Free Web NovelChapter 370: Chapter 79: An Embrace Is to Make Up for the Missing Heartbeat in the Right Chest
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was even more somber than on the way there.
Aurora sat quietly beside Murphy, her gaze sweeping past the fields rushing backward outside the window, occasionally falling back on Murphy’s serene profile.
Eleanor sat opposite them, her calm, dark eyes fixed on her father.
The faces of the Count and the Priest, a mixture of hope and excitement that ultimately dissolved into immense disappointment and even bewilderment, replayed in her mind.
She pursed her lips slightly. Finally, as the carriage entered a tree-lined road where the light grew soft and dappled, she spoke softly:
"Father."
Murphy’s gaze shifted from the window to his daughter’s face.
"You..." Murphy’s figure was reflected in Eleanor’s dark eyes. "You clearly understood them, approved of the direction they’re taking, and even said they were climbing... so why did you refuse to offer any help in the end, not even verbal guidance? You said that seeing the thorns clearly is for the sake of climbing better. So... why not lend them a tougher pair of gloves, or a staff to probe the path?"
Murphy didn’t answer immediately. He was silent for a moment.
The carriage moved through the shaded woods, and the play of light and shadow flickered across his face:
"Eleanor, my power is very small."
Eleanor was taken aback.
"So small..." Murphy continued, "that it’s just enough to encircle the lands of the Monte Territory, to protect the lights in the castle, and... you."
"The Glamorgan Count’s ideals, whether they stem from the Pope’s compassion or his own benevolence, will touch upon a web of deeply entrenched interests and the unbreakable chains of order established over hundreds of years once they are truly set in motion. That is a massive vortex, and what it needs isn’t a staff to probe the path, but a foundation that can stand unshakable amidst turbulent waves."
"I..." He shook his head gently. "I do not have such a foundation. The peace of the Monte Territory is built on the remoteness of the Northern Territory, decades of management, and..."
"...on certain special conditions. It’s like a carefully constructed, relatively closed experimental vessel that can cultivate unique fruit but cannot withstand a real storm from the outside. If I were to stick my hand into that vortex, I might be able to help them, I might be able to strengthen them, but it is far more likely that this greenhouse of the Monte Territory would be torn to shreds."
Eleanor’s hands unconsciously clasped in her lap. "But Father, you aren’t helping them, yet to outsiders, the governance of the Monte Territory seems to share similarities with the ideals the Count is pursuing. Might some people not see us as being on the same path, and thus grow wary of you, or even..."
She didn’t finish, but her meaning was clear.
A tree that stands out in the forest will be destroyed by the wind.
If the Count’s reforms were seen as a "dangerous experiment," then wouldn’t the more successful Monte Territory become an even more closely watched target in the eyes of some?
Upon hearing this, a faint smile appeared on Murphy’s face.
"Implicated?" Murphy repeated the word, his tone betraying no emotion. "Eleanor, how long do you think it would take for them to stir up enough trouble to ’implicate’ me? Five years? Ten? Or fifty?"
Eleanor was at a loss. She hesitated, "Perhaps... a very long time. Or maybe... they’ll never be able to create a significant impact at all."
"Then, in that ’very long time,’ or in the case where they ’never create a significant impact,’" Murphy said slowly, "why should I worry about being ’implicated?’"
Eleanor fell silent.
Murphy continued, "Besides... what’s most important is that I am powerful enough."
A hint of confusion appeared in Eleanor’s eyes.
’Powerful...’
’He avoids needless risk by not getting involved, but isn’t that a contradiction?’
Murphy seemed to have seen through her thoughts:
"I am powerful enough, and yet not powerful enough. Weak enough, and yet not weak enough."
"To the Glamorgan Count, to Father Anderson, to those ’like-minded’ individuals stuck in their corners trying to enact reform, the success of the Monte Territory is a miracle, a beacon. My power is the ’strength’ they yearn for but cannot attain. They hope to borrow the light of this ’strength’ to illuminate their own paths."
"My power is enough for my word to be law in the Monte Territory, enough to repel any who dare to directly invade the territory, enough to earn me prestige and bargaining chips in numerous events. Why do you think a matter like today’s was brought before me? Why do you think the Commander of the Imperial Guard of the Rotalia Empire would send me a letter?"
"It is precisely because my power has become an unignorable piece on the Continent’s chessboard. All sorts of matters find their way to me naturally, even if I don’t seek them out. It’s just that, in most cases, I don’t pay them any mind."
"But this power is far from enough for me to challenge the rules of the board they play on, to intervene in the game they have been setting up for hundreds of years."
"To the powers that truly control the Continent’s chessboard, the Monte Territory is just a well-governed Border Baron’s Domain with some unique technologies. It might surprise them, or even be of some use to them, but it is by no means considered a threat of equal measure that requires their full attention."
"And this is my ’weakness.’ The remoteness of the Northern Territory, the size of my domain, and even..." His gaze swept over his legs, which were covered by a woolen blanket, his tone perfectly level, "...my physical condition. These are all part of that weakness. They make those in power feel that this is a special case that can be observed, utilized, and even tolerated to a certain extent, rather than an anomaly that must be eliminated immediately."
Murphy concluded, "It is precisely this delicate position that allows me to maintain neutrality. To all sides, I am not an enemy that must be dealt with as a priority; I still have a certain value in being courted."
"The Church Court might need the Holy Protector Clan as a stable anchor in the Northern Lands, or perhaps it needs to maintain its reputation for sheltering the Holy Protector Clan. The Kingdom and the Imperial powers might value certain products and technologies from the Monte Territory. Even those Wizards lurking in the shadows might, after assessing the risks, decide that a direct conflict with me isn’t worth the cost and seek other means instead."
"This ’value’ doesn’t come from me clearly supporting any one side. On the contrary, it comes from the fact that I don’t explicitly support anyone, yet possess a weight of my own that they cannot ignore. The moment I clearly throw my lot in with any side, this delicate balance will be broken. The value I possess in being courted will rapidly transform into ’direct aid’ for one side, while simultaneously making me a ’clear obstacle that must be removed’ in the eyes of the others. At that point, the Monte Territory will no longer be a special case that can live peacefully in its corner, but will become just another piece swept up in the storm."
"So, Eleanor, my not helping the Glamorgan Count is the Monte Territory’s greatest Protective Talisman right now."
Eleanor listened quietly. She lowered her head, looked at her clasped hands, and replied softly:
"I understand, Father."
After a long moment, she added, "Then, can I eliminate the ’Gold Harvest’ merchant guild?"
"You may. That is your right as the heir to the Temeris Territory."
...
「One day later.」
「Temeris Palace.」
The carriage passed through the gates of Taymer Palace, drove down the tree-lined path, and finally came to a steady stop in the plaza before the main hall.
Aurora got out of the carriage first, then helped lift Murphy, wheelchair and all, down from it.
"Eleanor," Murphy said, "regarding the Gold Harvest merchant guild, you can go discuss it directly with Margaret. She’s more familiar with the people and connections in Violet City than you are, and she can tell you the most prudent way to handle it."
He paused briefly, his gaze lingering on his daughter’s calm face for a moment before continuing, "Tonight, you should stay over at her place. After you’re done talking, there’s no need to hurry back."
The implication behind his words made Eleanor’s dark eyes blink softly.
She was no child, ignorant of the ways of the world.
She knew, of course, what her parents would want to do when they were alone.
However, as a considerate daughter, giving them space was the proper thing to do.
"I understand, Father." She lowered her gaze and replied softly, "I will go have a good, long talk with Mother... about the merchant guild."
Aurora, standing behind the wheelchair, listened to her husband’s arrangements and her daughter’s reply. Her expression didn’t change, but a gentle smile touched the corners of her lips.
She reached out and gently stroked Eleanor’s smooth, dark hair. "Go on, then. Remember not to chat too late, and let your mother... get some rest as well."
"Yes, Mother." Eleanor nodded, bowed to each of her parents, and then turned to walk towards the Duke’s chambers in the east wing of the palace.
Her steps were steady, and her silhouette looked exceptionally slender in the halos of the wall sconces that were gradually lighting up along the long corridor.
Watching her daughter’s figure disappear around the corner of the hallway, Aurora began to slowly push the wheelchair towards their lakeside suite.
Her movements were unhurried, and the sound of the wheelchair rolling across the smooth floor was clear and peaceful in the empty corridor.
Servants along the way bowed to them one after another.
The two of them also nodded slightly in return.
But neither spoke a word.
They moved forward in silence.
The door to the suite was pushed open, and a wave of warmth mixed with the familiar scent of calming incense washed over them.
The firewood in the hearth was crackling, and the dancing flames dyed the room in shades of gold and crimson.
Aurora stopped the wheelchair in the warmest spot before the fireplace, then turned to close and lock the door.
When she walked back to him, Murphy was leaning his head back slightly, his eyes closed.
She bent down to take off the heavy coat he wore when he went out.
Her movements were gentle and practiced, just like on every similar evening over the past eight years.
Just as she undid the last button at his collar and was about to slide the coat from his shoulders—
Murphy suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist.
He gently pulled her bent-over form into his embrace, burying his face in the soft fabric of her bodice.
Aurora froze.
She wasn’t surprised, nor did she struggle. She simply let him hold her, her hands falling naturally to rest lightly on his shoulders.
The firelight danced around them, casting their embracing shadow on the wall, long and slightly swaying.
The room was utterly silent, save for the soft crackle of burning wood and the faint, almost imperceptible lapping of waves from Mirror Lake outside the window.
An unknown amount of time passed.
Murphy’s head, buried in Aurora’s embrace, stirred slightly, and he let out a sigh so low it was almost inaudible.
Then, he spoke, his voice muffled:
"Thank you..."
Aurora lowered her head, resting her chin lightly on his thick, dark hair.
She inhaled the familiar scent of his hair and raised a hand, slowly and gently stroking the back of his head, her fingertips combing through his cool strands.
After a long moment, she let out a soft laugh.
It was a light laugh, like a feather brushing against the heart, full of gentle warmth:
"There’s no need to thank me, brother."
Her voice was as soft as a hummed lullaby:
"A hug... is meant to make up for the missing heartbeat on the right side of a person’s chest."
At this, Aurora suddenly let out a chuckle.
She crouched down, letting their two hearts, one on the left and one on the right, draw quietly near. She wrapped her arms around Murphy and murmured softly in his ear:
"There, that’s better..."
