In the Name of Empress-Chapter 395 - 279: The Sun Delivers as Usual

"The woman is coming back, what should we do?"

In the small parlor of the Finance Minister Sim’s house, several Cabinet members gathered to discuss how to handle the Empress’s return to the Imperial Capital.

Their faces were clouded with worry, none wishing to speak first.

After an oppressive silence, Sim couldn’t help but glance at Alben, complaining softly:

"Alben, didn’t you say her ascension overseas was illegal? Now she’s coming back, even bringing along the missing Fourth Fleet, what are we supposed to do?"

The remnants of the Fourth Fleet have returned to the overseas provinces, and there’s clear information about the old Emperor’s whereabouts.

Sif did not hide these matters but openly announced them.

She is the Emperor, not a thief, so there’s no need to be secretive.

With the old Emperor’s handwritten letter, abdication edict, and personal seal, along with Prince Feino’s death, her succession is beyond dispute.

She intends to publicize this information to pave the way for her return.

She doesn’t want a civil war, so she needs the army to know who is the legitimate ruler.

The Cabinet’s difficulty in mobilizing the military to stop her has greatly increased.

They have no justification.

Sif is the legitimate Empress, and although her overseas ascension may contradict ancestral law, the founding Emperor did the same, providing grounds for defense.

Even if they insist overseas ascension doesn’t count, she can just hold the ceremony again in the Imperial Capital.

It’s not worth falling out with the Empress over such a minor issue.

Seeing Alben remain silent, Winston couldn’t help but interject.

"Ladies and gentlemen, anyone who often sails knows that sailing depends on the wind, and politics is no different. Her Majesty the Empress’s legitimacy is undeniable; we cannot stop her."

"Since we cannot stop her, let’s put aside our prejudices and welcome the Empress home."

Alben let out a cold snort, sneering, "Mr. Winston, do you think we can all remain in our positions and continue to share power? As far as I know, Roland’s Governor’s Mansion overseas is staffed according to Cabinet standards. Guess for whom these officials are prepared?"

Alben’s words immediately darkened Winston’s face.

They were old ministers under Emperor Edward, while the Governor’s Mansion officials are the new Emperor’s followers.

A new Emperor means new ministers; this logic applies everywhere.

The Chief of Military Intelligence, Ricie, nodded and said softly, "Alben is right, Roland’s Governor’s Mansion is indeed the future new Cabinet."

No need for him to point it out; everyone present was shrewd enough to understand.

Sif is bringing these people back to kick them out.

If they didn’t support her ascension overseas, they should leave.

The Minister of Culture and Education, however, remained calm, smiling as he teased, "I’m sixty-one this year, about to retire. Since Her Majesty has her candidates, retiring early to enjoy my later years isn’t out of the question."

"Enjoy your later years?"

Alben seemed to hear the most ridiculous thing in the world and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

He first pointed at Sim, sneering, "Mr. Sim, you should know, Shanina’s father, Norton, is now Roland’s most esteemed Alchemy Master. Do you think Roland would want revenge for his daughter’s murder?"

Sim’s face turned ashen, resembling a boiled pig liver.

He mumbled, unable to say a word for a long time.

What Alben said was blunt but true.

Everyone might have a chance for a safe landing, except him.

Now that he had spoken, Alben didn’t waste words. He pointed at each minister present, recounting their wrongdoings one by one, throwing in some taunts.

As someone responsible for the legal field, he knew all about his colleagues’ black history, only keeping quiet out of consideration for face.

Now he had no such reservations.

Some turned dark-faced, while others felt relieved. Some had acted in self-interest but had never crossed the line, even starting to imagine actively currying favor with the Empress.

Seeing these people waver, Alben pulled a paper from his undergarment and smacked it on the table.

It was a list.

A draft of the new Cabinet members created by Sif.

From the old Cabinet, only Wald was retained; all others were discarded.

Moreover, apart from Wald and William, all other names were highlighted in red.

"Anyone skilled in handwriting analysis, check if this is handwritten by the Empress?"

Sylph had signed many documents, making her handwriting easy to recognize.

The list was handed to Ricie, who examined it carefully, his face turning grim, only nodding silently.

Alben lowered his head slightly, afraid he might burst into laughter.

It was indeed genuine, as the list was personally written and sent by Sif.

This was a trap.

The list differed from the true list’s contents.

This was Sif’s final chance for the Cabinet ministers.

If they saw the list and recklessly took action, they couldn’t blame her for being unkind.

If upon seeing the list they repented and confessed, she could offer them a safe passage, just like she had given Ados and others an opportunity in the Three Overseas Provinces.

This was politics.

Of course, two people were beyond forgiveness.

Sim and Winston.

Their crimes were too severe to go unpunished.

Sim, who wielded financial power, engaged in rampant corruption, tyranny, and criminal cover-up. Winston’s private morality wasn’t as terrible, but he appointed the incompetent Planck as a general, resulting in the loss of half a fleet.

For personal vengeance, Winston had to die for the sake of Prince Feino.

For public reasons, ensuring the Imperial Navy’s combat power, he had to die even more so.

Besides these two, all others had a chance for safe passage.

Upon seeing the list, the Cabinet ministers’ hopes were finally dashed.

Stirred by Alben intentionally or otherwise, they decided to take a gamble.

If the Empress doesn’t give them a way out, they have to seek life amidst death.

Should the Empress encounter an accident, the Empire cannot be left without an Emperor, so they would have to invite the old Emperor back.

Rebellion?

Failure is rebellion; success is called righting the wrongs!

That night, the gathering at Sim’s house continued until late, with dim candlelight casting reflections on the windows, flickering like the mood of the conspirators.

...

The Fourth Fleet is about to return!

Her Majesty the Empress is about to return!

For the past two months, the people of the Imperial Capital have been discussing this topic the most.

Various newspapers scrambled to report on the hot news related to this.

The old Emperor?

No one cared about the old fellow, except for The Sun.

Just a few days ago, The Sun performed as usual, releasing a special edition recounting how the old Emperor Edward loved beauty over the throne, lost in the Sea Witch’s tender clutches.

This issue was sensational, even detailing the entire romantic acquaintance and love story between the old Emperor and Adina.

Not only that, but even the wedding scene was vividly depicted.

The old Emperor looked spirited, while the Sea Witch was endlessly shy, leaving readers unsure of whom to envy after reading.

The story was exciting, sales were booming, but everyone read it as just a story, not taking it seriously.

The author’s name wasn’t even signed, and it was published in The Sun; do you believe it?

No respectable person would.

Non-belief aside, everyone still enjoyed reading it.

Even though the special edition was priced at six times the regular version, it still sold out completely.

In response to readers’ strong demands, The Sun’s printing presses ran twenty-four hours, smoking with the effort, frantically reprinting.

Rupert, counting money with delight, couldn’t stop laughing in his office atop The Sun building.

"These wily citizens could never guess the writer is actually Her Majesty the Empress."

It must be said, Sif was adept at writing romance, turning a May-December tale into a passionate ageless love story.

Not only did readers love it, but Rupert did too.

He stood up and walked towards the window, looking out towards the Tames River Estuary.

Every day, countless ships entered and exited here, the busiest port in the world.

His eyes widened instantly, and the cigar clamped in his mouth fell to the floor.

Goddess above, what did he just see?

Amidst countless warships, a massive, iron-clad giant warship sailed slowly and steadily towards the dock.

What was going on?

Rupert was no unlearned playboy; he often discussed leading-edge science with academy scholars and was decently knowledgeable, with some understanding of physics.

The density of iron is greater than water, so it ought to sink to the bottom.

The density of wood is less than water, so it floats.

This is both common knowledge and a physics fact.

How could a warship built of iron float on water?

Even if it managed to float, where were the sails? How was this ship moving?

Had physics died?