Emperor's Alternate - Chapter 23
I saw a cat.
Meow.
It was a breed called the Russian Blue, bred by the imperial family of a distant empire. It had silver-gray fur and emerald eyes. I could see why the Empress Regent had chosen to keep this cat. No one is easier to read than someone whose desires are clear.
The cat was extravagant, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that its owner spared no expense. Adorning the jet-black garment draped over the cat were intricate embroideries and diamonds woven with splendid golden threads. Not just the silk clothing, even the cat’s bowl sparkled brilliantly, as if made entirely of gold.
“…Does the cat eat like that every time?”
“Miss Leyesha. It wouldn’t be appropriate to just call it a cat. Her Majesty, the Empress, granted it the title of Duchess. Hence, it should be referred to as Duchess de Trippé.”
“…”
I would prefer not to call a cat a Duchess, so I said nothing at all.
There was a queen of an ancient kingdom who, on her deathbed, bequeathed half of her estate to her cat. That was the only instance where an animal was granted a title for the sake of inheritance. The Empress Regent probably desired to embody the image of that queen.
The reason for my stiff expression was that the cat’s meal was excessively luxurious. A piece of fresh salmon sprinkled generously with gold dust. Along with strawberries, figs, and various fruits.
‘There was no need to sprinkle gold dust.’
Meow.
She meowed defiantly and wiped her face with a graceful paw. Of course, the cat was blameless.
Recalling the budget documents I had read, I said, “Be honest with me about the animals Her Majesty chooses to keep. I’m certain it’s not only…Duchesse de Trippé.”
“…”
It was inevitable that my voice wavered while pronouncing ‘Duchesse de Trippé’.
At my command, the maids exchanged glances, subtly gauging each other’s reactions. There were three maids assigned to a place so extravagant that it was hard to believe it was simply a room for a cat. Yet, according to the budget I had read, it was clearly listed as an expenditure under ‘Disaster Prevention Donations,’ totaling a whopping 50 billion zennen.
“…She said she would raise ten white elephants.”
“…”
White elephants were rare. They were valuable enough for the royal family to occasionally raise them as a display. But knowing how much an elephant eats in a day, I had a hard time keeping a straight face. Ten elephants gorging themselves? Considering the level of the cat’s meal, it seemed they spared no expense even on ingredients.
White elephants were symbols of luxury themselves. There was even a joke that if you had an unhappy vassal and wanted to bankrupt him, give him a white elephant. Just one elephant would cost him his entire fortune in upkeep.
“…I, that is…”
“No, there’s no need to say more. I think I understand.” I raised my hand at the maid who tried to speak but couldn’t.
Was this a manifestation of her inferiority complex regarding social status? The Empress had a tendency to do anything and everything that was considered royal. It wasn’t just pets. I’d already heard rumors that, despite having little knowledge about art, she had purchased several prestigious pieces at the highest prices. From jewelry to accessories, dresses to furniture—every item, even down to her undergarments, was of the finest quality. It was clear that the money was being drawn from the national treasury and used as ‘Disaster Prevention Donations.’
‘This is clearly excessive luxury and indulgence. I can’t believe such spending is happening within days of the Emperor’s ascension.’
I wasn’t unaware of the Empress Regent’s desires for wealth and power. I’d been the one to help the Sixth Prince ascend to the throne, after all. However, a sudden sense of unease crept in, making it difficult to continue observing the cat.
Of course, it was difficult to find fault in an adorable cat.
I’m not denying the significance of maintaining a dignified appearance. It’s necessary to uphold nobility and its symbols as part of the aristocracy. But beyond a certain point, spending doesn’t add much value to the Crown’s reputation. Moreover, losing public support is an insurmountable problem that renders long-term reign impossible.
My late mother, who perhaps the Empress envied most, held the high title of Grand Duchess, but she never tried to flaunt it excessively to the point of obsession. I bit the inside of my mouth as I made my way back to my room.
‘For Lucian… There was no other way.’
Even if given a hundred chances, I would still make the Sixth Prince the Emperor. Ultimately, through my efforts, Lucian didn’t lose his life. I didn’t lose all of my family…
Upon becoming Empress, the courtesan presented me with a disguised identity to allow me to be seen in public. My newly bestowed name was ‘Leyesha.’ The Empress introduced me to the royal court as a distant relative and appointed me as her Chief Maid, the highest-ranking among the palace’s maids. The Chief Maid, primarily involved in diplomatic and political affairs as an aide to the nobility, didn’t engage in the usual domestic chores but rather worked as an advisor and assistant to the royal family. Just to be on the safe side, the Empress changed my birthdate to summer. As can be guessed from the name ‘Winter,’ I was born in the winter, so it was to prevent any suspicion about my true identity. Since blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t uncommon, it was decided not to conceal them.
“Miss Leyesha.” As I entered the room, a maid greeted me as if waiting for my arrival. “Here is a gift from Her Majesty, the Empress.”
“…”
The jewelry box the white-gloved maid opened for me was filled with trinkets made of expensive gems. However, I didn’t immediately feel their importance. The ostentation felt overwhelming, having seen too much of it with the cat.
I walked to the table, searching for documents. I was looking for the “Political Personnel Reform Proposal.” Since it was the first task the Emperor had to tackle immediately after ascension, my attention was keenly focused on it. Nobles inadvertently assessed the Emperor’s political competence based on the reform proposal. It was as crucial as a debut in the social circles, reflecting the first impression of his political prowess.
Despite the Empress’s fervent call for reform, she showed little interest in these affairs, consumed by the joy of social elevation and behaving no differently than when they were still the Emperor’s mistress. I was aware that the current Emperor, once the Sixth Prince, indulged in pleasure. He was known for selectively choosing famous liquor and reveling in drinking sessions with jesters.
‘Teiles II is legally an adult, so there shouldn’t be a problem, but…’
There was a historical precedent where an Emperor under 21 nearly led the empire to ruin due to immaturity. Therefore, Herod III, the most esteemed as a young sovereign, was allowed to govern himself only after turning 22, and until then, the empire was to be managed by a regent for those under that age. Legally, one becomes an adult at 19, but this two-year extension was instated as a precaution.
Even if I didn’t want to know, I had to be aware of what my superiors were talking about and I knew the Emperor’s taste in women. In other words, those who were supposed to be fulfilling their duties were enjoying their privileges, while I was doing the work in secret.
“…It’s gone.”
