TL: Etude Translations
On the outskirts of the Imperial Capital of the Gabella Empire, the MacDonald family’s estate was graced by the arrival of a carriage. As it slowly made its way through the expansive woodland estate, the rain created pools of water on the ground. The wheels of the carriage, rolling over the cobblestone path, splashed water around, marking its journey.
The carriage proceeded directly through the courtyard to the main building of the estate. This structure bore a strong military imprint, reflecting the military service of generations of family heads. It appeared more like a fortress than a residential manor.
As soon as the carriage stopped, servants rushed out in the rain, carrying woolen cloaks. Marshal MacDonald, clad in knightly armor, stepped out of the carriage. A servant imdiately draped a woolen cloak over him.
Without uttering a word, the Marshal briskly entered the mansion. Inside, the main hall contrasted with the exterior, showcasing lavish and opulent decorations akin to those of other great noble families.
Upon his entry, a woman approached him, gently removing his cloak and handing it to a maid nearby.
“Oh, my dear,” Marshal MacDonald embraced his wife with a smile. “It’s unfortunate you’ve caught a cold. Otherwise, you would have welcod at the palace banquet. Let tell you, there were many fine young n there today.”
His wife rolled her eyes playfully at her husband’s lack of seriousness.
Today marked Marshal MacDonald’s return to the Imperial Capital. Emperor Bartley Griffin had hosted a grand banquet in the palace in his honor. Since his wife was unwell, she had stayed at ho awaiting his return. In their early years of marriage, she would have waited for him at the city gates, regardless of her health.
Leaning close, his wife whispered, “The Pri Minister has sent soone here, and he’s waiting for you.”
Hearing this, Marshal MacDonald’s brow furrowed.
“An inescapable shadow,” he sighed. “Very well, I’ll et this emissary.”
In the study, the emissary from the Dias family was led in by the servants.
He was a shrewd-looking middle-aged man who bowed respectfully to Marshal MacDonald upon entering.
“Congratulations on your victorious return, sir. The Emperor, and indeed the entire Empire, now rely on you more than ever.”
Marshal MacDonald gestured for him to sit, clearly uninterested in the flattery. “I’m not one for beating around the bush. Just tell what the Pri Minister wants.”
The emissary smiled slightly. “Straight to the point, as expected of soone who has spent so many years in the military. Then I’ll be direct.”
He cleared his throat and continued in a gentle tone, “The Pri Minister sent to request a favor from you. Soon, Duke Dias will propose to the Emperor to formally establish a successor to the throne.”
Marshal MacDonald’s pupils narrowed at the ntion of this matter.
He feigned indifference, “As the Empire’s Pri Minister, it’s natural for Duke Dias to make such a suggestion to His Majesty. There’s no need to inform about it.”
The emissary leaned forward. “It’s not that simple. The Duke intends to endorse Prince Felix Griffin as the next Emperor and hopes you will openly support him when the ti cos.”
A clap of thunder sounded outside, and lightning briefly illuminated the room.
Marshal MacDonald narrowed his eyes. “The Pri Minister’s grandson?”
“The legitimate son of the Emperor and the Empress,” the emissary responded with a smile.
Marshal MacDonald replied, “Whom the Emperor chooses as his successor is his own matter. We, as his subjects, have no right to interfere.”
The emissary’s smile faded as he countered, “That’s not quite right, Marshal. The matter of succession affects the fate of the entire Empire and the future of countless subjects. How can it be considered rely the Emperor’s personal affair?”
Although the emissary’s words were sowhat disrespectful to the Emperor, Marshal MacDonald found himself unable to refute them.
“Even so, why should I support Prince Felix?” Marshal MacDonald questioned. “My old comrades have nothing but praise for Prince Antonio’s performance in this recent war.”
The Gabella Empire did not have a written primogeniture succession law, especially for the royal family. Emperors often chose the son they deed most talented as their successor.
The emissary replied calmly, “First, Prince Felix’s abilities are well-known. Although the second prince excels in military strategy, governing a large country like ours requires comprehensive abilities. Moreover, with the background of Prince Felix’s mother, the leading noble families of the Empire, headed by the Dias family, will stand by him. You wouldn’t want the MacDonald family to be isolated, would you?”
Marshal MacDonald snorted and retorted, “If the leading noble families, under the Dias family, are all on his side, is the Pri Minister that confident? If so, what position does the royal family – the Griffin family – hold in this?”
The emissary was montarily at a loss for words.
Realizing his mistake, he quickly tried to smooth things over, “As mbers of the royal Griffin family, they naturally hold a transcendent position. But let’s focus on the main issue, Marshal MacDonald. It’s not aningful to quibble over words.”
Taking a breath, the emissary continued, “This leads to the second reason – the future of the Empire cannot be entrusted to a child born of a witch!”
Marshal MacDonald’s eyes widened in shock, and he rebuked, “Watch your words! She is a woman recognized by His Majesty.”
“Yes, sir,” the emissary nodded, apologizing for his slip of the tongue.
Despite his apology, his expression did not show the sa panic as before.
“I’ll phrase it differently. The future of the Empire should not be in the hands of a son born to a woman of unknown origins.”
Marshal MacDonald closed his eyes, offering no response.
“Marshal MacDonald, I have conveyed the Pri Minister’s request. Now, what are your conditions? I will relay them exactly as you state. I co with sincerity. As long as your conditions are not too excessive, Duke Dias will surely et them.”
Marshal MacDonald remained silent, his eyes closed. He recalled his conversations with Scholar Alvis on the way back to the capital, and the prophecy Alvis kept ntioning.
He chuckled internally. Vague prophecies, the very things he despised, full of mystical nonsense. Though he owed a debt of gratitude to the previous generation for the second prince, it was not enough to sway his long-standing principles.
Nor did he intend to support the first prince.
Opening his eyes, he slowly stood up. “I am a soldier of the Empire, and I fight for it. Whover takes that position, I will swear loyalty to him – as long as he is legitimate. So, please tell the Pri Minister…”
Before he could finish, the emissary started clapping softly, his expression suggesting he had heard sothing amusing.
Interrupted, the Marshal was about to scold him when the emissary spoke.
“Alright, Marshal MacDonald. Actually, Duke Dias never expected that I could persuade you with words alone.”
He then slowly pulled out an item from his coat.
“What do you think this is?”
It was an ancient-looking dagger with beautiful patterns engraved on it.
However, this dagger struck Marshal MacDonald like a thunderbolt.
“Where… where did you get this?”
The emissary’s eyes glead coldly. “There is nothing that the Dias family cannot find out in this country.”
“Where is he now?” The old Marshal was like an enraged lion, ready to pounce.
The emissary’s smile returned. “Don’t worry, Marshal MacDonald. He is safe and comfortable, as are those you sent to protect him. But perhaps, you should reconsider your decision?”
“Are you threatening ?”
“No, how could I dare to threaten a veteran like you, even if I represent the Dias family? We only wish to present you with so options you might have overlooked… but the choice is ultimately yours.”
Marshal MacDonald sat down, looking sowhat defeated. The emissary waited quietly for his response.
After a mont of silence, the Marshal finally spoke, “Very well, tell the Pri Minister I will give his request serious consideration.”
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