The court minister banged his fists hard on the table. His lips were curled into a snarl and his eyes looked like they were about to turn red with fury. He was one of the more popular nobles in the court, known even to the public as a key member of the king's court. Winter who despised most people had been surprisingly tolerant towards him. Although it was only something as basic as tolerance, Winter's attitude had unintentionally given him more power and a fanbase of loyal supporters.
Misha watched with trepidation as some of the ministers began whispering. The cremation had taken place without much fanfare because of how hard Misha had been pushing for it. As a result, many of the ministers had been left out of the loop and only found out a day or two after the cremation. The fallout was monumental. Many of the ministers were hoping to use the chance to secure more power for themselves. Thanks to Misha playing the role of guiding hand from behind the scenes, Winter had enforced a strict anti-corruption policy that some of the ministers were displeased with.
They used fancy words and barely passable excuses to cover up their greed saying things like, 'I need the extra money for my family' or 'I'm not compensated enough for my hard work'. Misha still scoffed at such people just like he had done in the past but he was starting to realize that much of his frustration came from the fact that he worked one hundred times as much as any of them and got neither recognition nor compensation.
Friendship really was a beautiful thing, wasn't it? It was because of friendship that he was in such a terrible situation. He only wanted to benevolently help out the son of his dead friends...why did it have to turn out like this?
"Misha! Are you listening to me?!" The minister from before had a complicated name that Misha often forgot.
"Jecharemel, don't shout..." One of the younger ministers said, trailing off at the end. His name was easy to remember- Mix. Unlike the rest, he seemed more interested in research than in politics so he was flagged by everyone as a neutral party. It was also thanks to him that Misha now knew what the minister's name was.
"I understand how you feel, Jecharemel but I did what I had to for the kingdom..."
"Don't mess with me!" He banged his fist on the table again. Was that the only move he knew to do? "You're just a lousy accountant, what right do you think you have to make such a big decision without consulting anyone?!!"
"But it's already done, isn't it?" This time it Sarles who spoke up. He came from a wealthy background and was a rather carefree individual. Not many knew because they barely ever interacted with each other in public but Sarles was probably the closest to Winter among everyone there. That was also why Misha was confused as to how well he had taken the news.
"There's no point crying or yelling about it now." Sarles continued, "It is true that he is just an accountant but he knew Winter longer than most of us. Winter also trusted him so it would disrespectful to push all the blame on him."
"Do you think this is a joke?" Jecharemel was sadly not one to back down. Once he entered his excited state, bringing him back to the ground was nearly impossible. He was the type of person who would never admit they were wrong in the middle of an argument even if they realized it themselves.
"The King is dead! He's dead and we don't even have a body! There's no successor or next in line who can match his abilities. How are we supposed to convince the people to stay in line?!" In that situation, Jecharemel did have a point. If Misha hadn't been Winter's accomplice then he would have most likely agreed with him.
"Everyone calm down!" Another person dragged themselves into the conversation. This time it was Croma. Out of everyone, he was actually the most unreliable but he was also great at persuasion. On top of that- he had a crooked mind which aligned with the interests of the majority of them so most were willing to hear him out.
"We are now the only ones holding together this kingdom! If we who are the last defenders fall into chaos then who are the people supposed to rely on?!" He exclaimed passionately, standing up from his seat.
"Before we start worrying about the unnecessary things, let's prioritize the most important matter- finding a new King! Since there's no obvious next-in-line, we'll have to decide upon the King ourselves."
"But how are we going to do that?" Mix said quietly from the side.
Croma smiled as if he had been waiting for that statement the entire time. "Simple! We're going to hold an election!"
"An election?!"
The murmuring in the room increased tenfold. Even the ministers who would usually be on Croma's side looked pale and tense. Jecharemel was still standing up with the same contorted expression as before. Sarles leaned back against his seat and yawned. Misha clenched his fists and stared down at the ground- he had never felt more useless in his life. At the same time, there was something freeing about the idea of running away.
'I've already done so much. Isn't it okay if I rest now?' He thought to himself. As much as he wanted to protect the kingdom, Winter was gone with no method of communication and the ministers would ignore him like they always did.
'Let's destroy this kingdom then.'- The words echoed in his mind. It was a thought that made him want to rip all his remaining hair out. He wished he was young and bold again. If he could go back to being his twenty year old self then he would leave the room confidently without looking back but old age had made him more vulnerable and afraid despite the wisdom that accompanied it.
"Only the ignorant can live with unshakeable confidence..." He found himself muttering, unaware that he was audible to the ministers in his proximity. They looked at him with shock filled eyes but he was too busy staring at the ground and contemplating life to notice.
At last, he turned to the minister sitting right beside him. "Tell me what you decide later." He said half-heartedly before standing up and heading towards the door.
"Wait-" The minister called out, trying to stop him but he had already left the room and closed the door. Besides with all the noise, it was hard to hear him anyhow. The absence should have been noticed immediately but even if it was, nobody seemed to pay it any attention.
The conversation soon devolved into a debate between Jecharemel and Sarles as the others played the role of awe-struck spectators.
***
Misha returned to his room after that mess and had promptly fallen asleep. When he came to, he could see a part the full moon glowing through his window. He sat up straighter, hoping to try and see the entire thing at once.
"You're finally awake, huh?"
The sudden voice made him jolt. He turned towards the door to see Sarles, once more leaning casually against the wooden doorframe with his signature arrogant smirk.
"I can't believe you really left that meeting."
Misha frowned, becoming more comfortable now that he knew who it was. "It's not like they missed me. I'm done playing the role of dedicated hard-worker."
"Hmm I see. It took you quite a while to reach this point. It's something to be proud of."
'Pride?' He wondered if he even had any pride left.
"Aren't you curious about what they discussed while you were gone?"
"Not really."
"Sorry that was a pointless question." Sarles stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Because I'm going to talk about it either way."
"What do you want?" Misha was starting to feel annoyed. He was sick of being weary and anticipating the next tragedy.
"They've decided upon the election. All the ministers can propose a candidate of their choosing and then we'll vote on it. Apparently this will help us produce 'a fair and unbiased result'."
"What a joke."
Sarles smiled at Misha's slip-up. His nonchalant attitude wasn't a phase, after all but was he really going to step out?
"I agree. They're going to manipulate it somehow and then play innocent like they always do."
"So why are you telling me this?" Misha asked, throwing off the blanket that had still been draped over him and putting his feet on the floor. He looked like he was debating whether to stand up or not.
"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Sarles had posed the question with a feeling that the answer had been determined already. He might seem carefree and spoilt but he was also keenly aware of certain things.
"You said it yourself. It's stranger that I've endured this for so long. I no longer have the heart to keep up with these scheming bastards." Misha stood up, heading towards the pitcher of water on his desk.
"I see." Sarles smiled, heading towards the couch and flopping onto it like he was back at his residence.
"What now?" Misha asked with a sigh. His back was still turned away from Sarles as he poured himself a glass of water but he had noticed Sarles taking a seat.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Stop the games and hurry up." Misha muttered, filling up a glass and turning back around. Sarles was still sprawled over the couch, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Winter. He's still alive, isn't he?"