The silent audience chamber echoed with the sound of footsteps clacking against the dais before a deep and resonant voice rang out.
“Thank you for gathering. Raise your heads.”
I looked up, and my eyes met those of the king, who I hadn’t seen in a while. He was staring at me incredulously as if to say, “You really are here.” He could actually pretend like I’m not here if he wanted, but I guess he doesn’t know what my plans are.
Though my intentions hadn’t been communicated to the king, he clearly knew that this conference needed to go smoothly. The king looked around at the entire room as if to collect himself. I thought I was probably the only one who noticed his unusual demeanor, since I was pretty sure I was the sole person who’d made eye contact with him.
Oh, Prince Edwin is here too, off to the side. Perhaps he had come in with the king and had decided to keep out of the way.
The meeting progressed. Everyone was acutely aware of the irregularity that was my presence, but the central members didn’t seem terribly bothered. The proceedings seemed to go on just as usual... Admittedly, I didn’t actually know if it was as usual, but no one seemed particularly flustered as they reported on their various political matters. The only ones who appeared disconcerted were the radicals.
An approval of a matter; a question and response to a topic; a confirmation of documents that would be submitted at a later time for a petition, followed by a response to that petition; an opinion on an issue brought up at a previous conference during which dissensions had been put off to the following month... This perfectly normal, adult, bureaucratic gathering felt exceedingly corporate, and it continued interminably. Is this like that horrible practice in Japan of having pointless meetings that could have been emails instead?
With nothing but time on my hands, I continued ranking my favorite stew ingredients in my mind. Once I got to number seven hundred and three (pine cones), the king cleared his throat.
“And next to speak is...the Lord of Finance, Marquess Prynan.”
This is it. I looked to Count Archiam, and I could see his hands trembling with anxiety. If Marquess Prynan didn’t say anything, then the count would have to announce his intent to step down from his position himself. I held my breath as I waited, and Marquess Prynan stood up to address the assembly just as planned.
“Yes,” he said respectfully to the king. “I would like your permission to humbly present you with an idea.”
“You have my permission,” His Majesty responded.
“I am truly grateful for the opportunity. At this time I would like to bring up a matter that concerns the Lord of National Affairs, Count Archiam. Although he claims to be a crucial part of the protection of the kingdom, there doesn’t seem to be any concrete activity proving he is taking any meaningful action toward doing so. If he is not going to fulfill the duties of the role he was granted by the royal family, I think it would be only just to revoke a position that clearly does nothing but provide him with an ultimately meaningless title.”
“Your observation seems reasonable,” agreed the king. “Count Archiam, Lord of National Affairs. Do you have anything to say regarding this matter?”
In the blueprints drawn up by Marquess Prynan, I was at this point supposed to jump in and protect the count while the radicals frothed at the mouth. But unfortunately for the marquess, neither the count himself nor I were interested in the position any longer. The soon-to-be former Lord of National Affairs, now embracing his life as an architect and a father, trembled as he stood up, but the words he spoke were confident.
“I am Darren Archiam, head of the Archiam household. I must regretfully admit that I have not been adequately fulfilling the role of the Lord of National Affairs, which was so graciously given to me by the royal family. Therefore, I wish to step down from the position, effective today. I am deeply ashamed that I wasn’t able to carry out the duties of this role, and I will instead endeavor to put all of my efforts into managing my county from now on in order to help the Kingdom of Valschein become even more prosperous.”
The king’s eyes widened with surprise as the count’s words sank in. The corners of his mouth twitched up; it seemed like he couldn’t completely hide his happiness at this unexpected turn of events.
“I see,” he said. “Well then, we will remove Count Archiam from the position of the Lord of National Affairs starting today. I wish you well in managing your county... And may I say, you are looking well, Darren. I fondly recall the times back when you were my underclassman at the Academy.”
Despite the jovial atmosphere, the radicals around me didn’t hesitate to pointedly stare in my direction. I don’t care what you guys are expecting from me; I won’t say anything. Marquess Prynan turned around as well, glaring at me with a look that said, “You’ve really done it.” You got what you initially wanted, didn’t you?
I tilted my head in what I hoped was a cutesy manner, trying to communicate that I didn’t want him to get too upset. The anger on his face seemed to die down, all the emotion draining away before he turned back around to address the king.
“I have one more issue I’d like to report, Your Majesty.”
“I’ll allow it.”
“It is regarding Countess Dolkness,” the marquess continued smoothly. “She is harboring the missing daughter of the insurrectionist Hillrose, the Lady Eleanora.”
The king’s eyes widened theatrically as he turned my way. “Is this true, Countess Dolkness??”
Marquess Prynan was shooting me a nasty glare. Really? Now he’s just being spiteful.