The Question of Succession

Gawain met the prince in the reception room. Rebecca, whom Gawain had brought along to experience the world, was also present.

Edmund Moen, the most valued offspring of Francis II, the current King of Ansu. Gawain hadn't known this prince before, but for this trip to the royal capital, he had specifically sought out Heti and Viscount Andrew to cram knowledge about the contemporary royal family, so he knew quite a bit about them.

Francis II was now old, but he had few offspring. Aside from his youngest son, Edmund Moen, he had only one son and one daughter. His eldest son, Wales, was exceptionally mediocre, and by nature cowardly and poor at scheming. For a long time, he was a constant worry for the old king. However, for the first half of the old king's life, Wales was his only son, and thus he was designated Crown Prince for seventeen years. But later, Francis II had children in his old age, when a favored concubine gave him twins: Princess Veronica Moen and Prince Edmund Moen.

Compared to his mediocre eldest son, Wales, these twins were like a bolt from the blue. At a very young age, they displayed exceptional talent—their court teachers praised both their martial arts and their wisdom. The old king, who had been troubled by the issue of succession, felt saved. Without much hesitation, he revoked his eldest son's status as Crown Prince and prepared to transfer the inheritance rights to his new children.

There was no dissent from the court or the public, and even Prince Wales calmly accepted this arrangement.

The throne of Ansu did not discriminate based on gender, but ultimately, the position of Crown Prince fell to Edmund Moen. This wasn't due to the old king's arrangement, but because Princess Veronica had voluntarily announced her renunciation of the right to inherit the throne before the new Crown Prince was announced. She had converted to the Holy Light Church and become a nun in the Grand Cathedral of Radiance (she had since been promoted to High Priestess). This was clearly a pre-arranged outcome—the old king naturally blessed his daughter, sent her into the church, and then appointed Edmund as Crown Prince. Thus, the succession of the Ansu royal family was completed in a remarkably smooth manner.

Many believed that Princess Veronica's "conversion" was actually a move by the royal family. Through this method, the King of Ansu placed a member with royal blood as a high-ranking official within the self-contained Holy Light Church. Furthermore, a princess who renounced her right to the throne and devoted herself to the God of Holy Light was indeed someone the church could not refuse—both symbolically and in terms of interests. However, there were also opposing views, seeing it as a sign of the Holy Light Church's growing influence and encroachment on the royal family.

There were many holders of both opinions, but in Gawain's view, they were all strategic deceivers, as they were merely talking nonsense...

Gawain was not interested in the division of interests behind these royal stories—or rather, he hadn't reached the point where he could form opinions on such matters. So, he simply focused his attention on the young man before him.

Edmund Moen was a complete heartthrob, possessing both heroic charisma and a calm, scholarly demeanor. His every move was textbook-perfect. After a simple greeting, Gawain whispered to Rebecca, "See that? Learn from it—stop trying to hit people with fireballs all day."

Rebecca wanted to remind her ancestor that he was the one who had instigated her to throw fireballs earlier, but she didn't dare speak up for fear of being beaten.

Edmund wore a thoughtful and proper smile. "I hope you are comfortable staying here. If the attendants and maids are lacking in any way, you can tell Butler James directly."

"Don't worry, there's nowhere I'm more accustomed to than my own home," Gawain said as he sat down in the high-backed chair. "You've kept this place well, it's basically the same as it was seven hundred years ago... You even recreated my favorite tea set. That's quite something. Sit, please don't be formal."

"Maintaining the hero's former residence is defending our honor," Edmund said with curiosity and respect. "I'm not afraid to admit, I grew up listening to your stories. I even have a set of replicas of the weapons and armor you used in my room, fantasizing about one day being able to conquer lands and protect people like you... It's a pity that whether as Crown Prince or King, one cannot live so freely."

Gawain sized up the prince a few times, until the latter shifted uncomfortably and asked, "Is something wrong with me?"

"Speak to me freely, don't act like you're facing a stiff old man," Gawain waved his hand. "I died seven hundred years ago, but I was only thirty-five when I died, not much older than you."

Edmund showed a hint of embarrassment. "Uh, you're right. I can't help but add those seven hundred years to your age..."

"There's definitely a seven-hundred-year generation gap," Gawain chuckled. "For example, when we spoke back then, we were much more direct than modern people. A fight or a drink together was all it took to get to the point, but modern people insist on pleasantries for half the day."

Edmund paused, then suddenly laughed as if relieved. "I knew it. You wouldn't be as difficult to deal with as my father thought—he warned me at length about the importance of etiquette and such. I told him, talking too much nonsense is annoying."

"See, I quite like this way of speaking," Gawain nodded. "So let's get straight to it, did you come here today to probe my intentions?"

"...You're a bit too direct about that too..."

"Ancient people were frank and straightforward," Gawain said, waving his hand. He thought to himself that since the people who had died hundreds of years ago wouldn't pop out of their graves to hit him, and at least within human society, he was the only one who could casually make remarks about the ancients, he might as well do as he pleased. "So you don't need to hide anything—your old man sent you to find out what I, who suddenly popped out of the grave, intend to do, right?"

Edmund shrugged. "It wasn't my father's idea. He's very cautious; he wouldn't do something as reckless as sending me to ask directly, even if he wanted to understand your intentions. This is my own idea, and I... am indeed very curious about your purpose."

Gawain gestured for him to continue.

"You've been awake for quite some time now, so you must know that many things have changed in these seven hundred years, especially... the changes a hundred years ago," Edmund said, glancing at Rebecca. "Are you here for the benefit of the Cecil Family?"

"That question is too broad. I am definitely here for the benefit of the Cecil Family, but the key is which part of the benefit," Gawain said, looking at the prince. "From my perspective, there's quite a lot I can ask for. Most directly—the hereditary ducal title and the southern territories of the Cecil Family are a significant point of discussion, aren't they?"

Edmund froze, seemingly unsure if Gawain was serious, but he forced a smile and replied, "Your title and territories were inherited by your descendants after your death. Subsequently, your descendants violated kingdom law and were unable to retain their titles and territories. All of this was conducted within the framework of the kingdom's laws..."

Gawain adjusted his posture, leaned closer to Edmund, and said with a half-smile, "Yes, according to kingdom law. But according to the law, my heirs could only fully inherit my titles and territories after my death. While I was alive, only my eldest son possessed my secondary title and had limited 'Legal Proxy Authority' (Note). All other Cecil offspring, besides the eldest son, only held noble status without any legal authority. It's clear that I am alive now, and there is no clause in Ansu law that specifies how a resurrected person's inheritance rights should be defined in terms of when they become effective and when they expire, nor how conflicts arising during their effective and expired periods should be defined."

(Legal Proxy Authority, in Ansu law, refers to the right of eligible noble offspring to act in the name of the family, enjoying corresponding privileges and bearing corresponding risks and responsibilities.)

Edmund: "?!"

Gawain spread his hands. "So the first step is invalid—the inheritance is invalid. That Grumman from a hundred years ago should have been neither a marquis nor held any Legal Proxy Authority for the Cecil Family. You merely took something from someone who had no right to inherit it, from someone who didn't have it in the first place."

Rebecca stared blankly at her ancestor, never expecting such a move. Amber, who was eavesdropping from the next room, glanced at Knight Byron. "So awesome—even more shameless than me!"

Prince Edmund before Gawain was on the verge of losing his composure. His mouth twitched, and after a long pause, he managed to stammer out, "But who could have imagined you would suddenly come back to life when the law was being made... Moreover, you did indeed die once."

"So, when you speak to me, put aside those logic and rules for now. They became ineffective the moment I broke out of my coffin," Gawain chuckled. "Of course, I'm not after those territories that have already been seized or the titles of my descendants. I know what that prodigal son did a hundred years ago. If it were me, I'd beat him to death too. The royal family's judgment on that matter was not wrong, and I have no intention of overturning it. I just want you to know that if I truly wanted to nitpick the wording of the kingdom's legal code with you regarding the inheritance interests of the Cecil Family, there would be far too many loopholes to exploit—who made so many clauses regarding inheritance rights revolve around whether I was dead or alive?"

"Alright, alright, I understand," Edmund raised his hands in surrender. "You just said that people from seven hundred years ago were straightforward and not good at beating around the bush, but now it seems you're probably more difficult to deal with than my debate tutor."

"I not only experienced the barbaric era of Ansu, but I also experienced the peak of the Gondor Empire. So don't underestimate ancient people from seven hundred years ago," Gawain pouted. "When we were barbaric, we could eat raw meat, and when we were elegant, we could give a type of red wine thirty-six different names, each with a sonnet."

"...That is indeed impressive," Edmund said, sincerely convinced. "So, can we talk in detail about what you intend to discuss with my father tomorrow at noon..."

Gawain nodded, thinking that as expected, compared to the public meeting tomorrow at noon, this meeting today was likely the real negotiation.