Running his hands disconcertedly through his neatly combed hair, the imperial attendant Cecil faced Hazel and said, “My sincerest apologies for the discourtesy, Miss Mayfield. I did not think the owner of this land would actually appear on the last day. The Ministry of Palace Internal Affairs would like to purchase this land from you. All the other properties around here have been sold at an average of 480 gold per lot. But if you’d like, we are willing to offer up to 600 gold.”

Hazel pressed her lips together and didn’t answer.

A small humble farm, a herb garden next to the kitchen, the soil beneath her feet, the sunshine, the wind... Already everything around her was engraved into her heart, glowing brilliantly. Already she was deeply in love with this little farm, and could never give it up—formidable though her opponent might be.

“I won’t sell, no matter how much you’re willing to pay. This is my farm,” Hazel said, plunging her weeding hoe deep into the ground.

Cecil hesitated for a moment. This petite young woman in her straw hat seemed like an enormous mountain he had to conquer. As a civil servant who’d learned everything from books and had no real-world experience to speak of, he felt this was a battle he could not win.

This was not his fight, he decided. And so, Cecil abruptly turned on the spot and ran away, with the servants hurrying after him.

Watching him kick up a cloud of dust, his silk uniform flapping behind him, Hazel suspected a storm was coming. But even if it were the mightiest of typhoons...

Hazel looked back down at the soil. I’m just going to do what I’ve got to do.

She pulled her hoe out and sat back down, then began to pluck the weeds again.

* * *

The Hall of Gold, Main Palace of the Vrahtania Empire.

Underneath the epic painting of the empire’s foundation myth displayed on the ceiling held up by brilliant golden columns, the air in the grand audience hall was grave and somber. The hall was, at a glance, divided into three sections.

Firstly, there was the vast number of bureaucrats sitting neatly in rows. Beyond them, on the platform, were the ministers of each department as well as the four Holy Guards—those people were also known as the White Forest, the emperor’s personal advisory committee. And sitting on the resplendent throne, exalted above all the others, was Iskandar, Emperor Ramstein the Ninth of the Vrahtania Empire. The empire’s only Great Knight, a title held by a man whom many considered to be the living embodiment of the god of war.

Sometimes, even the best of genes failed when they came together, but this was not the case for Iskandar. He was an exemplary combination of the former emperor’s powerful masculinity and the empress’s stunning beauty. On top of that, he had an upright and incorruptible character, nothing like his extravagant and self-centered father. Occasionally he came off as a bit old-fashioned, and many lived in fear of being reprimanded by him, but the new emperor’s personality was like a breath of fresh air in the palace.

Most of the court ladies were intensely infatuated with the young emperor, who’d just turned twenty-two, and only a few of the ladies were wise enough to give up early on, knowing that a courtship with the emperor would lead them straight to an impossibly stressful life.

Besides, the emperor’s dark red eyes never seemed directed at women. He only had eyes for reports, and nothing more. Alas, only under Ramstein the Ninth’s reign would the ladies ever feel envious of a report.

And, after perusing the report he currently held to the very last page, the emperor said, “Well done with the relief project in the Valhasher region.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Next. Where is the midway report on the new light-ray weapon we’re developing?”

A fairly old bureaucrat came forth and respectfully handed him yet another report. The atmosphere was so rigid that nobody even dared to breathe too loudly.

Just then, the emperor raised his head and focused on a figure in the distance. “Who’s there?”

Everyone followed his gaze and turned to the back of the hall, where Cecil, pale-faced as he was, stood by the door, wringing his hands. He had not known that the state council was still ongoing. Which was why he’d grasped one of the guards outside and cried “They’re still not done? But I must see the Minister of Palace Internal Affairs!”

Unfortunately for Cecil, the emperor had extremely sensitive hearing, and he’d caught all of the exchange, even beyond closed doors.

“What is it?” the emperor asked.

“Well, er...” Cecil was reminded yet again that nothing in this palace could get past His Majesty’s eyes and ears. The smartest thing to do was come clean at the start. And so, he apologetically stepped forward and confessed, “Your Majesty... As you know, to commemorate your victory in war, we’ve been expanding and rebuilding your chambers next to which is the Grand Garden. There is a particular lot in the middle of this garden, which was supposed to become public land if no measures were taken by today...”

“Do you mean Lot 79?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Well, the owner of the land has just shown up, and claimed that the land is going to be used as a farm.”

“A what?”

At the baffling bit of news, the aristocrats began to murmur among themselves, breaking the austerity of the hall.

“He should be honored that his property was selected to be a part of the palace!”

“Farming, in the middle of His Majesty’s garden? I’ve never heard of such madness!”

“It’s not madness—it’s vulgar and sneaky. A terrible trick called ‘holding out,’ commonly used by speculators!”

“What is that?”

“It’s refusing to sell a property that’s been included in a large-scale construction plan, like new roads or city renovations. The construction can’t proceed without it, so the owner is entitled to raise the price however much they want! And that’s how they make a profit.”

“My, my! I didn’t know such a thing existed. How shameless!”

The emperor gazed coldly at the loud aristocrats. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t done it yourselves,” he snapped. “The Minister of Finance is especially playing dumb—he must have the most experience out of everyone here.”

The minister’s face flushed red. “Your Majesty, I...”

“Taking advantage of a desperate situation to make a profit? That’s already a punishable offense, but doing it in the palace, of all places?”

The emperor’s expression hardened. Who would dare to run a farm in the middle of the palace? It was such an absurd concept to begin with. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening in real life. And just like everyone else, he believed it was just a pathetic excuse made by a speculator.

“A hold-out! I don’t know what it was like in the past, but under my rule, such evil practices will not be tolerated!” the emperor fumed. “What a fool. That man will not be compensated at all. As a punishment for his greed, he will be stripped of everything and chased out of his home to set an example!”

Cecil was flustered. “Er, Your Majesty, well... The owner is a woman. A young lady who doesn’t look like she’s even twenty yet.”

The emperor was greatly taken aback. The imperial scribe quickly asked, “Shall I remove your statement from the court records, Your Majesty?”

“No...” the emperor said after a pause. “I couldn’t do that.” He turned back to Cecil. “She’s really a young lady?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. And I’ve seen her documents—she’s an aristocrat.”

The ministers and bureaucrats were all appalled.

“The conman is an aristocratic lady of Vrahtania?”

Tongues clucked disapprovingly as the high nobles stared at Cecil in disbelief.

“What family is she from?” one aristocrat asked.

“Mayfield, sir.”

“I’ve never heard that name before.”

“She didn’t look much different from a commoner. I suspect she’s from a ruined household.”

“Even so! Does she have no shame? How could a noble lady of the empire do such a thing?”

“Stop! Stop,” the emperor said, holding up his hand. “This is exactly what that woman wants—arguing among ourselves! She wants to be at the center of attention. Well, I hereby declare a lingual prohibition order! From this moment on, nobody in this palace is allowed to acknowledge the existence of Lot 79 or that shameless speculator! As far as anyone here is concerned, that woman was never even born!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” everyone answered in unison.

The White Forest—the four Holy Guards who were the emperor’s personal advisory committee—watched this brief commotion in silence.

Laurendel Blenheim of the high-elf clan scowled contemptuously at the nobles; Louise Gallardo, a high-ranking member of the vampire clan—a Noble Circle—grinned as though she found everything amusing; Sigvald Sachsenspiegel of the war bear clan pursed his lips and remained expressionless as always; while Cayenne Runebard of the golden cait sith clan lost interest early on, casting his yellow feline eyes around the hall in boredom.

Sitting next to them was a man with his silver hair swept smartly back, his eyes sharp like knives behind his monocle. It was the Iron Minister Count Albert, the Minister of Palace Internal Affairs, the one responsible for everything that went on within the palace.

He glared at Cecil, looking thoroughly displeased. And as soon as the state council was over, he immediately rebuked the poor new attendant. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” he hissed.

“I’m sorry, sir, I have nothing to say. But that land owner is really something else, sir. I can’t say anything because of the prohibition order, but...”

“Quiet! I can’t believe you couldn’t even handle that one little thing!” The minister threw Cecil a nasty look, then went over to the emperor. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry this speculator is causing such trouble, and right next to the imperial chamber at that. As Minister of Palace Internal Affairs, I am deeply ashamed. I shall take responsibility and handle this right away.”

“Very well,” replied the emperor. “I suppose the newer ones are still a bit clumsy. I’m sure if you head over in person...”

Just then, a few noblewomen gestured at the minister behind the emperor’s back. That’s when the minister finally remembered. “Oh, Your Majesty, there’s something more important than this trivial matter.”

“And what is that?”

“The Flower Ball is approaching, sir. You haven’t decided on your partner yet...”

“Athena,” the emperor said promptly, choosing his cousin without hesitation. The minister felt like his stomach problems were coming back.

“Sir, please... Not this time. Please choose another lady instead of Lady Athena.”

“Of course not. Then people will think I’m interested.”

“What’s wrong with that, sir? Even if it isn’t true, what’s wrong with a little romance in this dreary palace? Couldn’t you just pretend to be interested in someone? There are plenty of noblewomen who want me to introduce their daughters or nieces to you, so unless you want me dead...”

The emperor scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Sir, a man should court a lady every once in a while. If you just showed a little attention to the beautiful ladies here...”

“There’s only one lady I should show interest in, and that’s the future empress of Vrahtania,” the emperor said flatly.

Count Albert felt a migraine coming. It wasn’t because he couldn’t understand—the problem was that he understood all too well. He had been working at this palace for thirty years now. And he had seen it all for himself, vividly so. He knew just how much the empress had suffered at the hands of her husband’s scheming mistresses. He remembered all the hardships the young crown prince had gone through. And he understood that the emperor’s strict attitude all came from a resolution never to be like his own father.

But this was a matter that involved the fate of the entire nation!

“Don’t be distracted and just focus on your job,” the emperor said before he stormed away, his cape billowing behind him.

Gone was the face that was mistaken as arrogant ever since young. It was a face that a fair number of maidens sighed over, a clean-cut and flawless face. Despite all the battles he’d fought, no one had ever managed to lay a finger on him.

The minister hated that about him, for some reason. He had devoted himself entirely to the emperor ever since the man was a baby crown prince wrapped in silk swaddles, but at this very moment, he wished he could go over and pinch those handsome cheeks and hurt the young man for once. Unless some sort of miracle happened to His Majesty…

The minister felt a migraine coming again. It was like all the symptoms the physician had warned him about were relapsing. Oh, how he craved that right now. If he could just have one sip, he’d want nothing more...

“Ugh...”

Furrowing his brow, he trudged forward with heavy footsteps. The other attendants whispered among themselves in hushed voices behind him.

“Uh oh.”

“It was a nice try, but that speculator lady is going to get crushed.”

“He won’t go easy on her just because she’s a woman. And you know just how much more savage he’s gotten ever since that day.”

Standing in the corridor of the palace as darkness slowly fell outside, the nobles watched the old minister prepare to head into battle.

“It’s going to be a bloodbath.”