Chapter 388: Rejoice, the Imperial Grandchild Has Arrived! (2)
0% Corvus Amanca Livnoman of Kefellofen, commonly known as Amanca XVI. He was the current Emperor of the Kefellofen Empire and a legendary wise ruler who led the empire back to prosperity when it was on the brink of collapse.
Some nobles revered him so much that they even proposed bestowing upon him the title of Great Emperor, an honor previously granted only to Amanca the First. Others suggested changing future emperors’ middle names from Amanca to Corvus to honor his unmatched legacy. Truly, his status was beyond words.
However, even this Emperor had a fatal weakness: he was Kefellofen’s first emperor from a branch line rather than the direct lineage.
Granted, a distant branch at that.
Honestly, the current Emperor was too far removed from the throne. His identity as a noble was probably stronger than his identity as a member of the imperial family.
However, through relentless political struggles among the direct royal family, high infant mortality due to strong medicine but weak healthcare, and low birthrates within the imperial household, the direct lineage of Livnoman spectacularly self-destructed to the point where the current Emperor, a mere count, ascended to the throne.
The Emperor, who had been on the throne for decades with this legitimacy issue, wanted at least his successor to be a legitimate heir. But sadly, his legitimate heir was the 2nd Prince, who looked like he was picked up from under a bridge.
It’s still absurd when I think about it. How on earth did such a bastard come from the Emperor?
The Crown Prince should have been the legitimate heir.
Thanks to this, the imperial family faced the unprecedented situation of lacking legitimacy for two generations in a row. The Emperor suppressed his rising curses and purged the 2nd Prince’s faction, but—as of today, the imperial family had found light, escaping from its chronic weakness.
By Enen’s grace and the Great Emperor’s blessing, a noble heir has been born to the Imperial House. Let all those who serve the Empire rejoice in the birth of the legitimate descendant of Livnoman.
I reread the group message from my communication crystal.
The first child of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess had been born while the emperor was still alive. Gender didn’t matter in Kefellofen, where an Empress had already once ascended the throne. All that mattered was being the firstborn.
The emperor would undoubtedly soon name this child as the Imperial Heir, cementing their legitimacy. Once the Crown Prince ascends the throne, this grandchild would become Crown Prince or Crown Princess. It was the perfect succession plan that nobody could contest.
So a day like this has come.
I felt like crying. Setting aside the fact that the Crown Prince, a man who’d seemed utterly incapable of human feelings, now had a child, an ultimate legitimate heir had been born to the imperial family that was embroiled in succession disputes just a few years ago. As a civil servant who’d endured that painful chaos, I couldn’t help but feel emotional.
...Looks like my future might actually be peaceful.
This was the desperate hope of a civil servant who hoped that no major incidents would occur during their tenure—whether it was in my pre-possession world or this one.
***By dawn the next day, the Academy announced a three-day closure to celebrate the imperial heir’s birth. It meant students would pause their studies to share the empire’s joy.
Moreover, the Emperor was so pleased with the birth of the imperial grandchild that not only the Academy students but also administrative civil servants received a three-day holiday order. Indeed, His Majesty the Emperor was wise and merciful.
Yes. Truly wise and merciful, but...
“What gift should we present to the imperial grandchild?”
“Just send silk. She’ll grow quickly, so she’ll be changing outfits often anyway.”
“That’s true.”
While Civil Servant Carl got a vacation, Count Carl of Wiridia was working normally.
Damn it.
I felt like crying for a different reason than yesterday. With everyone—myself and my lovers included—on holiday, it should have been the perfect time for dates. But as a titled noble and heir to an imperial count, I couldn’t ignore the birth of the imperial grandchild.
So here I was, first thing in the morning, back in the capital urgently discussing gifts for the new heir with the Minister.
“Oh, since they said she’s a beautiful daughter resembling Her Highness the Crown Princess, we should go with blue silk. House Nuren always favored blue attire.”
“At least the color choice is clear, then.”
I felt a bit relieved now that the broad category of silk and the specific category of color blue had been decided. The biggest issue with gifts was always deciding what to give—once the decision was made, it was easy.
Resembles the Crown Princess, huh?
And at the Minister’s words, I recalled the Imperial Military Headquarters I saw on the way to the Ministry of Finance’s building. No wonder they were setting off fireworks from the morning. The Invincible Duke seemed ecstatic about the birth of a granddaughter who resembled his daughter.
In truth, there was much to celebrate. Publicly, the imperial family gained greater stability; personally, it was the birth of his cute granddaughter.
“She will become the fourth empress of the empire, then.”
“That’s right.”
The Minister nodded and agreed with my words. Ever since Amanca the Great until now, Kefellofen had already crowned three empresses. With so many precedents, no noble would dare utter nonsense like, ‘How can a woman inherit the throne?’
To begin with, two of the current five Dukes were women. Objecting to female succession in these times would be no different from social suicide.
“Well, for the gift, blue silk and maybe a small tiara to go with—“
Just as I was about to wrap up the discussion, the communication crystal in my pocket suddenly vibrated.
I felt a twinge of unease. It could simply be an ordinary work message or even something personal, but the timing was suspiciously ominous.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
After quickly apologizing, I checked the new message—and immediately had to stop myself from squeezing my eyes shut.
Come to the Crown Prince’s Palace. I have something to discuss with the Executive Manager.
That bastard. He just had a daughter—shouldn’t he be busy shedding tears of joy or something? Why is he dragging his poor subordinate into this?
***If heaven truly existed, it must feel something like this.
“Crown Princess. See how our little one has all her tiny fingers?”
At those words, the Crown Princess smiled softly and gazed lovingly at our daughter, who lay asleep beside her on the bed, gently wriggling as she dreamed.
She’s an angel. An angel who took off her wings and nestled in our arms. There’s no other way to explain that cuteness and elegance.
“Don’t be so noisy.”
While I was lost in the bliss of fatherhood, the Emperor’s quiet, stern voice snapped me back to reality. I had been so absorbed by my daughter that I momentarily forgot his presence.
“What will you do if you wake the child?”
But looking closely, his gaze also couldn’t leave our daughter. Though his expression was as cold as ever, his words weren’t about preserving my dignity but rather genuine concern that the baby might wake up.
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