IWBNAM Chapter 7 (Part 2)

There were always a few who made dirty jokes in private, but in groups, they were careful with their words.

In general, most criticism fell on Kranaha. Many were uncomfortable that an Imperial Marshal caused such disgraceful commotion right after the Emperor’s death.

Aside from Kranaha’s own fleet, nearly everyone shared the same opinion. Most believed Azani had been forced into a great sacrifice in a volatile situation.

“Do you think Admiral Kranaha is sincere toward Marshal Azani?”

“I don’t know. He’d always reacted excessively before.”

“Will they continue… that kind of relationship?”

“We’ll have to watch and see.”

The noisy drinking gatherings continued late into Sunday night. It had been a chaotic week.

So much had happened, and someone laughed loudly at how the final twist was a homosexuality scandal of all things. Another shouted back that even His Majesty the Emperor could never have predicted this one. Life was unpredictable, they said, and because of that, it had meaning, and a wealthy man bought beers for the table. Despite the world being upside down, voices rose everywhere saying that those who lived should live on.

Amid the crying, laughing, and shouting, the date changed. And those who had spent the night in wild commotion suddenly realized that the despair and hopelessness that had weighed on them had noticeably lifted.

* * *

News of the incident was immediately delivered to the senior military ranks.

It was certain the two had engaged in sexual relations.

The servants of Kranaha’s estate did not gossip about their master’s private life. However, nearly a hundred soldiers had been stationed inside and outside the mansion for security. Reports stated that the two marshals finished their garden walk around nine-thirty and returned inside, and that the bedroom lights went off around two in the morning. Anyone reading this could guess what came to mind.

“Rumor will spread under the title ‘The Four Hours of Two Marshals,’ I’m sure.”

Grime’s adjutant spoke thoughtlessly, only to immediately shut his mouth under Grime’s glare. Grime leaned back in his chair with a pained expression and folded his arms. It was Sunday evening, but he was working overtime. He had been unable to go home since the previous day, monitoring Kranaha’s mansion.

He had a lot to say, but no idea how to say it.

To protect the Chancellor’s dignity, pretending not to care and saying nothing might be best. Yet he still wanted to scold that bastard Kranaha properly. That son of a bitch, that dogshit bastard. How could he act like this in a national emergency…?

“I should head home too.”

Hold it in. The criticism would have to wait.

Someone of his status could not openly speak his mind to someone of equal rank. He rose from his seat, deciding that someday, in a private moment, he would give Kranaha a quiet, sharp reprimand.

Marshal Zerodel, of course, also received the news.

“I see. So he finally…”

He had hoped desperately that it was some metaphorical phrasing. But it had been literal.

He had not been on bad terms with Admiral Kranaha, but this incident made him reevaluate the man’s character. He knew Kranaha to be brusque and aggressive, yet still polite and proper toward women. Was it simply that Marshal Azani was not a woman? Well, he wasn’t, but still… this was a headache.

“If the Chancellor accepted it, I have nothing to say. Just make sure to shut our subordinates up. I don’t want my officers making strange comments about him.”

Zerodel warned his officers, especially those of higher rank, to watch their words. He himself refrained from further comment.

Marshal Valois, who had been endlessly blaming himself in the infirmary, also heard the news. Since Friday, his aides had been bringing him troubling rumors, calling it information. The shock was so great he nearly considered returning to duty on the spot. But when he learned on Sunday afternoon that it had become a confirmed fact, he was at a loss for words.

“Is this my fault?”

Valois muttered to himself. His aides jumped in alarm, denying it and asking why he would think such a thing.

“No, it is my fault. Because I lay here powerless, drowning in guilt…”

“It has nothing to do with Your Excellency. Admiral Kranaha simply acted absurdly.”

“That’s not true. If I had firmly maintained my post, that friend Kranaha would never have dared such a mock rebellion. Even if his demand amounted to forcing a physical relationship.”

Azani had no choice. The senior military ranks had holes torn through them. Standing before the commander of a fleet of fifty thousand ships, saying “Nein” would have been extremely difficult, even if the demand was coercive and unreasonable.

Because I wasn’t in my right mind. Because I didn’t return.

Valois sank into the bed with a sigh. From deep within his mind, willpower slowly began to rise.

The senior generals also received the information. Each fell into their own thoughts. They knew Chancellor Azani had made a sacrifice. Whatever their earlier dislike for him might have been, none had the slightest intention of mocking him regarding this matter.

“Since His Majesty passed, the Empire has taken a strange turn.”

Some lamented, some gave bitter smiles, and some took a drink. The Sunday night, shared by all alike, at last drew to a close.

* * *

Azani the Chancellor’s day began at five-thirty in the morning.

Even without setting an alarm, his eyes opened at five-thirty. Once awake, he changed into workout clothes and headed to the exercise room inside his residence. As long as he lived as a soldier, physical training was essential.

He occasionally jogged outside, but most of the time he used the home gym, doing both aerobic and anaerobic exercises. He frequently followed the “one-hour weekly routine for administrative officers” recommended by the Ministry of Military Affairs. Incidentally, that program had been created by a certain distinguished and dignified high-ranking officer, who, during his time as Chief of Staff, gathered expert advice to craft an optimal training schedule. It was designed so even civilians could follow it without issue.

From time to time, the head of security or lower-ranking guards checked his training. On days when he exercised outside his home, several guards watched nearby, helping correct his posture or assisting with stretching.

By the time he finished exercising and showering, it was around seven. He ate breakfast at almost exactly the same time every day.

He used to eat only one egg dish, a salad, and a piece of bread. But a few months ago, he switched to an East Asian-style breakfast. It was a simple meal of multigrain rice, white rice, or a little scorched rice; a light broth-based soup; one main dish of meat or fish; seasoned vegetables; and kimchi.

Sometimes he ate alone, sometimes with his close aides. Subordinates who arrived very early at his home were provided breakfast, and often they didn’t just eat separately, he shared the table with them, conversing while they ate.

Afterward, he went upstairs to prepare for work. While he changed clothes, his subordinates skimmed through major newspapers and the day’s current-affairs magazines, selecting important articles.

In the study, he quickly read the recommended articles and received a brief summary. Then, at eight o’clock, he boarded his official car. As his aides explained the day’s schedule, the car sped toward the Imperial Palace. The arrival time was never fixed because the route changed unpredictably for security reasons. Sometimes, instead of a car, he used a helicopter.

Upon arriving at his office in the palace, he began his official duties with a cup of morning coffee. He handled paperwork while simultaneously preparing for meetings. Having time alone in the office was nearly impossible. As the final decision-maker, he had countless documents to approve and a continuous stream of people seeking appointments.

Before he knew it, lunchtime arrived. But enjoying a relaxed lunch alone was an impossible luxury. His aides selected from among the visitors those he absolutely needed to meet, and scheduled lunch accordingly.

Every moment was part of work. The afternoon had its duties, tea time had its duties. Leaving work on time? If someone asked one of the Chancellor’s staff about going home at the official hour, they would answer like this: “On-time departure? What’s that? Is it something you can eat? (laughs)”

Dinner was also treated as an official function. Meetings with even more important figures than the lunch guests were lined up. Only after all that could he finally “leave work.”

By the time he returned home, it was nearly ten.

Even then, there was no time to relax. After showering, he went straight to his study to consider and review national affairs. Then he headed to the bedroom to prepare for the next day. His average sleep time barely exceeded five hours.

For extremely exhausting moments, he had installed a sleep capsule inside his home. It was a medical device that quickly relieved physical fatigue once he stepped inside. But his aides nagged him so much, telling him not to rely on the capsule and to sleep properly in a real bed, that he didn’t use it often.

‘I have to survive another week somehow.’

On Monday afternoon, he miraculously got about five minutes to breathe. Nael decided to rest in the private break room connected to his office. Five minutes was precious. It felt like he could live again.

But even in those few moments when he tried to close his eyes and just breathe, all kinds of thoughts crowded his head. He wanted to empty his mind and rest completely, but there was simply too much to think about.

Was the most pressing issue his relationship with Kranaha?

He had heard that last night, bars, cafés, and plazas across the empire had been extremely rowdy. No one told him the specifics, but he could guess what had been said. He only nodded with an indifferent expression. He had long since given up trying to contain rumors.

‘The four hours of the unnamed Chancellor and the unnamed Admiral.’

Of course, no fool dared to speak the subject openly. Even his aides only referred to it indirectly. Fortunately, sensible people were keeping quiet, so perhaps things would pass like this. There was even a silver lining. The embarrassing scandal distracted people enough that their grief was diluted. Even while they were drowning in pessimism, attention naturally shifted toward this. Humans were like that.

‘So what happens now?’

Before those who were too nervous to ask directly, Nael simply behaved calmly. There was nothing to explain and nothing to perform dramatically. He only needed to live peacefully with his younger boyfriend as things were. It was just a relationship, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t something he had wanted from the start, those of a certain rank had always dated and married strategically throughout history. It wasn’t something worth lamenting now.

Regardless, he felt the week was off to a decent start.

The stock market, which had been suffering through a historic bloodbath-of-a-discount, was slowly reducing its losses, and public safety had stabilized. People were quickly accepting reality and preparing for a new future.

Everyone knew that future would not be the brilliant golden age they once dreamed of under Sirius I. No one would witness the live conquest of the Union or the founding of the largest unified empire in human history.

There would be no earthshaking revolution in life. But maintaining the present state was possible. And perhaps that was enough.

Nael ran both hands up his face and stood. At the afternoon Marshals’ Meeting, he planned to lightly discuss setting the Empire’s long-term relationship with the Union. Naturally, his freshly acquired boyfriend would be attending as well. He idly hoped his coworkers wouldn’t frown too much at an office romance.

Antigonos cared nothing for how others looked at him. He had finally obtained the person he wanted. The opinions of others meant nothing in that process.

No one dared joke with him due to his status. Colleagues who normally got along well didn’t call asking what had happened, and even his closest aides only showed awkward expressions, they didn’t dare speak recklessly.

Of course, he knew what kind of conversations would happen when he wasn’t present. But he couldn’t police private chatter. He resolved to endure a certain amount of criticism. However, if he ever saw mockery directed at his lover in front of him, he would never stay silent.

When he arrived at the palace for the Marshals’ Meeting and stepped out of the car, he immediately felt people’s attention fix on him. Antigonos moved calmly alongside his attendants, unbothered.

Several clerks inside the palace were carrying documents when they spotted him and quickly moved aside. Their cautious, curious eyes clung to Antigonos’s movements. When one of the junior attendants glared back at them, they panicked, looked away, and hurried off.

Similar things happened multiple times. As the attendants grew increasingly tense, Antigonos spoke in a deep, heavy voice.

“Leave them. They’ll get used to it soon.”

“Yes? Ah, yes, understood.”

Would “getting used to it” mean maintaining this relationship for a long time? Those who heard Antigonos’s remark tried hard to control their expressions. He was a respected superior, but incredibly difficult to understand. It didn’t seem like he approached Chancellor Azani out of revenge. Then was it… love? Love? The word didn’t suit him at all. And who knew how long Azani would tolerate him…

Regardless of their troubled thoughts, Antigonos entered the meeting room and sat down. Today, he was the first to arrive. After a short wait, the door opened and Grime and Zerodel walked in together.

“You’re here early.”

“You arrived ahead of us.”

Antigonos responded with a polite nod. The two marshals also took their seats. An awkward silence settled between them. They all felt things were no longer the same as before. When His Majesty had been alive, they would greet each other comfortably and chat when they arrived early. And the main topic had always been gossip about a certain someone. Badmouthing him behind his back had been such a delight. Especially because a certain admiral had always taken the lead, they remembered it as if it were yesterday.

“You look refreshed.”

Unable to endure the silence, Grime finally spoke, in a polite tone but with an edge.

“Ah. I had a good time over the weekend.”

Antigonos replied in the same polite manner. Silence returned.

“Admiral Kranaha.”

“Speak, Minister of War.”

Antigonos quietly looked at the Minister of War. Zerodel glanced back and forth between them, sensing the tension.

“He is my classmate.”

“I know. I’m four years younger.”

“Admiral Kranaha.”

“Four years younger. Doesn’t that sound wonderfully youthful?”

Antigonos said it half-jokingly, half not. Grime and Zerodel stared at him with incredulous expressions before shaking their heads.

“Chancellor Nael de Azani is entering.”

A guard stepped inside and announced Azani’s arrival. All three turned their heads toward the door.

“I tried to arrive on time, but you were all already here.”

Nael, unaware of what the three marshals had been discussing before he entered, sat calmly.

“It’s fine if you’re a little late. We all know you’re the busiest among us.”

Grime said. Nael briefly bowed his head to each of the three in gratitude. Grime and Zerodel exchanged another glance when they saw how demurely the same admiral, who had been bragging about his youthful appeal moments ago, greeted Azani. It was a sight they wished they hadn’t seen.

“Before we start, let’s order drinks. Coffee for everyone?”

Nael snapped his fingers to call the secretary waiting behind them.

“I’ll have rooibos tea.”

“Yes, sir.”

As they listened quietly, Antigonos suddenly asked why.

“Why rooibos tea out of nowhere?”

“I drank too much coffee today. I need a warm, caffeine-free tea.”

His voice sounded unexpectedly gentle.

“A wise choice. Excessive caffeine is harmful. Good. I’ll have rooibos tea as well.”

Antigonos, looking slightly flushed, ordered rooibos tea from the secretary. Seeing this, Grime and Zerodel exchanged glances again. Was this really the same Admiral Kranaha they knew? His attitude toward Azani was entirely different. What was this? It wasn’t even flattery.

“I’ll have rooibos tea as well.”

“Mine too. Rooibos tea.”

The secretary looked briefly startled but then composed himself, bowed, and left the room.

“Why are you two drinking rooibos tea? Since when have you enjoyed herbal teas?”

Antigonos frowned and scolded his colleagues. The two marshals stared at him as if he were ridiculous and shook their heads. He was the last person who should say such a thing. Clearly, he wanted to show off his closeness with Azani by having the two of them drink rooibos tea together, but did he really think they’d let him do that? Not a chance.

“I’ve been drinking too much coffee these past few days. My stomach feels raw.”

“I’m the same. If I drink one more, it’ll be my fifth cup today.”

The two used stomach pain as an excuse. Since it was reasonable, Antigonos couldn’t say anything more and only crossed his arms.

“Well then, the tea will be ready soon. Let us begin the meeting in the meantime.”

Nael drew their attention back and opened the discussion for the day. He updated them on the current progress of government affairs and once again emphasized the need for smooth cooperation. No one objected. The three marshals quietly listened, nodding along.

Soon, warm tea was brought in. When they drank coffee, each person simply had a single high-quality coffee cup placed before them, but now a teapot filled generously for four sat on the table along with a plate of tea snacks. The three marshals were rather taken aback. It felt uncomfortably close to an afternoon tea set.

“Relax and drink.”

As they watched the chancellor sip elegantly from the cup poured by the secretary, the three marshals decided that sometimes one simply had to go along with what was pleasant. They picked up their cups. It wasn’t half bad.

“Renault and Sergeyev will arrive sometime this week.”

In the relaxed tea atmosphere, Grime shared the report he had received that day.

“This week?”

“Thursday, or as early as Wednesday.”

Nael tilted his head slightly. That meant…

“It seems they plan to return swiftly with only their flagship and a few escorts.”

Zerodel said. Returning with only a handful of ships would be much faster than moving the entire fleet. And their decision was heavily influenced by the weekend’s events.

“Bertuccio and Lopez will also arrive a few days earlier than planned. Good.”

Antigonos murmured with a perfectly calm expression. Grime and Zerodel thought again about how shameless he was. Because Antigonos’s ritual display had been canceled, the fleet commanders judged there was no need for massive military mobilization and chose to return quickly. He should at least have had the decency to keep quiet, yet here he was saying it was good they’d arrive early. They wondered whether he possessed something like a conscience.

“Then let’s confirm the national ceremony date based on their arrival estimates. The next topic…”

Nael shifted to discussing the Empire’s future stance toward the Union. More than a week had passed since the tragedy of early May, more than enough time for information to reach the Union. They needed to consider what kind of response might come.

“No offense, but unless they’ve gone insane, they won’t launch a counter-invasion.”

Zerodel said. Perhaps a classical-culture enthusiast reenacting an ancient ritual might do something foolish, but so far there were no signs of fractures within the Empire. Of course, that didn’t mean they could relax. The Union could secretly approach ambitious high-ranking officers and incite rebellion.

“For now, yes. But we can’t be certain.”

Grime stroked his chin, deep in thought. He worried about whether the generals who had been left at the front, now covering for the rapidly recalled senior commanders, could truly fulfill their roles.

“If our enemies make foolish decisions, then we simply help them properly regret their mistakes.”

Antigonos expressed it in an unusually refined way. On any other day, he would have been blunt and crude, but today he felt strangely restrained.

“I don’t like leaving Wolfsburg unguarded. But it’s difficult to order the returning senior commanders to redeploy immediately…”

Grime muttered with a troubled expression. Nael silently sipped his tea.

Wolfsburg, the fortress at the frontier.

Its original name had been Omega-9. Though barely meeting the minimum conditions to support human life, it was so harsh, to the point of being brutal, that no one wanted to settle there. It was a frontier world people avoided.

If it had been merely desolate, they might have left it alone, but Omega-9 contained rich deposits of rare earth elements. During the era of the Space Union, some corporations used miners from the lower class to extract resources there. When the Union began losing territory at the end of its era, Omega-9 became an emergency refuge. They had lost all their first-class planets.

Those who lived on Omega-9 jokingly called it Mordor. It was a nickname taken from the classic The Lord of the Rings, referring to the land of evil. There was even a surveillance tower that resembled the Eye of Sauron, making the name all the more fitting.

The Union, fighting to protect its last remaining territory, sent explorers in search of new worlds. Since Mordor was already the furthest frontier they had ever settled, finding another habitable world required time and patience.

Fortunately, the Empire had begun an invasion but retreated back to their homeworlds, buying the Union time. A few years later, they discovered the frigid planet Hope, and thirty-four years after that, they finally found a true Earth-tier first-class planet.

Migration began. The young people who carried the future of the Union were the first to cross over. Men and women of middle age and older volunteered to remain behind and defend the old Union worlds. They felt responsible for the Union ending up in this state. Unstable peace would soon end. If the Empire invaded again, they had to be prepared to lose every known territory.

The Empire failed to notice that the Union had managed to breathe again. They assumed the Union would eventually collapse on its own. With all communication severed, the Union would lack resources and economic strength, so unless they wanted to be weeded out, they would come crawling out waving a white flag.

But to the Empire’s disappointment, the Union held on in silence. Much later, a rather ordinary emperor dug up old records and rediscovered their existence, restoring the Union’s name to Imperial history.

The three fleets that had departed confidently, boasting they would crush the fools of the old era, returned in utter defeat and disgrace. The Empire was thrown into chaos. It no longer seemed like the Union they once knew.

A second and third punitive fleet were assembled, and fierce battles followed. The old planets fell one by one to the Empire. The final and fiercest battle took place on Mordor. During the three days and nights of fighting, every defender died.

Not a single person attempted to retreat. Leaving recklessly risked having their navigation data to the new territories seized, so they destroyed everything cleanly and fought to the last. The Imperial forces, cursing their stubbornness, searched desperately for any information and managed to obtain only the simple fact that a planet named Hope existed.

Without knowing the route, the Empire had to search the way just as the Union pioneers had done. This took several more years. They eventually located Hope, but Nova Union had long since transformed it into a frontline fortress in preparation for this very day.

Having lost over seventy percent of its forces, the Imperial army retreated in humiliation.

—The dog tucks its tail and runs.

The fortress commander sent this message to Gratia, capital of Nova Union. Citizens, who had been anxiously waiting, erupted in cheers and held festivals. This planet, which from afar looked like a white dress tied with a pale green sash, was deeply loved by the Union’s people. With affection and a bit of mischief, they gave it many nicknames: Queen Snow, Siberian Exile, and Minas Tirith.

Since Mordor had become the Empire’s frontline fortress, Minas Tirith was a perfectly fitting nickname. Currently, Minas Tirith was guarded by Admiral Lee Daniel, who kept watch over the waters between Minas Tirith and Mordor, the so-called red zone.

Mordor had been given a new official name: Wolfsburg. Though many Imperials still secretly called it Mordor, in formal settings it was always Wolfsburg.

In any case, if the Union attempted a counter-invasion, they would have to capture Wolfsburg. There were other routes, but they were too long and poorly charted to be realistic. Conversely, this meant the Empire would also have to capture Hope no matter what. These two planets were the furthest outposts of each side, crucial strategic points.

It was like saying that to reach Hanyang in Joseon, one had to pass through Uiju. Yes, there were ways to land at Incheon and move up the Han River, or circle around to Gunsan or Busan, but for a nomadic-state invasion, the Uiju route was ideal. Crossing the sea in large numbers had never been easy.

“I’ve never heard that Admiral Lee Daniel was aggressive by nature. But if the Union government issues an order, he will move.”

Grime said.

“Right now isn’t a good time for them to attempt a counterattack. If they intended to invade, they should have come right after the news of the emperor’s death spread. More likely they’ll send a condolence delegation. And while they’re at it, they’ll get a read on the atmosphere in the imperial capital.”

Nael opened his mouth to speak. The three marshals nodded, seeming to share the same view.

“If things move quickly, Wolfsburg will probably receive contact within a few days.”

“Even if the Union’s official delegation departs immediately, it will still take nearly two months to reach the capital. If nothing else changes in the Empire before then…”

Nael trailed off.

“If nothing changes?”

Grime asked.

“Hmm. I don’t think we should make decisions lightly without Marshal Valois present, but I’ll at least share my thoughts. If they wish to establish a peace treaty, I am considering reviewing it positively.”

“A peace treaty…?”

Antigonos stroked his chin with an unreadable expression.

“Nothing is confirmed. It’s just a vague possibility I’ve been thinking about. But I want everyone to keep it in mind. I don’t want another full-scale war.”

The three marshals neither agreed nor refused. They listened quietly, unable to align reason and emotion. Rationally, they knew it made sense. But emotionally, they regretted that they might not be able to pursue their ambitions as military men.

“Let’s move on.”

Nael proceeded to the next agenda item. The four marshals straightened their posture, each speaking their views and listening to the others.

Because no unnecessary emotional clashes occurred, the meeting ended quickly. As Nael skimmed through the documents, he sensed someone’s gaze fixed on his face and looked up.

“Do you have something to say to me, Antigonos?”

Grime and Zerodel, who had been preparing to stand up, froze in place.

Antigonos? He addressed him by name?

“Sometime during the week, let’s have dinner together.”

Fully aware of Grime and Zerodel’s stunned stares, Antigonos stated his request confidently.

“Unfortunately, my weekday schedule is full. Let’s meet on the weekend.”

Nael refused gently, then stood and said he would head out first.

“If that’s how things are for you…”

Antigonos muttered as if it were nothing, glancing sideways at Grime and Zerodel. Their shocked expressions amused him. Did you see that? This is our relationship. With his shoulders thrown back proudly, Antigonos left the room with a swagger.

* * *

Busy days continued. Imperial citizens did their best in their respective positions. The upper class watched their words carefully, the media remained calm, and the economy was stabilizing. Of course, the baby in the incubator was also growing steadily.

A peacefully maintained daily life. People understood this was because the conflict within the core of power had not sharpened. If even one person deviated, the balance would collapse, yet surprisingly, cooperation had held firm so far.

The chancellor showed clear determination to sustain the Empire even at the cost of grinding down his own body, and both the military and the civil bureaucrats were responding cooperatively. It was nothing short of miraculous.

In small groups, when the leader suddenly disappears, people tend to fight over that pitiful position. Yet now, the throne, not some trivial leadership post, had become vacant, and still the highest-ranking figures were suppressing their ambitions. Such a situation was closer to a fairy tale.

Why was no one rushing to make a move? Was this the last gift His Majesty left for the Empire?

“What do you think, Renault? Honestly, my opinion is that this is just a temporary alignment of coincidences.”

Sergeyev muttered while stroking his beard.

“This balance we call temporary may last longer than expected. Perhaps that too is part of His Majesty’s design. The people he carefully selected now lead the Empire.”

Renault chose his words with care. They had arrived in the capital around the same time and were returning from their visit to the palace.

“Yes. They are talents personally chosen by His Majesty.”

The two of them got into their official car together. They had paid their respects to the late Emperor and Empress and met with Chancellor Azani; now it was time to visit the Ministry of War.

“I thought of many things during the trip back to the capital. That’s why I was able to stand calmly before His Majesty. But it still feels like something heavy is stuck on one side of my chest.”

Renault murmured with a lonely expression.

“How could it be otherwise? All of us will bury our hollow and sorrowful feelings deep inside as we continue living. The brilliant future that felt within arm’s reach suddenly closed before our eyes, how are we supposed to express that grief?”

“Yes… that’s true.”

Their conversation paused for a moment. Renault, ever youthful and lively as the youngest active senior general, decided to shift the mood and brought up another topic.

“Marshal Azani seems to have changed quite a bit. I’d seen a few recorded clips of how his style shifted after retirement, but meeting him in person felt different. Since he returned to active duty, I expected him to revert to his old self, but that wasn’t the case.”

“Hmm. He seemed considerably softer. It’s too early to judge from a short meeting, but he no longer has that rigid, cold, unilateral attitude he once did.”

“Frankly speaking, he used to be very unlikable, didn’t he? But now he feels more like a human with emotions. Maybe it’s because he isn’t doing that slicked-back hairstyle anymore?”

Renault added jokingly and laughed. Sergeyev also gave a faint smile. As always, gossiping about a certain senior officer when he wasn’t around was enjoyable, only now, the tone was not entirely negative.

“I heard he said he’ll never do that damn slicked-back hairstyle again.”

“Ah, yes. I heard.”

Renault’s face showed an embarrassed expression. He knew exactly when and why that comment had been made.

“Admiral Kranaha…”

Sergeyev began to say something but stopped. Renault understood how he felt. He felt the same way.

When the military minister first managed to reach him after the incident broke out, he said he had already sent an urgent message to “Marshal Antigonos Kranaha.” Not Admiral Kranaha,Antigonos Kranaha. He offered no further explanation, but Renault immediately understood the meaning and replied that he would move his fleet as quickly as possible.

In human history, it was extremely common for key military figures to reveal their ambitions after the death of an absolute monarch. It was difficult to assume Admiral Kranaha would be an exception.

So Renault had set out for his return in a highly tense state, only to receive word a few days later that the situation had been resolved. The chancellor had persuaded him successfully, they said. How? With his body.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Unable to accept it, he checked the information from every possible angle. The result was shocking. It was true. That Kranaha had spent a passionate night with that Azani.

“The relationship between the two of them is… no, never mind. It’s not something I should comment on.”

“If the two directly involved agreed to it, then a third party has no business making judgements.”

Sergeyev recalled the appearance of one of the two men who had set the entire military ablaze with rumors. Meeting him again for the first time in months, he was dignified, refined, composed. Surely he knew people were whispering, wondering how desperate he must have been to give up his body. Yet he remained calm. Anyone who met him would trust him. As long as he held his position, the Empire would not falter.

“I heard the other admirals are also choosing their words very carefully, so we should be even more cautious.”

“I agree. I heard Club Lorelei is practically empty these days.”

Ordinary people could freely visit bars, but high-ranking officers could not risk being seen like that. And in any case, they had no time to drink and chat.

The two men continued speaking only within safe limits, neither revealing everything. They knew each other well enough to converse, but not enough to reveal their hearts. In chaotic times like these, when no one could fully grasp another’s intentions, the best option was always caution.

* * *

Renault and Sergeyev seemed safe enough.

Nael reviewed the report on their movements after the grand disaster, then closed the screen. The translucent holographic monitor quickly returned to standby mode.

The report was compiled from information gathered by agents planted aboard the senior generals’ flagships. According to it, there were no signs the two had attempted secret coordination with Kranaha or carried out any independent scheme.

Renault and Sergeyev had been performing diligent patrols mixed with training. When they received the urgent report, they were shocked and immediately began their return. They obeyed the orders of the Ministry of War without resistance, and they tightened military discipline in case of emergencies. They had even punished several officers who recklessly talked about forming military cliques.

Could Bertuccio and Lopez also be trusted?

Nael sincerely hoped the remaining two senior generals were also loyal men, not people hiding ambitions he had failed to detect.

If the senior generals stayed calm, handling the ranks below them would be easy. There were certainly younger, hot-blooded, aggressive officers, but the one man who could have become their rallying point had unexpectedly become mild.

“Kranaha…”

If he had rallied the extremists and started an uprising, there would have been no stopping him. It was fortunate beyond words that a mere lover’s contract had restrained his actions.

Since he had already been thinking about the man, Nael decided he should contact him. It was currently 11:10 p.m. Surely he wasn’t asleep already.

“……”

Nael raised his hand toward the terminal but stopped. His thoughts were tangled in many ways.

Since the weekend, he had seen the man several times during the workweek, so he had never made a personal call. They would meet on the weekend anyway and spend the night together, but if he wanted to keep the man appeased, placing a call first during the week might not be a bad idea.

Let’s think of it as part of managing a troublesome customer.

Was this how a department-store employee felt when dealing with a wealthy but temperamental client who would cause chaos the moment things didn’t go his way?

Feeling a deep sense of kinship with workers in the service industry, Nael switched his holographic monitor to mirror mode and checked his reflection. He was sitting in the study at home, dressed comfortably. His hair was not tied back, and he wore a thin T-shirt with a cardigan. Thanks to several days of diligent bruise-treatment sessions, no kiss marks were visible above his neck.

Good. Time to make the call.

Thinking of his four-years-younger lover, who was ridiculously proud of his own youthfulness, Nael pressed the direct-dial button. After a few rings, the man’s face filled the screen.

—What brings my dear Chancellor to call at this hour?

The towering man in a dressing gown stared at him. He certainly did not look flattered to be receiving a late-night call.

“I was worried my younger boyfriend might be looking elsewhere. If you’re busy, hang up.”

—No, no. I’m not busy. Don’t hang up.

Only then did something like a smile appear on his face. At the same time, Nael saw lust flicker in his eyes. The ultra-high-resolution display showed his expression far too clearly.

Nael sensed the man’s gaze tracing over his face and sliding down toward his neck, but outwardly he spoke calmly.

“We agreed to meet on the weekend, yes, but we’re supposed to be lovers. Never making personal contact isn’t exactly polite, don’t you think?”

—I’ve always known you were a sensible and steady person. Still, this is unexpected. I thought you’d grudgingly show up on the weekend just to offer your body.

“You didn’t expect it at all? Then I’ve given you a pleasant surprise. I hope it pleased you.”

—Pleased me? More than enough. If it’s from you, I’d gladly take your call day or night, so don’t hesitate. Call whenever you want.

Antigonos leaned closer to the screen, as if he wanted to see him from just a little nearer. Feeling uneasy, Nael shifted his posture as if adjusting his seat, leaning back. It didn’t change much, the chair’s backrest stopped him from moving any farther.

—Lift your hair a little.

He made the sudden request.

“Hair?”

Nael thought for a moment, then gathered the thick, flowing black hair with both hands and raised it. A quick glance at the screen told him the man was staring without even blinking. It felt strangely embarrassing.

—Turn your neck a little. Show me the back of it.

“…”

His younger boyfriend spoke in a voice that was anything but youthful, giving detailed instructions. Nael did as he wanted. It wasn’t difficult.

—The hickey I left is almost gone.

The low voice came through the screen. The displeasure in it was blatant. If he could, the man looked ready to jump through the screen and gnaw at his neck again.

“I only treated the part that shows above my clothes. My torso still looks the same.”

—Really?

Only then did the man’s expression ease a little. Nael decided he didn’t want to know what thoughts were running through his head.

“Have you seen enough? Can I let my hair down?”

—Let your hair down and pull the collar lower. I’ll check with my own eyes.

Perverted homo bastard. He asked for so much.

Regretting having called in the first place, Nael pulled down the collar with his right hand so his collarbones were completely exposed and the top of his chest was visible.