The Chessboard of the Future

A few days later, I requested an audience with the Emperor. It was ironic that a child needed a formal application to see their own parent, but considering our relationship wasn’t exactly close, it was understandable.

‘We’re just strangers with a slightly higher level of mutual trust.’

Even that trust was far from perfect. Since ancient times, Crown Princes have hungered to seize the throne, while Emperors have clawed to sit upon it forever. To an Emperor, his children were nothing more than competitors; he spent his entire reign guarding against them to protect his seat. Consequently, most successions only occurred after the Emperor’s death. The throne was something one refused to relinquish, even to their own flesh and blood.

‘Though I don’t even want the seat.’

Of course, before I regained the memories of my past life, I viewed that position as my natural destination—the place I was created to occupy.

But I was a man destined to die before that could happen, and I held no lingering attachment to a seat that didn’t look particularly happy. At the very least, back when I valued honor over happiness, I might have considered it an imperial duty.

If someone could overhear my thoughts, they might think me overly passive and pessimistic for constantly dwelling on death. I was human, too; deep down, I wanted to live. However, in the original novel, when I died, Chase—who had suddenly lost the object of his revenge—went to the Master of Poisons and asked:

—“Is there no way to bring the dead back to life?”

—“The soul has already crossed the River of the Dead. Unfortunately, unless it were your father, even I cannot touch that domain.”

—“……”

—“If you wish, I can put another soul into that body. But it will die soon. The poison that body drank is my very breath, and because your father meddled with it, even my power cannot detoxify it. Still, if it makes you feel better, I will find new souls to shove into it as many times as you like.”

Chase’s blood-red eyes had clouded with disappointment at those words, and remembering them brought me a similar despair. There was simply no way for me to survive. If I could summon Chase’s biological father, there might be a chance, but while I knew his name, I had no idea how to call him.

‘Furthermore, he is…’

I let out a heavy sigh of frustration. If I had finished the novel, would I have found a solution? But I had been reincarnated here without seeing the ending, so I remained in the dark.

While lost in thought, I arrived at the Central Palace where state affairs were conducted and stood before the Emperor’s office. A quick glance at the time told me I was a bit early. A servant informed the Emperor of my arrival, yet he kept me waiting outside the door until the clock struck the exact hour of our appointment. Only then was I permitted to enter.

“I greet His Majesty, the Light of the Empire and the Proxy of God.”

“Sit.”

The Emperor, his face a mask of dry indifference, motioned for me to sit on the sofa in front of his desk. Keeping his eyes fixed on his paperwork, he asked, “What brings you here?”

Since he skipped all pleasantries to dive straight into the main point, I matched his pace.

“I wish to select a study companion.”

The nib of the pen moving across the parchment came to a halt. After staring at the tip of the pen for a moment, the Emperor finally looked up and met my eyes.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

His skepticism was valid. Usually, companions were chosen when they were children so they could grow up alongside royalty. At twelve, I was quite late to the game.

Of course, the reason I hadn’t chosen one earlier was largely due to my arrogant and prickly personality. Soon after, Ethan had entered the palace and stuck to me constantly, naturally becoming my sole companion. Typically, a prince would have two or three. But as I said, no child could handle my temperament back then; only Ethan, being a cousin I didn’t treat as harshly, could manage it. It was only natural for the Emperor to find my sudden request strange.

“Why?”

“Is it not custom to have two or three? I have begun to feel that one is insufficient.”

Ethan might feel hurt if he heard this, but I knew this logic was the only way to persuade the Emperor. The Emperor’s expression turned peculiar—a look I had seen often since I woke up from my collapse.

“Strange.”

“……”

“I used to be able to read your thoughts. You were like me, so my thoughts were yours.”

As he said, we had been very similar. While I inherited the Empress’s beauty, my logic, personality, and life goals had all mirrored the Emperor’s. However, since my past life “awakened” and bled into my current self, the parallel lines I shared with the Emperor had begun to diverge.

“Now, I cannot tell what you are thinking. It’s fascinating. Why did you change?”

“……”

“Come to think of it, it started then—after you began protecting that child. What did that boy do to you?”

I didn’t answer. Even though my silence could be deemed impertinent, the Emperor didn’t force a response, seemingly finding my attitude interesting. With a faint smile, he finally set down his pen and leaned back deeply into his chair.

“Very well. Is there someone specific you wish to bring in?”

“I believe the son of Count Taranto is of a suitable age.”

“Taranto?”

The Emperor’s smile deepened. The choice of that house seemed to catch him off guard, making him even more amused. It made sense. Out of many noble families, the House of Taranto was…

“You are aware that the Tarantos are essentially the center of the Aristocratic Faction, are you not?”

“I am.”

“And yet, you choose his son?”

“Interesting. Truly interesting,” the Emperor chuckled, stroking his chin.

Because the Imperial family were descendants of God—and possessed “Authority” as proof—the power of the throne had never truly weakened. However, people always crave higher ground. Thus, an Aristocratic Faction naturally formed to oppose the Emperor. Their power was too significant to ignore, and since they remained outwardly loyal even if their hearts were elsewhere, they were difficult to either embrace or discard.

Choosing a boy from the heart of the opposition rather than from the many loyalist families clearly piqued the Emperor’s curiosity. He studied me with an intrigued gaze, his fingers interlaced.

“Fine. I shall grant it.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“You must have your reasons for choosing him. I shall watch with interest.”

With that, the Emperor lowered his head back to his documents. Recognizing the silent dismissal, I bowed and left the room.

Neither he nor I entertained the thought that House Taranto would refuse. No matter how much they belonged to the opposition, they lacked the reckless courage to defy an Imperial decree—even if they suspected the true motive behind it.

Of course, I hadn’t chosen him because of some grand conspiracy.

‘I’m just moving up the timeline of future events.’

I had already changed Chase’s future. I prevented him from being sold into slavery, but in doing so, I also stripped him of the opportunity to meet his lover.

‘Though that lover did end up betraying him.’

Judging by Chase’s personality in the original work, it didn’t seem like the lover played him for fun before jumping ship to the original Crown Prince. My guess? The Crown Prince—my former self—likely used aphrodisiacs or threats. It’s embarrassing to admit, but the original “me” was such trash that it was entirely plausible. Chase had been so shocked by the betrayal that he never even listened to the lover’s excuses. No one ever knew the truth; there was only the suspicion that the Crown Prince had rigged the outcome.

That treacherous lover was the son of Count Taranto.

‘Well, I’ll just have to see for myself.’

I would judge whether he was a piece of trash pretending to be a good person, or if he truly had an unavoidable reason for the betrayal. If it was the latter, I would bridge the gap between him and Chase. If it was the former…

‘He won’t be of much use to the Empire anyway, so I’ll just find an opportunity to dispose of him.’

With that thought, I returned to the Crown Prince’s palace. The next day, I heard that my request had been processed immediately and the Imperial decree had been dispatched to the Taranto estate.

It would take some time for the Count’s son to travel from their territory to the capital. While magic made travel convenient, he couldn’t just show up empty-handed when he was moving here for good.

I could have told him to come as he was and buy everything here, but there was no reason to rush, and doing so would only spike the Count’s wariness.

‘The Count’s head must be spinning right now.’

I smirked, imagining the Count agonizing over the decree. He was likely losing sleep wondering why I bypassed the loyalist nobles to pick his son—whether it was a hidden scheme or a move to use his son as a hostage to suppress the Aristocratic Faction.

The reality was that the Emperor didn’t care, and I didn’t bring him here for that reason, but the Count, unaware of this, was probably tearing his hair out.

‘Well, he’s the type of man who would abandon his own son even if he were a hostage.’