My first experience of the world was the glare of something bright—a light so strong, it stirred a primal sort of terror within me.
Next came the smell of blood. I heard the cries of an infant, loud and pleading.
“@##! %@@%!!!!!”
Someone was screaming. Then, as if a bubble had popped, a mob of voices joined the din.
Through all the noise, only the infant’s cries sounded clear to my ears. No...rather than that, they seemed to be coming from within my body. Was I the one crying?
Silhouettes thronged in my dim field of vision. I’d never witnessed a childbirth before, but surely this was too many people?
I’d...never witnessed one?
Right. Because I’d ended my last life without ever marrying. At least, I didn’t remember tying the knot.
Last life...?
Oh. This was one of those reincarnation situations, wasn’t it?
The moment the notion struck me, the memories of my former life came rushing back. The sheer volume of information was so overwhelming that my consciousness began to fade, as if drowning in the deluge.
The period that came afterward was defined by an uncanny atmosphere. My newborn self grew quickly, as though someone had pressed the fast-forward button on my life. But that was only my distorted perception; my growth had not actually accelerated. It was simply that my brain’s limited processing ability made each thought take far longer to form.
During that fast-forwarded period, the blurry shapes in my vision began to form into distinct contours, and I began to comprehend some bare scraps of language.
I also began to grasp who I was supposed to be in this world.
—My mother changed daily. I say “mother,” but I supposed they were wet nurses. To have a different one every day, though? How luxurious. Chances seemed high that I was living in premodern conditions.
—The words uttered each time I was taken up into someone’s arms were likely my name, or an affectionate appellation. But there was always something all too polite to the tone. Perhaps instead of a name, it was a title of some status?
—All the people I saw had what I would call European casts to their features. Was I the same?
—My wet nurses wouldn’t have looked out of place several centuries in the past. Their apparel stood in stark contrast to the room, which seemed styled in a fashion far closer to sensibilities I would have found contemporary in my old life. But maybe my perspective was based too far forward and this room was a grand indulgence, a bleeding-edge design only attainable through the very best of the era’s craftsmanship and technology.
—I could sense...something in the air that had never been present in my previous life. It was faint, but I could tell that it suffused me, tethered me, and responded to some yet unmapped means within me to exert my will upon it. A wild thought occurred to me: Could it be...magic?
If it was, then the broad strokes of this new world were clear to me. It was a fantasy world, its civilization and culture akin to somewhere in Europe during its medieval period, at the earliest.
And as for me...
When the speed of my thoughts caught up to the flow of time and my neck was finally able to support the weight of my own head, I was placed on a throne and found myself looking down at a gathering of men, their heads bowed.
“Your Majesty. Your Lords have come to extend you their greetings for the New Year.”
—I was what you’d call a child emperor. From birth, no less.
And so I determined step one of my political agenda: bawling my eyes out with everything I had.
＊＊＊
In any working system, infants did not become emperors or kings. Having a literal child as head of state came with a bevy of drawbacks and few if any real advantages. And if, because of how the line of succession worked, a baby did become the monarch, they were usually assassinated.
Let me tell you a story. It’s about a boy called John I, of the Capetian dynasty of the Kingdom of France.
When his father, Louis X, died, his only child was a daughter named Joan. However, Queen Clémence was with child (and there was apparently some kind of issue with Joan inheriting the throne). As such, Louis’s younger brother Philip became regent while they awaited the birth of the rightful heir. When John—a boy!—was finally born, the throne was his the moment he popped out of the womb. It took less than a week for him to turn up dead, and Crown Prince Philip took over as Philip V.
Now, let’s look over to China. After the death of Emperor He, fourth emperor of the Later Han dynasty, his son Liu Long succeeded the title at barely a hundred days old. Given his age, his political affairs were managed by his consort kin—the relations of the empress dowager. He died before the year was over.
In any time and place where there is no capacity or basis for modern medicine, infant mortality rates, especially for children of nursing age, will always be high. That’s exactly why it’s so difficult to distinguish between death by illness and death by assassination. In simple terms? Pulling off a hit without anyone noticing is a whole lot easier.
As long as I was still this defenseless, I had good cause to fear for my life at every turn. And yet I was still breathing. Clearly the real political shot-callers found a living heir more useful—at least for the time being.
Right now, I was still allowed to draw breath—as a puppet.
From that day on, I lived in desperation. Whose puppet was I? Why was I emperor from the moment I was born? I needed answers.
But I couldn’t reveal my intelligence. A puppet had to be incompetent and feebleminded, or they would cause trouble for the puppet master. I couldn’t voice any questions or doubts. I analyzed what information I had, and piece by piece, I assembled the beginnings of a picture. The first thing I learned about was myself.
My name was Carmine de la Garde-Bundarte. Title: Emperor of the Bundarte Empire. Given that I had been made emperor as soon as I was born, things didn’t seem to be going well.
Two individuals held the reins in this empire: the Chancellor and the Minister of Ceremony. Both were Dukes of royal blood. Their houses formed the cores of the two factions currently vying for power. In short, if I died, the empire would probably split in two and break out into civil war.
Still, that alone felt like too weak a justification for leaving me alive, especially since both of the chief players in this power struggle had a fair claim to the throne. There had to be some other reason. If I happened to become an “inconvenience” without discovering why, it’d be curtains for me.
In plain terms, I was playing on hard mode. Some life this was. Had the old me done something to deserve this?
Whatever. I’ll pull through. Just watch me.