* * *
After days of attending balls, Ed and Ronen were enjoying a languid afternoon in the garden.
Loa darted around, kicking up clouds of dust, while the small dragon leaped onto Ronen’s head.
Ronen froze, afraid the creature might fall, and hesitantly raised a hand to touch it, only for the dragon to fly over to Ed instead.
“Ah!” Ronen stomped his feet in frustration as Ed tried to gently scold the dragon.
Knock, knock.
The sound of someone rapping on the office door preceded Jaynon’s swift entrance.
“Your Grace.”
His expression was grim.
“A letter from the Imperial Palace.”
The Grand Duke silently stared at the golden envelope Jaynon handed him, then set it on the desk.
“Spring has melted the roads. Is it a demand to send supplies to the capital? Or perhaps…”
Jaynon’s anxiety was palpable as he voiced his guess.
The Grand Duke sat down and responded calmly.
“Who knows? When has the Emperor ever cared about the roads in the North? If he’s writing for such a mundane reason, I might actually welcome it.”
“True. They’d normally just send orders without fanfare, not wrap them in a gilded envelope like this.”
Exactly. Which made it all the more suspicious.
The Grand Duke recalled another letter from the Emperor, received back when he was in Count Herins’ estate.
Back then, the Emperor had outwardly extended a hand of familial camaraderie, only to set up a stage to humiliate Ronen behind the scenes.
“Where is the courier who delivered this letter?”
“I’ve directed them to the drawing room.”
“I assume they didn’t insist on meeting me or delivering any message directly?”
“That’s correct. They made no such requests.”
The Grand Duke nodded faintly.
“Make sure they’re well accommodated and sent off in comfort. Also, ensure that news of this letter doesn’t leak. We don’t want the castle to fall into turmoil.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Once Jaynon left, silence filled the room.
Rising, the Grand Duke walked to the window, looking out at Ed and Ronen as they continued their carefree play.
His gaze lingered for a moment before he sat back down, leaning into his chair.
The Empress Dowager and the Golden Dragon.
The Grand Duke thought of the events from a few days ago as he finally opened the letter.
To Grand Duke Asnel Lyndon,
Spring winds have reached even the snow-covered northern mountains, where the Goddess of Spring arrives last in the Empire.
I hear the North lingers in slumber while the capital is abuzz with preparations for the new season.
As Emperor, I am ever occupied with prayers and plans for the Empire’s peace and future. Recently, as if in response to my devotion, a record of prophecy from the former High Priest was uncovered.
The prophecy speaks of a scar upon the Empire’s heart that can only be healed by the meeting of the “Sword of the North, imbued with dragon’s blood,” and “the light that carries the essence of the Frozen Lake.”
The Sword refers to you, Grand Duke, while the light is said to be a descendant of the Zelda people. Rejoice, for your destiny is intertwined with the Empire’s salvation. With your union, the Empire’s long-standing grief shall be lifted.
I entrust myself fully to this prophecy and pledge to find your destined bride. Before spring departs the North, I shall announce joyous news throughout the Empire.
The Grand Duke’s hands clenched the letter tightly as he processed the Emperor’s manipulative words, skillfully blending truth with deceit.
‘This is a ploy to prevent Ed and me from sanctifying our union at the High Temple. By doing so, the Emperor hopes to redirect the Empire’s unrest toward me.’
His jaw tightened as he thought of the Emperor’s actions—using the Zelda people he once massacred to suit his own ends.
‘If I refuse the bride he claims the prophecy demands, the Empire’s problems will be blamed on me for defying fate. And if I accept, it will only serve as proof that the prophecy was fabricated, for the one sent will not match the prophecy’s true intent.’
No matter how the dice were cast, the Emperor had designed this situation to play in his favor.
The Grand Duke leaned back and exhaled a sharp, bitter laugh, envisioning the battles ahead.
By the following morning, the Imperial newspapers were ablaze with headlines about the Emperor’s noble efforts and the revelation of the High Priest’s prophecy.
That morning, Ed noticed the unusual commotion in the castle as he stepped out of his room.
Spotting Jaynon rushing past with an armful of newspapers and documents, Ed called out.
“Jaynon.”
“Ah, Ed.”
“What’s going on?”
Before Jaynon could answer, the Grand Duke appeared, grabbing Ed’s wrist.
“Ed, we need to talk.”
As the Grand Duke signaled to Zainon and stepped toward the room, Ed quickly matched his pace.
“It seems unusually lively in the northern castle today,” Ed remarked as he took a seat on the sofa.
The Grand Duke handed him a glass of water before responding.
After taking a sip and setting the glass down, the Grand Duke finally spoke.
“A letter arrived from the Emperor.”
“From the Emperor?” Ed repeated, his voice tinged with curiosity.
The Grand Duke gave a small nod and handed Ed a newspaper.
Ed’s eyes scanned the bold headline on the front page, accompanied by a portrait of the Emperor.
His gaze sharpened as he caught sight of a prophecy from the former high priest, prompting him to look up abruptly.
“…This…”
“It’s a public ploy, and sooner than I expected,” the Grand Duke replied, taking a sip of water.
“The former high priest passed away long ago. Though he was highly respected, any traces of him seemed to have been deliberately erased after his death.”
The Grand Duke seemed lost in thought, gauging the timing of the high priest’s death.
It was not long after the late Emperor had been given the prophecy.
“For the Emperor to now bring the former high priest into the spotlight suggests he’s feeling cornered.”
“Cornered, how?”
“Well, the West hasn’t seen a drop of rain this spring, the Southeast recently suffered a massive fire, and monsters have appeared in the South,” the Grand Duke explained.
Ed listened intently as the Grand Duke continued.
“And with the Emperor attempting to raise taxes, tensions among the nobles are at an all-time high.”
“…”
“On top of that, there’s the dispute over Goya Island. The Emperor likely wants to shift attention away from these grievances.”
“Goya Island—that’s the Empress Dowager’s homeland, isn’t it?” Ed asked.
“That’s correct.”
“If the dispute involves Goya Island…”
Goya Island was a small nation known for its abundant seafood.
Ed lowered his gaze to the table, thinking deeply.
When the realization struck him, he looked up.
“Salt.”
“…”
“The supply of salt from Goya Island must have been disrupted.”
The Grand Duke smiled, as if to confirm Ed’s deduction.
“Yes. The Emperor despises the Princess, but he can’t eliminate her, and this is one of the reasons why.”
“Because if Goya Island uses the salt trade as leverage to pressure the royal family, the nobles who profit from that trade would rise up in protest?”
The Grand Duke nodded.
“Last summer’s typhoon gave Goya Island an excuse to cut salt shipments. But the real motive was to demand the Empress Dowager and the Princess be freed from confinement.”
“…”
“The nobles’ loyalty ultimately comes down to their coffers. The Emperor knows this. If their financial resources dry up, their discontent will only grow.”
Ed nodded in understanding.
* * *
