Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 313 The Dragon Throne Meeting in the Emperor's Absence

The morning fog had not yet completely dissipated, and glimpses of the fog were reflected on the windowsills of the Iris Tower mansion.

Eleanor Calvin sat before the mirror, quietly letting her maid comb her hair. Her dress was neatly layered, and the gold buttons under the blue satin were all perfectly aligned.

Her gaze fell on the thin pages of intelligence spread out on the corner of the dressing table. She blinked lightly and then silently recited the seventeen secret reports that had been delivered the night before.

"The Ministry of Finance held a closed-door meeting last night; the agenda is unknown."

"The Regent has set up a new procedure for receiving guests in the palace, and even his personal knights have to ask permission from all sides before they can get close to him."

"The Overwatch Council raided and detained a former knight of the Heran family in the Ninth Hall of the Inner City. His identity is unknown."

……

Eleanor did not frown; even the movement of her brow bone remained as calm as ever.

Only his posture was a little straighter than usual.

Six months is not a short time, and the situation has begun to change.

Some people couldn't contain themselves and started making underhanded moves.

But these tests are still private, subtle, cautious, and have not yet crossed the line, like taking the first step carefully on a frozen river.

It seems that the nobles in the capital still retain the most basic patience.

After getting dressed, Eleanor, surrounded by guards, went to the restaurant and looked out the window.

A flock of swift birds has been flying over the capital city, heading to various destinations, a sight that has been ongoing for half a year.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, she found the fragrant green tea warm and the waitress gently placing a loaf of toast spread with apricot jam in front of her.

Eleanor gripped the silver spoon, stirred it twice, but didn't drink a drop.

Her thoughts continued to flow, like a slow but never-ending undercurrent, quietly intertwining in her mind.

The Dragon Throne Conference has resumed today.

The topic had been circulating for a week: the death of Edmund, Lord Governor of the North.

Eleanor closed her eyes.

It wasn't out of shock, but out of mourning for an old adversary and ally.

How many nobles today are willing to disregard everything and remain loyal to the empire?
Edmund is one of them; he deserves the title of Shield of the Empire.

They defended the northernmost city of the empire to the death, what a pity.

What surprised her, however, was the young man who succeeded Edmund as the "powerful figure in the North"—Louis Calvin.

Eleanor had almost no recollection of this nephew before he went to the North.

But now, at just over twenty years old, he has become the most powerful person on the northern edge of the empire.

After Edmund's death, the power in the North was handed over to him almost seamlessly.

Eleanor rarely praised anyone, but this time, she couldn't help but sigh in her heart: truly, the younger generation surpasses the older.

The rewards for the last great battle have not yet been fully determined.

Her duty today is to fight for what he deserves.

It's not just about confirming the Red Tide Territory's status; at the very least, it requires a promotion to a noble title.

This was a task personally given to her by her brother, the current head of the Calvin family.

It's both a strategic move for the family and a bargaining chip for Calvin's future in the North, a way to win a crown.

His understated explanation in the letter still echoes in her mind.

"If there's an opportunity, bring up the matter of the title... but there's no need to put in too much effort."

A subtle thought stirred within Eleanor's mind.

My brother's attitude is getting more and more interesting.

He wanted a piece of the pie in the North, but he was unwilling to take any risks, or even to truly tie himself to Louis.

His subtext was all too familiar: "It would be best to get some benefits, but it doesn't matter if we don't. We can't afford to spend real money on that frozen land."

Is this because they don't want Louis to slip out of their control too much?

Or did he never see the North as a worthwhile place for long-term investment from the very beginning?
My brother's thoughts are always hard to fathom, and I don't need to know them myself.

Eleanor took the gloves and walked slowly out of the mansion.

The wind was still biting this morning, and the edges of the cloak fluttered slightly.

The carriage passed through the morning mist in the heart of the capital and entered the golden avenue lined with bronze knight statues.

Outside the car window, the majestic dome of the Imperial Palace was faintly visible, like the back of a sleeping giant, silent and solemn.

Eleanor sat quietly in the carriage, expressionless, but a barely perceptible emotional fluctuation flickered in her eyes.

Six months ago, she also wore a cloak symbolizing the Calvin family when she went to the Imperial Hall.

The meeting was chaired by His Majesty the Emperor himself. The hall was filled with the fragrance of dragon's blood, and under the almost suffocating pressure of the Emperor's will, no one dared to utter more than ten words.

Eleanor was merely a "mouthpiece" at that time, simply reading out her brother's opinions, regardless of the outcome.

The emperor will naturally make the final decision.

Eleanor adjusted her gloves, a weary smile appearing on her lips.

Now she can not only speak, but even influence the direction of meetings.

As representatives of the eight major families, they clashed fiercely with other representatives.

With the emperor gone, the old order crumbled...

This is the stage for politicians.

The carriage stopped, and she slowly stepped down, passing through layers of golden guards and banners, and entered the Imperial Hall amidst the echoing of the morning bell.

The Imperial Hall remains as solemn and timeless as the legends have it.

This temple-like meeting hall, built with a massive stone dome, is adorned with a giant alchemical chandelier.

The blue flame still leaps from the center of the ring, having burned for 373 years without ever going out, symbolizing the eternal will of the empire.

The four walls of the hall are inlaid with twelve emblems symbolizing the glory of an ancient empire, from the broken dragon shield of Dragonbreath City to the crescent moon spear of Darkwind Ridge, all petrified memorials of a thousand-year lineage.

As she slowly walked to her seat, she glanced at the badges she knew all too well, feeling no awe, only irony.

After all, most of these descendants of nobles who symbolize so-called order now hide their knives in their sleeves.

Even Heng Huo couldn't suppress these restless ambitions.

Moreover, the throne is not present.

To be precise, the "Obsidian Throne," carved from a single block of obsidian, still stands atop the highest steps of the hall, like a deity looking down upon the mortal realm.

But after Emperor Ernst August disappeared, no one dared to sit on it anymore.

The eldest prince, the nominal regent of the empire, now sat on a high chair in the center of the long table, his face pale, his breath weak, and his eyes barely able to focus.

Eleanor glanced at him, a recent intelligence report flashing through her mind: "Someone attempted to poison the Regent, but failed. The details are unknown."

Judging from his current appearance... it's probably true.

In just six months, some people couldn't wait any longer, and the progress was faster than they had imagined.

Inside the hall, the scent of dragon's blood had long since disappeared; that deep, noble, and intimidating fragrance had vanished completely at some point.

Instead, there is an invisible musty smell of power, a damp atmosphere brewing from various forces.

Eleanor walked across the long table and sat down at the Calvin family's seat.

She didn't immediately look at the documents on the table, nor did she nod to any acquaintances. Instead, she gently placed the back of her hand on her snow-white gloves and glanced at everyone present from left to right.

She was observing, and she was also recalling. Six months ago, Eleanor had sat at this same table, even in the same spot.

Back then, when the emperor was still alive, people were a hundred times more cautious than they are now.

What now?
Those who had previously "only dared to bow their heads and repeat themselves before the emperor, pretending to be deaf and dumb" were now sitting up straight and speaking loudly, one after another.

Especially those noble representatives from the western and southern borders of the empire, whose territories were far from the center.

He used to be cautious and timid, but now he has sharp eyes and a beaming smile.

In contrast, the once imposing civil servants now mostly look haggard with deep-set eye bags.

Mays of the Overwatch Council was an exception; he remained seated upright like an ice sculpture, as if nailed to his seat.

“Civil service is being depleted, while local power is expanding.” This was Eleanor’s clearest conclusion at that moment.

With the emperor gone, the Imperial Hall was no longer a majestic stage, but a long table for dividing meat.

Some were eager to try, some remained inactive, and some pretended to be calm...

Eleanor's gaze swept past the Regent's seat; the frail figure was still struggling to maintain his composure, as quiet as ever, yet as meaningless as ever.

"This is not a meeting of the dragon throne, but a hunting ground for power."

Eleanor picked up the warm teacup and took a small sip.

But aren't I also a hunter?

At that moment, a faint sound of footsteps broke the silence, interrupting the nobles' tense breathing.

Lin Ze, the Imperial Household Steward, slowly emerged from the shadows.

His face was thin, and his footsteps were silent yet impossible to ignore.

Even though the emperor had been missing for half a year, this old man still dutifully fulfilled his role as the representative of the empire's will.

Eleanor lowered her head slightly, her gaze calm. She was not close to the steward, but she could not help but show him respect.

This was the head of the Privy Council who remained in office under three emperors and was said to be nearly two hundred years old.

Even though the throne is now empty and the empire has no ruler, the Imperial Hall remained silent when Lin Ze unfolded the scroll of mithril paper.

Until he began to read:
"Item One. It is hereby confirmed that the Governor of the North, Duke Edmund, was wounded and died in the Battle of Buried Bone Canyon."

His achievements during his lifetime, the stability of his rule, and his contributions to resisting barbarian disasters on the empire's borders were awarded him the rank of Imperial Order of Merit.

However, after his death, a military and political vacuum existed in the northern border, and there was no successor in the province, so arrangements for his succession needed to be discussed.

Beside the noble table, a silent rustling sound arose as some nobles gently turned over official documents in their hands, or tried to conceal their excited expressions.

"Agenda Item Two." Lin Ze continued reading before the echoes faded:

Regarding the achievements and rewards for the "Northern Barbarian Disaster," the Imperial Capital Merit Records Office, the Ministry of Military Affairs, and the Control Yuan jointly submitted their reports for review.

The level of commendation will be determined based on combat merits, stability, and logistical contributions.

Among them, the Independent Noble Knights of the North and the Imperial Knights, among others, performed exceptionally well and were included in the list of those to be rewarded.

Lin Ze spoke in a neither loud nor soft tone, as if he were merely dissecting a frozen corpse and reading its history.

Finally, he slowly rolled up the silver paper.

The meeting has officially begun.

At the beginning of the meeting, several border marquises put forward some innocuous suggestions:

Examples include rebuilding the Northern Post Road system, erecting monuments to commemorate those who died in the Northern war, and providing limited tax breaks to the North.

Some were approved quickly, while others were shelved due to the need for further evaluation.

The noble representatives behaved politely and spoke respectfully, as if this were still an orderly and stable empire.

The meeting proceeded in a calm and uneventful atmosphere, with no one bringing up the vacancy of the Governor-General of the North or the post-war power structure.

This is the expected lukewarm phase.

Eleanor Calvin sat quietly at one corner of the long table, her eyes lowered, waiting calmly.

Suddenly, a calm yet measured voice broke the silence: "Lord Louis's war achievements and post-war contributions are evident to all. Should he be awarded a medal and a knighthood?"

All eyes turned to the speaker, the Marquis of Asheville, a moderate old nobleman from the Southwest Province, who on the surface had no connection with the Calvin family.

But at this moment, he is speaking up for her.

A barely perceptible glint flashed in Eleanor's eyes.

This opening remark was made after she secretly visited him a few days ago, exchanging the port tax revenue from Southeast China for it.

And that was her primary objective for this trip.

To secure the title of Earl of the Empire for Louis, without getting involved in the power struggle.

After all, her nephew Louis was too young, only in his early twenties, born into a pioneering noble family, and had risen from an unknown baron to the de facto ruler of the North in just four years.

Adding the title of Imperial Governor would only expose him to the envious and hateful gazes of everyone.

Instead of using the taboo term "governor," the focus is on military achievements and promotions.

In the current chaotic power structure of the empire, this is the furthest step it can take.

As long as the proposal is not rejected, even if no one else agrees, her mission is already half complete.

On the imperial steps, the regent prince leaned against the ebony armrest, his face pale and his eyes bluish.

He's not a person who can make decisions, at least not now.

He tilted his head slightly and asked a few questions in a low voice to Ling Ge, the "royal attendant" beside him.

Ling leaned closer and whispered in his ear; no one knew what he said.

A few breaths later, the Regent, supporting himself on the edge of the table, struggled to his feet. His voice was weak, but he still tried his best to maintain royal decorum: "Louis Calvin... is hereby granted the rank of Earl for his bravery in the campaign in the North."

The hall was silent.

Then a few people gave a soft round of applause, not enthusiastic, but no one objected.

However, many nobles wore cold expressions and their eyes concealed contempt.

"Earl? He's been promoted again?"

"Only four years? They've really made it fast to establish a shortcut for the nobility."

"Tsk, all he did was defend a barbarian fortress and he got promoted... It seems that it's easier to rise to power in chaotic times."

"But so be it. The North is a place of freezing cold, not worth a few copper coins. Being a baron in the South might be more comfortable for him."

They sneered inwardly.

They didn't object to Louis's promotion, but expressed their disdain in a hundred ways, as they had always looked down on titles from the North.

Eleanor saw it all clearly, yet she maintained the posture of a neutral observer, nodding slightly as if to thank His Majesty for his "mercy."

But she slowly breathed a sigh of relief.

Goal achieved.

Although the title of Earl is not the same as that of Governor-General, it elevates one from a provincial noble to an imperial title.

This means that Louis has legally obtained the authority to transfer troops outside the province and the qualifications for military service.

The Calvin family has already placed this pawn on their new chessboard.

But just as she was about to calmly take a sip of her drink and celebrate this stage of victory...

A sudden voice interrupted her thoughts.

(End of this chapter)