When the Great Imperial Son heard his father say that "the chances are slim," his mind buzzed, and his ears rang.
As his gaze shifted, the world before his eyes seemed to drag, leaving faint afterimages. He could no longer pace back and forth. He gripped the armrest and sat down.
His expression began to twist. To him, everything was unfair. He had done nothing, yet he was about to lose his future and power. No matter how hard he thought about it, he could not understand why it had to be him and not someone else. After a long while, the Great Imperial Son finally recovered from his dazed state. He licked his lips, a gesture that was actually extremely low-class.
When nobles' lips were slightly chapped and needed protection, they applied ointment made from whale oil to keep them moist.
They did not lick their lips with their tongues. That was something only commoners did.
"Can we... suppress these nobles?"
When the Great Imperial Son said this, a mocking look filled the emperor's eyes. He looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Don't let what's in front of you obstruct your thinking, and don't say such stupid things again!"
Of course, as a father, he still offered a brief explanation. "Mobilizing the army would either require the military's cooperation, or I would have to order those generals to bring their troops back."
"But neither method will succeed."
He fell silent for a moment before continuing. "None of us wants a civil war to break out. We can lose, but we cannot become the sinners of Gefra, child..."
There were many things he had never explained to the Great Imperial Son. Ever since the Prime Minister began seizing power, events had changed so rapidly that no one