The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - Chapter 36

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 36: The Prince of High Society (12)
The Third Prince’s seal, carved into fine wax.
The seal remained intact. It was indeed a letter that had just arrived.
I broke open the sealed letter.
“I heard of the disturbance at the reception. They say you trampled the Duchess of Gevel’s consort before all eyes. Disturbance is one of your rare talents. Continue to hone it.”
‘He already knows about something that happened less than a day ago. So he’s been watching after all.’
Beyond the brief praise at the beginning, the rest of the letter concerned itself entirely with Eldritchi.
“I received a report that the Eldritchi side is requesting an audience with Zion Blize.”
“The disposal of traitors falls entirely under my purview as Prince. I have no intention of yielding that accomplishment to anyone.”
“Therefore I command this: convey to the elves of Eldritchi that if they wish to exchange words with Zion Blize, they must come to the Imperial Capital and present themselves before me.”
“If you can move the elves to the Imperial Capital, I shall advance the spectacle I promised. Reply immediately.”
Spectacle. He meant the execution.
“Winter. Read it.”
“Am I permitted to look, sir?”
“Read it and think. You’re better at this than I am.”
Winter finished reading the entire letter and spoke after a moment’s consideration.
“It seems the Third Prince is under considerable pressure—though I confess I cannot fathom why. Surely he has no cause to rush so.”
‘It’s because of me, that’s why.’
Zion Blize’s imprisonment had ended several months ago.
To be precise, his body had vanished entirely.
And yet Zion Blize was still known to be confined in the prison, suffering his ordeal.
‘I’ve managed to hold out for months with a phantom prisoner, but now he needs the real thing.’
A person of considerable influence was reaching into an empty cell.
The problem lay in the direction.
The Third Prince had ordered the elves brought to the Imperial Capital, but for Zion it had to be the opposite.
The elves could not go to the Imperial Capital—the Execution Grounds had to come to Deber.
“Let’s go. Back to the elves.”
I returned to the table where the elf and her daughter sat.
“Was it good news?”
Smaragd asked.
A calm smile. Beneath it, I could see her scales shifting rapidly.
“Half of it, perhaps? You’ve made a request to the Governor’s Office, I gather. Regarding Zion Blize.”
“I did ask the Governor for a favor. He processes matters quickly.”
“Speed means nothing if the direction is wrong.”
I lowered my voice.
“The Governor’s Office belongs to the First Prince’s faction. But it is the Third Prince, my elder brother, who holds Zion Blize. You know how things stand between them.”
“I understand they are not on favorable terms.”
“I cannot guarantee which drawer that petition will sleep in, or if it will ever wake.”
“Then… which path remains open?”
I tapped my chest lightly.
“This one.”
“Your Highness.”
A fold of cloth was tugged quietly.
Noksiluna looked up at me with eyes like glass beads.
‘Why again.’
“Is that truly so?”
“Would I speak falsehood in a place like this?”
“No.”
……
I ignored her and turned to Smaragd.
“So then. What will you do?”
……
* * *
The reception concluded well.
Beyond the original objective of punishing the Seiellia Social Club, I had made known the name of the Zonia Social Club, and the conversation with the elves had ended favorably too.
‘Well, the Zonia part depends on what happens next, of course.’
A few days passed.
Now it was time to turn my attention to Winter—that fool needed some work.
Vroom.
The automobile rolled low and quiet along the curved drive of the most expensive residential district in Deber’s capital.
Through the window, carefully trimmed garden trees stood in formation like soldiers on parade.
All of them pruned in the Imperial style.
‘Roots planted in Deber soil, branches shaped like the Empire itself.’
There was no garden in this city that captured the hearts of its masters quite so perfectly.
And at the apex of it all stood the residence of Marquis Remiconing.
“Well, isn’t this something.”
‘How much of what the country owed ended up poured into this mansion?’
With interest, he’d need a tidy sum returned.
But for that to happen, Winter couldn’t remain frozen like this.
“Relax, Winter.”
“If that were under my control, I wouldn’t be making this face right now.”
“Your expression looks fine to me.”
“That’s exactly the problem. Inside, there are two or three other expressions fighting it out.”
Zion gazed out at the mansion and chuckled softly.
“Fair enough. We’re walking into the house of one of Deber’s most infamous traitors—that’s reason enough to be on edge.”
“Coming from a deposed prince, no less.”
He brushed past the remark and continued in a teasing tone.
“You’ve got your Defensive Magical Tool, right? We’re walking straight into enemy territory—if things go sideways, he might try something.”
Playing around had let his rebel sympathies slip through; the imperial prince facade had cracked.
Besides, bringing Winter along was partly because walking into a tiger’s den alone seemed foolish.
“…won’t happen, though. Hurt a Divine Race and it’s genocide—nine generations wiped out.”
And if the target is a prince? Nine times worse.
Never mind that he’d been deposed anyway.
“In any case, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried about that in the first place.”
After a few more minutes of idle talk,
they arrived at the marquis’s residence.
“Welcome, Your Highness. I am honored—humbled, even—that you would grace this modest house with your presence.”
One figure stood at the main gate to greet them. The Marquis himself.
His smile was genuinely warm, but behind it, Zion suspected, he was mentally calculating furiously.
An unexpected visit with advance notice would do that to anyone.
“Nothing in particular. Just thought I’d drop by.”
“Of course, of course! You’re always welcome. Please, refresh yourself.”
They entered the reception hall, apologetic remarks trailing behind about its modest nature.
It was far more lavish than the finest hotel where Zion usually stayed.
The moment tea was set down, the Marquis cleared his throat.
“Your Highness. I see you’ve brought your aide again.”
“That’s what an aide is for, isn’t it?”
“Ha, indeed it is.”
The Marquis suddenly turned a tender gaze toward Winter.
“But first, I must apologize, Your Highness. For some reason, this young man’s face seemed familiar, and I couldn’t shake it even at night. So I took the liberty—forgive my rudeness—of inquiring into his origins. Flowering… many years ago, there was a woman with whom I was intimately connected. When I made the calculations, the timing aligned perfectly.”
The Marquis smiled gently and spoke a two-character name aloud.
“Winter. Is that truly your name?”
Winter removed his hat and bowed respectfully.

“It is an honor to meet you, Marquis.”
“Yes, yes. And you serve such a distinguished master… How fortunate. My son serves a great man, and as a father, I couldn’t be prouder.”
Zion’s eyes snapped toward Winter instinctively.
Winter, who had been standing rigidly, struggled to regain his composure before speaking.
Or rather, he made a convincing show of doing so.
“Marquis, I believe you may be mistaken about something.”
“Mistaken?”
“I have never heard of having a father. My mother passed away long ago as well. It seems you have confused me with someone else.”
The Marquis took Winter’s hand.
“Confused? Would a father not know his own son? Your mother’s name was Flowering, was it not? A woman with whom I was deeply connected, many years ago. The timing, when I reckon it, aligns perfectly.”
The father, unaware of his son’s existence, spoke with honeyed eloquence.
His aim was singular: to humiliate the dark-haired creature born of base blood who now stood as the prince’s aide.
“Your mother never told you? Not even a hint?”
“She passed away long ago, and I never knew I had a father.”
The Marquis held fast to Winter’s hand.
“Tsk, tsk.”
In that instant, Zion saw it.
The faintest give in the Duke’s shoulders.
‘He’s relieved.’
A dead woman cannot speak the truth.
Cannot speak of being abandoned.
“Since the Divine has seen fit to bring us together again, is this not fate itself? What say you—shall this father and…….”
“Forgive me.”
Winter cut him short.
“Please, give me time. It’s all so sudden.”
Neither denial nor acceptance—mere postponement.
‘Clever bastard. Look at him perform.’
Perhaps I should throw something into the mix?
“But Duke, I’m curious about something.”
“Yes, please, ask freely.”
“So Winter inherits your title? You’re hardly a spring chicken anymore. Why not hand it over now and spend your days attending to the Crown Prince instead of Winter?”
The smile vanished from the Duke’s face.
Or rather—that wasn’t quite accurate.
The smile remained fixed there, but the muscles beneath froze half a beat late.
Like old wax cracking from the corners of the mouth outward.
“A jest. Handle your own affairs as you see fit.”
He waved a hand airily and continued.
“Duke—what do you suppose drives the Crown Prince to this place today?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“I want a seat at a grander table.”
“If Your Highness permits, Remiconing stands ready to serve at any moment.”
“I intend to make use of Deber for various ventures. But Winter alone isn’t enough hands. How fortuitous that you’re his father—why not both of you share in the honor of serving the Crown Prince?”
Service, and honor.
The Duke’s eyebrows flickered at the gap between those two words.
“……With caution. No—gladly.”
Flattery followed in the wake of his smile.
“Should this humble one’s meager hand prove of service to Your Highness, I could ask for no greater blessing. Yet the nobles of Seiellia have keen eyes. Should Your Highness and myself grow suddenly close…….”
He’d thought it flattery, but it wasn’t.
‘The scheming little rat.’
He wanted the sweet taste without the visible mark.
Well, that suited the purpose.
Even if I swallowed him whole, there’d be no whispered aftermath like there was with Rayzon or Dechion.
“Fine. Then let’s simply look at how we work. I’ve sent a letter to the Imperial Capital. I provided the ship myself—it means the wind should favor it. That the Elven representatives remain in Deber by strong preference; that should suffice.”
Indirect pressure on the Third Prince—that was the design.
“Whispers travel farther still, so discretion would serve better, Your Highness.”
At Winter’s single remark, the Duke laughed with paternal warmth.
“Good counsel, Winter. I’m grateful.”
Watching him, Zion’s lips curled.
The old habit lingered in his bones; his mouth twisted into a smirk.
“Your Highness—is your mood perhaps disquieted?”
“Ah. The Crown Prince’s face tends toward mischief when he smiles. Don’t take offense.”
“No, no—surely it is a kindly expression, only perhaps a touch…….”
After another hour or so of pleasantries, he rose from his seat.
“I’ll be taking my leave now, Duke.”
“Safe travels. Winter, go carefully as well.”
Winter bowed wordlessly and followed Zion out.
A step or two ahead, Winter descended the stairs and opened the car door.
Zion took the back seat; Winter, the driver’s.
Conversation began shortly after.
“He’s been moved to the board.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t expect you to uncover my identity. But an unforeseen card or two hardly matters.”
“Are you troubled?”
“Why should I be? In fact, it’s for the best. I’ve been wrestling with when to tell you.”
Winter’s expression remained utterly unbothered.
So there was a plan from the start?
No wonder he was acting so unnaturally composed.
“I’ll use this opportunity to make the old serpent pull up a chair of his own accord.”
The car crept slowly out of the mansion.
The mansion blazed with light at every window, the hour grown late.
The brightness made it seem all the more ready to burn.
“Yes. I trust you.”
The letter to the Imperial Capital.
The execution grounds to Deber.
The traitor onto the board.
The First Prince, the Third Prince, Marquis Remiconing, the elves of Eldritchi.
Let each grow intoxicated on their own hand, each seduced by their own possibility.
Until that moment when their cards are laid bare.
‘Well, even so, it’s going smoothly.’

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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