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CHAPTER 72
It was practically an open vote, but the Emperor didn’t seem to care.
“Go ahead. I don’t mind,” he said to his attendant.
The attendant bowed and placed the Emperor’s ballot on the “against” side.
The Emperor had sided with Vincent.
With Vincent’s faction trailing by fifteen votes, the Emperor’s twenty votes completely flipped the outcome.
“The Crown Prince won!”
“So the amendment’s been rejected? Wow.”
At that moment, Duke Wentworth finally couldn’t hold back and rose from his seat.
“Your Majesty, you have a duty to remain neutral! For the balance of the nobility—!”
The Emperor slowly turned to look at Duke Wentworth.
His gaze was calm but firm, filled with unmistakable resolve.
“Neutrality on a swaying scale is nothing more than irresponsibility, don’t you think?
For the Empire’s stability, there are times when I must choose.
Is there a law that forbids the Emperor from casting his vote, Duke Wentworth?”
Duke Wentworth was momentarily at a loss for words.
His face twisted for an instant, but he forced himself to regain composure and pressed his lips together.
The nobles who had been murmuring fell silent.
The Emperor’s decision was, after all, the Empire’s decision.
The attendants added the Emperor’s twenty votes, finalizing the count.
Duke Wentworth’s proposed tax reform bill was officially rejected.
“With this, the tax reform proposal is dismissed!”
The attendant’s announcement echoed across the assembly hall.
Vincent’s supporters sighed quietly in relief and exchanged glances.
Meanwhile, Duke Wentworth’s faction stood in heavy silence.
At that moment, Duke Wentworth’s face hardened.
He slowly turned, trying to meet the eyes of his supporters, but they all avoided him.
Then he turned toward the spectator’s gallery—toward me, Amelia.
“……”
His sharp gaze pierced through me, filled with suspicion, distrust, and a grim sense of foreboding.
He seemed to want to say something but stopped himself.
Instead, he turned away, his face drawn with anger and frustration.
With that, Duke Wentworth left the chamber with his followers.
His steps, usually dignified, felt heavy—like a man who sensed something had gone wrong.
“Hm… this isn’t good.”
Even though I had expected this outcome, the look in Duke Wentworth’s eyes made me uneasy.
I felt like he’d want to kill me before the Crown Prince ever could.
“Where’s Vincent…?”
Muttering under my breath, I glanced around for him.
Nobles supporting him had surrounded him on one side of the chamber.
But between the congratulations and praise, I couldn’t catch sight of him at all.
‘Well… I guess it went well.’
I tried to reassure myself, but a wave of strange loneliness crept in.
Everything had gone right today, yet something inside me felt empty.
Maybe it was Duke Wentworth’s piercing gaze—or maybe it was the distance I felt from Vincent—that made me feel so isolated.
‘Stop it. What were you expecting?’
I told myself to focus.
If this made Vincent trust me even a little more, that was enough.
I quietly stood and slipped out of the chamber.
Before leaving, I glanced back.
Vincent was still there, surrounded by cheering supporters.
Our eyes might have met for a brief moment, but either way, I had no reason to stay.
The walk to the Crown Prince’s Palace was a familiar one, yet tonight it felt strangely foreign.
With every step, unease swelled quietly inside me.
‘Can I really survive this now…?’
When I finally arrived at the palace, I let out a long breath.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, it felt like setting down a heavy burden.
‘It’s okay. I survived this far. Now, focus on finding the heroine.’
And after that, I’d have to leave this place.
Looking around at the now-familiar room, I tried to imagine what would come next.
***
Duke Wentworth walked slowly down the corridor after leaving the chamber.
With every step, his nerves sharpened, and anger burned hotter inside him.
Both his fists were tightly clenched.
“That Duke Priem actually showed up…”
The appearance of Duke Priem had been entirely unexpected.
He wasn’t politically aligned with either side.
Yet Vincent had managed to move him—and even sway the Emperor.
That couldn’t have been coincidence.
“How did he do it?”
Wentworth’s mind raced to untangle the web of connections.
How Vincent persuaded Duke Priem, how he got the Emperor to act—none of it made sense.
The Emperor’s vote hadn’t been exercised for years.
No one would dare think they could convince him.
So, did the Emperor act on his own to support his son?
That indecisive man?
“Or was it the Empress?”
Whether Emperor or Empress, something must have triggered this.
He had clashed with Vincent before, but never like this.
And not once had the Emperor intervened in such matters.
Unless he figured this out, his future plans would be at risk.
“Amelia…”
Duke Wentworth’s thoughts drifted to me again.
If there was a link between Vincent and him, it had to involve me somehow.
Her defiance of his orders and her attendance at the assembly both troubled him.
The Amelia he knew wouldn’t have done either.
Could she have had a hand in this?
But he quickly dismissed the thought.
“That foolish girl couldn’t possibly pull off something like this.”
In his eyes, Amelia might have looked refined, but she was nothing more than a tool—a frightened girl meant to manipulate the Crown Prince.
He had noticed slight changes in her lately, but nothing significant enough to matter.
No matter how much she’d changed, she couldn’t possibly orchestrate something this complex.
Still, he couldn’t shake off his unease.
He stopped walking, biting his lip.
He couldn’t be certain yet, but he needed to keep an eye on her.
That was his conclusion.
He let out a long sigh.
“Vincent may have won this time… but this isn’t over.”
It was almost time to harvest the long-grown fruit of the Molton family’s dark dealings.
Duke Wentworth pulled out his communication stone.
It connected to his butler, James.
“James, bring Stephan to me.”
The thought of gaining control of the Molton family’s slave auctions brightened his mood.
By the time he reached his mansion, his steps no longer felt heavy.
It was, after all, harvest season.
The crisp autumn air cleared his mind.
