Chapter 96: Full-Blown Court Riot
He was one of the oldest and most influential landowners in the empire and when he stepped aggressively into the center of the hall, the place went silent for a moment.
"Marquis, control your tongue in the presence of the throne," Prince Elian’s voice was strained.
"Control my tongue?!" The man roared, his deep voice echoing off the frost-covered pillars, "My youngest daughter is bedridden with a lethal lung chill! My estate is completely unlivable! And why? Because of your short-sighted greed, Your Highness!"
The hall erupted into a flurry of shocked, validating murmurs from the shivering ministers.
"You and the Empress enforced an unvetted ’Emergency Luxury Tax’ simply to satisfy a petty grudge against the Alvarez estate!" The man continued, pointing a trembling finger at Elian, "You blocked her cargo at the gates! You drove the only winter textile monopoly out of the capital overnight! This isn’t a tax, Your Highness, it is a fabric famine produced by your actions... You... You are letting high society freeze to death to patch up your own bruised pride!"
"Silence!" Elian slammed his hand down, his face twisting in embarrassment, "The crown’s decrees are absolute! Duchess Evelina chose to shut down her boutiques maliciously to blackmail this council—"
"Enough."
A low baritone word cut through the shouting.
The entire hall instantly fell into dead silence.
The Emperor, who had sat passively on his high throne throughout the entire morning, slowly leaned forward.
His eyes were devoid of any warmth as he looked directly at his son, and then at his wife.
"Is this true?" the Emperor asked, his voice calm but containing a hint of fury. As he spoke, he spared a glance to the shivering guard beside him and then looked at his son again, "An imperial administrative seal was used to bypass my oversight, solely to target a single duchess’s transit wagons?"
"Your Majesty, it was for the security of the treasury—" the Empress began, her voice gradually cracking. .
"Silence!" the Emperor repeated, not even granting her a glance this time.
He stood up, his heavy imperial robes dragging against the marble floor, "You abused your administrative authority to wage a petty war against the Duchess of the North, and in doing so, you have brought the aristocracy of my capital to the brink of a full-scale revolt."
He stepped down from the dais, stopping directly in front of Prince Elian.
"You are a fool, son," the old Emperor said coldly, his voice slicing through the shivering prince, "A real ruler uses strategy. Only a incapable prince uses clumsy brute force that starves his own court."
Turning to the High Chancellor, the Emperor issued his commands.
"By my imperial decree, the Empress is hereby immediately stripped of her administrative seal. She will remain in her private palace for the remainder of the season to reflect on her overreach.
Furthermore, Prince Elian, you will personally resolve the crisis you created before the sun sets today. If my court is still freezing tomorrow, your succession rights will be permanently re-evaluated."
Elian’s breath caught in his throat. His face went completely bloodless, the threat hitting him harder than the northern frost.
For a moment, he couldn’t feel the cold around him.
"Bring Duchess Evelina’s stock back to the market," the Emperor commanded, "By whatever means necessary."
An hour later, a grand royal convoy, led by a thoroughly humiliated and shivering imperial envoy, arrived outside the gates of the Capital guest estate.
Inside the warm, lavender-scented study, Evelina sat elegantly behind her desk, sipping a hot cup of spiced tea. She had beautiful linen cloak draped around her.
Ace sat on the opposite chair, a similar patterned linen cloak was draped on his shoulders.
There was a cup help in his own hand, while his eyes lingered on his wife. With every sip she took, he inadvertently gazed at her lips.
The moment was very delicate from Ace’s point of view.
From Evelina’s side... well, there was no moment.
A translucent notification hummed in the corner of her vision.
[DETECTING INPUT: Imperial Envoy has entered the perimeter.]
[Current Mood of Target ’Crown Prince’: Near-bankruptcy & total desperation.]
Followed by a knock, the door opened.
The envoy bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the velvet rug, his hands trembled as he held out an official royal scroll.
"Your... Your Grace, Duchess Evelina," the envoy stammered, "His Highness, Prince Elian, under the direct guidance of the Emperor, has officially suspended the Emergency Luxury Tax.
The crown is prepared to buy out your entire northern winter linen stock immediately to alleviate the capital’s... current discomfort. We will offer you the original market value, plus a twenty percent bonus for the inconvenience."
Evelina didn’t even look at the scroll.
She calmly set her teacup down, and let out an amused sigh.
"Original market value?" Evelina tilted her head, "When the Empress issued her decree, my capital inventory level was effectively reset to zero.
My current stock is safely stored in the deep North, and transporting it through this storm requires immense efforts, hazard pay for my drivers, and specialized maintenance."
She stood up, slowly smoothing down the folds of her deep green dress, completely unbothered by the royal status of the messenger.
"Go back to the palace and tell Prince Elian that the market has shifted," Evelina said as she blinked slowly, "The baseline markup for my winter linen is now exactly five hundred percent."
The envoy gasped, his eyes widening in pure horror, "F-Five hundred percent?! Your Grace, that would completely drain the liquid gold reserves of the royal treasury!"
Beside her, Ace rose to his feet and turned to the man, "You heard the Duchess," Ace rumbled, his fingers slowly stroking his broadsword, "Deliver the message. Or leave your head."
The envoy swallowed hard, stumbling backward in terror.
"And one more thing," Evelina added, her lips curving into a beautiful, smile, "I will not accept Prince Elian’s signature. If the crown wants my fabric, the Emperor himself must personally sign the official treasury gold release papers. Otherwise, enjoy the winter."
...
Thought of the day: When a woman rises, everyone should take the backseat and watch!
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