I Became the Narrow-Eyed Villain in a Dropped Novel

Strauss’s appraisal shop in a corner of Schwaben hadn’t changed much since my last visit.

Aside from scratches left on a pillar, the traces of the brawl were gone, and except for the obvious newness of the glass window, it was hard to tell any repairs had been done—the atmosphere was much the same as before.

“Regulars prefer this kind of vibe.”

When I asked why they didn’t overhaul the place entirely, old man Strauss answered curtly and went back to his work inside.

That was a pretty friendly response for him.

“How did you know to come here?”

“Instinct.”

In truth, I’d asked the butler.

Perhaps having come from some task, Blaiher was dressed lightly.

“With the plan set for two days from now, I came to check on progress.”

“Oh, perfect timing then. Follow me.”

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

With that, Blaiher flung the door open with gusto and stepped out.

Where did that confidence come from?

Schwaben’s streets, now in the evening, were even busier than during the day.

Known for shops dealing in magical items, it wasn’t just those—people of all kinds gathered here.

We passed through the bustling streets for a while and stopped in front of a small tailor shop at the edge of the commercial district.

“What’s this place?”

“A tailor shop. Just pretend to be a customer.”

Before I could reply, Blaiher threw the door open.

“Bill, long time no see!”

“What, Blaiher? Weren’t you off studying somewhere? Why are you here?”

“Came back to help the old man for a bit. Oh, this is a customer from our appraisal shop who needs a suit, so I brought him to Schwaben’s best tailor.”

“Always causing me more work. Sir, don’t trust this sly kid too much.”

I gave a light smile to the tailor’s playful jab.

Wondering what he wanted to show me, I decided to wait quietly.

As the tailor pulled out a measuring tape, Blaiher kept talking.

“I’ll leave the appraisal form for the item you sent last time here. If you need anything else, use our shop.”

“So, that suit—where’d it come from?”

“Vestol.”

At the mention of Vestol, the tailor, who had been diligently measuring, frowned.

“Smuggled goods?”

“Nah, these days it’s brought in openly, so it’s hardly smuggling. The old man says half the items coming to our shop are from Vestol.”

“Hah, then what’s the point of the treaty? Back then, Vestol folks at least pretended to sell in designated areas, but now they’re thriving.”

“Speaking of Vestol, last time…”

Blaiher went on about the illegal activities of Vestol merchants, and the tailor nodded, getting worked up.

‘So what does this have to do with the task I gave him?’

Just as I thought that, Blaiher, who had been dangling bait for a while, subtly lowered his voice.

“I heard from a customer that Chancellor Hendrick’s exile is tied to Vestol.”

“Didn’t they say it was about fish?”

“You believe that?”

I let out a chuckle, and the tailor, after a moment’s thought, shook his head.

In truth, it really was about fish.

“You heard that Hendrick escaped?”

“Yeah, I did. They say he’s planning something weird, using His Majesty’s other child.”

The tailor trailed off, glancing at me to gauge if he could say more.

“There’s such a rumor?”

“Just street talk. The late Emperor had plenty of those stories, didn’t he?”

Seeing my friendly reaction, the tailor waved his hand and laughed.

Did he realize his words carried subtle discontent with the current situation?

I was told to pick up the suit in two weeks and left the shop.

The rumors really seemed to be spreading.

“What’s his deal?”

“Just a tailor. Likes drinking, reminiscing about the old days, hates Vestol, and doesn’t think much of the Emperor—your average tailor.”

“Not a bad method. Targeting discontent and unease.”

Discontent and unease are like oil.

Without a spark, they don’t ignite, but with even a small one, they blaze up instantly.

Even if exaggerated, if there’s hope for change, rumors spread quickly.

“When you work, you can’t help but notice who hates the current Emperor or longs for the past. I just used that a bit.”

“For that, the rumors are spreading awfully fast.”

“Well, most Schwaben merchants don’t like the Emperor cozying up to Vestol. Plus, being the biggest commercial district, it draws crowds, and rumors spread faster.”

This already exceeded my expectations.

Drawing attention to Hendrick while subtly slipping in the hidden child story wasn’t a bad move.

This level of political savvy made it worthwhile to back him as Emperor.

The Empire needed to be stable for me to expand my reach.

“Good call, leaving it to you. Well done.”

“Compared to what Joseph-san’s doing, this wasn’t that hard.”

Fair point.

Compared to figuring out how to stab his own father, black propaganda was probably nothing.

“No need to worry about that. It’s already well underway.”

If seizing the Imperial Capital and Bureaucrats’ Street was the practical goal for taking power, attacking Werner was for the psychological goal.

No matter how much discontent there was, an Emperor was still an Emperor.

It was a move to block any chance of sympathy for him.

Above all, this was the way to save Werner Chartra.

Joseph knew that well.

* * *

“Is this His Majesty’s will?”

“Yes, Lord Duke. No weapons, no escorts. Follow these two conditions, and there’ll be no issues.”

The Imperial Guard officer said stiffly.

Such excessive demands for a Duke of the Empire attending a banquet.

Normally, Werner would’ve roared in defiance and gone home, but today was different. It might be his last chance to meet the Emperor alone.

Werner nodded slowly and gestured for him to leave.

“Understood. I’ll follow His Majesty’s will.”

“Thank you. I’ll take my leave.”

The officer glanced back.

Joseph stood motionless, staring at the officer.

“You two probably have things to discuss as father and son.”

Joseph stayed silent until the officer left, then shook his head.

“It’s an incomprehensible condition.”

“I know.”

“Are you really going to attend?”

Werner couldn’t answer Joseph’s question.

At the last audience, the Emperor said the secret letter incident was a misunderstanding and that he supported Werner.

As a vassal, it was heartening, but Werner knew the Emperor was more fickle than a reed.

Hadn’t he already tried to borrow Vestol’s hand once?

There was no guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind and ally with Vestol or another Duke.

“What are Valheit and Blaiher doing?”

“…They don’t seem to be in contact with the other Dukes.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

This time, Joseph fell silent.

To Werner, even that silence felt like an answer.

“They’re preparing a coup, aren’t they? They said so from the start, so it’s not surprising.”

“Reconsider attending the banquet.”

“Why? So that guy can scheme more easily?”

“That’s not what I mean…”

Werner raised his hand to stop his second son’s words.

Sighing, Joseph fell silent.

“I know Blaiher’s character well from watching him. It’s not just that he resembles the late Emperor. If only he were a legitimate child, not a bastard.”

“……”

“Tell Valheit not to intervene until the banquet is over. Ask him to give me a chance to offer my final counsel to His Majesty.”

“Father.”

“If I fail, then let him proceed with his schemes. Since I failed to serve His Majesty properly, I’ll pass the Duke’s seat to you.”

Joseph’s face hardened at the sudden declaration.

Werner, meanwhile, looked up at the ceiling with a tired expression.

He’d thought he could persuade the Emperor, but the Emperor answered by joining hands with Vestol.

The Emperor might have gone too far already.

“Helmut swore absolute loyalty to His Majesty and joined the Imperial Guard, and Anne is still young, so there’s no one else to pass it to but you.”

“You don’t have to do this. The Empire’s subjects already know your loyalty…”

“What does it matter if others know, if His Majesty doesn’t?”

Joseph was speechless, seeing his father—who raged when ousted from the Council of Dukes—show weakness for the first time.

But once Werner made a decision, he pushed forward no matter what.

There was no changing his resolve to seize this last chance.

“Understood. I’ll convey that.”

Leaving the weary-looking Werner, Joseph quietly exited the room.

His emotions were tangled.

‘If Father still insists stubbornly, I said I’d follow his will.’

Last night, requesting a private meeting with Valheit, Joseph had expressed his stance.

If his father didn’t give up, he couldn’t attack him.

Valheit’s response was unexpected.

He thought Valheit would pressure or cajole him, but he just tilted his head.

“Very well. But do you think your father still trusts His Majesty, even after seeing him join hands with Vestol?”

That ended the meeting.

For someone so resolute, it was an anticlimactic conclusion.

But seeing his father just now, Joseph realized.

‘Father has already given up.’

Werner Chartra, who lived fiercely for decades, was still human.

The moment he realized the Emperor would never change, he collapsed.

If he attended the banquet like this, he’d only be betrayed one last time.

In his current state, if the Emperor told him to die, he’d accept it without protest.

‘To save Father and the Chartra family, I have to keep him from even reaching the banquet hall.’

No matter how much Valheit explained, Joseph hadn’t been convinced until now, when he finally made up his mind.

A steady heart keeps the blade steady.

Recalling the old Chartra adage, Joseph unconsciously gripped his sword hilt tightly.

* * *

“That’s what he said.”

“Stubborn old man, digging in his heels to the end.”

When I relayed what Joseph told me, Til clicked her tongue.

I thought the same. Going to the banquet was like going to his death.

“Joseph-san finally agreed to the plan. Are you ready?”

“Ready to take a swing at the old man? Always have been.”

“Just to be clear, your role is strictly supported.”

Til grimaced and turned her head.

No matter how well she hid, if Til took the lead, she’d be exposed instantly.

“No way there’s an Imperial Guard assassin who can’t use magic. I get it, so shut up.”

In the Imperial Guard, where mastery of both swordsmanship and magic is a virtue, an assassin not using magic would be suspicious.

So, the main role had to fall to Joseph.

“But you got the right to draw blood, didn’t you? With the condition of not killing, of course.”

“…I just wanted to crush him one-on-one. Don’t worry. It’s Eight Council business, so I’ll handle it without personal feelings.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Taking it as sarcasm, Til glared at me with narrowed eyes.

I meant it as encouragement, but my tone made everything sound like sarcasm.

“The banquet starts at 5 p.m., so we’ve got about three hours. Let’s get moving.”

Hmm. Starting like this feels a bit flat. If I’m Valheit, I should start with something weighty.

“With the blood we spill today, let’s sweep away the maggots.”