128. Federico’s Dilemma

2024.02.05.

The day of the welcoming ceremony.

As if to welcome Empress Marilyn’s visit to her maternal home, the entrance of the party hall was lavishly decorated in southern style.

A giant shark’s head and a gaping pearl oyster greeted the invited guests with wide-open mouths.

Exotic objects befitting the reputation of a coastal city were displayed alongside unusual flowers.

There were even glass cases exhibiting marine creatures so grotesque that most noble ladies from the capital would have screamed at the sight.

Of course, Tasha Kimfri would have been sparkling with curiosity.

Despite the social season opening earlier than scheduled, the party hall was packed with guests eager to experience southern high society.

Particularly, people from the southern regions and surrounding areas—who otherwise would have had little chance to even glimpse a single strand of the exalted Empress’s hair—flocked in numbers far exceeding last year’s attendance.

Moreover, countless others had crossed mountains and rivers just for the chance to catch a glimpse of the rumored deposed crown prince.

Nobles who had never been allowed to attend events such as investiture ceremonies or royal debutante balls, as well as those who had lived in the capital but never had the opportunity to see him up close, were all present.

The lively and relaxed atmosphere of the party hall was markedly different from that of the capital’s social circle.

Though the scene was familiar to Empress Marilyn and Federico, who escorted her, Yu An and her party from the capital kept their eyes wide open, frantically looking around.

The nobles here dressed not according to capital fashion, but freely and individually, making it impossible to look away for even a moment.

Yu An, who had never traveled in her life, struggled desperately to keep herself grounded, her mind so overwhelmed that even the tension of possibly meeting Clade was momentarily swept away.

Tasha, too, pulled Eugene—who had been dragged along as her escort—closer, constantly whispering into his ear.

“And thus, under the gracious care of Her Majesty the Empress, mother of the great Euphris, we herald the beginning of the summer social season!”

As Empress Marilyn concluded her brief speech, Federico announced the start of the event, and instantly, streams of water shot up from the small fountains decorating the vast party hall.

Thunderous applause and cheers heightened the excitement.

Yu An’s group, still staring wide-eyed at the spectacle, continued to draw people’s attention.

“To see the Kimfri siblings here in the south—this is quite the occasion.”

“Indeed. They aren’t the kind of family to go sightseeing.”

“Beside them—is that the Second Prince, Noel? I remember seeing him when he was very young. He’s grown so much. Still seems quiet, though.”

“The one being escorted is…”

“The deposed crown princess.”

At the whispered mention of “deposed crown princess,” gazes shifted past the Empress and Federico, converging on a single figure.

A woman stood apart, like a single drop of ink fallen into the dazzling colors of the imperial entourage, her expression blank.

Despite her rigid posture and tightly closed lips, the shimmering chandelier light reflected in her large eyes gave the mysterious deposed crown princess an air more akin to an excited young noblewoman than the infamous seductress many had expected.

Those who had anticipated a more venomous, sensually striking woman couldn’t deny her beauty, yet somehow felt a little deflated.

“Exaggeration always follows rumors. If she accompanied the Empress on her southern tour, perhaps the Empress truly trusts her.”

“Oh, dear. Haven’t you heard? It’s said the Empress brought her along specifically to separate the First Prince, Bollonico, from the deposed crown princess.”

“No, I’ve heard she was brought here to keep her away from the Emperor’s sight. I’d bet on that. The Grand Duke Drietter presented a woman resembling the late Empress Eleonore to the Emperor—such a shameless man. I deeply understand why the Empress would be sensitive.”

“Still, regardless of the reason, if the deposed crown prince were to appear today, things would get interesting.”

Someone’s mention of the deposed crown prince Clade began to glide softly between the beautiful melodies.

Naturally, several nobles’ gazes turned toward Federico, whose expression bore none of the party’s cheerfulness.

The imperial guests were like thorns pricking the Marquis’s estate.

They were a constant reminder of the Companni family’s sins.

Especially since the world mistakenly believed the Companni Marquisate had attempted to assassinate Clade, the former crown prince, the people of the estate felt a mix of curiosity and unease toward Clade, who was now calmly touring their land.

After all, only by meeting the grown deposed crown prince face-to-face and speaking with him could they truly know how he viewed the south.

Federico’s golden eyes lowered slightly, avoiding the weight of the stares.

He had spent the last few days completely consumed by inviting vassals who had lost their titles and become border knights guarding the frontier, along with a handful of noble families nearly wiped out.

These were people who had been condemned for participating in the rebellion—individuals thoroughly excluded from social events until now.

Whether or not Clade appeared at this welcoming ceremony, Federico intended to meet his vassals, seek their cooperation, and directly ask what Clade desired.

But that likely wasn’t all Clade expected from Federico.

His loyal retainers, blindly devoted to him, would naturally follow Federico no matter what. But what of the other ruined noble families?

Those who had followed the late Marquis to the front lines to suppress the rebellion, only to be branded as rebels themselves and lose their patriarchs.

Those who had become heads of house at a young age, yet whose noble lineage was already severed.

Or those whose families had been wiped out, leaving only distant branches.

They now lived on, stripped of all honor, guarding seas teeming with pirates and tiny islands.

Of the two families who had managed to rescue their daughters through the deposed crown prince’s mercy, one had contacted Federico, offering help if there was a way. The heads of the other families, however, remained silent.

Would revealing the truth be enough to change their minds?

There was a vast difference between emotional support and the actual decision to provide tangible aid.

Weren’t these people already those who had lost everything, barely clinging to life?

Moreover, even if the deposed crown prince tried his best to prove his strength to the few remaining factions, was it even possible to gain fame or achieve merit without drawing Igor’s attention?

‘It’s a difficult path.’

Federico swallowed hard, ignoring the headache pressing against his temples.

‘And what should I tell my sister this time?’

Federico loved Empress Marilyn dearly as a sister, but he had long abandoned any ambition of using her position to restore his family’s status.

Perhaps when his father was alive, they had benefited from his sister becoming Empress, but what meaning did that hold now?

Furthermore, Harol Companni, the current head of the family, had handed the family seal to Bollonico without a trace of hesitation.

And in return, Bollonico had taken Harol Companni as his subordinate instead of Federico.

It was a clear declaration that Federico refused to bear the burden of the Companni Marquisate.

Even if a miracle occurred and Federico managed to gather all the scattered forces of the Companni Marquisate, unless he held the family seal as the legitimate head, the situation would remain unchanged—forever circling back.

Federico glanced at Empress Marilyn, who was watching the dance of young men and women.

The beautiful Marilyn’s eyes flickered with light and shadow, independent of the dancers’ movements.

She seemed lost in nostalgic memories of her childhood.

Perhaps Marilyn’s deepest wish, as she struggled within the imperial court, was for her son to inherit the throne.

She likely believed that was the only way to redeem the sins of the previous reign.

Under normal circumstances, that role could only belong to her eldest son, Bollonico.

Even if the Emperor continued to frustrate Marilyn by delaying the crown prince’s formal appointment, Bollonico was the only one in the empire who had properly undergone royal education and prepared for the throne.

Then what of the Companni Marquisate?

If Bollonico became Emperor, would he normalize his mother’s maternal family, or would he purge his uncle Federico to favor Harol Companni, his trusted subordinate?

Federico Companni clenched his sweating fists tightly and swallowed hard.

Even if Bollonico became Emperor, a counterbalancing force would still be absolutely necessary.

Once Emperor, he wouldn’t be free to manipulate the nobility as he pleased.

Each regional domain carried its own history, traditions, and accumulated merits from fighting enemies.

If the Emperor recklessly disrupted even one of the great noble houses that had protected Euphris, the surrounding nobles would no longer trust or follow him.

Just look at Emperor Igor today, whose early reign was marked by attempts to strengthen imperial authority based solely on his suppression of the rebellion.

The accumulated legacies of the great nobles, even without openly opposing the Emperor, occasionally pressured him and constrained his actions.

In the early years of his reign, whenever Igor tried to act unilaterally, relations with neighboring countries deteriorated, and the economy failed to progress.

Each domain possessed the experience and connections essential for diplomacy with neighboring states, forming a solid wall even Igor couldn’t easily breach.

Over the past ten years, the Emperor had realized that relying solely on his northern power base couldn’t solve everything—so he merely harassed lower-ranking nobles from troublesome regions.

Except, of course, for the southern forces who had been falsely accused of rebellion and annihilated on the same day.

The more he thought about it, the more unbearable the defeat felt.

The north was Emperor Igor’s stronghold.

The west, perpetually short on food, was a place where power inevitably clung to whoever provided sustenance.

The east, at least, had been both a vast granary and home to a strong private army—but after Drietter and Kimfri, the two powers dividing the east, Drietter had become the Northern Grand Duke and left, leaving the east half-crippled.

Within this delicate balance of power, who could the deposed crown prince bring in, and on what grounds?

‘If I want to know the answer, I must first be certain myself.’

As Federico’s troubled gaze swept across the hall,

a small incident erupted where Yu An and her party were standing.