50. The Truth in the Rear Palace
The northern lands that had once been the empire — now the Special Administrative District of the Republic Recobrick — woke early. Even under the old calendar still used in the former imperial territories, dawn broke with the first light of day and the crow of the rooster. Court ceremonies and morning administrative work began.
For Kakuda Kazuo, who had grown used to the 24-hour cycle of the old world, winter government work still felt heavy.
(Ugh, it’s so cold. The Sun Empire Sonne-Impero may be a name, but this northern land is truly harsh. I have to ramp up coal production and install coke-based central heating in the palace right away.)
“Ah… Kakuda-sama…”
Sophia, who had been preparing herself, jumped up in a panic when Kakuda tried to leave the bed.
(She’s trying to serve me… What a noble and earnest girl. She’s nothing like the girl who was gang-raped by revolutionary soldiers and screaming “Hii hii” back then.)
“Fine, stay in bed.”
Kakuda felt a rare, gentle impulse.
“But at least prepare a hot bath with scented steam.”
In the imperial capital, bathing in hot water was a privilege of the upper classes, especially for royalty. The standard was a scented steam bath.
“I don’t have time for that.”
Boiling water and heating scented herbs for a bath would take too long. The raw materials were all imported from the tropics and extremely expensive. The imperial treasury was not endless. Wasting it would deplete it in just a few years.
For Kakuda, a man who had been disappointed with the old world, failure in this new one was something he could not afford even with his life. He quickly changed clothes and headed for the military affairs office.
It was a small building that handled imperial secrets, but because it was impossible for information to leak, the otherworlders had turned it into their government office.
While sipping hot ruby tea, Kakuda handled government work efficiently. From internal administration to military strategy, he was busy from morning to night.
Today he was signing the occupation army commander’s executive order raising the daily wages of live-in servants in the capital: from one silver coin every thirty days to five silver coins over thirty days.
(Rough currency conversion: 1 bit-coin ≈ 100 yen, 1 copper coin ≈ 200–300 yen, 20 copper coins = 1 silver coin ≈ 5,000 yen, 20 silver coins = 1 gold coin ≈ 100,000 yen, 10 gold coins = 1 large gold coin ≈ 1 million yen. A daily meal in the cafeteria was 2–3 copper coins. A day’s wage for a laborer or the price of a prostitute for one night was 1 silver coin. A brothel would charge 3–4 silver coins for a full night. A common slave was worth 4–5 gold coins. A wealthy merchant’s gold-plated carriage with a coachman was worth 5–6 gold coins.)
The upper classes would protest, but Kakuda did not care. Although the poor had enough to eat and sleep, their lives were miserable. Raising their disposable income would expand consumption and stimulate the economy, eventually benefiting the businesses run by the rich. They would realize it eventually. Demand is not born — it is created. When he taught political economy, Kakuda had always been a stubborn Keynesian.
Next, he read reports from feudal lords across the region.
“Uuu… Why is this…”
The situation was not good. According to his calculations, by now 70–80% of the feudal lords should have sworn allegiance to the Republic. Yet only about one-third had actually surrendered. The stubbornness of the regional lords was a headache for Kakuda.
“What do you think, Henry?”
He asked Henry Darger, the peculiar otherworlder political scholar, who was munching on his honey bread for breakfast.
“Well… psychologically, the reason they refuse to surrender is that they have emotional anchors — idols and symbols. The key is to destroy those.”
“So you’re saying we need to keep raping and publicly humiliating the captured Second Princess Charlotte every day? Is one not enough?”
Kakuda suddenly remembered the girl who had been watching him from the bed with a strange, yearning gaze. His chest ached.
(Do I have to make that woman a public plaything for the soldiers again? My… that woman…)
“No, I think even publicly raping the First Princess together with the Queen and the two of them side by side won’t change things.”
Sophia had already understood what he was thinking and answered for him.
“Then what should we do?”
“We have to destroy the imperial symbols and idols of the feudal lords. That’s the fastest way.”
“Hmm… symbols, huh…”
Kakuda fiddled with the jade paperweight on his desk. Suddenly, an idea struck him.
(No way…)
“What is it?”
“If an idol does not have to be a human…”
“Of course not. What people need is emotional support, not a person. An object is fine.”
“Then… could it be…”
Kakuda could not finish his sentence. He ran out of the office like a bolt of lightning and headed straight for the throne room. It was in the storage cabinet behind the throne.
“The Jade Seal…”
It was a faintly blue-white glowing comet stone — the true symbol of the Glünewald Dynasty. The emblem of imperial rule. Kakuda stared at the jade seal for a long moment, then smashed it on the marble floor. He picked up the two pieces. The broken edges were perfectly white.
“It’s marble, not comet stone. This is fake.”
“How did you finally realize?”
When he turned around, Sophia stood there.
“You knew?”
A bitter sadness spread through his chest at the thought of betrayal.
“The Jade Seal was the true symbol of the Sun Empire Glünewald Dynasty. Without it, it was impossible for you to rule the northern lands. No matter how great your military victories, you could not subdue everyone.”
Sophia smiled with an expression Kakuda had never seen before — cunning, almost treacherous. Only then did he understand the true face of the princess.