The Royal Dilemma 1
Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Rupert Walter cautiously leaned his head out of the window to take a look.
"Sir, I went ahead and checked; there's no one in the alley," reported the attendant standing outside, leaning closer to speak quietly.
"Good, we'll take this route today."
The wheels of the carriage creaked as they began to turn, surrounded by a dozen guards with their hands on their sword hilts, each with a wary expression, as if facing a formidable enemy.
However, just as they entered the alley, a loud shout echoed, "The Chancellor's carriage is here!"
Rupert Walter, sitting inside, felt a jolt of panic and silently cursed, "This is bad!"
He looked outside and saw a large crowd rushing toward them. Where did all these people come from? Were they all hiding in the cracks of the ground?
Since the rebellion led by the greedy wolf Duke Giles was "suppressed," appeasing the southern nobles who lost their lands during the uprising had become a major headache for the kingdom's government.
The so-called suppression of the rebellion only secured Giles's promise not to defect from the Aldor Kingdom, but the lands south of Thorn Fortress remained under the control of this wolf.
During the early stages of the rebellion, the main force of the kingdom's army was busy expelling the Highland Barbarians, recapturing the capital that had been incited by the rebels, and preparing for the food shortages caused by the fires, which significantly delayed their advance south. Meanwhile, Giles was not in a hurry to launch a northern offensive; instead, he focused his efforts on dealing with the southern territories loyal to the royal family but lacking timely support. By the time the kingdom's army was ready to move, most of the southern lands were already under Giles's control.
Looking back at Giles's actions throughout the rebellion, it seems his initial intention was not to seize the highest authority in the kingdom but to create chaos to attract the royal family's attention, and then swallow as much as he could for himself.
The territories newly annexed by Giles were all granted to his subordinates, while the former owners of those lands who were still alive were driven north in accordance with his "knightly spirit," without any harm to their lives.
These displaced nobles naturally gathered in the capital, Crystal Glare, bringing their families along, arriving in large numbers.
The king had no choice but to allocate substantial funds to settle them—this was necessary; they had fallen to such a state due to their loyalty to the royal family. Out of both sentiment and reason, the king had to honor this loyalty. If he ignored them, it would dishearten all the nobles loyal to the royal family throughout the kingdom.
However, the money the king provided could only sustain the most basic living standards for these nobles. This was manageable for those whose fortunes had dwindled or whose lands were no larger than a village, but it was not sufficient for the upper-tier nobles.
These nobles, when in their territories, had a multitude of servants at their beck and call, surrounded by followers when they stepped outside, and could hunt in their private forests all day long. Their lives were filled with feasts and tournaments, and they had never experienced such a frugal existence (in their view); it felt like they had fallen from heaven to hell. Before losing their wealth, such lives were common for these nobles, but now they had become a memory of paradise.
Another significant contrast was the change in status. While they were lords in their territories, their words were law, and their commands held more weight than the king's. Now, having fallen into Crystal Glare, relying on others, their voices had lost some of their authority.
Originally, if the kingdom's army could defeat Giles, they would reclaim their lands, and as loyalists, they might even snatch some rewards from the defeated Giles and his vassals.
But they had waited and waited, only to see such a result; it seemed the royal family had effectively acknowledged Giles's control over the southern lands.
What would happen to their original territories then? What would their future lives look like?
Resentment and frustration slowly gathered in the hearts of these displaced nobles.
So they began to run around, appealing to their connections in the noble circles of Crystal Glare, strongly demanding the organization of troops once again to subdue the traitor Giles, to wash away the kingdom's shame and restore their territories in the south.
Under the relentless pressure of their dwindling livelihoods, the second objective gradually became the primary aim in the hearts of most people.
Their actions aligned with the demands of the hardline factions among the nobles, gaining their support, and transforming into a powerful force. Their actions grew bolder, to the point where they now gathered daily at the palace gates to petition, intercepting the carriages of high-ranking court officials on major thoroughfares.
Earl Rupert Walter, who had served as Chancellor to the current king for nearly twenty years, now faced the situation of being besieged by this group of people.
Heaven above, to avoid this crowd, he had been changing his route to the palace daily.
But now there was no way to avoid it; Rupert could only straighten his clothes and step down from the carriage, shooting a fierce glare at the attendant who had scouted ahead.
The guards held shields tightly, forming a protective circle around the Chancellor.
There was no other choice; after all, a court official had been hit with a rotten egg when he confronted this group a few days ago.
Although that official's rank was not high, who could guarantee that the displaced nobles' anger wouldn't spread to the ministers?
What if a rotten egg turned into a brick or even a dagger?
"Chancellor! How are the discussions with His Majesty and the ministers going?"
"Yes, when will the royal family send troops to attack the rebels?"
"Chancellor! If troops are sent, please make sure to take me along; I want to see my territory reclaimed with my own eyes."
As soon as Rupert stood firm, the calls for war rang out continuously.
He raised his hand to gesture for quiet, "Gentlemen! Gentlemen! War is not a trivial matter; it concerns the safety and future of the nation, a top-level issue that cannot be decided in a day or two."
He couldn't say they would immediately go to war, nor could he say they wouldn't fight; he was truly in a difficult position.
The crowd was unhappy with his response.
"It can't be decided in a day or two, but it has almost been a year or two; can't you come to a decision already?"
"Exactly! If this continues, the people in our territories will almost forget about us lords."
"Chancellor, we don't want to be parasites in the capital; we want to return to our territories and fend for ourselves."
The clamor of discontent merged into a chorus, leaving Rupert feeling quite overwhelmed.
"Chancellor, we know that nothing can be decided on the streets; this is our collective petition to the king."
An elder shakily pulled out a thick booklet from his bosom and tremulously handed it to Rupert.
"Please make sure to pass it on to His Majesty. Alas! How I wish to see my hometown once more before I am called to the Lord's grace!"
As the elder spoke, tears streamed down his face, prompting those around him to join in his sorrow.
Alas! How many times has this happened? At first, Rupert felt a pang of sadness, but now his heart was nothing but cold.
The Chancellor bet that Giles's spies were nearby, secretly watching his embarrassment.
(End of the Chapter)
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