The day of the electoral vote for the prince-electors has dawned. Today marks the date when the next emperor’s throne is to be decided after Emperor Maximilian mysteriously died at a young age, leaving the position vacant for months. Tension hangs not only over the imperial palace but throughout LaHart.
Those who had secretly supported the Duke of Toskur found themselves in disarray just days before the vote due to his sudden disappearance.
Predicting who would ascend the throne meant risking one’s life. They had hoped to sacrifice everything for him to become the next emperor, but not showing up at such a crucial moment created a dilemma.
The arrest of Count Edward, a key figure within the Duke of Toskur’s supporters, intensified their worries.
He had gained entry into the royal family association through his marriage to the cousin sister of the previous emperor.
Though he was arrested for illegal trading, everyone knew he was punished for pretending to side with Duke Albrecht while secretly colluding with Duke Toskur.
Rodrigo, the captain known for some power and fame, was in no position to rely on the royal family association either.
Now, with a member of the royal family association ousted, those who sought to make Duke Toskur the emperor found themselves aboard a sinking ship.
Both the leader of their faction and the next key figure had either been captured or expelled.
Under these circumstances, the outcome of the vote was clear. Even if the voting did not take place, perhaps the conclusion was already preordained.
News spread in LaHart that the imperial search party had rummaged through the commercial establishments owned by Duke Toskur, gathering evidence for all illegal activities.
In such a situation, even if Duke Toskur were to appear at the voting site, his chances of winning were slim.
It would be fortunate if he were not arrested given the newly revealed charges added to numerous misdeeds he had previously been exempt from because of his royal status.
The belief that no one would dare to accuse a duke carrying the blood of the late emperor shattered completely when Duke Albrecht, the rightful heir of the imperial legacy, pointedly aimed at Duke Toskur.
Duke Albrecht resembled his father perfectly, having voluntarily retreated to the outskirts of the empire to solidify his hold on the throne by relinquishing all he could possess.
“Among the existing royal families, there is no one who can oppose him, who possesses the most excellent legitimacy.”
Foolish factions were just now realizing that up until now, they had the ability to act yet chose not to.
“I express my gratitude to the noble electors present here.”
The time had come. Although Franz had not yet appeared, the regent, Monica, confidently announced the start of the voting. Three electors were present for the vote.
Originally, there should have been four, but one of the electors, Duke of Schwaben, had passed away suddenly without an heir, so the vote would proceed with the remaining members.
“One of the two grand dukes named on the ballot has not yet arrived, but according to law and order, we will not delay and will proceed with the vote.”
So this is how it would end. Colonel Rodrigo, who was present to observe the vote, shut his eyes in despair.
Should he stand up and flee now, or should he convey words of support to His Grace, Grand Duke Albrecht…?
Amid the confusion, the voting began. After the regent’s greeting, the grand duke named on the ballot, Albrecht, made his appearance. It was a moment when his face shone more resolutely than ever.
“Is it appropriate to hastily start the vote when not all participants are present?”
An unexpected voice was heard. The venue for the vote was the largest banquet hall in the imperial palace, the Emerald Hall. As the unfamiliar yet familiar voice echoed through the marble hall, the crowd stirred.
“My apologies for the delay, but I have arrived.”
Pushing through the crowd was a large man with golden hair—Franz. His well-combed blonde hair shone brightly. For someone who hurried to avoid missing the vote, he looked quite tidy.
Unlike Karl, who was seated in conquests attire, Franz was fully armed. The silver armor tightly wrapped around his body reflected the sunlight streaming into the banquet hall.
“You have attended the sacred polling place in battle attire, Your Grace.”
Monica’s sharp voice immediately directed itself towards Franz. Showing up armed was a clear warning or display towards the opposition.
“After all, the Empire gained its current renown through conquest wars, so I thought armor would be more fitting for the throne.”
Despite everyone sending him fierce glances, he shows a smile.
Is that tranquility or just acting? Either way, it doesn’t matter. Karl looked at Franz with contained anger and disgust, but kept it hidden.
“While I was away from the palace, you turned my mansion into a complete wreck, Nephew.”
“The Imperial Investigation Team shows no mercy to criminals who have committed illegal acts.”
“Criminals who have committed illegal acts… Are you referring to me, Duke Albrecht?”
“You need confirmation to believe it, such a fine appearance is wasted on that head. Duke Toskurt.”
Politeness for politeness, rudeness for rudeness. Franz felt intense anger towards Karl, who immediately dropped the formalities.
But he had to hold back. Until the vote was over and his subordinates had captured all the royals here. Franz swallowed his anger and forced a smile, his trademark.
Franz returned to LaHart, leaving Celeste and Valerie behind in Septfera.
As planned, Valerie would be sacrificed by her mother’s black magic, and if the spell worked correctly, Karl would cough up blood and die on the spot.
Celeste’s insistence that a flawless young girl cannot be the sacrifice lingered in his mind, but he pushed it aside.
Even if the spell failed, Karl would suffer a considerable blow.
Of course, his mother Marina, who cast the spell, would face a major crisis as well, but Franz chose to ignore that.
Attacking and pushing back the fallen Karl would be a piece of cake.
In such a tense battle, a moment’s lapse could sway the outcome; as soon as Karl showed any weakness, his prepared mercenaries would rush in to surround the palace and capture the royal family.
After that, he would simply take his place on the throne without haste. Just imagining it made Franz feel as if the intense wounds and anger he had experienced in life were healing all at once.
“It seems the disrespectful nephew, who still cannot show courtesy to his uncle, is the one unfit for the throne.”
No matter how he attacked with words, he couldn’t elicit the desired reaction from Karl. Provoking him only resulted in the same indifferent, cold expression.
In childhood, that expression had driven him mad for days. Franz barely let any anger slip through his clenched fists.
Enough with the snark. Let’s have a vote, Monica. I didn’t come here for face time and refreshments.”
“I would have done so even if you hadn’t. It’s funny in my eyes that you’re so eager to extend courtesy to Archduke Albrecht, yet unable to extend proper courtesy to the Acting Emperor.”
Ouch. Franz’s jaw clamped shut. When Karl is overthrown and my men take control of this place, I will crush your mouth, Franz thought to himself.
He had already made the calculations in his head of who he would punish, and in what order, once he took control of the imperial court and ascended the throne.
It was time to return the insult and wrath to those who had scorned and laughed at his birth all his life. He has waited and endured his entire life for this moment.
At last, his chance for revenge. Franz’s heart began to beat wildly with excitement.
“We will hold a preemptive vote.”
The Minister of Imperial Administration, Saniter, called for the vote of the Prelates. As he called out their names, each of the Prelates stepped forward and stood.
“Finally, the Prelate, the Duke of Schwaben, is unfortunately unable to attend the vote due to an unfortunate accident, and I hereby declare that one of the four Prelate ballots will be left blank.”
The three Preliminaries accepted the golden handkerchiefs representing their voting rights from Saniter.
“Wait.”
It was Mrs. Pulcheria who halted the solemn start of the vote. She had been seated at the head of the table to observe the vote and slowly rose to her feet, her posture stiff.
“With the death of the Duke of Schwaben, his heir has inherited all the powers, rights, and duties of the office, all of which include the title of Prefect, and I hereby request that you fill the last vacant seat of Prefect.”
There was a stir in the hall. The Dukes of Schwaben had always been a noble family, and when a duke died childless, all of his powers and possessions were supposed to revert to the imperial family.
But how could the Duke of Schwaben have an heir? The murmurs of disbelief began to fill the room.
“We have found the heir in the Duke of Schwaben’s only daughter, Countess Louisette.”
The Duke of Schwaben’s only daughter was Countess Louisette? A gasp of astonishment erupted from the crowd.
“And I present to you his successor, the last of the preemptors.”
“Was the Duke of Schwaben’s maternal family the Countess Louisette? Gasps of astonishment erupted from the crowd.
“And now, I would like to introduce his successor, the last prince-elector.”
