Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

"But the Emperor didn't reward you." Aaron smiled with squinted eyes. "And if you're not afraid, then why did you leave the capital and come to the south?"

Marvey's face, already flushed from drinking, seemed even redder as he argued, "His Majesty obviously can't reward me; after all, he still has to rule over those commoners. But in his heart, His Majesty surely appreciates me!"

Aaron's smile grew broader. "Then why did you escape the capital? Aren't you already famous there?"

Marvey's breath hitched, and he leaned his head against his hand in a dejected manner, letting out a sigh. "The reason I fled is similar to why His Majesty executed Grand Duke Karl. Although His Majesty doesn't want me dead, there are... too many fools in the capital who wish to curry favor with him using my blood... Ah..."

Aaron burst out laughing, nearly falling off his chair.

Marvey picked up another cup of wine and silently drank, his tears mixing with the alcohol. The wine no longer seemed so sweet.

After hesitating for a moment, Aaron smiled and reached out to pat Marvey's shoulder. "Don't worry, sooner or later you'll return to the Eternal City. If worst comes to worst... if it gets truly bad, I can put in a good word for you."

Marvey sized Aaron up and spoke with a hint of indignation. "Look at you, with that uncultured appearance, eager to devour every dish—in the end, we're not so different!"

Aaron flew into a rage. "Sampling every dish, that's because... that's because I was too hungry, that's all!"

"Alright, alright, quit explaining." Marvey laughed indifferently, brushing off the earlier gloom. He reached for a platter of food placed inside the table and moved it closer to Aaron, then slyly tucked a bottle of wine into his inner pocket. "Free fine wine—it's a sin not to drink it."

The two of them spitefully wasted some of the Empire's finances.

Aaron suddenly noticed something amiss and shoved Marvey hard. The latter nearly choked.

"You lied to me!" Aaron's voice rose sharply.

Marvey thumped his chest and coughed repeatedly. "What?"

"You not only changed the script of Act Two, Scene Five, but you also altered the final scene!" Aaron shouted furiously. "Originally, in 'Romulo and Lemus,' the ending had Romulo founding the Eternal City, defeating the Iberian People, and being swept away by a great wind to ascend to Heaven, witnessed by his people. But you—what you did was rewrite the final scene entirely, portraying Romulo as being murdered by the nobles! Isn't this deliberately insulting the Emperor?"

...

'Romulo and Lemus,' Act 5, Scene 9.

Romulo, dying, lay on his side on the ground, his robe stained red with "blood," and the dagger embedded in his chest was the very one he'd previously used to kill his twin brother.

"Eternal City! Eternal City!" Romulo cried in agony as he lay there dying. "You feeble beings! You can kill me, but who among you can inherit my legacy? You are not killing a King; you are killing the honor and greatness belonging to the Eternal City! This city shall endure calamities, and in those moments, you will recall me."

"The gods have no right to judge me, dismember my corpse, and bury me beneath the Seven Hills. Do not blindfold me—I will watch it all until the next true King arises. When that time comes, he will give me the justice I deserve."

The trumpet blared softly, and the curtain gently fell.

The audience remained in deathly silence; no one dared glance toward the central box on the second floor. Theater owner Richard Bebich, pale as a ghost, was frantically making prayers.

After what felt like an eternity, a crisp clap echoed from the second floor. Though quiet, it was unmistakably a signal.

Instantly, the entire theater erupted with thunderous applause and fervent cheers.

When the curtain rose anew and Marvey and the actors appeared on stage to take their bows, the center box on the second floor had already been vacated.

...

"Turning a happy ending into a tragedy!" Aaron accused sharply, his tone unrelenting. "And you say you're not deliberately humiliating the Emperor?"

Marvey froze upon hearing this. Instead of rushing to explain, he silently poured himself another glass of wine.

"I had no choice but to change it," Marvey said quietly.

"No choice?" Aaron's voice was a mix of shock and anger.

Marvey lifted the wine glass and sniffed at its contents lightly, his face showing an expression of pride mingled with nonchalance. "Because tragedy achieves higher artistic value!"

Meanwhile, everyone inside Saint Andre Hall heard the herald's loud, resonant announcement: "Prince Richard—has arrived!"

All eyes instinctively turned toward the grand entrance.

The heavy doors slowly opened, and the dashing Prince Richard strode into the banquet hall with a retinue of attendants in tow, his demeanor calm and measured.

Perhaps freed from the shadow of the Emperor, the young prince radiated a rarely seen confidence and vitality within the confines of the court.

Among the prince's entourage, one strikingly handsome blond officer stole the spotlight.