Episode 33: The Throne Room

When foreign enemies approach, the magical fortress wall, Magia Valm, stands as an impregnable barrier, but this is not wartime. The gates set at regular intervals along the wall are all flung wide open. The carriage I ride passes through one of these gates, entering the royal capital of the Kirchien Kingdom, Kircherion.

The royal capital is broadly divided into three areas.

The outer layer, the downtown area where laborers reside.

The middle layer, home to affluent merchants and knights.

And the inner layer, lined with the mansions of nobles.

The structure, where the higher one’s status, the closer they live to the center, serves a practical purpose. Namely… in the event that enemies invade the capital, the residents of the outer layer can be driven out through the gates.

While the impregnable magical fortress wall, Magia Valm, ensures protection from external invasion, there is one concern: during a prolonged siege, food supplies could run out. To prevent this, in the event of a siege, the most populous commoners are expelled from the capital and left to perish.

This way, the worry of food shortages is all but eliminated, allowing the city to hold out until the enemy retreats. A city that thrives on the ideology of royalty and nobles who, when push comes to shove, care only for their own survival—that is the royal capital, Kircherion.

“What a blatant setup.”

I gaze out at the city, a cold smirk playing on my lips.

The very structure of this city speaks to the essence of this nation, divided between those who rule and those who are ruled.

The carriage passes through the outer layer, then the middle layer, and finally reaches the inner layer. With each area we traverse, the city’s appearance transforms dramatically. From the chaotic bustle of the downtown to the serene streets of the middle layer, and finally to the majestic scenery of noble mansions.

At the very heart of the inner layer stands a towering white castle. This is the royal palace, Kirchien-Almas Castle, home to the king.

Its numerous spires pierce the sky with sharp elegance, and the outer walls, crafted from rare processed ore, gleam with a radiant whiteness. The sprawling garden before the castle is vast enough to host the kingdom’s military parades.

“…Not a bad stage.”

Peering at the castle through the carriage window, I mutter to myself. Evan turns to me with a puzzled expression.

“A stage, sir?”

“Yeah. One day, I’ll drag the king down from his throne. And as the stage for that moment—this place, it’s got a certain flair, don’t you think?”

◇

Guided by the knights guarding the castle, I enter with Evan. We are made to wait in a reception room. Some time later…

“Count Siegfried von Kreving, you are summoned to the throne room.”

A royal attendant enters the room, bowing respectfully.

“Very well, let’s go. …Evan.”

I approach the old gentleman, lowering my voice to a whisper.

“If things go south, run. As a vampire, you should be able to escape somehow.”

Evan says nothing in response. He simply gazes back at me, his face calm, offering a gentle smile.

I return a faint smile, then follow the attendant out of the reception room.

The spacious corridor’s walls are spotless, their colors vivid in the light streaming through the windows.

The sculptures placed casually about, the gemstones embedded in the stair railings… these are luxuries a commoner could never hope to touch in their lifetime.

A palace built upon the wealth amassed by the Kirchien Kingdom over three hundred years of rule.

I stand before the gate leading to its heart—the throne room.

A golden door, twice the height of a man, slowly swings open. Beyond it lies a majestic hall, lined with towering pillars.

I walk slowly down the center, over a deep crimson carpet, and stop five meters from the throne, dropping to one knee. Every movement is in accordance with protocol.

“Siegfried von Kreving. I have come in response to your summons.”

“Raise your face.”

A voice echoes from near the throne. By custom, raising one’s face at the first command is considered disrespectful. The proper etiquette is to hesitate, wait for a second “Raise your face,” and only then comply. However, as a noble, I am granted the ‘privilege’ of raising my face at the first command.

To be honest, it’s a utterly trivial rule. But it’s precisely these seemingly petty distinctions of class that solidify the rigid hierarchy of the Kirchien Kingdom.

Well… I’ll tear it all down eventually.

I slowly lift my gaze. Before me stand four men.

First, the imposing figure standing closest, exuding an air of authority. A large knight with reddish-brown hair, a sword at his waist. He must be well over forty, yet his chiseled physique is evident even through his knightly surcoat.

Zefard von Lugardis.

The commander of the Royal Knights, known as the ‘strongest in the kingdom.’

Slightly behind him stands a man in a vibrant blue robe adorned with golden embroidery, wearing glasses. His features could be called those of a handsome youth, but the condescending glint in his eyes dulls that impression.

Ignas-Zeo Grave.

The kingdom’s foremost court mage, the pinnacle of its magical practitioners.

Further back, standing just before the throne, is a middle-aged man with black hair, a single streak of white in his bangs.

Joachim von Kaltsart-Fernbrick.

The prime minister, the king’s right hand and a duke, counted among the ‘Five Great Nobles.’

And… beyond him, seated on the throne, a man gazes down at me as if appraising my worth.

His pale, almost icy hair and blue eyes gleam under the golden crown atop his head. Though still in his late twenties, he carries the dignity and composure of a king… along with a chilling ruthlessness.

This man is Luverios-Legria von Varis Kirchien.

The current king of the Kirchien Kingdom, rumored to have killed his two elder brothers and his father, the former king, to claim the throne.

The kingdom’s supreme authority speaks, a faint smile on his lips.

“It’s been a while. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you, Count Siegfried von Kreving.”