of far lower status than the person they sought to meet.
In other words, their position was weak.
Taking advantage of that vulnerability, gatekeepers and servants often refused to pass along their requests.
It was spiteful, yet it followed a certain logic.
From a gatekeeper's perspective, they had no way of knowing who the stranger truly was. Even if a letter of introduction was presented, determining whether it was genuine or important was impossible for anyone below the master of the house or a high-ranking butler. At the gatehouse level, the risk that the visitor was an infiltrator using forged credentials could never be entirely ruled out.
If one adhered to strict caution—crossing the stone bridge only after tapping it to test its safety—barring entry made reasonable sense.
Exploiting that fact, plenty of gatekeepers and servants routinely accepted bribes in exchange for granting passage. Such "brokerage fees" had become a widely tolerated convention.
Naturally, the higher the status of the parties involved, the steeper the price.
Currently, the average monthly wage for an adult male in the imperial capital was around twenty Rien, and even here in Enlil Province, it hovered between ten and fifteen.
Yet this man had produced a thousand Rien merely as an introductory fee—an amount roughly equivalent to six years of an ordinary commoner's earnings.
As an absolute figure, it was steep. But when considering he was asking Zoe, the de facto deputy governor-general, to broker a meeting with me—the Emperor himself, even if temporarily self-demoted to Governor-General—it was the going market rate, hardly excessive.
Still, there was no denying its sheer boldness, which earned a touch of my admiration. Perhaps because I had taken to commanding armies more often lately, I recognized a kinship with the tactic of striking decisively with overwhelming force rather than feeding troops in piecemeal.
Zoe seemed to share the sentiment.
"He is certainly quick to seize an opportunity. If Master were still reigning as Your Majesty, he could not have secured an audience even with a hundred times that amount."
"True enough."
That was the nature of the Emperor.
Gaining an audience with the Emperor was no longer a question of money. Without an introduction from an influential figure, an exceptional status of one's own, or a once-in-a-lifetime stroke of sheer fortune, it was utterly impossible.
Thus, both Zoe and I could appreciate the man's sharp timing in striking while money could still open the door.
"Even so... Basque, was it?"
I sifted through the knowledge stored in my head.
"That merchant's name rings a bell. If I recall, isn't he the man who runs the largest brothel in Enlil?"
"Precisely, Master."
"And he wants to see me right this moment?"
"Though he phrased it delicately, that was clearly his intent."
"Hmm."
I nodded and looked aside toward the window.
It was pitch-black outside.
To demand an audience at this hour of the night, dropping a thousand-Rien bribe without batting an eye...
He was clearly no ordinary merchant. I would need to keep my wits about me.
"How would you like to proceed? Given the hour, turning him away for tonight would be entirely reasonable."
"No, I'll see him. Put him in one of the standard parlors. I'll be right over."
"Understood."
Zoe bowed and withdrew from the room.
I finished penning the rest of the document on my desk and rose from my seat. Stepping into the hallway, another waiting maid bowed and took the lead.
I followed in silence.
We arrived at one of the estate's reception parlors.
The maid opened the door, and I stepped inside.
A man was standing beside the sofa.
He was stoutly built and evidently sensitive to the heat, with heavy beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.
The moment his eyes met mine, the merchant dropped flat against the floor.
It was not the refined etiquette practiced by kings, lords, generals, and ministers, but a desperate, low prostration reminiscent of a commoner's dogeza.
"It is an honor to lay eyes upon you, Your Majesty. I am Kegna Basque. On this occasion—"
"Dispense with the formalities, and drop the 'Your Majesty.' I am here as the Governor-General, not the Emperor."
"A-A thousand pardons, Your Grace."
"Take a seat for now."
"Yes, my lord!"
A standard sofa set occupied the center of the room.
I sat down, but though the merchant stood up, he refused to take a seat.
Declining to sit was a recognized gesture of deference in situations like this, so I didn't press the matter.
Looking up at him from the sofa, I asked, "So, what business brings you here?"
"First, if you would please look upon this."
Kegna moved toward a corner of the room, slightly apart from the sitting area, where a large mound rested beneath a red cloth.
He swept the cloth aside.
Beneath it lay an assortment of open chests and tabletop displays, revealing a dazzling collection of gold and silver treasures.
The quality and quantity were both remarkable.
By a quick estimate, they were worth around thirty thousand Rien.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Merely a modest token of my devotion, Your Grace."
Despite his humble words, Kegna wore a smug, self-satisfied grin.
He was clearly bursting with pride over the sheer value of his offering. Calling it a "modest token" did nothing to hide his absolute confidence that the gift's quality and volume would satisfy any man.
"Very well. And what is it you want from me?"
"Yes, my lord... I humbly request an expansion of the legal quota for prostitutes."
"I see."
So that's his game, I thought, nodding to myself.
It fell well within my expectations.
Throughout the Empire, the number of registered prostitutes was strictly capped by region. Quotas were calculated primarily on population figures, estimating how many women a given population would require.
Sex and food shared the trait of having an inherent demand, yet also an upper limit to that demand. Barring extreme outliers, an individual human's appetite and sexual drive had definite boundaries.
If that was true, then just as one could calculate the essential grain supply for a collective population, one could likewise calculate the necessary number of prostitutes.
Of course, every living person required grain to survive, whereas prostitutes were not an absolute necessity for every individual. Even so, looking at the broader picture across an entire province, distinct patterns emerged, making the math reliable.
Enlil Province was no exception. It possessed a legally defined quota tailored to its population, which was allocated among local merchants.
Back when I was first appointed Minister of Justice, people who knew my reputation for strict legalism petitioned me, arguing that profiting from prostitution was immoral and should be stamped out entirely. I flatly rejected their proposal.
Precisely because of my strict adherence to the law, I knew all too well that attempting to crush and suppress primal human desires—immoral though they might be—would only drive them underground.
Demand would never vanish. Clamping down with rigid prohibitions would merely push it into the lawless shadows.
Should that happen, it would breed countless secondary problems far worse than the original moral offense.
That was true then, and it remained true now.
For that reason, I had dismissed their petition, choosing instead to focus our efforts on strictly enforcing the designated quotas.
And it was that very quota this merchant, Kegna, was now bringing up.
"What prompts this request?"
"The truth is, Your Grace, in the wake of great disasters, demand surges dramatically."
"..."
"It has always been so in the past, and it is so today. To be entirely candid, our current number of women simply cannot handle the volume of patrons."
"I see."
"Therefore, I beg for your gracious dispensation. I am well aware it was Your Majesty who established the quotas, and yet..."
Kegna cast an obsequious, fawning glance in my direction.
He was still calling me "Your Majesty," and I wasn't even the one who had instituted the quota system in the first place.
Correcting him now, however, was pointless.
"Understood."
"Then...?"
"Submit a formal application tomorrow. That will suffice."
"Thank you, Your Grace! Thank you immensely!"
Kegna bowed his head with exaggerated fervor.
Yet in the instant he lowered his face, a faint flicker of contempt showed through his triumphant expression.
After Kegna took his leave, I remained on the sofa, quietly eyeing the mountain of treasures he had left behind.
Almost crossing paths with him on his way out, Zoe stepped into the parlor.
"Pardon me, Master... Are you certain about this?"
"Hmm?"
"Granting such a request... If you do so here and now, the, er... looser tongues among the public will..."
Zoe hesitated, her face tight with worry.
"Well?"
"If you move to expand the quota for prostitutes, vicious rumors questioning Master's morals will inevitably spread..."
"Let them talk."
"Pardon?"
"What that man said is true. Incidents tied to such urges invariably spike after a major disaster."
"..."
"Reports of looting, sexual assault, and related crimes are noticeably higher than usual. A temporary expansion of the quota during a crisis cannot be categorically dismissed as the wrong move."
"E-Even if that is true, for Master's name to be tarnished..."
"Let those who want to gossip have their say."
I offered a faint smirk.
Such trivialities didn't bother me in the least.
While I had no personal need for brothels, I recognized that the vast majority of men in the world did. Rather than banning the practice and inviting violent crime, managing it strictly as a regulated trade was far more effective.
"More importantly... Let's see. Go fetch John and Rion."
"Eh? Y-Yes, right away."
Looking thoroughly bewildered, Zoe turned to carry out the order, placing her hand on the doorknob.
"Hold on."
"Yes, Master?"
"Before that, there is something I need you to do."
I raised my hand toward Zoe as she halted.
As she looked on in confusion, the ring on my finger flared with light.
A few days later, in the office during the afternoon.
John and Rion stood before me.
"Sorry for the sudden assignment."
"Ah, don't sweat it! If it's a sweet gig like this, I'm game anytime!"
"Easy for you to say. I had a hell of a time making up excuses to Mary," John muttered with a wry grimace, while Rion beamed with an ear-to-ear grin.
"Excuses?" I tilted my head. "It was an order directly from me. Couldn't you have just told her that?"
"Nah, I figured if word leaked that I was snooping around under Master's direct orders, it'd blow our cover."
"I see. Fair point. Once this entire matter is settled, I'll explain everything to Mary myself. Until then, bear with it."
"No, no, it's fine, Master. Once I got inside and saw what was going on, I knew this whole setup was completely rotten anyway."
"Tell me about it. I felt the exact same way..."
The two exchanged solemn nods of agreement.
Following Kegna's visit, I had sent them on an undercover assignment.
They had posed as regular patrons at Kegna's establishment to investigate its true inner workings. Sensing something crooked about the man, I had wanted more intel before making a move, using John and Rion to scout the place from a customer's perspective.
"Still, sniffing out that something was fishy from just that one meeting and sending us in—that was brilliant, Master."
"Couldn't agree more."
Both John and Rion offered their earnest praise.
"Let's hear it, then. Give me your report."