The Empress Tames the Tyrant - Chapter 33

By the time Glenn arrived after being summoned, the desk in the study was already cluttered with various scraps of paper. Cayenne, leaning forward with his arms spread wide, was glaring at them so intensely it seemed as if he intended to kill them. He did not even notice Glenn enter.

“I greet Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Dispense with the formalities and look at this.”

At the grave tone of his voice, Glenn nodded immediately and stood beside Cayenne to inspect the desk.

“Are these combat records?”

“They are.”

“Your Majesty, you need not trouble yourself with records. If you ask me, I remember every detail.”

Without answering, Cayenne tucked a few more slips of paper into the arrangement. They were also combat records.

“Do you still not see it?”

“Forgive me, Sire, but I do not understand what you are asking.”

“Indeed. I did not see it either.”

Cayenne had been raised in the brutal environment of Rubeo from a young age. Naturally, he had grown to believe that Rubeo was a harsh territory eternally stained with blood. Even after he became Emperor, that fact had not changed.

“What if we arrange them like this?”

As he inserted a few more slips, the fierce history of Rubeo’s battles seemed to come alive on the desk. Finally, a glimmer of a clue appeared before Glenn’s eyes.

“The black slips represent formal battles recorded as territorial disputes. The yellow slips show the first instances of barbarian infiltration. And finally.”

“Yes. The red slips mark the times they brought mercenaries with them.”

The commonalities and differences between the original slips and those added later were clearly visible, marked in different colors.

“Why did no one notice?”

The battles fought in Rubeo were too numerous to count, and they certainly could not all fit on a single desk. However, what lay before them now were only the battles that had occurred since Cayenne’s ascension to the throne.

“This is,” Glenn started, unable to finish his sentence out of shock.

“I am not finished yet.”

Cayenne flicked away the slip representing the first battle.

“The first battle after my coronation. The Knight Commander was wounded.”

“Yes. But it was our victory.”

“Indeed. The battles against the barbarians always ended in our victory.”

His finger flicked away two more slips in succession.

“This time, and this time! We have always been victorious.”

There was no need to speak of the rest. Even if the late Emperor had acquired the territory through excessive force, with Count Hyer and the knighthood present, territorial disputes should not have dragged on for this long.

“Here, here, and here! Every single one was our victory.”

Count Hyer had struggled to rebuild Rubeo from what was essentially a wasteland, and the adult Cayenne had shared that ambition. Yet, no matter how much they fortified the land or invested effort, barbarian attacks always struck at the most critical moments, unraveling a year’s worth of planning in an instant.

“Glenn, do you remember the battles before my coronation?”

“They were fought with the blood of our knights. How could I forget?”

“Then tell me. What changed after I took the throne?”

Glenn stared at the scattered slips.

“The number of battles decreased sharply.”

That was the natural result of a string of Imperial victories. No one had doubted that fact.

“However, I did not think the actual number of battles was so high. I did not realize so many events were recorded as formal territorial disputes.”

Normally, minor skirmishes were not categorized as formal Imperial territorial disputes. Yet, starting from the year of Cayenne’s coronation, the number of officially recorded battles was exceptionally high.

“Coincidentally, starting right after my coronation?”

The existence of official territorial disputes was a primary indicator used to demonstrate an Emperor’s incompetence. Regardless of how Rubeo and Cayenne had actually won, that was how the records were being written in the Empire.

“This is clearly the work of Duke Nigel. He must have manipulated the parliamentary archivists.”

“I do not need to ask you about such obvious things. Is there not a more fundamental problem?”

“Pardon?”

“The Empress asked me a question.”

At the mention of such an unexpected person, Glenn looked puzzled.

“She asked why the invasions never stop.”

Hearing words that sounded like they came from a typical woman of the inner palace, Glenn swallowed a smirk.

“That is because the territory was taken by force, it is a wasteland, and the barbarians are.”

“We always won. In the process, we took the heads of countless barbarians and mercenaries. So why do the invasions never stop?”

“Is it not because the defeated barbarians simply gather their strength again and tiresomely attack?”

Cayenne had thought so too. Everyone had. Even Glenn could not understand why Cayenne was speaking of such an obvious matter with such gravity.

“I gave her that very answer. Then, the Empress asked me another. She asked if the number of barbarians and mercenaries just keeps increasing.”

“What? That is impossible.”

Glenn started to laugh off the absurd idea, but his face suddenly froze.

“Exactly.”

Finally, he understood the Emperor’s true meaning.

“We were victorious, and they died. So why do they continue to invade as if their numbers are growing?”

Alicia’s question was simple, almost childlike. But at the same time, it pierced through a truth that everyone else had easily overlooked.

“Are their numbers truly infinite?”

“That cannot be.”

Glenn’s voice was filled with confusion. Cayenne slammed his fist down on a red slip with a heavy thud.

“And where are these mercenaries coming from? Have the barbarians discovered a gold mine since I took the throne?”

Rubeo is a land stained with blood, where war and conflict never end. This perceived, unchangeable fact had prevented anyone from daring to question the phenomenon. It was a truly cunning ploy.

“They are people who know nothing but raiding by nature. So.”

“Then it seems someone has been kind enough to buy them mercenaries and place weapons in their hands.”

A truly chilling conclusion had arisen from such a simple question.

“Your Majesty, this, depending on the circumstances, could be considered treason.”

“It is already treason. It is obvious who in this continent would show such kindness to barbarians!”

Cayenne swept the papers off the desk in a burst of frustration and rage.

“I am currently very disappointed and very angry.”

“Your Majesty, I should have known.”

“No. We were all blinded. I cannot blame only you.”

The dry days spent on the battlefield had caused them to forget ordinary life. At some point, Cayenne had begun to go out and strike down barbarians mechanically. Because that life had gone on for so long, a certain resolve had vanished.

“I, at some point, gave up on the idea that I could pull them out by the roots.”

He did not want to admit it, but the fighting had become a routine. He never felt that a battle would be the last. He simply fortified the defenses because he viewed it as a land where battle would always break out again.

“Intoxicated by small victories, I turned Rubeo into an eternal battlefield. I grew arrogant over daily triumphs and forgot the original goal of ending this war completely.”

His fist clenched tightly, radiating his fury.

“Those who died in battle after my coronation did not die because of the Empire’s enemies, but because of this very Empire!”

They were words an Emperor should never say, but Cayenne did not care. He could not tell if his anger toward Duke Nigel’s faction was greater than his disappointment in himself.

“Your Majesty, this is the fault of myself and the Knight Commander. I.”

“No,” Cayenne cut Glenn off with a low voice. “This is the fault of those filthy people.”

If he were an Emperor who was truly as bloodthirsty and barbarian as Duke Nigel claimed, he would not possess this cold clarity.

“Furthermore, it is my fault for being so accustomed to the long war that I could not see reality as clearly as the Empress, who knows nothing.”

As the battles he had fought became too many to count, Cayenne had picked up his sword while momentarily letting go of his human heart. That very fact had blinded him.

“We forgot the essence of the matter. And we allowed a clever enemy to exploit that.”

There would be plenty of time for self-reproach later. Cayenne knew exactly what he had to do now.

“But it seems their luck has run out.”

As long as one has eyes to see the truth, an enemy’s tactics can be turned against them, and the final move to end a long war can be found. Perhaps he could finally leave the cruel battlefield he had believed was his destiny.

“Your Majesty, forgive me, but did the Empress have any ulterior motive behind her words?”

At Glenn’s question, Cayenne’s expression darkened.

“You think the Empress is manipulating me?”

“That is not what I mean. I only mean that this is a matter that must be handled with great caution. What if Lucan suggested this to drive a wedge between you and Duke Nigel?”

Cayenne let out an incredulous laugh and glared at Glenn.

“Let me be clear. The Empress is not a parrot for Lucan. You may monitor her as much as you wish. But I tell you on my honor, she had no such intention.”

When had Cayenne ever defended someone, let alone a woman, like this? Glenn bowed his head, unable to say more.

“I know your loyalty. But if this were a cunning plan from Lucan, they would have said something more plausible. At the very least, it would not have been a childlike question about whether barbarians and mercenaries keep increasing.”

“That is certainly true.”

Alicia had simply pierced through the essence of the matter by chance. As Cayenne said, if there had been a hidden agenda, she would have prepared more elaborate words.

“The Empress saw a truth that no one, not even I, could see.”

Cayenne had already forgotten the fact that she had dared to shout “Stop” at him.

“And she showed compassion for the people of Rubeo.”

The blood-scented, dusty battlefield was gradually fading in the warmth of the time spent at the Empress’s Palace.

“At the very least, she is a warm person.”

A faint smile appeared on Cayenne’s lips as he murmured those words. Glenn could not say anything more in the face of that smile. He still did not know what kind of person the Empress was, but it was certain that the warmth she provided was now staying with Cayenne.