Chapter 24: The Prime Minister

The Kingdom of Carmandy. The Duchy of Artus.

The Mansion of Artus, City of Pine.

The abode of the Prime Minister.

Nestled in the outer part of the capital of the kingdom of Carmandy was one of the richest duchies in Endramion. Unbeknownst to many, this duchy was once nothing but a poor province of Carmandy. It offered none and even suffered famines. Nevertheless, everything had changed after the current Duke, the prime minister of the kingdom of Carmandy took the helm from the old head.

In the middle of the city stood a mansion. All the nobles knew that the man living in this mansion was the second most powerful man in Carmandy.

The grandeur of the mansion only paled in comparison if compared to the royal castle. The moonlight showed the grandness of the mansion. The moonbeams reflected the beauty of shining magic stones embedded throughout the mansion.

Everyone who passed through the mansion would suddenly find their eyes fixed, staring at the beauty, marveling after seeing the show extravagance. Any nobles, merchants, or even commoners, there were only two emotions they could think of when gazing at the mansion. Either envy or fear.

All of a sudden, loud crackles of a horse broke through the silence of the night. The passing merchants were even forced to stop and take a look at what was happening.

Inside the city of Pine, there were only two types of individuals who could speed up through the roads. The direct messengers and the most trusted men of the prime minister. Not even the family of the prime minister or anyone in the direct line was allowed to gallop wildly inside the city.

"Give way! Give way! Open the gates! A message!" The man galloping on the horse shouted. Soon enough the gate of the grand mansion opened, allowing the messenger to pass through. Though not before undergoing an inspection from the mansion guards. Thus, the messenger could only leave his short sword and other weapons under the care of the gatekeepers.

After the inspection, a butler came out of the mansion ushering the man inside. He gave a silver token to the butler, smiling kindly. “Please lead me to the prime minister."

The messenger entered carrying a letter in his hand. His steps firm and fast - not wasting any time at all. Trained all his life to do this job, the man knew what to do next.

The thin messenger huffed as sweat dripped from his sharp brows. The tiredness was seen in the darkening flesh below his eyes. From the looks of it, he traveled nonstop on horseback from the capital. His chapped lips and dust-laden clothes showed how important the message he was carrying. He was in rush.

The butler led him straight to a large warm room. The mansion furniture was as grand as it was outside. A blue carpet made from the skin of a rare magic beast laid on the floor of the room. It originated from the far east. A rare and costly good. Not even the richest merchant of Carmandy had such a rare commodity in his hands. Perhaps, only the Free Trade Union and the Empire could have it.

The moment the messenger entered the room, he took off his cap. He bowed on his knees, a hand on his chest. "A message to the prime minister!"

A broad-shouldered man wearing a monocle on his left eye sat in the middle of the room. The man busied himself, writing non-stop on a piece of parchment. Focused and seemingly oblivious of the arrival of the messenger. He was serene as he could be.

It took at least five minutes of silence before the monocled man raised his head. After finishing what he was writing, he cast a soft gaze at the messenger. "What kind of message would make Mr. John huff like this?"

He lifted his hand and signaled the man to stand up.

Catching the meaning, the messenger stood up from the floor. His head still lowered respectfully as it should be. After all, not everyone could have an audience with the powerful prime minister. If only the archmage hadn’t arrived on time, he might have been already the king.

The broad-shouldered man looked like a warrior rather than an intellectual. His callous fingers show that he always trains with a sword. He stood up and gazed at the messenger. "Speak."

The messenger nodded, acknowledging the order. He took a deep breath and recited the short script he prepared in his mind.

"There's a big problem in the capital! Lord Prime Minister, please read the letter from the count." The messenger pulled out a letter from the hanging bag beside his waist. He then lifted the letter, directly putting it on the prime minister's table. Then, he retreated, lowering his head again.

"Why didn't you just send it through the magic lines. "The prime minister looked at the seal of the letter. After confirming it was the seal of the count, trying to find the silver letter knife under his table.

"Cough. The archmage is watching all the magic lines for some weird reason my Lord." The messenger said, his eyes still focus on the rare carpet.

The prime minister curiously glance at the messenger, “The reason?”

“According to the archmage, it was for maintenance.” The tired messenger explained.

“Interesting.” The bulky prime minister took out a silver letter knife. Then, he opened the letter, flipping the folded letter inside. Curiosity twinkling in his eyes, as his pupils swayed from left to right. "The archmage."

The letter had no words as if it was sent as a prank. Even so, the face of the prime minister showed no emotions. All as if it was normal. He took a basin of water, sprinkling a little to the paper.

Soon, a bunch of letters formed. It slowly showed the message hidden within.

...

Dear Lord Minister,

We are in trouble.

The magic mines will not be sold. It was the final decision of the royal princess. We were not even given a chance to air our side. The archmage is acting up like a tyrant, lacing her words with threats. One noble from our faction, Marquis Blake, even got his head whacked bloody by the archmage. Unfortunately, I had to inform you that Marquis Blake had already taken his trip to the underworld.

If this continues, we will have to break our promise. The Free Trade Union will not let it slide. For some unknown reason, a lot of changes are happening throughout the capital. Noble blood is being spilled. While commoners are taking the position of the dead nobles. With each passing day, a great number of crazy things had been swiftly occurring.

A lot of our spies in the royal faction are getting weeded out. A few had even gone straight to the royal dungeons. Some into the guillotine. The royal treasurer included. His case was messed up since the archmage greatly hated his guts for some unknown reason. We tried to reason out his case but failed under the threat of the archmage's staff.

It feels like I am being monitored. Once you've returned, I don't know if I'm still alive. The princess seemed to have wizened up under the tutelage of the archmage. A lot of noble blood from our factions are also starting to change sides. It won't be long before a few of our secrets will come to light.

She also refused to pay damages to Markandir for the death of the prince. She is also offering another scenario that there's foul play in the death of the king. A new investigation is ongoing under the archmage's lead. They're also checking in-depth about the Cloves’ rebellion, and the witch princess' death.

The princess is racketing up tensions on the border of Markandir for unknown reasons. Markandir is not reacting but there's a sign that the empire's moving in the shadows.

The price of grain, food, metal, and war goods is rising. As if a war is coming. Dear prime minister, I did not sign up for this. The royal coffers are getting filled again after the princess ordered the proper computation of the noble's taxes. A lot of nobles had been stripped of their ranks and lands.

The faith of our sponsors from the Free Trade Union is shaking.

There's also news that the princess is promoting her direct retainers to a higher position. She's also offering positions to anyone who has skills.

Don't belittle the princess. She had put our guard down and struck after you asked for a vacation. She's hiding her fangs waiting strike at the perfect time.

I'm finding her more troubling than the late king and queen combined.

We need your help. Please go to the capital before it's too late.

PS: Take care.

Yours truly,

Count Hobb

…

The prime minister closed his eyes, falling in deep thought. The sounds of silence drifted throughout the room. He waltzed towards the burning brazier. He threw the letter as if it was trash, allowing the burning embers to eat its prey. Watching the letter burn added a little satisfaction to the prime minister.

He walked back to his cozy chair, crossing his arms. Then, he cast a dull gaze to the messenger. "The Princess or the Archmage? Who do you think we should kill?"

…

The messenger bowed his head. He felt his heart freezing. The messenger was given the choice of who shall leave or die. How can a merely tired messenger make such a big decision?

"Come on, John. Think and give me your decision." The prime minister smiled before pulling a magic pen and a parchment. He looked like he found a new toy to play with.

The messenger lifted his head, sweat trickled on his forehead. He thought that if he gave the right answer. He would be able to rise on the ladder. It was a chance. "The princess, Lord Prime Minister!"

The prime minister continued to write. The sides of his lips rose a little. "Why do you think so, John?"

The parched tongue of the messenger swaggered. A bit of excitement showing in his stuttering words. "O-once the princess is dead you can take the throne, M-milord! All your troubles will be gone."

"I see." The Prime Minister's hand continued to waltz through the parchment. He didn't confirm whether the messenger was right or wrong, leaving the messenger hanging.

After a few more minutes, the prime minister’s writing hand stopped moving. The bulky prime minister opened his drawer. Then, he pulled out a gold coin pouch, throwing it to the messenger.

The messenger swiftly caught the pouch, weighing it in his hand. He took a short look, flashes of greed shone in his eyes. "Thank you milord for your generosity!"

The prime minister chortled, waving his hand in the air. He watched the greedy messenger as if he was watching a rather interesting show. "It's nothing."