Ch.256Emperor (4)

Unsurprisingly, not a single congratulatory delegation from foreign nobility arrived.

Even the relatively friendly neighboring Laurel Duchy, being a vassal state of the Holy Empire and until recently a stronghold of pro-imperial forces, expressed reluctance toward my imperial proclamation and only sent personal congratulations.

Well… that’s to be expected. I wouldn’t have sent anyone either.

“Long live the Emperor!”

“Long live Lotaring! Long live!”

Of course, while foreign powers stayed away, every single domestic noble attended the coronation without exception.

Not just nobles who were friendly to me, but also those who had been severely oppressed by me, and even those whose families I had completely destroyed.

‘…Yet not one of them shows any sign of discontent. Teaching Roter in the future will be quite challenging.’

Though the nobles must surely harbor resentment toward me, they all maintain expressions devoid of even the slightest displeasure. It seems they’ve mastered the art of controlling their expressions during my reign.

Given that even I, with my past life’s memories and years of observing nobles, cannot quickly read the emotions behind their expressions, Roter will certainly be manipulated unless he receives thorough instruction.

During the early days of my reign, most nobles couldn’t manage their expressions, but now they can. Is this how noble culture evolves? How bitter.

Well, when people who resolved everything through force suddenly can’t use it anymore, they naturally develop other skills to survive.

“Roter, look at their expressions. What do you see?”

“They’re all struggling to maintain their composure.”

“…Struggling?”

I leaned slightly toward Roter standing beside me and asked him to read the nobles’ expressions, but his answer was completely unexpected.

“Yes, Father. While many are genuinely happy, many others are forcing smiles and seem annoyed. They appear displeased about being forced to attend the coronation.”

“Annoyed, you say…”

Indeed, they could be annoyed.

The territorial nobles have lost their once-powerful authority and can no longer manage their domains as freely as before. Still, their duty is to remain in their territories and manage them.

Before my ascension, territorial nobles had lived confined to their domains for centuries, so this tradition has become deeply ingrained. They likely dislike wandering outside their territories like this. No, they definitely dislike it.

Moreover, in recent years, they’ve been forced to travel between their domains and Dijon solely on my orders, which must have increased their discontent. But they can’t show this outwardly for fear of falling completely out of my favor, so they’re likely forcing smiles and managing their expressions.

‘…But how does Roter know this?’

Even I need to observe carefully to discern the nobles’ emotions, yet Roter, barely thirteen years old, reads their expressions as if it were obvious.

…What? How did he do that?

By Korean age reckoning, he’s only fifteen—equivalent to an eighth-grader—how can he see through the nobles’ masks and read their hidden emotions?

“How did you know that?”

“Pardon? Ah… well…”

When I asked Roter how he knew, his reaction was strange.

Until just now, he had been answering without hesitation, but suddenly he began stammering, reluctant to speak.

“It’s alright, it’s too noisy around us for anyone to hear.”

“But…”

“Is it something personally important? If so, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… their expressions resemble those of Her Majesty and my stepmothers.”

“…Huh?”

Since Roter seemed reluctant to speak, I told him he didn’t need to if it was important… but why are my wives suddenly being mentioned?

I can guess what he means.

Chloe and Ines had a terrible relationship even when I was around, so it must have been worse when I wasn’t present.

The younger people are, the more instinctively they read others’ emotions. Having experienced this since childhood, has reading others’ emotions become second nature to Roter?

“Well… you must have had a difficult time.”

“…”

Roter doesn’t deny it. He just gives an awkward smile.

…How sad.

……….

Solemn music flows through the surroundings, and everyone in the hall stands with slightly bowed heads, showing reverence.

Only two people hold their heads high—the Pope and Claude.

“—By the authority of the Pope, who represents God’s will, I hereby appoint Claude of Burgundy as Emperor.”

“I gratefully accept God’s calling.”

‘Why… am I blessing this man?’

Although this is the Pope’s first time conducting an imperial coronation, he has presided over several ducal and royal coronations during his time as Archbishop. Thus, he conducts the imperial coronation naturally without special practice.

Of course, regardless of this outward composure, the Pope’s inner thoughts were burning with resentment.

‘…Should I cause a disruption now?’

A risky idea flashes through the Pope’s mind.

Since only Lotaring nobles are gathered here, the shock would be minimal, but causing an incident might give him a chance to escape his confinement.

‘Despite my severely diminished authority, I am still the Pope. If I stop the coronation and publicly appeal for help by speaking about the oppression I’ve endured, I could damage the bastard king’s prestige and gain the nobles’ support.’

In reality, the Church in Lotaring had completely broken free from the Holy See’s influence due to Jeanne and Armand’s reforms promoting national sovereignty. It had reached the point where a single royal command could change scripture. Similarly, the nobles had been stripped of their feudal rights and couldn’t even collect taxes properly without the king’s permission, so the power they enjoyed before Claude had completely vanished.

Even if the Pope were to cause such a disruption, none of those gathered would side with him. Defying the king would only bring terrible retribution.

But the Pope, unaware of these two facts, begins to evaluate the situation with a severely overestimated assessment, believing that if he publicly appeals for help, the nobles and church forces within Lotaring would support him.

Of course, this isn’t because the Pope is stupid.

It’s simply that after being confined for so long with all information cut off, reduced to a mere rubber stamp, he has lost touch with reality.

‘…Alright, I’ll do it. When I place the crown on his head.’

Regardless, the Pope, having lost his sense of reality, decides to carry out his hastily formed plan.

Above all, since he would remain imprisoned for life if he did nothing, there was no need to weigh the chances of success. If there was even a sliver of hope, he should act.

Generally, when a monarch receives coronation from a cleric, they close their eyes, kneel on one knee, and bow their head. This posture prevents the monarch from responding quickly to unexpected situations, so the Pope chooses the moment of coronation for his uprising.

“Now, before the final part of the coronation, the bestowal of the crown—ugh…?!”

However, the Pope’s plan crumbles before it can even begin.

The knee that should be bent is straight, the eyes that should be closed are wide open, and the head that should be bowed is held high.

The Pope shrinks back, trembling, absurdly wondering if his thoughts have been read, but Claude has no interest in the Pope.

He’s only interested in the crown in the Pope’s hands.

Snatch—

And the Pope’s mind fails to keep up with the situation.

The crown of Lotaring, which had been in the frail hands of the elderly Pope, is suddenly in Claude’s hands in the blink of an eye.

“What—…!”

Claude doesn’t respond to the Pope’s short, small cry.

He simply holds the crown, turns his back on the Pope, and faces the gathered crowd.

“…?!”

“What on earth is…”

The Pope is not the only one surprised.

The nobles, commoners, and clergy gathered at the coronation also fail to follow this sudden turn of events, but Claude speaks naturally to the crowd as if nothing unusual is happening.

“I am most pleased to accept your loyalty. In all of history, there has never been a case where subjects and people, without external influence, have elevated their lord to Emperor—except for me.”

‘What? What is he trying to—’

The Pope’s startled monologue is cut short.

A shocking scene, something that hadn’t happened for nearly a thousand years, is unfolding before his eyes.

The arms holding the crown slowly rise.

“I am truly… truly proud to be your lord. I must surely be the most blessed ruler in the world, no, in all of history!”

And those arms, raised above his head, gently place the crown on their owner’s head.

A chilling atmosphere instantly fills the coronation hall, leaving everyone unable to speak, but within seconds, cheers and acclamations from loyal supporters drive away the cold atmosphere.

On this day, the existing religious system met its complete end.