"Your Highness, what is the matter?"
Zion, who had been scratching the back of his head, lowered his hand.
"It suddenly itched. Is someone talking about me behind my back."
"Talking about Your Highness behind your back?"
"I have rather good instincts, you see."
Back when he was living as a walking bombardment horse and being called a devil by the Empire's bastards, it had been worse than this.
Winter, meanwhile, was worrying about what he would do if the prince badgered him to find the culprit.
Rooting out the people talking behind the back of the Empire's worst piece of trash... there were rather more than one or two candidates.
"At times like this it's liquor... kuh. They said one of these glasses costs a commoner's annual wage, and the feel of it against the lips alone is different."
To be so delighted by something he must have enjoyed as a matter of course all his life.
If there were exactly one human being who could not live without luxury, it would be the prince before him.
There would be at least several hundred people talking behind his back, so how was he to find the culprit.
Ding-ding.
The bell rang.
"Your Highness, the Imperial August has been delivered."
The voice of the attendant assigned to the hotel suite. Zion, who had been sprawled on the sofa, sprang up.
"The car's here, the car!"
When he dashed outside the hotel in one go, he saw a splendid foreign car.
A gaudy car that, true to its name, seemed to stand in for an emperor's majesty itself.
"Bwahahahaha."
While he laughed in delight, Winter's grumbling came through.
"The money for one of those would......"
The rest was too quiet to hear well.
"If the money runs short you can just go win more. What are you muttering about so pettily."
"There is much I would like to say, but setting all that aside, to give you only the conclusion, I cannot win it."
"What? Why?"
"Would there be a table that lets in a bastard who won ten million Luon in one go? I won a fortune without thinking about the consequences, so I haven't the face to go and beg them to overlook it."
Had he won only five million Luon as he first told Zion, there would at least have been room to latch back on somehow.
Ten million Luon in one night. However much it was a table where only VIPs gathered, that was a sum not easily let go even by them.
Had the prince stepped forward himself it might be otherwise, but Winter had been in the position of a proxy.
"Which is to say, you got greedy and cut off one source of money?"
"......"
Winter, out of things to say, quietly averted his gaze and stayed silent, and Zion grinned watching him.
'Caught three birds with one stone?'
Buying whatever he wanted and indulging in luxury to his heart's content.
Intercepting the money Winter had squirreled away and taming him.
And lastly, providing great help to the Liberation Army's finances.
Literally throwing one stone and catching three birds.
'Though I'm not sure whether I've actually caught the third bird or not.'
He drummed on the hood of the Imperial August, the trusty steed he would be pampering and riding from now on.
'I was captured and shut in a cell for a whole year. So the Liberation Army's circumstances seem to have changed somewhat from what I knew.'
The reason he thought so. The Liberation Army's reaction had differed somewhat from his expectations.
By now word that the Empire's worst piece of trash had turned up in Deber should have reached Arist's ears through Creina, and yet it was awfully quiet?
Well, all's well that ends well...... except it was a bit unnerving to leave it at that?
He'd have to prod them once after all.
'I have a mountain of things to do.'
It was already the first month since he had come to dwell in this body.
Thanks to moving busily in various ways he had crossed over to Deber safely, but it was literally only the beginning now.
Because the goal was to make Zion Riobelt into Deber's greatest powerholder, beyond the paltry calling card of a deposed prince and penniless Divine Race member.
'To get power in hand, you have to go where power gathers, right?'
Except there was a problem. Zion at present, lacking a prince's dignity, which is to say financial power, could not approach the places where the ruling class and upper class gathered.
The very first hurdle was fairly formidable.
Well, it wasn't a hurdle he had to clear himself, so it didn't matter.
"Winter. You cut off a source of money, so you'll have to arrange a new one? Look into a few rich bastards to squeeze money out of and present them before this prince. Ideally I'd like them to be members of the Seielia Social Club."
An order given as though it were nothing. But the content was outrageous.
'This is absurd. Anyone hearing it would mistake His Highness for the one out of the back alleys, not me, honestly.'
In truth it wasn't that great a misunderstanding.
Not the back alleys, but he was out of the streets.
"Your Highness. How would I know members of the Seielia Social Club."
The venue of socializing where even Deber's highest upper class gathered was precisely the Seielia Social Club.
It was also a club opened personally by the previous colonial governor-general, no less.
"Winter."
"Yes."
"Is that something this prince ought to know for you?"
"......"
"Even you think that isn't right, no? Off you go, quickly. I'll give you a day."
"Fu......"
A back-alley habit slipping out despite himself. Winter, checking Zion's mood, hurriedly continued.
"Furthermore, there is no time to be standing around! I shall go and return swiftly, Your Highness!"
Watching Winter flee, no, depart to carry out the order, Zion ended up laughing despite himself.
"What kind of 'furthermore' is that in front of a prince, honestly."
Well, it wasn't an expression that particularly grated on Zion Bliese.
That aside, he was alone for the first time in a while.
Which is to say, this.
"Now I can do some magic training."
There really was a lot to do.
Really.
***
"Creina. I think of you as a sister."
The mistress Creina had served was a person more beautiful than anyone.
Beautiful enough that Creina had wanted to offer up not only her body and heart but even her soul.
Enough that on that atrocious night she had wanted to die in her mistress's place.
'So did I. I dared to feel that way. Because when a mere maid presumed to show affection beyond her station, you smiled gently at me.'
The sole trace that person left behind. Crown Prince Zion Bliese.
It was the reason Creina could not carry out Arist's latest order with her whole heart.
Click.
An order document delivered through a secret route. When she pressed the seal at the center, a halo of light drew out one person's figure.
- Creina. It has already been more than ten years since I last saw your face. I am always simply grateful for your labors.
Arist's figure, aged further over ten years. Creina stroked the back of her hand and gazed at him blankly.
- Every officer of the Order has conferred. We shall shoot Ninth Prince Zion Riobelt dead without fail. However, not now; we shall make the optimal moment, the safest one that can produce the greatest effect, the day of the bastard's execution.
Zion Bliese.
The youngest Grand Mage in Deber's history.
A boy who did not turn away from the burden of fate pressing down on his shoulders and resolved to live not as a person but as a symbol.
A sovereign who grew up admirably and won the recognition of every member of the Liberation Army.
That person. Her young lord.
He was a son born of her heart.
It was the reason Creina could not sincerely obey Arist and the Order's decision.
"Arist. The Ninth Prince is that person's mortal enemy. My young lord is locked in the Empire's prison suffering horrific agony because of the Ninth Prince."
Had the Ninth Prince not been the Empire's worst piece of trash.
Had he not been in the position of being cast off even by the Imperial house and residing at a villa.
The catastrophe of her young lord setting out on the operation to assassinate the Ninth Prince and falling into a trap would never have occurred.
- The Ninth Prince is a being who inflicts harm upon the Empire. Which is why our Liberation Army believes we can reach our homeland's liberation more swiftly by using him. Creina, I pray your heart is the same.
"You know that it cannot be."
Arist is wise. The proof was that, unlike usual, he had worked magic on the order document to project his figure.
It was a measure to soothe her, knowing Creina would object.
Except....
She picked up a scented oil, poured a little, and worked it over the back of her hand.
She could feel it, a faint scar.
- Once again I thank you for your labors, Creina. Please endure just a little longer.
Nobles do not speak plainly.
Arist is of the direct line of House Reishal, counted among Deber's distinguished houses.
"Arist. You want me to keep the hateful Ninth Prince beside me and watch him instead of killing him."
How should she decide. Her heart had already tilted to one side.
It was at that very moment.
Jingle!
"Lady Creina. Good day. Do you remember me?"
Remember him indeed. The aide who attended the Ninth Prince.
Judging by his hair color, with high probability he would be a Deberian.
Which is to say, a traitor.
It was also the reason Creina had spat out insulting words about Winter the other day.
"Did the Ninth Prince send you."
At the tone one uses with a servant, Winter's eyebrow twitched.
"No."
"Then be off with you. The Madame de Gallery is not a place where lowborn creatures may come and go."
Creina had killed the husband of her sham marriage and seized the station of an Imperial baroness.
So she had every right to treat the likes of a traitor as a lowborn creature as much as she pleased.
"This lowborn creature dares to make one request."
A waist bent vertically. Yet a head held stiffly up.
His two eyes were shining, brightly.
At some point the motion of stroking the back of her hand had stopped dead.
"His Highness wishes to form close relations of mutual goodwill with several of the businessmen of the Seielia Social Club. My own capacity does not reach such connections, so I have presumed upon you and come to see you."
'So he was not a traitor who latched on merely for the Ninth Prince's station.'
To be precise, he was a fairly capable traitor.
The proof was that he had not come to Creina from the outset.
An order that could not succeed anyway; if he could not prove his own capacity and competence, he had spent the time to prove at least his toil and effort.
'To possess wit and yet seek to become the Empire's collaborator. I shall have to snap the bud along with the Ninth Prince.'
The timing was fortunate. Since it would take the form of granting the Ninth Prince's request, she could inflict harm without arousing suspicion.
"Convey this to His Highness. That by tomorrow I shall broker two bourgeois businessmen promising enough to have put their names on the club roster and secure him a meeting."
Having finished speaking, Creina studied Winter's expression for a moment.
"Thank you, Lady Creina."
Bourgeois businessmen. He had heard it clearly and there was no reaction. His expression was unchanged.
That man Winter appeared to know nothing about the hostility the new class called the bourgeoisie feels toward high station.
'Those who obtained power through their own ability loathe those who, like the Ninth Prince, have nothing but power by birth.'
And this was a Ninth Prince who had had all his assets confiscated and even been stripped of his princely rank; that said it all.
He would make fine prey for the bourgeoisie.
'And the Empire's worst piece of trash will be unable to endure even the slightest humiliation and will explode.'
A commotion would break out. Because of it the Liberation Army would reassess the Ninth Prince's dangerousness and change its decision.
Because the Liberation Army were precisely the people who put Deber's interests first.
'...And after that comes to pass, by my own hand.'
Creina smiled as she showed Winter out.
"Go safely. And convey my regards to His Highness, that I wish him a peaceful night."
'I shall gift you a night you will never forget, Ninth Prince.'
However, there was one thing Creina had overlooked.
"I hope Lady Creina has a peaceful night as well."
Winter turned and moved off at a quick pace.
Having dropped his poker face, with a hard scowl on it.
***
"What? Creina said she would introduce two businessmen?"
"Yes. An attendant came a short while ago and left a letter, and it seems she has even decided on the selections."
Reijo, the rice merchant who runs a farm large enough to be widely talked about in the surrounding area.
Gaigen, the manager of the first department store to open in Seiel.
Those were the particulars of the two businessmen Creina was introducing.
Zion could not help wearing a bewildered expression.
"Why?"
"Why, you ask? It was Your Highness's command, so she could hardly dare refuse."
No, that wasn't what he meant.
Why is Creina, the Liberation Army's spy, helping me, the Ninth Prince?
It wouldn't be strange for her to try to kill me on the spot.
In fact it was one of the reasons he had contacted Creina the moment he came into money.
Because he didn't want to be assassinated by his comrades.
'The root cause that made me, Zion Bliese, a prisoner of the Empire is me, Zion Riobelt.'
He had spent five million Luon on luxury partly to help the Liberation Army's finances and partly to avoid the wretched state of being hounded by assassination attempts and having no choice but to run to the Governor-General's Office and beg for his life.
Ssseu, but he hadn't expected a reaction like this.
'Judging by Creina's reaction, it means that on top of suspending the assassination, the Liberation Army has decided to go the route of helping me. Were they in far more dire straits over the past year than I thought?'
He didn't know. Well, all's well that ends well.
So this meant he'd bought everything he wanted to buy, his pockets were still thick, he'd been a great help to the Liberation Army's finances, and on top of that he could obtain the Liberation Army's help, even if indirectly?
"Not three birds with one stone but four."
"Pardon?"
"Talking to myself. More to the point, Winter. Think of a method for how best to squeeze money out of those two businessmen. You're out of the back alleys, so you're good at squeezing money, right?"
Winter let out a small sigh where Zion couldn't see.
"Your Highness. Before a method for squeezing money, there is one thing we must prepare first."
"Hm? What?"
"The businessmen will be hostile toward Your Highness. With high probability."
"What? They can dare be hostile toward this prince? I'm Divine Race? A prince?"
"You are a member of the Divine Race whose entire assets were confiscated by His Highness the Third Prince, one of the three most powerful men in the Empire, who then stripped you of your princely rank and, for the first time in the Empire's history, exiled you to outer territory."
What the, how does he know all that?
Had word spread that fast?
"It was in the newspaper."
"Ah."
"Do you know of the bourgeoisie? In these turbulent times, having seized monetary power and political power through their ability, their hostility toward the existing ruling class, who are incompetent and put forward nothing but station, is enormous."
Then Zion Riobelt would be perfect prey.
That explains it.
"Is Creina scheming to make trouble for us?"
"I do not know. In truth, there is no need for Your Highness to take an interest in such a trivial matter."
"Trivial, indeed. Squeezing money out of bastards who are hostile from the outset can't possibly be easy."
"Your Highness."
Winter thumped his chest, brimming with confidence.
"Just as you said, squeezing money is the one thing I am good at. Trust me and leave it to me. I have already worked out the entire strategy. Both men are in a situation where they need 'branding.'"
Branding? It was a word he was hearing for the first time.
"What's that? Is it a good thing?"
"It is a concept that appears in the new discipline called business administration, which the bourgeoisie revere. For the sake of the entertainment, may I give you the detailed explanation later? That way tomorrow will be more fun for you."