Editing Tytania:Volume 3 Chapter 4 (section)

=== IV ===
On the 10<sup>th</sup> of February, Ariabert’s resignation reached Uraniborg.

Idris, who had taken such pleasure in gloating over the failures of others and had never ceased his relentless pursuit of Ariabert’s accountability, curled his lip in a sneer upon hearing that Ariabert was resigning his post as commander-in-chief of the expeditionary force. His brow twitched slightly when he heard that Ariabert intended to relinquish all military authority. Finally, when he learned that Ariabert was also withdrawing from the Council of the Five Families to devote himself entirely to house arrest, Idris could no longer remain silent.

“What on earth is he thinking? Does that bastard Ariabert intend to become a hermit? Does he think he can simply punish himself and call it settled, without even waiting for His Clanner Highness’ verdict!”

Primarily, Idris might have been frustrated at being robbed of the pleasure of berating Ariabert, but that was certainly not the only reason. It could be said that the abrupt and absolute nature of Ariabert’s withdrawal had sent shock-waves through all of Uraniborg.

Lord Ariabert resigned from all public offices, relinquished his military authority, and withdrew from the Council of the Five Families, the supreme decision-making body. This meant that Ariabert was retreating significantly from the race amongst the dukes vying for the next position of Clanner.

The high-ranking officers of the Tytania military exchanged heated opinions in their excitement.

“They say Lord Ariabert failed in his mission, but then who exactly could have succeeded?”

“He did not fail in the first place. He forced the Bargash government into submission without bloodshed through sheer display of military might. It was a magnificent success.”

“It was unfortunate that he was outmanoeuvred by those bandits, Fan Hyulick and his gang, but that is a small matter. His past achievements more than compensate for it.”

“Even so, I wonder what will become of things from here on.”

In the end, this opinion served as the final summary, and the soldiers merely shrugged their shoulders and fell silent. To verbalise and express anything further was dangerous within Tytania. Yet, in truth, who could possibly replace Lord Ariabert?

Under normal circumstances, Idris should have gone to the planet Bargash in Ariabert’s stead to command from the front lines. This was even more pertinent given that Idris himself had explicitly stated his intention to do so in the past. However, Idris had no choice but to avoid such an occurrence.

Of course, it was not that he lacked the courage to go to the battlefield. Rather, it was political calculation that constrained his actions. With Zarlisch permanently removed from the Council of the Five Families, if Ariabert were to withdraw indefinitely, and if Idris himself were to depart for distant Bargash, then only Clanner Ajman and Jouslain would remain in Uraniborg. For Idris, such a move would be tantamount to leaving his own fate in the hands of his political rivals.

“I cannot simply stand by and allow them to decide whatever they please in my absence. I cannot leave Uraniborg.”

Idris had made his decision. However, that left the question of who would succeed Ariabert.

“Perhaps I shall simply nominate Jouslain as Ariabert’s successor. Whether he is truly up to the task or not will be amusing to see.”

It seemed like a good idea. However, Idris found himself forced to hastily reject his own proposal. If Jouslain were to become the acting commander-in-chief of the expeditionary force, he would naturally have to travel to the planet Bargash to meet with the bedridden Ariabert. There is no telling what the two of them might plot at that moment. Idris, being a man possessed of many political machinations himself, had a tendency to view his rivals through such a lens.

As far as he was concerned, he absolutely had to prevent an alliance between Ariabert and Jouslain. Nevertheless, he found himself unable to employ the tactic of siding with one to oust the other. He had shown far too much hostility towards both of them up until this point. Even if he were to propose a joint struggle to either of them now, he would likely only be met with a derisive rejection. Perhaps he should have been more cunning by concealing his competitive spirit more effectively. Idris wanted to click his tongue in frustration.

“Damn that Ariabert, he is far more difficult to deal with than I anticipated. Even though he was thoroughly defeated by Fan Hyulick’s faction and failed his mission, no one even points that fact out.”

On the contrary, sympathy both within and outside Tytania was concentrating on Ariabert, and his reputation was actually rising. Had Ariabert calculated things that far in advance? If so, he was far more than just a mere warrior; he was a considerable strategist. For Idris, who had regarded Ariabert as easy to handle, this was a source of unavoidable anxiety and bewilderment.

It was his younger brother Radmoth who went out of his way to provoke that bewilderment. The younger brother had a knack for saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“It simply means that Lord Ariabert lost again and was forced to take the blame. Since your competitor has been removed from the race, shouldn’t you be celebrating, brother?”

“You are the one who should be celebrating.”

Idris spat the words out in the height of displeasure. While Radmoth’s simple optimism irritated him, Idris was, above all else, angry with himself.

In any event, Ariabert had moved one step away from his supreme position. Seizing upon this opportunity, Idris wished to devise a plan to widen the gap between the Clanner’s throne and Ariabert even further. However, the reality was that he could not grasp Ariabert’s true intentions, nor could he predict Jouslain’s response; as a result, he found himself unable to actively employ stratagems to strengthen his own position. Idris was dissatisfied with his own somewhat regressive attitude.

Even so, during the meeting of the Council of the Five Families on the 11<sup>th</sup> of February, Idris interrogated Ariabert with sharp intensity, demanding he take responsibility. He argued that Ariabert had fallen headlong into the bandits’ cunning schemes, resulting in a defeat—albeit a small-scale one—that cost the lives of subordinates and, above all, tarnished the honour of Tytania. Furthermore, Idris claimed that Ariabert’s attempt to abandon the position and authority entrusted to him by His Clanner Highness was utterly preposterous. He asserted that such irresponsibility was unforgivable and that appropriate disciplinary measures should be imposed. That was the argument he put forward.

In such instances, the Clanner usually remained silent and let Jouslain handle the matter. Having listened to the conclusion of Idris’ argument, he slowly opened his mouth:

“At first, you demand that Lord Ariabert take full responsibility. But you also criticise him for resigning from his public office. I wonder, Lord Idris, what manner of actions from Lord Ariabert would earn praise from you?”

Watching the colour drain from Idris’ face, Jouslain self-reflected. His own nature was even more ill-tempered; he knew exactly how to say things that would wound others, yet he made no effort to avoid doing so. That said, it was also an undeniable fact that he could not bring himself to feel any true affection for this cousin who was three years his junior.

After three or four rounds of fruitless exchange, the Clanner declared the morning meeting adjourned, announcing that proceedings would resume at five in the afternoon. Lately, the Clanner had shown a tendency to avoid reaching immediate conclusions.

Idris left the room with a hint of indignation, and as Jouslain prepared to follow, the Clanner called him back. While that steel-like expression had not yet shown any cracks, one might have been able to detect a microscopic trace of bewilderment in the voice that addressed him:

“To submit his resignation before even facing censure; I do not believe such a notion was ever present in Lord Ariabert in the past…”

“It is as you say.”

“Did someone plant ideas in Lord Ariabert’s head?”

“Who can say…”

Jouslain did not state it aloud as a certainty, but he suspected that was not the case. He thought that perhaps it was the utterly unwelcome defeat and the subsequent time spent in his sickbed that had caused Ariabert to undergo a psychological metamorphosis.

Ariabert had fallen victim to the wiles of Fan Hyulick for the second time. Compared to the first defeat, the stage was smaller, and the losses were less significant. However, it must have delivered a fatal blow to the loser’s pride; had the person involved been Zarlisch or Idris, they would surely have been tormented by frenzied rage and humiliation.

Ariabert had managed to weather it. He accepted defeat with composure and took responsibility in a manner that no one could have ever imagined. More precisely, he had managed to convince others of his method of taking responsibility. While Idris’ opinion, “Can this really be called taking responsibility?” was correct in one respect, the fact that anyone hearing it would perceive it as nothing more than Idris’ malice was perhaps a reflection of Idris’ own lack of virtue.

Jouslain returned to his office. He had intended to approve eight documents during the morning, write a letter to Ariabert, and have lunch with Princess Lydia and Francia. However, at 10:50, his modest plans were interrupted. A guest had arrived.

A woman once beautiful, now adorned like a peacock. It was Duchess Theresa Tytania. By protocol, she was Jouslain’s aunt. Upon being formally ushered into the drawing room, the Duchess opened her garishly painted lips:

“It seems Ariabert has finally found the courage to act like a man and take responsibility. He really should have taken responsibility after his first defeat. He truly is a boy devoid of any decisiveness.”

This noblewoman, who enjoyed the greatest freedom of speech in this vast space city, prattled on, the excess flesh of her cheeks and chin trembling as she spoke. Though she had come to seek Jouslain’s assistance in securing formally her duchy, she spoke of the absent Ariabert as if she had forgotten her primary purpose.

“His mother’s upbringing must have been poor. She was a most slovenly woman, after all.”

“Duchess, please, let us not speak of the deceased so lightly.”

“Oh, Jouslain, what a polite boy you are. Though, one could argue that politeness is merely another name for hypocrisy.”

“…”

“Jouslain, I don’t believe you would ever defend that woman, would you? After all, she forced both you and your mother to swallow bitter pills. In the first place…”

“Duchess!”

Jouslain’s voice struck Lady Theresa’s lips like an invisible whip. After a momentary shudder, the Duchess glared at Jouslain with dissatisfaction, but as she sensed the strength of will embedded in his deep eyes, she shuddered once more. She let out an exaggerated cough to shake off her dread.

After a silence of about two seconds, Jouslain restored a polite mildness to his voice.

“More importantly, there is something I wish to ask you, Duchess.”

“And what might that be?”

“You have never before made any political demands, so why are you suddenly seeking power of late? It seems to me quite unnecessary.”

Theresa Tytania did not answer immediately. A cunning light flickered in her eyes, and once it had vanished, she spoke in a voice that sounded performative.

“That is quite unlike you, Jouslain. It is obvious, isn’t it? It is because my dear Zarlisch met such an unhappy end. Had that boy only lived, I could have entrusted him both my house and the Tytania Clan as a whole with peace of mind.”

For the very first time, Jouslain felt he was hearing the words of a mother lacking in sincerity. Nearly everyone in the clan knew that Lady Theresa favoured her second son, Arses, and remained cold towards her eldest, Zarlisch. The expression “dear Zarlisch” carried an immensely grotesque ring to it. That grotesqueness likely ran through the very lineage of the entire Tytania Clan. Rule by blood. The politicisation of selfish genes<ref name="ftn17">“Selfish gene” (利己的遺伝子) is pronounced “selfish gene”.</ref>. The monopoly of power by a single family. That horror stood before Jouslain, expressed through a garish symbol.

Furthermore, she was undoubtedly a broken mirror, reflecting distorted images of Jouslain himself and Ariabert. He allowed the image of Ariabert’s mother—the woman who was, to Jouslain, his mother’s own sister—to flicker through his mind before using his will to cast the vision out of his consciousness.

“So, Duchess, is it that you have awakened to your sense of mission as a member of the Tytania main line?”

“In any case, it is impossible for just the three of you to decide the supreme will of Tytania, Jouslain. If we do not fill the vacancies with the correct individuals, a rebellious opportunist will surely appear. For the time being, why not let me, a member of the legitimate bloodline, sit in that seat, and then we can carry out a proper, permanent appointment later?”

''She has a point'', thought Jouslain. And ironically, it was that very point that aroused his suspicion. Lady Theresa was not lacking in intelligence, but she was a person who could not restrain her emotions and desires with reason.

Unlike Ariabert, there was little possibility that Lady Theresa would achieve a meteoric growth or awakening. The only conceivable explanation, to borrow the phrasing of Clanner Ajman, was that “someone had planted ideas” in her. It was at this moment that Jouslain clearly perceived that there was someone standing behind Lady Theresa.

… At almost the same time, Idris, who viewed Jouslain as an obstacle to his succession to the Clanner throne, sat ensconced on the sofa in his private room, lost in thought as he warmed a brandy glass in his palm.

To form an alliance with Zarlisch’s mother, that noblewoman driven by nothing but obsession and greed. It filled Idris with such dread that the mere thought of it sent a wave of nausea through his stomach, as if he had been forced to swallow cheap alcohol.

What Idris desired was the supreme power of Tytania. It was the throne of the cosmic hegemon, the seat of the ruler of human society. It was a position so magnificent and sublime that it inspired dread, and the struggle to attain it ought to be equally magnificent and sublime. Be that as it may. So how pathetic it was that he had to establish an alliance with someone who could not even grasp the true value of the Clanner’s throne.

Yet, if that was the best way to obtain it…

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