In the Name of Empress-Chapter 396 - 280: Your Majesty, Don’t Zone Out, I’m Right Behind You
"Look, it’s a big iron ship!"
"No, it’s a steel monster!"
"Don’t talk nonsense, that’s a big iron ship. There’s the White Rose flag on the mast, it’s Her Majesty the Empress’s flagship!"
...
The ironclad ship entered the Tamas River Estuary slowly.
It wasn’t due to a lack of power, it just wanted more people to witness the majesty of the giant ship.
The display effect was great, and many people gathered to watch.
Not only that, it also startled a number of ministers who hadn’t yet arrived.
For example, Minister of the Navy Winston and Minister of Finance Mr. Sim.
They had been waiting a long time in the lookout tower by the harbor, observing the incoming Fourth Fleet.
Through the telescope, upon seeing the intimidating grandeur of the ironclad giant ship, their first reaction was impossible, absolutely impossible.
They rubbed their eyes vigorously, raised the telescope once more, and finally could confirm it wasn’t fake.
Winston’s face turned ashen, like a corpse dead for three or four days.
Mr. Sim’s complexion wasn’t much better.
Alben, however, looked relatively relaxed, even having the mood to mock Winston, "Mr. Winston, I remember you once said if an ironclad giant ship entered the Tamas River Estuary, you’d eat it raw. You can now consider what flavor sauce suits you better."
Winston, already in a terrible mood, felt even more infuriated by Alben’s ridicule.
Seeing the situation unraveling, despite his unrest, Sim stepped in to mediate.
"Is this really the time to argue? What should we do instead?"
Winston snorted angrily, not saying a word.
He wasn’t sulking, but his mind was blank, unable to think of any countermeasure.
Alben didn’t speak either, letting out a cold snort as he headed for the door.
Seeing him leave, Sim and others were somewhat surprised.
"Alben, where are you going?"
"Rubbish, I’m going to receive Her Majesty. Soon, the entire city will head to the dock to welcome that woman; only we won’t be there, making it too conspicuous."
Alben walked quickly, the sound of his voice still echoing in the air even though he was already dozens of meters away.
"That scoundrel runs quite fast!"
Director Ricie muttered softly, then also headed downhill.
At sea, sailing depends on the wind, but now the wind direction is off, so they can only temporarily retreat.
Speaking of which, the new flagship of the Empress seems to lack sails; where does its power come from?
Ricie was somewhat puzzled.
What he couldn’t understand wasn’t just intelligence or warships, but the future as well.
Sighing lightly, he reluctantly chased after Alben.
Looking at Alben’s upright silhouette renewed his confidence.
Don’t panic; with Mr. Alben being so composed, he surely has a solution.
As long as they don’t lose their heads, everything will turn out fine.
Because of his trust in Alben, Director Ricie regained an inexplicable confidence, walking much more lightly.
Trailing in the back was Sim, watching Alben’s back with furrowed brows.
Something was amiss, Alben was really acting strange.
The eyes never lie, but Alben, being such an old politician, could completely control his emotions, looking at his eyes was futile.
However, even the most skilled actors have unintentional moments of relaxation.
The joy Alben showed while descending the mountain ultimately couldn’t be hidden.
What was he happy about? Was it the secret plan?
Thinking of the secret plan, Sim’s heart raced, clenching his lips tightly.
He temporarily set aside his worries about Alben and began worrying about his own future.
With a new emperor ascending to the throne, the political scene will surely have a major reshuffle. Even if Sylph is a political idiot, she still has Wald and Roland guiding her, keeping things from getting too outlandish.
Most cabinet members would manage to come ashore, some would remain, but surely some won’t pass muster.
Unfortunately, he certainly wouldn’t pass muster.
Fortunately, Alben is done for too!
Sim fiercely thought, dispelling his doubts about Alben.
Alben had openly opposed the Empress many times; personally, he wasn’t entirely clean either and could only tread one path.
Thinking of his schemes still made Sim tremble all over.
Even if there’s a glimmer of hope, he wouldn’t choose this path, but he has no other choice.
The blame falls on Sylph and Roland doing too well overseas.
In just over a year, they consolidated various forces abroad, established trade routes, seized parts of the Val City State, defeated the Oden Kingdom, and expanded territories - these are remarkable achievements.
Not only that, they brought back news of the old Emperor from the deep sea, as well as survivors from the Fourth Fleet, even establishing friendly relations with the Sea Demon People.
They are quite aware of the Empress’s achievements, but they are unwilling to publicize them.
Though they don’t publicize, others certainly will.
Minstrels love to tell stories about the Empress, and the damn The Sun never misses a chance to sensationalize at every opportunity.
With the assistance from those with hidden motives, the citizens of the Imperial Capital all regard the Empress as a savior while blaming the cabinet for the dissatisfaction with their lives.
Thinking of this, Sim nearly lost his mind.
These troublemakers know nothing about politics.
Once their savior disappears, who would they rely on then?
Sim lowered his head, fearing the viciousness flashing in his eyes might be detected, even with no one around, such matters must be carefully planned.
...
The joys and sorrows of humanity are never the same; for every one troubled, there was another ecstatic.
Wald excitedly danced in the highest hotel suite near the dock as he watched the fleet come into port.
He couldn’t even wait for the moment to go meet Her Majesty, taking a deep swig of red wine.
The elderly face gained a bit of flush, and Wald laughed heartily, feeling cheerful.
The fleet still needed some time to dock, so he could enjoy a few more drinks.
He was getting old, only the master of the Netherworld knew how many more years he could drink, so while he could, he better have a few more glasses.
After finishing the last glass of wine, Wald staggered slightly as he walked towards the door.
He hummed a tune, his beard and eyebrows fluttering, not even noticing when he hit the doorframe and stubbed his toe.
Compared to the ministers’ hidden agendas, the common people’s sentiments were much simpler.
Long live the Empress!
A simple statement enough to express their true feelings.
They didn’t care who held power, they only wanted to live comfortably, to bask in a bit of the nation’s glory.
But the Cabinet couldn’t give them these.
Despite the ongoing propaganda about the drawbacks of monarchical dictatorship, they simply couldn’t listen.
If monarchical dictatorship was bad, hadn’t seen the Cabinet doing any worthwhile work either?
As it happened, the Imperial Capital was enjoying a rare sunny day today.
The sunlight was so dazzling that it made the crowd gathered near the docks involuntarily raise their hands to shield themselves.
They didn’t know that for this bright sunny day, the Fourth Fleet had drifted at sea for three extra days.
This was Roland’s suggestion.
Weather indeed influences mood.
Sunny days and gloomy days make people feel completely different.
The Imperial Capital had been overcast for more than ten days in a row, and the Empress returned to a sunny day, which was no coincidence but the Great Goddess’s approval!
Roland wanted to create this kind of atmosphere.
What if people didn’t think in this direction?
It wouldn’t happen, there were people in the crowd who subtly guided public opinion.
As long as this narrative took hold, there wouldn’t be room for any doubt.
Questioning whether the sunshine was related to the Empress today, might tomorrow be questioning the legitimacy of the Empress?
Roland arranged many agents.
As the ship anchored and the gangway was set, a renowned minstrel appeared in the dock square.
Adam and Lilith appeared in the square and began chanting.
They sang the Empire’s national anthem.
"Empress Tianyou."
The Empire’s national anthem has "God Save the Emperor" and "God Save the Empress" versions that adapt according to the monarch’s gender.
The people of the Imperial Capital hadn’t heard the Empress version for nearly a century.
The elderly began reminiscing about legends of the previous Empress.
Unfortunately, with the years gone by, they couldn’t quite recall.
But no matter, in the crowd, someone helped educate everyone.
"Empress Isabella III was benevolent and generous domestically, and expanded territoriess abroad, only a bit short of Great Emperor Level."
"But our country has high evaluation requirements for the Emperor, if judged by Rodinia Continent’s standards, Empress Isabella fully qualified for the title of Great Emperor."
After the human loudspeaker finished, someone snorted defiantly and picked up the topic: "Empress Sylph will surely become a Great Emperor!"
Though it was a bit early to discuss whether there is the demeanor of a Great Emperor, quite a few people already agreed.
There were also some seasoned and steady individuals who hadn’t yet accepted, but they also acknowledged that Empress Sylph certainly was an able and wise monarch.
In any case, everyone was delighted.
"The Empress has returned, so the sunny weather followed!"
Someone in the crowd shouted out Roland’s crafted slogan, and soon there were responses.
The cheers were louder and louder, resounding up to the skies.
Standing on the deck, Empress Sylph dressed in a naval uniform, smiled, holding a sword in her left hand, waving to greet the crowd with her right hand.
She really wanted to turn back and wink proudly at Roland, but she couldn’t.
She was the Empress now, she had to maintain a perfect and flawless demeanor.
Teacher Margaret was among the crowd, if she lost composure, the teacher would be upset.
This was the drawback of being the Empress, every word and action had to consider its impact.
If she were Count Tyrone now, she could even hold Roland’s hand and gesture towards the shore.
It was really tiring being Emperor, she must find someone trustworthy to share the burden.
If she mainly focused on handling affairs of state, how would she have time to hone combat skills?
If she couldn’t stand, who would confront Sofia?
Thinking of this indisputable reason, her eyes brightened, the sun seemed to lose some light to her astonishing charm.
Standing behind her, Roland noticed her gently waving arm froze for a moment, softly reminding:
"Your Majesty, don’t daydream, and don’t turn back, I’m right behind you."
Sif didn’t speak, just calmly resumed, continuing to wave towards the crowd.
When disembarking, Sif finally found a chance to glance at Roland from the corner of her eye.
Roland’s gaze carried three parts concern and seven parts joy, as clear as the sky over Hansa.
He would definitely support the new concept of reallocating Cabinet power.
Sif was very confident.
As she set foot on the dock, she felt unprecedentedly steady.
Thinking of the embarrassment when leaving over a year ago, it felt unreal.
Only treading on solid ground, could she feel slightly at ease.
Out of sight of others, Sif took advantage of the cover, stretching her hand from her sleeve to clasp Roland’s hand.
The hand was soft and broad, exuding Roland’s warmth.
It certainly wasn’t a dream.
There couldn’t be such a fervently real touch in dreams.
