Editing Tytania:Volume 3 Chapter 9 (section)

=== III ===
It was on the 10<sup>th</sup> of May that Idris summoned his younger brother, Baron Radmoth, to his office once again. For Idris, there simply was no other blood relation to rely upon besides Radmoth.

Zelpha, the youngest brother, respected his eldest brother, but as he was only thirteen years old, Idris could not yet rely on him as a confidant regardless of his future potential. No matter how much dissatisfaction he felt, Idris had no choice but to continue supporting Radmoth.

Zarlisch, who had once been Idris’ rival, had also been troubled by his brother Arses’ lack of talent; however, in this instance, the fact that Ariabert and Jouslain were not burdened by such unworthy brothers was itself a source of irritation for Idris. He felt that they, too, ought to have someone dragging them down!

Idris had prepared about a dozen positions for Radmoth, but he had carefully removed any posts that might grant him excessive actual power. Instead, he chose positions that were not important but were necessary for ceremonial purposes. Radmoth appeared to have noted his brother’s consideration, though he did not outwardly express his gratitude.

Idris cast a bitter look at his brother, who had rejected every position offered to him.

“Radmoth, who do you think would be satisfied with granting you authority? Firstly, you are far too young. Why can you not wait modestly until you are at least twenty?”

“I became the Imperial Guard Commander of the Vardana Empire at seventeen.”

That insolent remark caused Idris to erupt.

“Was that due to your military achievements?! Was it not I who placed you in that position? All you have done is cause unnecessary strife and bring shame upon my face. Do you understand that?!”

“You seem quite desperate to hold that favour over me, Brother, but was it not also for your own convenience?”

“Convenience?”

“I suppose I am nothing more than a tool for you to expand your influence. I know that you despise me. And promoting me is merely a means for you to eventually become Clanner. Must I be blamed so harshly simply because things did not unfold according to your selfishness?”

Idris saw the torches of fury burning in Radmoth’s eyes. A strange chill raced up and down his spine, leaving him at the mercy of his brother’s long-winded tirade.

“I believe I am doing what is best for you in my own way. The very reason you are able to hold actual power in place of the Clanner now is, fundamentally…”

Radmoth suddenly fell silent. It was as if an unseen hand had been placed over his mouth.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It is better not to ask, Brother. If you do, it will only compromise your position.”

“… What are you saying?”

Idris pierced his brother’s face with a fierce gaze once more, yet he realised that a sudden, unprecedented wave of anxiety was rising within him. What on earth was the boy implying with such suggestive words?

Idris observed his brother’s expression anew. Radmoth’s face was dull. It was reminiscent of some kind of reptile. Yet, that very dullness served as armour, concealing Radmoth’s true thoughts. Just as Idris, unable to endure the ominous silence for even a moment longer, prepared to interrogate his brother again, the intercom emitted a low chime. It was unclear which of the brothers had been saved. A message had come from the Clanner’s physician, stating that an injured noble was requesting the presence of Lord Idris.

Idris sent his brother away without having achieved any results and rushed to the Clanner’s sickroom in a state of dread. After receiving instructions from the physician, he attended to the wounded man privately. Without wasting any time on greetings, the Clanner posed a question while remaining reclined in his bed.

“Lord Idris, what has the situation become since then?”

It was a question he had expected, or rather, one that was entirely natural, yet it was one that Idris found truly difficult to answer. He did not lie, but he found himself compelled to embellish the truth.

“In Uraniborg, loyalty to Your Clanner Highness remains entirely unshaken, regardless of rank. In the face of Ariabert and Jouslain, who seek to exploit Your Highness’ misfortune for their own private gain, the people have renewed their vows to burn with righteous indignation and surely punish them…”

A low voice ruthlessly cut through his hollow eloquence.

“Lord Idris.”

“Y-yes.”

“What is the situation outside Uraniborg?”

He could not deceive the Clanner. Even now, Idris realised that. Looking back, the four dukes had always lived under the heavy pressure and sense of subjugation imposed by Clanner Ajman, even as they held him in awe. Furthermore, what the four had previously shared was now a burden that Idris alone had to bear. This realisation required a grim resolve rather than any sense of exaltation.

“Lords Ariabert and Jouslain show no sign of reflection or remorse. On the contrary, it appears they are inciting their subordinate armies and calling upon rebels in various regions to openly raise their banners against Your Clanner Highness.”

His expressionless eyes gazed up at the ceiling. Clanner Ajman remained motionless, like a statue. Idris endured his own voice and the silence that followed, and just as he was on the verge of being unable to bear it any longer, the Clanner finally spoke, his gaze still fixed upon the ceiling:

“Ariabert and Jouslain. Those two… I had intended to grant them both my expectations and my authority.”

“Those two are rebels, Your Highness!”

Facing the wounded Clanner, Idris raised his tone, even while being aware that he was acting somewhat undignified.

“Those two have falsely accused me of placing Your Clanner Highness under house arrest and exercising tyranny. Such base lies are utterly unforgivable.”

“If only that were the truth.”

“Huh…?”

“If you truly possessed such ambition, that single throne would have surely naturally fallen into your hands.”

The Clanner waved his hand faintly toward Idris, who had lost his voice. It was a signal to depart.

As Idris left the infirmary, he stumbled slightly. The waiting physician’s brow twitched at the sight of him looking as though he were intoxicated, but the man wisely avoided making any comment, silently watching the young duke’s retreating figure.