TRCR 31

Yulian smiled gently, speaking warmly.
“I’ve been reflecting on the kindness Your Majesty has shown me. It dawned on me that I’ve never truly pleased you in return.”
“For the Rotanders Empire, your mere existence is a joy, so don’t think that way.”
Zahidra leaned back in his chair, uneasy, unable to read Yulian’s unusually deferential demeanor. It was unprecedented.
Unfazed, Yulian casually lifted a coffee cup.
“Unique aroma.”
“It’s made from new Bongani beans, sent as a tribute before market release. The flavor grows on you.”
“It does. Lingers in the mind.”
Yulian kept circling the point.
Growing impatient, Zahidra pressed.
“So, why are you here? This isn’t like you.”
“To think I’d upset Your Majesty, whom I so admire.”
Flattery? Yulian Johannes is flattering me?
Zahidra stared, stunned, at Yulian’s captivating smile.
He wore his usual crisp white shirt and fitted black vest, accentuating his physique. But today, a thin red ribbon replaced his tie—a trendy choice in the capital, though Yulian never followed fashion.
I thought it tacky, but on him, it’s striking.
As Zahidra inwardly admired Yulian’s appearance, Yulian finally got to the point.
“I came to declare that my mind is made up.”
“Made up?”
“Yes. As of today, I renounce the temple and pledge myself to Your Majesty.”
“You’d abandon the temple?”
Zahidra, thinking he misheard, asked again.
Yulian spoke clearly, each word deliberate.
“Indeed. I’m forsaking Defria’s blessing.”
“What… You think you can defy the gods so easily?”
“I’d expect Your Majesty to be thrilled, yet you seem hesitant. You’re not wrong, though. Even if I oppose the temple, whether my blessing is revoked is up to the gods.”
“You never budged when I tried persuading you. What changed your mind?”
“Let’s say someone inspired me…”
Yulian had long planned to topple the temple’s power. Preparations were nearly complete, but hesitation held him back.
What am I without the gods?
Fear of losing his status as the blessed Johannes duke made him waver.
Ironic, wasn’t it? He’d spent his life struggling to escape the gods’ shadow, yet when the chance came, he clung to his meager privileges.
Pathetic coward.
Ashamed of his weakness, Yulian felt he’d sacrificed nothing for the Johannes family compared to Rebecca.
When he heard she threw herself down the stairs, it hit him like a blow.
Rebecca was fearless. With only her body to offer, she risked it all.
He realized he’d never sacrificed anything for his desires.
“Would you understand if I said it’s to be free?”
Her calm words, paired with a steely smile, radiated resolve.
Before her, Yulian shrank, feeling like the boy who lost his nursemaid.
Thinking of her, his heart raced, pain flaring again.
He feared collapsing one day.
So, like Rebecca, he decided to cast everything aside.
Nothing is gained without sacrifice.
More afraid than ever, he also felt more alive.
“Yulian, why so dazed? Who inspired you?”
Zahidra pressed for an answer.
Something was off today.
The greenhouse was temperate, yet Yulian’s cheeks flushed.
Zahidra signaled for cold drinks, and a servant brought herb tea and lemonade.
Yulian picked the tea, smiling cryptically.
“It’s a secret for now. But you’ll know someday.”
“A woman, perhaps? That time at the…”
Zahidra recalled Yulian dancing with Rebecca at a victory banquet.
Noticing, Yulian quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, I heard you handled my last request perfectly. My thanks are late.”
“It wasn’t hard, but when will you explain why?”
“That’s why I’m here. Didn’t I say I’d stand by you?”
“You’ve always been on my side.”
Yulian frowned briefly at Zahidra’s sly smile, then continued.
“True. But now I’ll prove it.”
“How?”
“I plan to dismantle the temple.”
Zahidra’s gentle gaze turned sharp, like a hawk spotting prey.
“That’s a conversation I welcome.”
Yulian glanced at the silent servants.
Zahidra nodded, and with one gesture, they vanished from the greenhouse.
As the last servant closed the door, Yulian clasped his hands on the table.
“Do you remember the Kadhir religion?”
“Before Defria’s rise, right?”
“As Your Majesty knows, Kadhir wasn’t false, despite what’s said. The Defria pope slandered it, leaving that stigma.”
“So, you’ll revive Kadhir?”
“No. I lack the power and reason. But…”
“But?”
“We can learn from the past. Defria will fall the same way Kadhir did.”
Zahidra’s mind raced audibly.
Yulian smiled.
“Kadhir fell due to overly strict doctrines. Defria rose quickly because many resented Kadhir.”
He sipped his iced tea, the cool herb scent filling his mouth.
In a calmer tone, he continued.
“Defria’s on the same path. It drew people with hedonism—free pleasure, appealing. But lately, it’s gone too far, undermining state discipline.”
“Exactly. Their constant meddling is a headache.”
“Don’t worry. Defria will collapse under its own greed.”
“How?”
“We need a new religion. Not to replace the state religion overnight, but a reformed Defria.”
Zahidra flinched, his sharp gaze scanning Yulian.
Yulian met it briefly, then whispered.
“We have the Montblanc Club, don’t we?”
Zahidra’s eyes widened.
The New Defria Brotherhood, or “Montblanc Club,” was his brainchild from his crown prince days.
His generous funding of seminaries wasn’t charity—it bred scholars who’d challenge Defria’s corruption.
As planned, the seminaries produced rebels against the current Defria order.
Zahidra gathered them into a secret club.
Initially, the scholars feared his intentions.
But his words clarified everything.
“Shouldn’t everyone freely taste the luck of Montblanc cake?”
The clever scholars caught on.
After debate, they swore allegiance over Montblanc.
The club became Zahidra’s tool to check the temple, exposing its misdeeds and restoring faith’s true form.
They planted spies in every temple, aided victims of the temple’s abuses, and won them over.
New nobles, oppressed by old aristocracy, noticed the club—intentionally leaked by Zahidra.
They eagerly joined, funding its operations.
A subtle power struggle emerged: old nobles and the temple versus the emperor and new nobles.
Yulian had long dug into the temple’s weaknesses.
He noticed others were either ahead or trailing him in the same pursuit.
Intrigued, he traced them, discovering the Montblanc Club and Zahidra’s backing.
The enemy of my enemy is my ally.
Yulian, long holding the truth, now opened his hand.
“Do you know the painter Barinika?”
“Of course. One of the empire’s finest. Don’t change the subject. How much do you know about the Montblanc Club?”
Zahidra’s smile vanished, his tone chilling.
Used to his jovial side, Yulian found this new emperor intriguing.