Editing Tytania:Volume 3 Chapter 2 (section)

=== II ===
Balamy’s heart leapt when he was informed that mail had arrived from Uraniborg. He had felt a certain premonition. While he tried to remind himself that it would be miserable if he raised his hopes only to be disappointed, he inserted the 3D video cassette into the projector. Two and a half seconds later, the image of a lively and spirited young girl appeared before him.

''“Bal, are you well? I am doing fine. Indeed. I don’t even have any cavities. Isn’t that commendable of me?”''

Princess Lydia smiled at Balamy from the screen, showing off her healthy, white teeth. Balamy nodded weakly. He could not help but flush with shame at his own naivety, having allowed himself to believe for two and a half seconds that this might be a summons.

''“Are you disappointed, Bal?”''

“No, Princess, not at all.”

Balamy found himself answering the image reflexively, as if his very thoughts were being peered into, and clicked his tongue in irritation once he realised what he had done. It was utterly ridiculous that a young man with such ambitions, who aimed for the highest rank in Tytania and, by extension, dominion over the entire universe, should be moved by the words of a little girl.

''“Uraniborg is lonely without you, Bal. I have no friends here, so it is boring. Let’s see… how is Tyron? Is it fun?”''

“It is not fun,” Balamy replied silently to himself.

''“Bal, you pick fights even when you don’t have to. I like fighting too, but you’re better off avoiding it. Make allies instead of enemies. You only have Lord Jouslain and me on your side, don’t you? Get along with everyone, and come back to Uraniborg soon. Lord Jouslain says the same thing.”''

The letter ended with the image of Princess Lydia waving her hand. Balamy paused, his hand halfway to retrieving the cassette, and sat back down in his chair.

“Get along with everyone, huh?…”

Balamy muttered, his voice thick with deliberate disdain. “How nice it must be to be simple like a child”, he remarked aloud. Suddenly, he realised the age gap between himself and Princess Lydia. Only eight years ago, he had been the same age as her. On the other hand, Lord Jouslain, whom he secretly regarded as his true rival, was nine years his senior. Balamy was closer in age to Princess Lydia than he was to Jouslain. It left him feeling a strange, sudden urge to reflect upon his own immaturity and lack of strength.

After lunch, Balamy visited the office of the resident representative. Balamy had heard that resident representatives in such lands generally fell into one of two types. There were the ambitious young upstarts who viewed the position merely as a starting point. And then there were the elders who accepted the seat as their final destination. The current representative, Mr&nbsp;Christopher Emerson, belonged to the latter type. He was by no means incompetent or regressive, but he was a man who believed that steadfastness and safety were the highest virtues and an apostle of conservatism with a profound loyalty to authority.

Thirty years Balamy’s senior, he treated the young Tytania nobleman exactly as was his custom. He was polite and courteous. But he granted him no actual authority. He did not seek to form any personal friendship, either. To make him do so, Balamy would have had to take the initiative to approach him. Of course, an overbearing attitude would yield nothing, as barren as frozen earth. Thus, Balamy conducted the negotiations by enveloping his noble prestige within an atmosphere of cordiality.

“I shall return to the heart of Tytania in the latter half of this year. It will be at the behest of Lord Jouslain. To that end, and also in accordance with Lord Jouslain’s wishes, I wish to collect and analyse information regarding the anti-Tytania faction. I ask for your cooperation.”

He had not misused Jouslain’s name; he had made good use of it. Regarding that point, Balamy felt no guilt. It went without saying that from the moment he had first arrived on this planet, he must have been perceived as Jouslain’s partisan. Even if Jouslain himself had no intention of forming a faction, to any outsider, it appeared as though a distinct political group had been established. After all, Balamy was Jouslain’s senior ''aide-de-camp'' and his kinsman. It was expected that he held great trust, and that even should he stumble once more, his future remained highly promising.

Even if he had no intention of showing personal favour towards Balamy, he would certainly calculate how to earn a debt of gratitude from Jouslain. Mr&nbsp;Emerson’s thought process was steadfast and rational, making him quite easy for Balamy to read. If an equation formed in his mind where the statistical probability of Lord Jouslain becoming the next Tytania Clanner exceeded fifty-one percent, Mr&nbsp;Emerson would be inclined to cooperate with Balamy.

The equation held true. Mr&nbsp;Emerson allowed his solemn expression to soften, praised Balamy’s enthusiasm and vision with measured words, and declared that he would offer his cooperation, “provided it does not compromise your other duties within the delegation”. It seemed he had required some time for a final verification, but the fact that an answer was obtained within the day suggested that it had not been such a difficult problem to solve.

Balamy pondered on this with a touch of irony, but of course, he expressed his polite gratitude for the representative’s goodwill and understanding aloud. At the same time, he told himself. For the time being, he must act as a partisan of Lord Jouslain and secure his own position, and he must never neglect the effort to make it appear so.

Balamy thought of his late father, the Marquis Estrade. There was a pain in his chest, but the wound had long since dried. Once, Balamy had sought to satisfy his own ambition and vigour by elevating his father to the highest office. It felt as though a vast amount of time had passed since then, yet not even a single year had elapsed. In that time, he had learnt one thing. That the path of ambition and the shortest route are almost never the same.

On that very day, Balamy secured the right to access the delegation’s main computer and installed a terminal in his room; he had considered adding triple encryption but decided against it. If Mr&nbsp;Emerson set his mind to it, there were plenty of ways to bypass such locks, and Balamy felt it would be better to maintain an attitude of complete trust in him for the time being. As Princess Lydia had said, he should “get along with everyone”. It certainly seemed better to maintain that pretence.

Less than twenty minutes after he had begun the collection and analysis, without much expectation, Balamy stumbled upon some bizarre information. Balamy held his breath as he spotted the name of Duke Idris Tytania displayed on the screen.

''“What is this? This is utterly preposterous.”''

That was his first thought. Balamy held no affection for Lord Idris or his brother. If Idris were to meet his ruin in any manner, he would likely feel quite pleased. However, could one truly believe such a “rumour” that “Lord Idris is conspiring with the Blaze Flag Army to orchestrate the downfall of Lord Ariabert and intends to assassinate Clanner Ajman to seize control over all of Tytania in a single stroke”?

As Balamy moved his elbow, he knocked the teacup sitting at the edge of the console<ref name="ftn5">“Console” (操作卓) is pronounced “console”.</ref> onto the floor, leaving him to pick up the shards. A sharp fragment pricked the tip of his left ring finger, creating a tiny red spot. With a childish gesture, Balamy placed his fingertip into his mouth.

''“Yet, information is information.”''

Currents of thought raced through Balamy’s neural circuits. It was not that he was intentionally trying to frame Idris; the information simply existed as a fact. That Idris was conspiring with the anti-Tytania faction, seeking to topple Clanner Ajman and seat himself in the supreme position—that was information. Should he not report this candidly?

However, it was also a well-known fact that a rift existed between Balamy and the Idris siblings in years past. Even if the information were true, others would likely perceive it as Balamy providing false reports in an attempt to entrap Idris out of personal malice. Idris would certainly claim as much, and Clanner Ajman would likely find such an argument convincing.

If that were the case, Balamy would be the one to face charges for falsely accusing the duke. Having already incurred his displeasure and been banished from Uraniborg, any further disciplinary action would likely involve the stripping of his title or being driven away to some even more remote and uncultivated star system. Should that happen, Balamy would find it impossible to ever rise again in life as long as the Tytania Faction existed. He might even find himself with no choice but to defect to the Anti-Tytania Faction.

Balamy might find his true mettle tested by the single question of how to handle this information. He could not afford to act carelessly. However, the greatest folly would be if, while he sat idly holding onto the news, someone else delivered it to Uraniborg, causing the tides of power to shift. At that moment, the information Balamy harboured would turn to bitter regret, leaving him with nothing to do but curse his own indecision and incompetency. He would reproach himself for having possessed the power to alter the speed and direction of history with his own hands, only to let the opportunity slip away through a lack of courage.

Balamy realised something and was struck with dread. While he held an advantage in terms of acquiring information, he did not possess an exceptionally privileged position. The very fact that Balamy had managed to obtain this information meant that the information itself was known within a certain scope. The possibility that someone might send the information to Uraniborg ahead of Balamy was becoming extremely high. Should that happen, Balamy would inevitably be denounced for having failed to relay information that he ought to have disclosed.

There was only one solution. Balamy was powerless, and his only recourse was to pass the information to a powerful ally and entrust the decision to them. In other words, regardless of his emotions or ulterior motives, Balamy had no choice but to rely on Jouslain.