Chapter 339: A New Generation of Power

"Your Grace." Isaac walked forward and carefully spoke to Isra. Putting the paper on her desk, she frowned and leaned back.

"What is it, Issac? I’m busy." Issac pointed to the seat opposite her. With a nod of confirmation, he sat down and gulped.

"I think we are going about this wrong." Isaac didn’t need to specify what he was on about and could see Isra physically get annoyed by the suggestion.

"We have traitors and villains in our glorious Empire, Isaac. Stealing our money, breaking laws, targeting my children. And you say it’s not a good idea. What do I do then? Arrest them. They tried to kill the Crown Prince. My son." Isra’s voice got louder and colder as she spoke, "And you want me to do what?"

"It’s not what I meant, Empress." Issac lowered his head. "I just mean that if we do this without any fallback, we won’t have enough people to run the Safrid lands." Closing his eye, Issac wondered if what he wanted to propose was a good idea. "I say we make three new Duchies."

"Wh...What." Isra couldn’t help but be confused; her anger vanished because of it. "Make Duchies. Issac, do you understand what you are asking? Let alone me, Alfred doesn’t want to give up more power than necessary."

"We have no choice, Empress. The administration can’t handle something on this scale without some concessions. I’m already burning myself dry to find an alternative, and this is the best I could." Isra sighed. Even she knew that they needed replacements for the people they would kill, but she didn’t think it would be so bad.

"Who? Who would we make the new Dukes?"

"I have a list." Issac pulled a note from his pocket and slid it over to Isra. Picking it up, she frowned but kept reading.

"Abu is fine; it’s just a matter of whether he will accept. But, Anton, Adrian, Marcus." Isra looked up at him, "Your sister. I don’t trust Adrian; Marcus will have too much power, just as Anton, and your family will have too much power. Desmond is okay. The rest aren’t worth mentioning."

Issac sighed and fell into thought. He knew that if Isra didn’t sign off, then Alfred definitely wouldn’t. He tried to think of someone, a way, and looking out the window, his eyes glowed with a strange light. "Maybe.." Grabbing his chin, Isra watched him, not wishing to disturb the thought he had. "Maybe, we give a part of the land to the Pantheon. To Sister Alice."

"Alfred dosen li..."

"I know," Issac cut in. "But His Majesty is still head of the Pantheon, even if he handed all his duties to Sister Alice. Technically, it will be Imperial land, just governed by the Church. It’s perfect."

Isra closed her eyes and tapped the table. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Make the preparations for the new duchies. If Abu doesn’t accept the title, go to Adrian. I may not trust him, but he poses the smallest threat out of all the remaining choices."

Issac got up and bowed. Leaving Isra alone, she rubbed her face in annoyance. Now that her anger had subsided a bit, she couldn’t tell if it was a good idea. On one hand, she had to show the crown wouldn’t accept a single threat to the Imperial family, but on the other hand, was it worth showing this to the nobles at the cost of giving up power? Whilst Alfred lived, it may not have been an issue; he had enough power to keep all his powerful vessels in line, but when Edward took his place, it became an issue.

She couldn’t help but worry about her son’s future. Sighing, she slapped her cheeks. It wasn’t worth worrying about. It also wasn’t terrible. Giving Alice land meant the Imperial family had more power. It wall checks and balances. Make sure one side never gets too powerful. The people’s courts would alleviate some pressure. The only thing they could never give up power on was the military. William was fine being General despite the Duke, he was loyal.

Isra just couldn’t help but worry. In the future, it was inevitable that a powerful noble would get the title. The military was the lifeline of the Emperor’s power. A tight grip had to be kept at all times. I may have been split into separate branches, but she still worried. How long would it last? Isra shook her head. She just broke her thoughts and re-entered them. They were were problems that would come when she was long dead. It could be put off. Getting back to work, she ignored everything other than the documents in front of her.

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"No." Abu said firmly, not sparing the offer a thought. Issac felt his lip twitch and sighed, taking a seat before him.

"Things are different now, my friend. You’re not the man, yo...."

"Don’t say it. I am still that man. It is my punishment. I will continue to punish myself until death. I’m sorry, Issac. I won’t become a Duke of this land. I told you, my name dies with me. I won’t have children to carry it even if I did accept."

Issac scoffed and shook his head, "Fine. Ignore the joys of life because of your past. People grow, they change. You suffered enough for what you did. You helped those who couldn’t. At some point, you have to realise that you have atoned. I just hope it won’t be when you die." Issac got up and patted Abu’s shoulder before walking off.

"Wait." As his hand reached for the doorknob, Abu called out. "Thank you. I won’t accept, but it doesn’t mean I can’t help with the problem." Issac raised his eyebrow, and Abu chuckled, "The problem is administrators for the land. Sure, we can rotate people in and out to stop power being consolidated. We already do. But you need someone to actually own it. I can provide the people. When they die, their children pay a tax on the inheritance. You can make it law."

"Make it so each generation will have to work to recover their wealth. It will avoid stagnation." Isaac caught on quickly and nodded. I will think about it. It could work, but it needs fine-tuning." Isaac opened the door and took a final look at Abu. "I will call for you when I need you." Abu nodded and smiled, seeing him out. Turning to face Edward, he smiled, leaned back, and picked up the book he was reading.

Issac walked through the palace halls. Instantly, he arrived at the office next to his and let himself in. Desmond looked up in confusion and put down his pen. "Prime Minister," Desmond said politely and got up, pouring Issac and himself a drink.

Taking a seat on the sofa in the room, the two looked at each other, with Issac analysing Desmond. "You’re an ambitious man, Desmond. Aren’t you?"

"I’m sorry?" Issac chuckled, hearing his reaction.

"I mean, being mayor of Far Mile provided you both money and power, albeit limited power. And yet you gave it up. Gave up the immense wealth that position brought to work as a, and I mean no offence, glorified secretary."

Desmond coughed and chuckled, not expecting it. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t deny Issac’s words. "I guess so. What’s your point?"

"You realise where true power lies." Issac ignored him and continued, "Money is great, but it’s limited. Anton is the exception, of course. He controls the money; he doesn’t work for it. Which brings me to my point: What brought you here? Giving up everything you had. And be honest."

Desmond felt his heart race. He could tell it was the moment he was waiting for. The chance to climb his way up the ranks of the Empire. It was a gamble, one he calculated to be in his favour, but a gamble nonetheless. Calming himself, he tried not to let his excitement show.

"I liked Far Mile. Being in charge suits me. Some men don’t like listening to reports for hours, but I have no problem. A system can only work when every part is dedicated to its role. But obviously, if that were all, I would have never come to the Palace. No, what I wanted was a chance. A small chance to be at the pinnacle. Of course, I am loyal to the Emperor and would never dare vie for his place, but to be one of his trusted advisors. Well, my voice could help shape the future of the Empire. Is there no greater thing?"

Issac could tell there was no falsehood in Desmond’s sword. The man was a bureaucrat through and through. He had been around high society, but it was nothing compared to Issac’s years of experience dealing with people who said one thing but meant another. "The chance to help shape the Empire. That’s all?"

"Is there any other reason to have power, Prime Minister. With that money and luxury comes my way. I like money, I like luxury. That is why I did a good job with Far Mile. I will get more money if I can help make the Empire prosperous. As we prosper more because of my help, I get more power..."

"Which brings you more money." Issac finished his sentence, getting Desmond to nod. "An acceptable answer." Issac leaned forward, his eyes going cold. "But this ambition would never turn to the Emperor, would it?"

"Of course not." Desmond answered cooly, "I am underserving of the sit. Of course, I imagined myself in it, but I know it is not for me. I am a person who belongs in the backrooms doing the work others do not wish to do."

"Good." Issac’s attitude changed like a flip. With a happy smile, he leaned back and stared into the man’s eyes. "Desmond. How would you like to become a Duke?"