Chapter 105. Two Prime Ministers
After a simple lunch, Federico did not delay any further.
He changed into plain clothes suited for outdoor activity, though beneath his outer robe he still wore light armor.
Bringing Count Bos and six elite Golden Lion Knight guards with him, he boarded his carriage and set out for the Royal Forest outside the capital.
The carriage traveled for a little over half an hour.
The relatively quiet surroundings outside the carriage gradually gave way to the din of voices, the sound of hoofbeats, and the faint strains of music.
Federico frowned slightly and raised a hand to lift the curtain of the carriage window.
Before him, the entrance to the Royal Forest had already been transformed beyond recognition.
All manner of family banners had been planted along both sides of the road and across the open spaces between the trees, fluttering in the wind in such a riot of colors that they were nearly dazzling.
The grounds had been arranged with every possible display of extravagance. Upon the long banquet tables draped in white cloth were piled whole roasted beasts and fowl.
There was a dazzling array of fruits and pastries, and silver wine jugs reflected the sunlight with a blinding brilliance.
Many nobles, ministers, their families, and attendants who had arrived early were already gathered in small groups here and there, chatting among themselves.
Laughter, conversation, and shouted calls were all mixed together, creating an atmosphere that was lively indeed, yet also carried a sense of gaudy excess and deliberate display.
The herald at the entrance had sharp eyes, and from far away he noticed the carriage adorned with the striking golden lion crest.
Everyone understood perfectly well that it could only belong to the current Prime Minister of the Kingdom.
The herald immediately drew a deep breath, filled his lungs, and shouted at the top of his voice,
“The Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Orlando, Duke of the Western Frontier, Guardian of the Western Frontier—Lord Federico La Roche has arrived—!!”
That sudden, thunderous announcement was like a bolt dropped into the noisy gathering.
Several nearby nobles who had been chatting merrily could not help covering their ears, their faces showing irritation.
The carriage came to a steady halt.
Federico stepped down expressionlessly, his calm gaze sweeping across the grounds, which had suddenly grown far quieter.
He tilted his head slightly and signaled to one of the guards beside him.
The guard understood at once. With an indifferent expression, he drew a finely minted gold coin from his robe and flicked it casually with his finger.
The coin traced a slight arc through the air and landed precisely in the hands of the herald, who had just finished shouting and was still catching his breath.
The herald froze for a moment, then his face instantly filled with flattered, fawning delight.
Clutching the coin tightly, he bowed repeatedly in Federico’s direction.
“Thank you for the reward, my lord! Thank you for the reward, Prime Minister!”
Only then did the surrounding nobles react.
No matter what they thought in their hearts, they all swiftly put on appropriate smiles and stepped forward one after another to greet Federico.
“Good day, Prime Minister!”
“Duke, what a rare sight.”
“My respects, Prime Minister...”
Greetings rose one after another, each courteous, yet tinged with an unmistakable distance and caution.
Outside of court meetings, Federico rarely interacted with these nobles of the Royal Domain.
He merely gave a slight nod to those around him in acknowledgment.
Without slowing his steps, he walked straight toward the largest tent in the center of the grounds, the most magnificent and luxuriously adorned of them all.
Countless gazes fixed upon his back, woven through with awe, scrutiny, jealousy, and even concealed hostility.
When he reached the entrance of the tent, the two guards in splendid court attire immediately bowed respectfully.
“Prime Minister.”
They then drew back the heavy tent flap for him of their own accord.
Federico stepped forward to enter, and Count Bos naturally followed behind him.
Seeing this, one of the guards instinctively stepped forward and raised a hand, intending to stop any attendants of uninvited ministers from entering.
“This lord—”
Yet before his hand had risen even halfway,
Count Bos seemed not to see the motion at all—or rather, he simply ignored the attempt entirely.
His stride did not slow in the slightest. His shoulder merely tilted forward as though by accident.
The guard instantly felt an overwhelming force crash into him. He let out a muffled grunt and staggered several steps backward to the side, nearly falling to the ground.
The other guard’s face changed immediately. He hurriedly apologized to Count Bos,
then quickly stepped forward to catch his companion and hissed in a low voice, “You blind fool!
That is Count Bos! One of the kingdom’s few titled knights!
A trusted minister at the Prime Minister’s side! You dared stop him? Have you lost your mind?”
The shoved guard rubbed his aching shoulder, his face filled with fear and grievance. “Y-you should have said so sooner. That hurt like hell...”
The space inside the tent was far wider than it had appeared from outside. Thick, soft carpets covered the floor, and the air was filled with the scent of some unknown incense.
Quite a number of people were already seated within, and every one of them was either among the most powerful nobles of the Royal Domain or an important minister of the cabinet.
The arrival of Federico and Count Bos immediately drew every eye in the tent, and the laughter and conversation that had filled it died away at once.
Federico’s gaze swept across the entire tent before finally settling on the seat of honor.
He and Count Bos stepped forward together and bowed slightly.
“Your Majesty.”
Seated on the cushioned couch at the place of honor was none other than the current King of the Kingdom of Orlando, Augustus Aurora.
He looked rather fuller-bodied than his actual age would suggest, with a ruddy complexion and a richly adorned hunting outfit.
When the King saw Federico, a trace of subtle emotion, difficult to discern, first flashed across his face out of long habit.
At the beginning, he had not been without dissatisfaction toward this Duke of the Western Frontier, who had forcefully entered the capital and taken the post of Prime Minister by relying on the status of being his grandson’s grandfather and on his formidable strength.
But because of the Queen’s accidental death, his daughter’s disappearance, and the pressure of the great armies of the Western Frontier and Northern Frontier,
he had been left with no choice but to compromise.
Yet he soon discovered that once Federico took over all the tedious affairs of state,
he himself gained an ease he had never known before, no longer having to trouble himself with maddening documents or endless quarrelsome meetings.
Every day, he only needed to hunt and enjoy himself, and in any case...
this Prime Minister would one day serve as his son’s firmest support.
Once that thought took hold, he relaxed completely and handed all state affairs over to him.
“Hahaha! Good! Our Prime Minister has arrived!” King Augustus laughed heartily, clearly in excellent spirits.
“Attend him! Bring a seat for our Prime Minister!”
One of the attendants hurriedly brought over a broad chair lined with cushions and carefully placed it below and to the right of the King’s seat of honor.
Federico walked forward with a calm expression and sat down in peace.
Count Bos, meanwhile, stood silently behind his chair, his gaze discreetly sweeping across those gathered in the tent.
“Hahaha! All of you here are the pillars of the kingdom.
Ordinarily, state affairs keep everyone busy. It is quite rare to gather you all together like this for a hunting feast.”
King Augustus smiled at the crowd and waved his hand.
“Today, everyone should cast aside those tiresome affairs of state and simply enjoy yourselves... ah, no—offer the most bountiful sacrifices to our gods and pray for their protection!”
The ministers and nobles in the tent all smiled and voiced their agreement.
“Indeed so! Your Majesty speaks truly!”
“We must make the most of today!”
“As Your Majesty commands!”
At a moment like this, naturally no one would choose to offend the King.
At that moment, Marquess Cons Montauban, seated near the front on the left side, spoke up with a smile, his voice ringing loud and clear.
“Your Majesty! For so rare and grand an occasion, it would be improper to go without fine wine worthy of it!
I have specially prepared for Your Majesty, and for all our esteemed colleagues here, a batch of aged wine from the Midsummer Isles.
Its flavor is rich and mellow, and its bouquet quite unique. I humbly ask that Your Majesty and all present do me the honor of sampling it!”
At these words, the King’s eyes lit up, and he burst into loud laughter.
“Hahaha!
Montauban, you old rascal, you have not changed at all! What are you all standing there for? Go and bring it at once!”
Not far from Marquess Cons, Marquess Memphis also laughed and chimed in, his tone carrying a hint of teasing.
“Haha, Your Majesty, you see? This old fellow is still as eager as ever, always rushing to present some treasure first.
He is not even the Prime Minister anymore. What must our Lord Federico think of that?
Is that not so, Prime Minister?” As he spoke, his gaze flicked toward Federico with a half-smile.
At once, the expressions of the ministers in the tent became somewhat strange.
Their eyes quietly passed between Cons, Federico, and the King.
Hearing this, Marquess Cons deliberately turned his head and looked at Federico with what seemed to be an apologetic smile.
“Hahaha... My apologies, Prime Minister. Although you have been in the capital for some time now,
your interactions with us nobles of the Royal Domain have indeed been few.
I... merely acted out of old habit for a moment. I hope you will not take offense.
How about this? I shall present this batch of fine wine to His Majesty in your name instead. What do you think?”
Federico’s face remained calm and still, as though he had not heard the slightest hidden meaning in those words. He spoke only in a cool, even tone.
“That will not be necessary, former Prime Minister. Lately, I have indeed been occupied dealing with the many neglected affairs of state left behind and awaiting urgent attention.
In truth, I carelessly neglected my exchanges with all of you. That was my failing.”
He paused slightly before continuing.
“Though the Western Frontier is poor and cannot compare with the rich produce of the Royal Domain, it does occasionally yield a few practical local products that are at least drinkable.
As it happens, I too prepared a batch of wine brought from my homeland.
I had originally intended to take this opportunity to invite His Majesty and all my colleagues to sample it.”
He turned his head and signaled to the man behind him.
“Bos.”
Count Bos immediately bowed, then turned and strode out of the tent, evidently going to fetch the wine.
King Augustus seemed not to notice the clash beneath the words in the slightest. Hearing there would be more good wine, he laughed even more happily.
“Good, good, good! Excellent!
Then today we are truly blessed—we shall be able to taste the flavor of the Western Frontier! Hahaha!”
The smile on Marquess Cons’s face stiffened for a brief instant, and the corner of his mouth twitched faintly.
Federico’s words had clearly been aimed at suggesting that his handling of state affairs during his own tenure as Prime Minister had been a complete mess,
that he had left behind countless problems, and that he knew only how to flatter without producing real achievements.
But at least the purpose had been achieved.
Their eyes met in the air for the briefest instant, then separated again at once, as though nothing whatsoever had happened.
And yet the atmosphere inside the tent, set against the King’s hearty laughter, became all the more subtle and taut.