Wanted Order Lifted
1045 Words
"I propose the removal of the wanted status on Ira Elcaras."
A hush instantly fell over the court.
The newly appointed Prime Minister, Marilla Elcaras, had just made a proposal that no one had expected. The murmurs that had filled the grand hall moments ago died away as ministers and nobles alike turned their gazes toward the throne, where Empress Isabella sat in regal silence.
Dressed in the intricate and luxurious attire befitting a ruler, Isabella remained expressionless. She gave no indication of her thoughts—no approval, no condemnation.
Just as when Ira had been in court, she did not react in the way some malicious nobles had hoped. Those who expected her to be weak without Ira, to throw tantrums like a spoiled child, were sorely disappointed.
She merely remained calm.
"Why has the court fallen silent?"
Isabella’s voice was composed, her gaze sweeping across her ministers.
"Do you agree, or do you oppose? I require an answer."
Her tone was even, without warmth or wrath. Unlike her notoriously unrestrained father, Isabella had, under Ira’s tutelage, grown into a ruler who embodied the very essence of a sovereign—so much so that no other words could adequately describe her.
"Your Majesty! Even if Baron Lyman framed him, and even though you have already executed his entire bloodline, Ira still committed treason!"
An elderly official stepped forward, his voice resolute, filled with righteous fury.
"Ira Elcaras harbored ambitions of rebellion! Please, Your Majesty, reconsider!"
At once, another official—a bespectacled young woman—countered with an impassioned outburst, nearly jabbing a finger in the old man's face.
"You senile old fool! Keep your mouth shut! Her Majesty does not need your interference in her decisions!"
Her eyes gleamed with fervent devotion, her admiration for Ira unmistakable.
"Your Majesty! I believe that..."
"Your Majesty, if we were to consider..."
The court quickly descended into a heated debate, ministers from both factions engaging in fervent argument.
Isabella listened in silence. She did not interfere.
The empire was no longer dominated by Ira’s faction alone. The balance of power had shifted.
"Your Majesty! Ira Elcaras is nothing more than a treacherous rebel! He deceived the late Emperor to rise to power! He is but a lowborn peasant, born from the filth of the streets! The Empire owes no loyalty to a man of such insignificance!"
The young noble who spoke these words stood tall, his expression brimming with confidence.
And then—silence.
All eyes turned toward him, filled with the cold detachment reserved for the doomed.
It was well known that Isabella had peculiar reactions when it came to Ira.
Praising Ira would anger her.
Criticizing Ira would also anger her.
Bringing Ira up too much would anger her.
Avoiding the topic of Ira entirely would anger her.
Calling her a competent ruler would anger her.
Questioning her competence would also anger her.
Speaking well of her father would anger her.
Speaking ill of her father would anger her.
In short, anything regarding Ira—or even remotely linked to him—was a minefield.
And this fool had just trampled over every single one of them.
More importantly, Isabella knew exactly who this young noble was. He was one of Baron Lyman’s associates—the same Baron Lyman who had issued the falsified warrant that had led to this entire debacle.
What had been meant as a mere game of political maneuvering between Ira and Isabella had spiraled into something irreversible due to unseen hands pulling the strings.
A simple exercise in control—a lesson in how to challenge and restrain Ira’s influence—had been distorted into an outright betrayal.
And yet…
She could not deny that the Empire had flourished in Ira’s absence.
"Guards, seize him. Lock him in the dungeon."
Isabella's voice was calm, yet the command struck like a hammer.
The young noble's confidence shattered in an instant, replaced by sheer terror.
"Wait—Your Majesty! No! I—I didn’t mean—!"
His cries turned into incoherent sobs as the guards dragged him away.
Just another fool among fools.
With a composed expression, Isabella glanced at the stain he had left on the pristine palace floor—a mix of urine and filth.
Disgusting.
Her gaze returned to the silent court.
"Effective immediately, the wanted status on Ira Elcaras is lifted."
The court erupted in urgent whispers, but Isabella did not grant them an opportunity to protest.
"Morning court is dismissed. Marilla, come to the imperial study."
With that, she rose, her attendants swiftly stepping in to assist her. Without sparing another glance at her ministers, she departed.
—
Marilla Elcaras, the newly appointed Prime Minister, followed in silence.
Though a key figure in Ira’s faction, she had not been met with the same resistance as he had. After all, she lacked Ira’s overwhelming presence.
A balance of power between the noble factions was, after all, the key to the Empire’s stability.
—
"You have carried out your task well, Marilla."
Marilla bowed respectfully before Isabella, whose golden eyes remained fixed on the book in her hands.
Dressed in a far simpler gown, without the weight of the royal regalia, she finally looked like a sixteen-year-old girl rather than a sovereign ruler.
"Take a seat," Isabella offered. "If I recall correctly, you came straight from the battlefield against the monsters, didn’t you?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Marilla confirmed.
Isabella’s lips curved into the faintest smile.
"How is Ira doing?"
"…?"
Marilla blinked.
Isabella sighed lightly at the confusion on her face.
"I see. So you don’t know either."
She closed her book with a soft thud.
"No matter. There’s no need to worry. Ira is far more suited to being a ruler than I am."
Marilla’s lips parted slightly, but she remained silent.
That was not something anyone in their right mind would dare to respond to.
"Your Majesty," she finally spoke, choosing her words carefully, "do you regret issuing that decree?"
Silence.
"From a rational perspective, I do not regret it," Isabella stated. "Even if my order was misinterpreted—even if it led to Ira’s departure—I still believe that the Empire is stronger without him."
"…And from an emotional perspective?" Marilla asked.
Silence.
- Writer
