The Empror's Trap

Inside the study, Pluvia glanced at the map Kenji had just handed over, hesitating for a moment.

"The intelligence from the Holy Church—can we trust it?" she asked, looking up.

"Your Majesty, you can confirm it with the envoy. In fact, the Western Empire's envoy has been here in Luminara City for days. According to him, the Western Empire could face danger at any moment, so he has to stay on standby here."

Honestly, the Western Empire's envoy in Luminara was extremely diligent. To make sure Camelot always had the latest updates, the envoy even used a griffin from his own country to send messages west—something incredibly valuable. Though the official notifications were always polite and understated, that was just protocol. In reality, the situation inside the Western Empire had become grave.

"I've looked into it. The money you requested is reasonable—no problem there. But I did ask Minister of the Treasury about our reserves and… gold…"

"Not much left, right?" Kenji interrupted, already all too familiar with this conversation.

Every time he asked for funding, Pluvia would remind him of the empire's tight finances, hoping for his understanding. Sometimes Kenji had to put in a major effort to convince her and prove his plans were feasible, sometimes he had to revise his ideas to require less funding or substitute with a cheaper alternative.

But after several rounds of this, Kenji sensed something wasn't quite right.

It was always "not enough money," and though Camelot's current finances were tight—between river canal construction and a military overhaul—it seemed the treasury still had a decent cushion. The latest project—the construction of Duke Anos's residence—was lavishly funded. If things were truly that tight, Pluvia never would have approved such spending.

"To be honest with you, Kenji, there's still quite a bit left in the treasury—enough for our current expenses, at least." Pluvia smiled faintly. "But if I agreed to every request, wouldn't people start treating the treasury like their personal money? I can't just give the green light to everything. Our treasury is built on the sweat of ordinary citizens, and this money must always be used for their good."

"So, does that mean Your Majesty is agreeing or refusing?" Kenji pressed, though he understood what she meant.

"I'll approve it—but on one condition."

"That's a bit much, Your Majesty," Kenji replied coolly. "All my suggestions are for Camelot, not personal gain. Every effort I'll make with this money is for Camelot's future, not for myself. And now you want something in return?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing that concerns your interests," Pluvia waved him off.

Despite being emperor, she wasn't a tyrant. Kenji's proposals had always been for Camelot's benefit, and he'd never asked for more than necessary.

"Your Majesty, I'm listening."

"It's simple," she said. "It's about the princess of the Sal Kingdom. According to etiquette, she'll arrive in Camelot soon, accompanied by her retinue. I want you to spend some time with her. You don't have to do anything special—just figure out where she stands. I want to know if she can be of use to Camelot."

"Oh, that? No problem. I'll find an opportunity to talk to her," Kenji said. If it was just about testing Uheya's attitude, that was easy.

"As for the funding, don't worry. The treasury might not be brimming, but it's just enough to support a mid-size war if needed. Since you truly want to solve problems for Camelot, I'll give you as much latitude as I can."

Pluvia signed several lines on a decree, stamped it with her seal, and handed it to Kenji. This was the signed approval for the funds from the treasury minister—the official green light.

Well, for all its faults, an autocratic monarchy like Camelot did have its upsides: convince the emperor, and you get your funding. Simple—almost fun.

"In that case, I'll take my leave," Kenji said, ready to step out of the study.

"Wait."

Pluvia suddenly called him back.

"Is there something else, Your Majesty?"

"There's a court official called Guillaume Guerin—the adviser. Have you met him?" Pluvia fixed her gaze on him.

Kenji was caught off guard by the question. What was this about all of a sudden?

"Uh, I've met him once… Why do you ask?" He didn't mention the earlier conflict between them; there was no need.

"I'm planning to promote Guerin. He'll start as a member of the council, and later I'll find something practical for him to work on."

Pluvia sounded casual, but Kenji was unconvinced—why tell him about this promotion?

"It's good for the empire to promote talent," he replied.

"No, I need to tell you. Guillaume Guerin is talented—I met him when he sat his civil exam. But he's so upright, he tends to be a bit unrealistic. He can argue theory well, but he lacks practical experience. That's why I want you to take him under your wing for a while. Let him get some real-world training."

"Your Majesty… Guerin is famously principled. He treats everyone the same. If he ends up under my command…"

Kenji was thinking: If he's with me, can he still call himself a reformer? Your Majesty, will you still dare use him then?

"If following you for a while is enough to make him blindly loyal, then maybe he's not the person I need," Pluvia mused, looking thoughtful. "Talent is never in short supply here, but I want people whose conviction cannot be shaken. Besides…" She looked at him. "They say in court that he is a 'clean stream.' In truth, that means he's loyal to me and to the empire. You're a clean stream too, aren't you?"

"Understood, Your Majesty," Kenji replied.

That's right, he was a loyalist too—his loyalty always belonged to his emperor… as long as his emperor didn't betray him.

….

Luminara City.

The Old Floren Trading House was the largest foreign merchant guild in all of Camelot, with countless merchants coming and going every day. It served as a major hub for Camelot's foreign trade. Its building was naturally one of the city's most unique, an eclectic blend of Eastern and Western styles—a mix that looked almost comical, yet somehow captured the spirit of openness and inclusiveness the Floren guild was known for.

Today, the trading hall was as busy as ever, filled with merchants from abroad and Camelot alike, discussing business deals. There was even a special chamber where daily prices for essential goods were publicly posted, helping traders negotiate and make quick decisions on investments.

But today, the guild received a visit from unexpected guests—a group of people clad in gray robes.