Chapter 38 Banquet Part 3
By the fourth day of the festival, the grand ballroom was heavy with the smell of spilled wine, roasted meat, and strong perfume. The endless feasting and luxury were starting to wear everyone out. Lords sat weakly in their velvet chairs, their faces red and tired, while their heirs lost silver coins at the gambling tables nearby. I let them gamble because it is killing two birds with one stone, as their sense of serenity disappears while the corrupt ones enjoy gambling so much, and it lets me freely scheme my plan with their guard down. In their eyes, I am such a pathetic prince who even let his Royal Palace turn into a gambling den for nobles.
Having spent the first three days mentally tagging every noble in the room, I knew exactly who deserved to live and who needed to be erased. The challenge now was physical separation. I needed to pull the useful ten percent (as most of the nobility in the north, east, and south didn't survive the civil war, and the Court Nobles are only 0.2 percent, with 20 or so in number) out of the blast zone without alerting the parasitic ninety percent that a bomb was about to go off.
"Viscountess Linnea," I said, approaching the pragmatic administrator I had scanned on the second night. She was standing near the edge of the dance floor, looking rather bored by the excess.
"And Sir Kaelen. If you would be so kind as to accompany me. There is a matter of state I wish to discuss away from the noise," I said, as the corrupt eastern nobles gambling, including Marquis Orientis, did not even notice after my entering the room.
They exchanged a brief, surprised look before bowing and following me out of the ballroom.
I led them, along with a carefully selected handful of other competent lords and minor barons, away from the festivities and into the heavily fortified West Wing of the palace. The corridors here were guarded by none except my shadow Venator Order.
I brought them into a massive, secure conference room where Minister of Finance Bellica Lauranto and Chief Engineer Thorgar were already waiting. Spread across the large mahogany table were blueprints, financial ledgers, and pristine stacks of the new paper currency.
"Welcome, my lords and ladies," I said, dropping the facade of the naive, partying Prince.
"You are here because I have observed your estates, your ledgers, and your conduct. Unlike the majority of your peers in the ballroom, you possess actual utility."
Viscountess Linnea straightened her posture immediately, eyeing the strange paper notes on the table. "Utility, Your Highness?"
"The Leo Principality is undergoing a rapid, absolute industrial and economic modernization."
I gestured to Lauranto.
The Minister stepped forward. "His Highness has selected you for an exclusive, closed-door presentation. What you see before you is the foundation of the Royal Bank of Leo and the blueprints for our new 'Leo Cement' factories."
For the next two hours, Lauranto and Thorgar explained the future of the nation. I watched as the chosen nobles slowly began to understand. They were not just being shown something new. They were being trusted with the future of the kingdom's economy.
"I am offering exclusive, state-backed shares in these cement factories and the regional banking branches to the individuals in this room," I announced. "Furthermore, my intelligence suggests a... significant administrative vacuum is about to occur in the Eastern territories. I am enacting the Imperial Civil Service system. Those of you with high-level government skills will be appointed as Provisional Governors of the newly reorganized eastern sectors, with your authority backed directly by the Crown."
Sir Kaelen looked completely stunned. "Your Highness, the East is firmly under the control of Marquis Orientis. He would never allow—"
"You let me worry about the Marquis."
"Your only concern is whether you accept my offer. If you do, you will remain here in the West Wing for the next two days to draft the preliminary logistics with Minister Lauranto. Consider it a closed-door summit. If you reject it, your life and your entire house will disappear from this world entirely!"
Everybody in the room was shocked. I let them digest the information. They discussed it with each other for about 10 minutes, and Viscountess Linnea stepped forward first, bowing and kneeling down. "My skills are yours to command, Prince Regent."
One by one, the rest of the chosen few agreed. I moved them into the secure, highly guarded West Wing, including their sons and daughters who accompanied them, secretly separating them from the corrupted ones. They would survive the week.
Returning to the grand ballroom, I made a direct line for Marquis Orientis and his entourage.
"Marquis!" I greeted warmly, signaling a servant to bring over a fresh bottle of the oldest southern vintage.
"I must apologize for my brief absence. The burdens of state rarely rest, even during a festival."
"Think nothing of it, Your Highness."
Over the past days, I had fed him endless praise, nodding along to his terrible advice on tax reform and acting thoroughly impressed by his fabricated tales of eastern military strength.
"In fact,"
"I have been thinking deeply about our earlier conversations regarding... unity. The capital is strong, but the throne feels somewhat empty without a permanent, stabilizing presence."
I let my gaze drift deliberately toward his daughter, Octavia, who was standing nearby in a stunning dress of spun gold silk.
The Marquis's breath hitched. The greed radiating from him was so palpable it was almost suffocating.
"The East has always been a fertile ground for... lasting partnerships, Your Highness," Orientis said, barely containing his gleeful smirk. "My Octavia has spoken of nothing but your grace since we arrived."
"I shall reserve the first dance of the final night entirely for her," I promised, offering a deep, respectful bow before stepping away to mingle with the other doomed lords.
The loyalists were securely isolated in the West Wing, drowning in blueprints and ledgers.
The traitors were isolated in the main hall, drowning in wine and their own boundless arrogance.
Tomorrow was August 15th. My twentieth birthday.
(Continue.....)