Lucian couldn't find a word to refute him.
After all, he himself had been the one to ask Harald if he would come along after receiving the report.
Harald had said he couldn't leave immediately because of problems with his domain, but once things stabilized, he'd been ready to follow at once.
If Thorkel, the second son, had become the heir and shown even a passable level of competence, he would have left the domain right away and come to Lucian.
And I would've wanted Harald to come rather than this fellow I haven't even seen the face of.
Thorkel had chosen what he believed was the best path to achieve his goal.
As a result, he'd obtained exactly what he wanted, so at the very least, he'd proven his ability to read the situation and move swiftly.
However, there was one crucial thing missing from Thorkel's account.
"But I have no intention of keeping you by my side."
"…Pardon?"
"Why are you so surprised? Did you think that just because you're Count Harald's son, I'd congratulate you on coming?"
"That isn't the case, but… are you perhaps testing my abilities?"
"No. I've seen enough of your abilities. What I don't like is your character."
At the unexpected words, Thorkel felt his head start to spin.
His character? Had he ever committed some kind of wrongdoing in front of Lucian?
When Thorkel failed to find an answer even after a long while, Lucian finally spoke again.
"Ascend the throne." What a ridiculous thing to say.
"Crafty little fox. You're the complete opposite of your stubborn father. You actually spouted that kind of nonsense in front of knights of the Imperial Family?"
"I was only—!"
"A hot-blooded young man drunk on the North's former glory, unable to rein in his passion. That's exactly how it looked. The timing was perfect, too."
Wasn't it the very moment when the White Palace—sealed for nearly a thousand years—was being opened?
It wouldn't have been strange at all for a young man who couldn't control his fervor to be swept up in emotion and cry out about past glory.
The other pilgrims, caught up in the atmosphere, readily chimed in as well, making it all the more convincing.
"Were you worried that the gift I received from the Imperial Family was too great? Afraid I might remain a loyal subject without restoring the North's glory?"
"You're excellent at testing the waters. No—perhaps I should say you lack patience. Seems you can't rest easy unless you hear a clear answer."
With every word Lucian spoke, Thorkel's complexion grew paler.
Despite the cold weather, everyone could plainly see his back growing damp with cold sweat.
"You must have wanted me to laugh it off and climb aboard your declaration. It would sour relations between the Imperial Family and me, and at the same time let you confirm my ambitions firsthand."
"Y-Your Majesty."
"Even if you couldn't answer properly and hemmed and hawed, there'd have been no harm. If a satisfactory answer didn't come from my mouth, the Imperial Family would have looked at me with suspicion."
"Your Majesty!"
Shraaaak—
As Thorkel hurriedly lifted his head, a bluish aura flashed past his eyes.
The searing heat that brushed his nose told him immediately what it was—solidified magic power.
"Silence. His lordship is speaking."
At the female knight's voice, arriving a beat too late, Thorkel swallowed dryly.
A chill settled in—cold enough to feel as though one more word would see his head cut off on the spot.
Lucian let out a soft snort as he looked down at Thorkel, who had slammed his forehead back against the floor.
"You really do have a sharp mind. The complete opposite of your stubborn father."
Lucian spoke with half sincerity, half mockery.
Thinking back on it now, no matter how Lucian had reacted then, Thorkel would have gained something in his own way.
If Lucian acknowledged his ambition, he would naturally drift away from the Imperial Family.
If he wavered, it would still widen the rift between them, if only slightly.
If he vehemently denied the throne and declared himself a loyal subject of the Empire, it would be disappointing—but even that was closer to choosing the lesser evil rather than the worst.
At the very least, the North wouldn't be ruled by the Empire's loyal attack dog.
The smile vanished from Lucian's coldly smiling lips.
"Impudent bastard."
"Not knowing your ruler's disposition, you thought you could tailor things to your own taste? You're the first one I've seen like this. Were you hoping to put a puppet out front and play at being the power behind the throne?"
"Absolutely not!"
Shk—
Felicia's sword flew toward Thorkel as he sprang up as if in a fit.
The blade grazed past his ear, blood spilling down at once, but Thorkel continued speaking without regard for the pain.
"How could I ever dream of something so vile! I might become a crippled warrior or an unqualified pretender, but never—not once—have I aspired to be a schemer lurking in the shadows!"
"And after concocting such a paltry plot, you still dare say that?"
"It's not just my fate! The fate of the entire North rests with Your Majesty! How could I not harbor the desire to see your capabilities!"
"Congratulations. After confirming my capabilities, you've lost my trust. I have no intention of keeping you by my side, so get out."
"Then please—use me as you see fit, and discard me afterward!"
"…What?"
Lucian stared at Thorkel with a dumbfounded expression.
In his previous life, he had seen more than enough bizarre behavior from knights who'd been refused appointment.
Those who knelt and waited for days on end, those who desperately tried to prove their usefulness, those who left saying they would return someday—countless varieties.
But someone who, rather than accept not being kept at his side, asked to be used as a disposable pawn instead? This was a first.
"Your Majesty found an answer I never even considered. That was when I realized it—I am someone who dares not measure you. You, Your Majesty, are truly the one I had been searching for."
A true king who would restore the North's former glory.
Bloodline, ability, and even timing—there wasn't a single thing lacking.
If someone like this wasn't fit to be king, then who possibly could be?
"I have no interest in personal advancement. I don't care about leaving my name in history, nor about restoring my family. The only thing I care about is the North reclaiming its former glory."
It didn't matter whether Lucian valued him or not.
What mattered was how useful he could be to Lucian's grand ambition.
Even if he was to be discarded in the end, shouldn't he be wrung dry first before being thrown away?
"So please—use me, and then discard me. Squeeze every last bit of value out of me if it will aid your great undertaking. And once everything has been extracted, even if Your Majesty were to desire my head, I would gladly offer it up!"
Lucian silently looked into Thorkel's eyes.
They were blazing, filled with desperate fervor.
He had seen eyes like that a few times in his previous life.
The eyes of one who has entrusted his dream to another.
The eyes of those who harbor a dream they can never achieve themselves, and are crushed by that realization.
And so they wander the world in search of their own savior—
someone who can fulfill, in their stead, the dream they themselves cannot.
Most of them end in tragedy.
When a dream must be achieved through another's power, that alone makes it difficult to realize.
No amount of material or emotional support ever made it easy.
On top of that, there were countless cases where the one entrusted with the dream turned out to have hidden their true nature—or met an untimely death by sheer bad luck.
More often than not, they devoted their lives to the lord they had chosen, only to fade away with nothing left but tears of blood.
Yet there was one thing they all shared, without exception.
They never betrayed.
Lucian didn't quite know why.
Perhaps they refused to admit that their choice had been foolish.
Or perhaps they couldn't bear the ugliness of switching masters on a whim.
Even as they poured out endless lamentations and regrets, they rejected every chance to turn their coats and chose death instead.
Right now, Thorkel was looking at Lucian with the very same eyes.
"Certainly."
Lucian spoke as he rubbed his chin, as though thinking it over.
"It would be a waste to dispose of someone who still has something left to squeeze out too early."
"Your Majesty!"
As Thorkel brightened, as if he'd found a ray of hope, Lucian raised a hand to stop him.
"But if all that squeezing yields is filthy runoff, the disappointment would be considerable. Makes one wonder if it's even worth the effort."
"I have many friends among the second and third sons of families allied with the House of Count Calyx. Quite a few of them are dissatisfied with their lords' decision to join hands with Count Calyx."
"…!"
At the completely unexpected remark, Lucian flinched.
If it was true, there would be no need for an all-out war with the allied houses of Count Calyx.
Even if they merely shook their families from within, it would deal the enemy a significant blow.
At Lucian's gaze—clearly asking if it was true—Thorkel reached into his clothes and pulled out a crumpled, well-folded sheet of paper.
"I require no compensation. Just make use of it."
***
Written on the paper was a list of the "friends" Thorkel had mentioned.
The families they belonged to, their individual grievances, even their usual ideological leanings.
If what was written here was true, it could be put to extremely effective use.
"That is, if it's true."
"I can stake my life on it."
"Your life has nothing to do with whether the matter succeeds."
"Then what must I do for you to believe me?"
Perhaps trying to regain the trust he had lost, Thorkel's expression was desperate.
Lucian flicked the paper lightly as he asked,
"Among the ones listed here, is there anyone who could immediately spark an internal rebellion and make it succeed? Without my assistance—purely by their own strength."
Thorkel's expression stiffened.
A rebellion, no matter the scale, was a matter of staking one's life.
Even with a high chance of success, it wasn't something to speak of lightly.
"…There is exactly one. A friend who's been thoroughly prepared for some time. Even so, the chances of success are only about fifty percent."
"Which house?"
"The third son of the House of Count Beor."
Not some insignificant nobody, but a family ranked toward the lower end among Calyx's major allies.
Even so, it was a house that carried a certain amount of influence among the northern lords.
If the head of that family could be replaced, dealing with Calyx would become far easier.
"I'm planning to hold a banquet soon and send invitations to the northern lords. By then, I'd like the head of the House of Beor to be someone favorably disposed toward me."
It was a demand to go and succeed in a rebellion immediately.
An unreasonable request, bordering on the impossible—but Thorkel nodded with a hardened expression.
"Understood. We'll meet again at the banquet. At that time, I'll greet you together with my friend."
With those words, Thorkel turned his back and left.
Blood was still flowing from his ear, but instead of stopping it, he carefully caught the dripping blood so as not to stain the floor.
After Thorkel disappeared, the retainers approached Lucian.
"My lord, is it really all right to let him go like that? He may look like that, but he's still Count Harald's heir. If he gets caught up in a rebellion and dies—"
"Even if it's a rebellion, as an outsider he'll stay in the rear where he can flee at any time. He won't die."
For outsiders to be revealed as having interfered in a family's internal affairs would be a disgrace even for the side that succeeded in the rebellion.
Unless they were an idiot who couldn't tell heaven from earth like Harald's eldest son, they'd keep Thorkel at arm's length while overturning the family.
Of course, he'd first have to succeed in persuading them to launch the rebellion at all.
"He handed over that information with such confidence and didn't say a single word about being unable to do it. Let's see how it turns out."
If he failed, he'd simply go down as an insolent fool who lacked the ability yet dared to test his lord.
If he succeeded, it would prove—just as Lucian had said—that there was still something left to squeeze out of him.
Lucian merely needed to wait calmly for the result.
"By the way, there's something I need to show you. Once the sun sets, come inside the White Palace. For now, this is more urgent than dealing with that fellow."
"Did you find it?!"
"You'll see for yourselves when you come inside later."
Leaving those meaningful words for the wide-eyed Hugo and Raymond, Lucian went back inside once more.
That night, a scream burst from the mouths of the two men when they laid eyes on the secret space beneath the throne.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://shinchan2.podia.com/