Editing Tytania:Volume 1 Chapter 3 (section)

=== IV ===
The Minister of Military Affairs, Estrade Tytania, was on planet Ryutehi. He was raising his glass, sitting alone in the common room of his magnificent mansion, located barely 500 metres from the main gates of the Imperial Palace.

Though he looked slightly older than his 42 years, his handsome features and imposing stature gave him a bearing that surpassed that of most court nobles. His appearance was befitting of a Tytanian leading figure. His career was equally impressive, and the only thing he lacked compared to the four younger Dukes was their title.

But for him at this moment, honours and prestige were a source of discomfort. From the Minister of Military Affairs’ mouth flowed an endless stream of alcohol scent and low curses directed at Idris Tytania.

Idris was made commander of the Imperial Guard and held the rank of vice-admiral. Estrade was a full admiral and therefore higher than Idris in the military hierarchy. However, the Empire’s ranks took precedence over Tytania’s inner hierarchy. Within Tytania, he was a mere outsider and wasn’t allowed to attend the Supreme Council. But upstarts who were inferior to him in both reputation and experience were seated at the same council table as the Clanner.

In truth, Idris was a greenhorn who had never been of any concern to the Minister of Military Affairs. Whenever he met Estrade, he would stiffen and pay his respects to his senior. And yet, the moment he became a head of one of the Five Families, he grew arrogant and behaved in a manner that spurned the Minister of Military Affairs.

“Damn greenhorn, how dare he…!”

“Is it me whom you call a greenhorn, Father?”

A youthful voice with vitality and cool composure drifted from the doorway. Lifting his gaze from his cup, the Minister of Military Affairs looked at the person who spoke.

His eldest son, Viscount Balamy Tytania stood there holding a bottle of fresh wine. Dressed in a high-class Tytanian military uniform, he was 18 years old and already a commodore. With his golden-brown hair and pale violet eyes, his father believed him to be more intelligent than Jouslain, more handsome than Idris, and took great pride in him.

“I’m obviously not talking about you, but about our most welcome Duke.”

“Speaking of Dukes, hasn’t Duke Ariabert been campaigning for months in a row? While you were in the capital.”

“I am the Minister of Military Affairs. My duty keeps me in the capital to oversee the entire military. Leading fleets into battle is a task best left to mere admirals.”

“Father, do you truly believe what you have just said?”

His son’s voice was gentle but contained something more. A strange glimmer was dancing in his pale violet eyes. The father felt some of his intoxication leaving him, and he cleared his throat.

“What do you want to say? Are you insinuating something?”

Without directly answering his father, Balamy poured a liquid that was the colour of the blood pouring in his veins into a silver goblet. Once he was done pouring, he turned his violet gaze towards his father.

As half-manipulated, the Minister of Military Affairs reached out to take the silver goblet in his hand. A voice rich in rhythm flowed from his son’s lips.

“Five years ago, I believed that I was going to be the Landless Clanner’s son, and my heart was trembling with joy. But that position slipped out of your grasp and fell into the hands of Uncle Ajman. To me, there was no greater disappointment.”

The father groaned. He gulped down from his silver cup.

“Speak no more; it is a done deed.”

“Father, do you not feel a sense of emptiness in your hand?”

“… Balamy!”

“Why are you so startled? It is just something that wasn’t apparent until now. The blood of Tytania favours the blood of the clan. Such it has always been since the second generation’s head, His Highness Nuri.”

This fact that his father was well aware of, Balamy stated with deliberate gravitas.

“It is impossible for a holy person to rule over the universe. The abyss of the stars can only flatter the strong. As for the goddess of fate, she is but a whore.”

The father poured another crimson cascade into his silver goblet, where his son’s gaze fell. With a soft sigh, Balamy continued.

“The one I truly revere is the second-generation head, His Highness Nuri. With all due respect, the first-generation head, His Highness Neville, only knew how to subjugate the masses by force. The true foundation was laid by His Highness Nuri’s hands. And to pursue prosperity and the unity of the clan, he showed no mercy, not even to his own blood relatives…”

Suddenly, the Minister of Military Affairs let out a forced laugh, cutting his son’s eloquent speech. He hurled on the carpet the silver goblet and its half-empty content.

“How strange, Balamy. You never touch a drop of alcohol, but his evening you seem to be even drunker than I am.”

“It is a special skill of mine. Weren’t you aware of it, Father?”

With a calm expression, the son picked up the silver goblet his father had thrown. Casting a cold glance at the nebula-like stain that was spreading across the carpet, he returned the goblet to his father with a smile. As if he were rolling in the palm of his hands like a ball, his father’s state of mind, he whispered with even more fervour.

“If you are at peace with the fact that you didn’t become the Clanner, then there is no need for me to say anything. But Father, are you truly at peace with that? From the bottom, do you truly believe that your abilities are inferior to those of your younger brother?”

“I told you to shut up.”

Though he was giving an order, the voice of Estrade Tytania was feeble. He was no coward. Either in the usual meaning of the word or in the one given by Clanner Ajman to Jouslain. And yet, though he didn’t want to admit it, at that moment cold sweat was trickling down the walls of his heart.

There was a deep and vast chasm between discontent and rebellion. Leaping across it required no small amount of mental energy, and it was precisely what the court nobles of the Vardana Empire lacked. And even for the Minister of Military Affairs, the Marquis Estrade Tytania, the leap was by no means easy.

The son observed his father’s internal conflict with detachment but eventually resumed his dreadful persuasion. He did not appeal to his father’s courage but to his fear.

“Are you content to grow old like this?”

That question was a terrifying pronouncement.

“If I may be bold to say so, Father, you are already over forty and well into the second half of your life. You cannot possibly compete with the next generation’s Four Dukes to become the Clanner. In twenty years, the Four Dukes will still be in their forties, while you will be in your sixties, and it is unheard of in our history for the successor to be older than the current head of the family. No one would support it.”

The Minister of Military Affairs felt his deepest convictions being laid bare by his son. He took a deep breath and attempted a cunning-sounding reply.

“To begin with, why do you think that I desire the title of Clanner?”

But that was not enough to intimidate his son.

“Tytanian blood taught me that much. It tells me that rather than stand by and watch, I should take it by force. That blood comes from you, Father. How could I fail to understand your heart?”

Estrade felt defeat. It wasn’t accompanied by a sense of humiliation but a lightness as if he had removed some armour of Antiquity.

“Being ambitious is good. But achieving it is not easy. It requires extraordinary resolve. Do you understand?”

His voice sounded like the creaks of an armour being cast aside.

“I’ll tell you this: the courtiers of Vardana cannot be trusted. I suspect they are trying to use me, but the moment things become dangerous, they will betray me in an instant. I need to find other allies than these guys.”

“Yes, Father, I am well aware.”

“None of the Four Dukes are ordinary men. Never underestimate them. Especially not Duke Jouslain. He is a man of curious depth.”

“Since you are talking in this fashion, Father, can I assume that we are of the same mind? I can take it to mean so, can’t I?”

The demand was clear. Or rather, though phrased as a question, it was a statement of fact. At that juncture, Estrade seemed to falter for a moment, but it was just a moment. With dignity, the Minister of Military Affairs nodded.

“Even if I tried to restrain you, you wouldn’t stay still. I shall go with you. But let me say this again. This is no easy path. Even if you start having regrets, you can’t go back midway.”

Thus, Marquis Estrade Tytania, the Minister of Military Affairs of the Vardana Empire, was dragged along by his son as he set foot on a bloody path.