The Incompetent Emperor Who Changes the World from the Shadows: Iron, Gunpowder, and the Young Maidens of Favor - Chapter 15: Interrogation, Concealment, and Maneuvering with Political Rivals

Chapter 15: Interrogation, Concealment, and Maneuvering with Political Rivals

T/N: Btw, this may be late, but give me your thoughts in this kind of writing, of separating sentences to newlines instead of forcing them into one paragraph, specially if they aren’t really made to be a paragraph, but as separate sentences. All of this is actually based on the raw, the author intended this structuring, but if for most of you it’s hard to read, I can change it.

*

Ariel Finn shivers at the cold cobblestone’s chill seeping through her leather shoes.

It’s her first time stepping into the west wing of the imperial palace, the administrative building.

The corridor, with its high ceiling and stark white walls, is filled with the tense gazes of guards and clerks.

With each step, a prickling sense of being out of place stabs at her skin.

(Someone like me, being summoned here…)

Notice from the Chancellor’s Office: A report on business activities is requested as a beneficiary of the Imperial Support Fund.

That’s what the document stated.

But behind the overly formal summons, it’s clear—something else is at play.

“Lady Ariel Finn, this way.”

She’s led to a wooden-paneled reception room.

Waiting there is unmistakably “the most dangerous man in this country.”

“…A pleasure to meet you.

I am Andreas van Vogler, Imperial Chancellor.

Please, take a seat.”

His voice is calm and gentle.

But its sharpness is harder than iron, and cold.

Ariel cautiously sits and places a trembling hand on the offered teacup.

She can feel her own shaking.

“Relax.

This is just a routine check.

Lately, a very curious product has been circulating in the market.”

Vogler speaks with a smile.

“A liquid soap, I believe.

Usable in cold water, gentle on the hands, and lathers well.

I hear it’s funded by the ‘Imperial Fund.’

It struck me as odd.

Could such a venture proceed without His Majesty saying a word?”

His words make Ariel’s back stiffen.

(He’s… suspicious of His Majesty.)

But I—can’t let that be known.

This work is His Majesty’s command.

But I’ve been told not to say that.

“…I’m just doing the work assigned to me.

For sanitation improvement, I gather feedback from the field and manage distribution…”

“Hmm, I see.

Then, who ‘developed’ it?”

“…I’m sorry, but I’m not involved in that part.

My role is to ‘deliver it to the field.’”

Vogler falls silent for a moment, tilting his teacup.

His movements are elegant, his smile unwavering.

But his eyes alone aren’t smiling.

“An honest answer.

But there’s something that bothers me.

You were once a low-ranking palace worker.

Yet now, you’re boldly running a venture no one ordered you to.”

“…I was simply approached for this project by chance.”

“By whom?”

That single word pierces like a blade.

Ariel bites her lip hard.

I can’t answer.

But I can’t fool this man either—

“…I’m sorry.

I can’t say any more.”

Vogler’s lips twitch slightly.

It might be a smile, but his eyes remain cold.

“Very well.

I understand your stance.

But let me offer one piece of advice—you’re standing on dangerous ground.”

His words lodge deep in Ariel’s chest as she bows low.

“Take care on your way back.”

When she leaves the room, the air beyond the door feels like it belongs to another country.

※

It’s past noon.

The office window is wide open, letting in a breeze tinged with spring’s promise.

I’m cross-referencing ledgers and reports, checking the “initial sales of the detergent batch” against the “next material procurement budget.”

I should be focused on the documents.

But—my gaze drifts slightly off the page.

“…Come to think of it, it’s strange.

It’s past the time Ariel usually comes to report.”

She’s quite late for her scheduled time.

I’m starting to worry.

“You’re right.

Maybe she ran into some trouble?

Like being called in by someone?”

Sopina, perched on the windowsill, shows a rare serious expression.

Her words make me jolt.

“Gerda!”

I ring the Butlers’ Bell to summon the head maid, Gerda.

“Yes, what is it?”

She appears promptly.

“Show me today’s palace communication records.”

“What do you need those for?”

“Just bring them, now!”

I can’t hide my urgency, and my tone sharpens.

But she’s probably used to this by now.

I’ve been quiet lately, so this should be fine once in a while.

“Understood.”

Gerda returns shortly.

“As Your Majesty requested.”

With a slight hint of sarcasm, she hands me the record book.

I snatch it and scan the contents.

It lists today’s visitors and scheduled meetings.

…There it is.

Ariel Finn, 2:00 PM, Administrative Building Reception Room, Chancellor’s Office

(…So, he’s making his move.)

Vogler.

The de facto “ruler” of this country.

He only acts when he’s sniffed something out.

“Sorry about that.

I’m done.

You can go.”

I hand the record book back to Gerda, dismissing her curtly.

As usual, she bows with an “Understood” and leaves expressionlessly.

“Damn it!

He got me.

There’s no way the chancellor would meet a mere maid for no reason.

He’s after whoever’s behind her.”

In other words, me.

What if Ariel let something slip—

Sopina voices a worrying thought.

“She won’t.”

I answer immediately.

“She won’t betray what I entrusted to her.

…She had that kind of look in her eyes.

That’s the kind of person I chose.”

But Sopina counters.

But it’s Vogler we’re talking about.

They call him a man with a heart of iron.

“We’re not doing anything illegal.

Far from embezzling, I’m increasing the palace’s budget.

Even the chancellor can’t move carelessly.”

But…

“If it comes to it, I’ll protect her.”

I’m a little surprised at how naturally those words come out of my mouth.

Protect.

To keep someone, something, safe from harm.

To hold them gently, ensuring they aren’t damaged.

Not for politics or the military.

Under the name of emperor, I’ve decided to “protect” someone with my own will.

The first person is Ariel.

“…When she comes to report, I’ll welcome her warmly.

It’s not about questioning her—it’s about soothing her heart.”

Sopina narrows her eyes and smiles faintly.

…Such a kind thing to say.

She mutters teasingly.

“If that’s how it looks, good for me.”

I sit back in my chair and let out a deep breath.

The palace’s atmosphere is starting to shift.

The “detergent development” being tied to the “emperor” has set ripples in motion.

(But I won’t let it sink.

I won’t let it.)

The wind outside the window remains cold.