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CHAPTER 70
Duke Wentworth stepped down from the podium with a confident stride.
As he returned to his seat, he gave Vincent a sidelong glance — the kind that said he clearly saw the much younger man as an inexperienced upstart.
Even though I trusted Vincent as the story’s male lead, I had to admit that Duke Wentworth’s speech had been more persuasive than expected, which made me a little tense.
But the moment Vincent rose from his seat, I realized my concern had been needless.
He dominates the room just by standing.
Even men around him couldn’t help but stare, their mouths slightly open.
It reminded me again of how shallow surface impressions could be.
As soon as Vincent stood at the podium, the entire chamber fell silent.
Every time his emerald eyes swept across the audience, I could feel the tension ripple through the seated nobles.
“Honorable nobles, and citizens of the Empire.”
At the sound of Vincent’s low, steady voice, I unconsciously straightened in my chair.
He paused, letting his gaze drift calmly around the room.
He was a man born to command attention.
Truly, the perfect male lead.
“We are gathered here for the prosperity and stability of our Empire.
And I have no intention of denying the intent behind Duke Wentworth’s proposed amendment.
The noble houses do indeed form the backbone of the Empire, and I, as one of its royal members, express my sincere gratitude and agreement with the effort to preserve our legacy.”
His words seemed to align with Duke Wentworth’s argument, but in truth, it was a deliberate tactic to lower the nobles’ guard.
“But.”
Vincent emphasized the word, his tone calm yet firm.
“Good intentions aside, we must also think deeply about the consequences of this amendment.”
He intentionally broke his sentences into short pauses — saying think carefully and then giving everyone time to actually think.
I found myself curious, eager to see how he would counter Duke Wentworth’s points.
“This tax reform is not merely about reducing property and inheritance taxes.
The proposed increases in goods and income taxes will, in the end, place new burdens not only on the citizens of the Empire, but also on you, the nobles.”
His gaze swept briefly across the hall.
As Vincent introduced this new angle, the nobles began to shift in their seats, listening more closely now.
“Not every noble in our Empire is wealthy.
There are houses managing small fiefs, and families that have faced economic hardship in recent years.
If goods and income taxes rise, that burden will not fall on the citizens alone.
The prices of food and other necessities will climb, and to sustain your estates, you too will bear those increased costs.”
I couldn’t help but be impressed.
I had expected him to appeal to the plight of the commoners, but then I remembered — everyone here was a noble.
To win their support, he had to show their losses.
His next words carried a tone of genuine concern for the audience.
“This amendment, born from a desire to protect wealth, may in fact raise the costs of running your lands and lead to even greater financial strain.
In the long term, it will surely harm the nobility as a whole.”
Vincent paused to observe the crowd’s reaction.
Some nobles tilted their heads thoughtfully, while others furrowed their brows, deep in contemplation.
“Furthermore, I believe this amendment risks distorting the Empire’s economic structure.
Increasing goods and income taxes will deepen the economic inequality between merchants and laborers.
Wealthy nobles may endure the burden, but merchants, commoners, and lesser nobles will face direct economic pressure.
This will only worsen relations between the nobility and the people — and ultimately destabilize the Empire’s economy.”
When his speech ended, the assembly hall was silent.
Vincent’s words did not attack the nobility, but instead reflected a rational concern for their long-term prosperity.
“The Empire’s stability depends on harmony among all who sustain it.
For the pillars of the noble class to stand firm, the economic foundation of the people and the fiefs beneath them must remain in balance.
Without that, no honor or tradition can last.”
Vincent ended calmly, his gaze sweeping across the room one last time.
His argument wasn’t emotional; it was logical, composed, and elegantly dismantled the Duke’s proposal.
As he stepped down, low murmurs began to spread through the hall.
Some exchanged glances and gestures; others scribbled notes on parchment.
Duke Wentworth’s face remained outwardly calm, but the flicker of displeasure beneath it was unmistakable.
Vincent didn’t look his way — he didn’t need to.
His confidence said enough.
“…He’s incredible.”
For the first time, I found myself thinking that Vincent, the male lead, was truly dazzling.
So this is what it means for someone to shine.
Once Vincent had fully returned to his seat, attendants pulled the podium aside.
The scraping noise marked the start of a rising buzz — the nobles’ voices filled the entire chamber like a hive of bees.
I tried to focus, listening carefully to the bits of conversation around me.
“His Highness Vincent makes a fair point.”
“If we raise the goods tax, it’ll cause confusion among merchants.
That trouble will end up in our own lands.”
“But Duke Wentworth’s reform is the only way to preserve the traditions we’ve upheld for generations, isn’t it?”
The nobles’ voices clashed from every direction.
Some tapped their fingers in thought; others nodded or shook their heads as they weighed one another’s opinions.
The tension didn’t ease.
It tangled and grew.
Vincent lifted his head, quietly surveying the entire chamber — as if he were watching the ripple his words had created.
Duke Wentworth still sat straight-backed, but a faint grimace crossed his face before he masked it again, turning to whisper a few words to his supporters.
They nodded encouragingly, and the Duke smiled, regaining his composure.
Servants hurried into the center of the hall, setting out the materials needed for the vote — papers, boxes, and the rest.
I quietly watched the nobles continue their exchanges, studying their tones and gestures to guess where their loyalties lay.
The imperial faction, which supported Vincent, reacted positively to his speech.
Meanwhile, the aristocratic faction loyal to Duke Wentworth remained firm in defense of his position.
Still, I knew the truth.
No matter how freely they debated, the outcome of the vote would ultimately depend on factions and private deals.
Most nobles would cast their ballots not by conviction, but by allegiance.
The discussion had its purpose, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit of disappointment as I watched.
I turned to look toward Vincent.
Though he sat some distance away, I could see him resting a finger on a document, listening to Oscar speak beside him.
I must have been staring, curious about his calm expression, when suddenly he turned his head — and met my eyes.
