UTMISDTE Chapter 33

Thought for a couple of seconds

“Wouldn’t it be cleaner to just give them a formal declaration of war?”

Everett reacted as if I’d just told the world’s worst joke, all seriousness. His eyes—always burning hotter than normal—cooled by a good three degrees.

From his golden eyes I could almost hear: ‘Your sense of humor needs work.’ I flinched a bit.

‘I get that to these people it’d feel as disrespectful as rubbing tobacco into rice at an ancestor’s memorial table.’

After all, throwing an enemy’s crown into a furnace was an age-old way to humiliate a defeated king.

‘To tell a proud, stubborn people like those in Bellot to hand over their crown as compensation? That’s 100% the most insulting provocation you could offer.’

Yes, our Empire had won the long war, but victory isn’t only sweet glory.

‘We just turned defeat into a narrow victory—what good would it do to keep fighting?’

A cornered rat can give even a lion a rough time. I knew that. Just… hear me out.

‘It’s not a completely crazy idea.’

I opened my mouth a little defensively.

“But aside from wealth, all you can take from them is honor… or other intangible values, right?”

Everett chewed on my words for a few seconds, then nodded coolly in agreement.

“That’s true.”

Since his reaction wasn’t entirely negative, I inwardly sighed with relief.

“So the plan is: we take their crown instead of reparations, then later return it on some convenient pretext.”

I laid out my idea step by step.

“For example, at the coronation of the Crown Princess—who’s got Bellot’s court on her side—we could ‘gift’ the crown back in a show of goodwill.”

Great powers granting a crown to a small state under their thumb was also a long-standing political gesture.

‘If we’d discussed it in advance, Bellot might bristle but not revolt—they know they have no real choice.’

If that calculation didn’t add up, Bellot was doomed anyway.

Everett’s posture grew serious as he caught on.

“We should even plan our justification from the start—why we accept the crown instead of money.”

Everett’s eyes gleamed as he stroked his chin.

“Make it look like Bellot’s king is offering it up voluntarily for his people, then we ‘tweak’ it a bit and hand it back as a token of friendship.”

Bellot’s craftsmen weren’t refined, so their crown was rather rough. If done right, we’d look generous while scoring a political win.

‘It’ll knock a little pride off the Bellotians.’

As my offhand idea crystallized, I felt a surge of excitement.

“I like it.”

My eyes lit up, and Everett’s lips curved into a smile.

“It might be a tough pill for Bellot’s king to swallow, but it’s clever.”

His smile was wicked—almost delighted by the misfortune about to befall another nation’s king. I mirrored his grin; a foreign monarch’s blood pressure was none of my business.

“If they value something more than honor, they’ll accept it.”

“They will.”

Putting the idea into practice would be a hassle, but I gave Everett a satisfying smile. Then, as if to lock it in, he muttered,

“I’ll deal with this first thing when I return to the palace.”

But his words were swallowed by the distant murmur of voices passing just outside the antechamber.

---

Even though I’d secured a breakthrough for the stalled negotiations with Bellot, Edwin returned to the palace late that evening, having spent the fading daylight with Rina.

Work had piled up from his weekend outings, so he headed straight for his study, with Kyle trailing him like a persistent shadow.

From the palace gates to the study, Kyle hovered in Edwin’s peripheral vision, subtly reproaching him for ditching work for a date.

“Why?”

Finally unable to endure it, Edwin shot Kyle a displeased glare.

Kyle accepted the brusque tone with an armored smile.

“On your way back from meeting Miss Diaz?”

Today marked the last of Kyle’s four guaranteed invitations to the exhibition. He knew where Edwin had gone, but pressed anyway.

“That’s right.”

Edwin replied curtly, sitting down and reaching for paperwork—as if to say, “If you’re here to chat, don’t bother.”

Kyle set down an ink pot and quill with a grin and launched into serious reproach.

“The guards went pale when they couldn’t find Your Majesty and came looking for me.”

Edwin realized he’d slipped out alone because he’d lost track of time with Rina.

‘Did I really not tell anyone I was leaving?’

He glanced away, cowed by Kyle’s persistent tone. From the deeper furrow in Kyle’s brow, he guessed at the commotion caused by his unscheduled absence.

But if he apologized now, Kyle would lecture him all night.

“I go out every week, so it’s hardly unusual. The guards could have contacted you directly. You knew where I was.”

Edwin shrugged as casually as possible and opened the documents.

Kyle sighed aloud—either to be heard, or to let Edwin know how taxing it was.

Edwin’s brows narrowed at the gust of breath reaching his forehead, but he pressed on through the paperwork.

After a few moments, Kyle gave up and withdrew. Only then did Edwin look up.

“Arrange a meeting with the Crown Princess.”

Kyle’s voice sharpened, now back on business.

“Under what pretext?”

“Obviously, to renegotiate reparations.”

Answering Kyle’s question, Edwin explained Rina’s plan. Kyle’s reaction went from confusion to growing interest—just like someone watching Rina’s persuasion in action.

Keen to press on, Kyle eventually nodded in approval.

“So long as Bellot doesn’t rebel too much, it’s the best plan.”

Edwin beamed at the praise. As Kyle hurried out to consult his aides on the details before night fell, Edwin’s smile caught his eye, and Kyle smirked knowingly.

“Quite a mild strategy for Your Majesty.”

Kyle thought that if the Crown Princess pushed Edwin too far, he might spark another war. Though Kyle was testing the waters, Edwin simply admitted:

“That was her idea.”

He wanted to show off Rina’s brilliance. Just mentioning ‘Miss Diaz’ softened his skies, and Edwin’s expression eased.

‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

Finally, some genuine pride creased his face.

Kyle, playing the part of both friend and lord’s confidant, feigned disinterest and went along with Edwin’s praise.

“Your work since the Duke of Camelot’s incident has been impressive, Miss Diaz.”

“Do you think so?”

Edwin urged him on with a look. Caught off guard by the unexpected emotional labor, Kyle’s mouth twitched, but he pressed on, genuinely impressed by Rina’s talents.

“With a mind like hers, it’s a shame she’s stuck in a backwater post.”

Recalling her record—top of her class at the Imperial Academy in Administrative Studies, and top of every qualifying exam—Kyle knew her skill was real, even if court politics had kept her out of the limelight.

“If we had just one more talent like her in the Blue Falcon, I’d get an extra three hours of sleep a night.”

Kyle sighed about giving up his café to gain eight more hours of rest. Edwin, who’d been fielding this complaint since his return, replied as always:

“You can’t just hire anyone.”

To handle the Empire’s most sensitive secrets, one needed not only ability, but impeccable trustworthiness.

‘If I’d known someone like her existed…’

Kyle’s lips peeked into a grin behind Edwin’s back. Then, like a sudden flash, the name he’d just mentioned struck Edwin.

‘Actually, there’s no reason it couldn’t work…’

Kyle leaned in, voice quiet so no one else could hear.

“Your Majesty, if there’s someone you like, may I scout them?”

“Do so.”

With that casual blessing, Rina’s transfer was decided.