Ch.623Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from the Cold Country

# The word “imperial family” feels utterly foreign to me.

Despite the Smirnov Imperial Family reigning as the highest rulers in the Empire, its members have rarely appeared in the public eye.

This was because Nicholas VI had “liberated” the brains of all imperial family members who had stepped ahead of him from their physical bodies until quite recently.

After the sudden death of the previous emperor, the paranoid emperor ascended to the throne by driving out relatives who had usurped the imperial position. He exiled and killed all his blood brothers and sisters, and after producing an heir, he deposed all three of his consorts, thus imprinting upon the world the true nature of power.

That power is something that cannot be shared, even with family.

That was why, despite being called an empire, there were hardly any imperial family members involved in governance apart from Nicholas VI.

When even the crown prince had to tread carefully around absolute power, who would dare act up based on bloodline alone?

If one wanted to die peacefully, the best strategy was to keep one’s head down. Even the emperor’s children weren’t foolish enough not to understand this.

Therefore, even to the old veterans who had handled classified information for decades at the Petrograd base, the Smirnov Imperial Family remained a mysterious entity shrouded in veils, impossible to fully comprehend.

The same applied to me, to some extent.

…However,

The problem was,

The emperor’s power, which had never once wavered, had now entered a vacuum.

And historically speaking,

Power never tolerates an empty seat.

## Episode 23 – The Spy Who Returned from a Cold Country

A request came in from the Kiyen Embassy in my home country. They asked me to meet someone.

Applying diplomatic grammar, this could be interpreted as someone wanting unofficial contact. However, this request was somewhat different from the usual unofficial contacts.

First, they limited the notification route to me, a mere civil servant.

If they had something to say publicly, they could use diplomatic channels, and if they had something to say privately, they could use intelligence agency channels. The fact that they specifically called for me, who wasn’t even a defense attaché, was a highly suspicious point.

The information provided was similarly suspicious.

Originally, diplomacy implicitly required providing at least a hint of the agenda before a meeting, giving the other party time to prepare.

However, the Imperial Embassy simply forwarded the request to our side without a single word. They didn’t provide any information needed for preparation. It was essentially a unilateral notification.

Though their intentions remained unclear, it seemed that even from their perspective, this meeting was difficult to make official.

The content also seemed to include many unspeakable matters.

Otherwise, the Kiyen Ministry of Foreign Affairs, well-versed in underwater dialogue, wouldn’t have approached in such an amateurish manner.

Despite the sudden request, I was instructed to meet them. The instruction came from someone far above the Director of Military Intelligence or the Deputy Minister of Defense—an elected official.

The question was, “who” was coming to meet me.

“…To be honest, it’s not really my concern.”

“Why not?”

“They may be distinguished guests, but they’re still foreigners, aren’t they?”

That’s right.

Imperial family or not, their bloodline only matters within the Empire’s borders. For reference, I am a clear citizen of the Kingdom of Abas.

Whether they’re the emperor or the crown prince, from my perspective, they’re just foreigners I’ll see a few times and forget.

So naturally, upon receiving the request from the Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I couldn’t help but wear a blank expression.

What’s the big deal about imperial family members? I don’t understand why they’re summoning a busy person like me.

But that was just my perspective. It sounded different to Imperial ears. The other party frowned with a displeased look.

“Are you being impudent or insolent?”

“Pardon?”

“Knowing I am of imperial blood, yet you dare make statements contrary to propriety. Truly a stingy character.”

The Grand Duchess Alexandra Petrovna, a great magician with distinctive mysterious silver hair, looked at me with quite a critical gaze and asked seriously.

In response, I blinked while staring blankly at the Grand Duchess sitting across from me, and said:

“Oh my.”

Look at me. This person is also from the Smirnov Imperial Family.

As I hit my forehead, indicating I had made a mistake, the Grand Duchess’s gaze changed strangely. It was as vacant as if she had caught Camilla eating from a cookie jar hidden deep in the cupboard.

“Surely you didn’t forget that there is an imperial family member before you?”

“Oh, how could that be possible?”

“…This is maddening.”

As we traveled down the main road, the Imperial Grand Duchess sitting in the opposite seat covered her face as if she couldn’t bear it.

I laughed awkwardly and tried to smooth over what I had said earlier.

“It was a joke. How could I dare to speak ill of the Smirnov Imperial Family? Especially inside an imperial carriage.”

The place I was currently in was a carriage crossing somewhere in Kiyen territory. To be precise, it was a carriage owned by the Smirnov Imperial Family.

This carriage was both imperial property and a courtesy left by Imperial diplomats.

The Imperial Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which had suddenly requested an audience, had shown quite an unconventional approach. They broke diplomatic protocol by reducing the channels of communication and were reluctant to provide necessary explanations.

Nevertheless, like gentlemen of the diplomatic world, they maintained minimal courtesy. The hints they leaked to the Abas government, disguised as notifications, were three:

First, dress in civilian clothes, not a uniform, and maintain a neat appearance.

Second, be aware that travel will be by imperial carriage.

And third, the Grand Duchess herself would come to escort.

Perceptive diplomats had already succeeded in exchanging telepathy at this point.

Though they didn’t state it explicitly, the Kiyen Ministry of Foreign Affairs had subtly conveyed hints.

First, I, a current military officer and former defense attaché, was asked to wear “civilian clothes” instead of a uniform.

This implied that this meeting should never be made official, and both sides should keep the contact secret.

Also, they re-emphasized “maintaining a neat appearance,” which didn’t need to be stressed, revealing that the person I was meeting was of such high status that the Kiyen Ministry of Foreign Affairs had to pay considerable attention to protocol.

The mention of the mode of transportation was similar.

While the means of travel is important, frankly, why would the two foreign ministries need to agree on transportation for someone who isn’t a head of government or state? I could have just borrowed a vehicle from the Abas Embassy in Petrograd and traveled without issue.

Yet, the Kiyen Ministry of Foreign Affairs specifically notified the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs that they would provide transportation. And not just any transportation, but a carriage owned by the Smirnov Imperial Family.

They voluntarily provided information that wasn’t necessary? This clearly indicated an intention.

In other words, the key wasn’t whether transportation was “provided” but the “nature” of the transportation itself.

Lastly, the mention of the Grand Duchess.

This was practically spoon-feeding, as if they were afraid we wouldn’t understand.

After all, what insane diplomat would send a Grand Duchess as a mere guide?

No civil servant in the Kiyen Empire could possibly use a respected great magician and the emperor’s aunt in such a manner. If anyone suggested such nonsense, they would have been apprehended by the Imperial Guard, Imperial Police, or Imperial Protection Bureau long ago.

So this wasn’t an independent decision by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,

But rather a directive from “much higher up” that the Ministry was merely conveying.

The judgment made by the Abas Ministry of Foreign Affairs upon receiving these disguised hints was simple:

Someone among the imperial family was requesting an audience with a former defense attaché.

“……”

I gazed out the window, recalling the brief briefing I had received from Director Leoni.

As I repeatedly pressed my throbbing temples, the Grand Duchess, who had been sitting with her arms crossed, suddenly spoke up, saying it was distracting.

“Be still. If you’re feeling motion sickness, you should at least let in some fresh air, not keep fidgeting.”

“That’s not necessary. By the way, can you tell me where we’re going?”

Alexandra Petrovna silently shook her head. It meant no.

Whether it was for security reasons or because she was still displeased with my earlier joke, I couldn’t tell, but at least I could confirm that I was going to meet someone from the imperial family.

I fiddled with my tie once and then stared at the Grand Duchess.

“Well, I understand I received a request from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but Your Highness, where are you going dressed like this? You look quite different from usual.”

“What? Do you have a complaint?”

The Grand Duchess raised one eyebrow askew while keeping her arms crossed. Despite her somewhat unruly demeanor, her attire was a quite orderly dress.

“It’s just a dress I haven’t seen before. I was wondering if you’re going somewhere important.”

After making that excuse, I briefly examined the blue-toned dress the Grand Duchess was wearing.

It was attire that matched the mysterious silver hair that now symbolized the great magician.

The slightly deep-colored fabric contrasted strongly with her bright, transparent skin, thus accentuating the Grand Duchess’s presence even more.

I don’t know the style. I’m not particularly interested in design.

However, there was a jeweled brooch around the neckline, which was not excessive in size and emitted a deep, cold light that was certainly a fitting accessory.

I saw a double-headed eagle shining within it. The symbol of the Smirnov Imperial Family was emitting a subtle light from the center of the brooch, as if by magic.

Although that was the only accessory she wore, it alone was enough to prove its value. Anything that touched the skin of an imperial family member would certainly be of the highest quality, beyond what could be defined as merely “superior.”

How much would that cost?

As I inwardly contemplated the incalculable value, I casually remarked:

“No, it suits you.”

“Hmph-“

At the small exclamation, Alexandra Petrovna turned her gaze away while keeping her arms crossed.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Do you think that will appease me? Always treating me like an old lady in the back room…”

“No, you’re the one who broke into another country’s embassy and even shattered the glass in my office. It’s a bit…”

“Silence, you!”

“Oh my goodness, father…”

At the great magician’s roar, infused with magical power, I groaned, covering my ears without exception.

Meanwhile, the carriage continued to move relentlessly toward somewhere unknown.

*

There was no information about which imperial family member I would meet, or where. However, there were vague speculations within the Abas government.

Nicholas VI had many children from his three empresses during his reign. And as many as that number, perhaps even more, he lost.

The emperor’s illustrious record of deposing all three empresses brought a miserable end to many of his children.

Excluding the majority who died prematurely from disease, accidents, or suicide, and the minority who renounced succession and barely preserved their lives by going into exile abroad.

Currently, there were only four people who could officially be called imperial family members in the Kiyen Empire.

Crown Prince Valery.

Princess Elizaveta.

Princess Margarita.

Princess Anastasia.

To be honest, I had only heard their names; I had never seen them in person. More specifically, I had only encountered them through records.

Given the nature of intelligence units dealing with military information, I had often reviewed statements issued in the name of the Crown Prince during military-related events like “Army Foundation Day,” “Victory Day of the Eastern Expedition,” and “Northern Defense Festival.”

Though the Crown Prince himself never showed his face, and each time a high-ranking military general or Prime Minister Stolypin took the podium as a proxy…

Anyway.

Whether it was Crown Prince Valery or the three princesses, I had never seen them in person, nor did I know exactly what kind of people they were.

Information about key figures is mostly handled by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Diplomats who work at embassies, like my sister Adela, or intelligence officers carrying diplomatic passports.

Intelligence officers like me, who move around in the field, receive necessary information through diplomatic missions as needed.

But as the saying goes, even a temple dog can recite poetry after three years.

After serving as a defense attaché a few times, I too reached a level of developing interest where there was none before.

First, Crown Prince Valery had no reason to meet with me.

He is the officially appointed successor to Nicholas VI.

Of course, he’s not a perfect successor either. It’s not that his abilities are lacking, but due to various adversities, he has fallen to the status of a half-baked crown prince, so to speak.

Nominally the Empire’s second-in-command. In reality, he cannot be called the second-in-command. A weak crown prince crushed by the emperor’s momentum.

That was the assessment the Abas government had made of Valery. At least, that was the prevailing assessment within Abas.

To cut out the complicated backgrounds and get straight to the conclusion…

The protagonist of this harsh assessment was no longer a weak crown prince, nor did he have any reason or need to summon me to the Empire.

Why? Because he already possessed the “military command authority” essential for becoming an emperor.

In other words, he had succeeded in partially controlling the military, even if it was half-baked power.

The Abas intelligence authorities believe the Crown Prince’s control is at a level that can perfectly control military operations throughout the imperial capital, and may even be able to command the northern garrison troops, which were the core axis of the Empire-Magical Border conflict, to a limited extent.

What’s certain is that he has gained control of the “Imperial Guard,” which protects him and is responsible for palace security.

And the special operations units that can be deployed anywhere in Kiyen within 48 hours with the assistance of highly trained combat magicians.

To be precise, he has seized control of the “Reconnaissance Command” that commands these units.

The Imperial Guard is a guard in name only; in reality, it has a troop composition equivalent to a decent division-level force. The Reconnaissance Command is even a military intelligence agency equipped with a military unit specialized in sabotage and special reconnaissance.

For reference, the Imperial Guard and Reconnaissance Command are among the “five security agencies that protect the emperor.”

The fact that as many as two of them are under the Crown Prince’s control was reason enough for Abas intelligence agencies to revise their assessment of the “weak crown prince.”

But that’s from the perspective of foreigners watching a fire across the river, so they can look at it with interest.

Those living under the same roof can’t help but feel a chill down their spines.

Therefore, heirs to the throne were likely to seek ways to survive by contacting foreign governments.

Even though the Kingdom of Abas is treated as a semi-hostile nation, it fundamentally shares the framework of a “monarchy,” and although the genealogy is old, there might be some recourse if the royal and imperial bloodlines were connected.

Moreover, no matter how solid a support base the imperial family members have, what can they do if the Crown Prince points a gun at them?

It’s life or death. The more cards one has, the better.

With nothing to lose, betting one’s life might not be such a bad choice from their perspective.

That was the prediction the Abas government made after careful consideration.

And only now do I realize…

The prediction drawn by the collective intelligence of high-ranking cabinet officials from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Intelligence Department, and Ministry of Defense…

Was nothing more than a wild swing.

“On behalf of the Imperial Family, I would like to express regret for the unfortunate incidents that occurred at your country’s mission in Bahar City, and the past events across the sea in the Zamria Federation. I hope these unintended accidents do not develop into issues that hinder the friendship between our two countries.”

The woman with the mysterious hair, rare even in the Empire, straightened her back and uttered shameless words.

It meant summarizing all diplomatic disputes between Abas and Kiyen, including two illegal entries into the embassy, property damage, kidnapping and assault of diplomats, and all other issues that arose during the suppression of the military rebellion.

In short, it meant “I apologized, so let’s call it even.”

“……”

Surely she didn’t summon me all the way here just to say this.

It doesn’t seem likely, but considering the Grand Duchess’s stubbornly shameless personality, I also had doubts that she might have requested an audience just for this one thing.

I could only stare blankly at the other party, dumbfounded.

Regardless, the other party maintained a shameless attitude like the Grand Duchess and continued to say what she wanted to say.

“Have you suffered any damage from past incidents? If there’s anything that can be compensated, I will help with whatever it is in the name of the Imperial Family.”

But I couldn’t say anything because the other party was clearly of imperial blood.

Although she wasn’t carrying an identification badge to prove her status, her flowing silver hair was the clearest evidence that she had inherited the blood of the Smirnov family. Just like the great magician standing next to me.

As I stared at the woman in front of me, I briefly turned my gaze to scan Alexandra Petrovna.

“……”

The great magician, one of only two in the world, was surprisingly similar to the woman before me. It was as if she were Alexandra Petrovna with a reduced height and changed impression.

They say they’re from the same family, but can they really look this alike?

Is it because someone else is bringing up her misdeeds? Or is she feeling guilty seeing her niece’s daughter apologizing on her behalf?

Alexandra Petrovna, who had maintained a sullen expression since the carriage ride, suddenly intervened as if trying to hide her embarrassment, rubbing her cheek.

“Stasha (Стася). About that matter. I already…”

That’s when it happened.

The woman who had been listening quietly parted her lips slightly, and a very small breath flowed out like a sigh.

“Great-aunt.”

“Ahem…!”

It was a clear voice like a pearl rolling on a silver tray. But the emotion it revealed was quite different from the voice.

It was as if the youngest daughter of an unpleasant father was looking at her mother’s eldest daughter who had taken over her sofa. Such a sentiment momentarily crossed the woman’s eyes. Although she soon regained her original demeanor.

Despite being a young child, and even her niece’s daughter, the Grand Duchess began to cough repeatedly, something she never did normally, after hearing that short word.

Then, as our eyes suddenly met:

“Damn it.”

She frowned and turned her head away primly.

Wait, what has she done right to act this way toward me?

It was so absurd.

Should I slap the back of the Grand Duchess’s head? As I began to seriously consider it, the woman began to inquire about my well-being again.

“According to our Ministry of Foreign Affairs, there were no casualties. But damage can exist in places that aren’t known. So I’ll ask again. Have you suffered any damage due to my great-aunt’s issues?”

“…No. Thank you for your concern, but there’s none.”

“Then that’s fortunate.”

The woman nodded gently as if relieved and introduced herself with a gentle smile.

In quite good Abas:

“I am Anastasia Nikolayevna. As a member of the Smirnov Imperial Family, I once again extend my condolences regarding the incident involving our great-aunt that you experienced.”

I thought as I respectfully received the princess’s greeting.

Anastasia Nikolayevna Smirnov. The emperor’s last child and the third princess currently alive.

Despite possessing talent, she had to leave the palace early and wander abroad because she lost her parents to puerperal fever.

The ill-fated princess who had the most but at the same time never had anything.

At least, that’s how she’s known to the public.

However, there was a rumor circulating among diplomats.

“……”

Crown Prince Valery had taken great care of his half-sister, especially the youngest one.

In his early childhood, when Valery was still an unremarkable crown prince.

He got along so well with his pure and delicate youngest sister.

Of course, it was just a rumor. Too much time had passed to determine its truth. I had only heard it from a consul stationed in Petrograd.

But diplomats don’t care much about such things.

If you’re in a position to converse with someone of consul rank, you’re generally high-ranking, and if someone is spreading the private affairs of imperial family members to foreign diplomats, they’re one of two types: either thoroughly insane or confident enough to preserve their life despite spreading such stories.

Usually, at that level, the person themselves guarantees the value of the information.

…So.

“I have important matters to discuss. Shall we talk while walking?”

This princess might possibly be associated with the Crown Prince’s faction.

Such a thought briefly crossed my mind.