A maid hastened to the residential area upon hearing the instruction.
"Let's have a chat in the meantime; the party doesn't start for a while," Councillor Carter suggested, picking up a bottle of champagne and offering it to the three siblings.
"Is your father in commerce?"
"Our father served in the army on the Northern Continent in his early years, then joined the Navy's Scorpion Squad. He retired as a navy captain and now runs a farm."
Elyon passed the champagne to his sisters. Mention of the Scorpion Squad caught the councillor's attention, who then remarked.
"The Scorpion Squad, eh? Then your father and I have served in the same force, in a way. I hail from the Navy Fleet. Your father has made a brave, dignified exit. I'm sure with a few more years of service, he would have garnered even greater accolades."
One could only hope to survive long enough to earn those accolades, Elyon mused internally.
As the front hall began to fill with people, the Carters went off to greet other guests, leaving the siblings to relax in a corner, enjoying the pastries.
About twenty minutes later, Mrs. Carter, with a blonde, blue-eyed girl dressed in a sea-blue gown and accompanied by two companions, approached the siblings, who were indulging themselves. The golden-haired girl giggled behind her hand upon seeing them.
"Mr. Elyon, this is my daughter, Annie. I hope you'll get to know each other," Mrs. Carter said, introducing the blonde girl.
"Good evening, Miss Annie, and happy birthday," managed Elyon, swallowing the last morsel of pastry before speaking.
"Good evening, Mr. Elyon. I thought the party tonight would only feature my father's friends. It's rare to see a novice gentleman," Miss Annie said, teasingly suggesting Elyon was unaccustomed to such high society.
"These are my younger sisters, who are just a year your junior. I believe ladies have more to talk about amongst themselves," Elyon deftly shifted the attention to his sisters.
"That might be true, Mr. Elyon. Perhaps you and my father have more to discuss."
Miss Annie's tone was slightly mocking, as if she perceived Elyon as an ambitious outsider trying to climb the social ladder at a high society party.
"Gentlemen, may I borrow this young man for a moment?" An elderly voice resonated from behind, belonging to a man in a black tailcoat, sporting a high silk top hat and puffing on an ivory pipe.
"Long time no see, Mr. Russell. By all means, you two go ahead and talk," Mrs. Carter responded.
Coming to Elyon's rescue was his mentor, Professor Russell, who appeared to have arrived unnoticed.
Elyon excused himself from his sisters and followed Russell to a secluded spot under a plane tree in the courtyard.
"Greetings, Mr. Russell. It's been a while since we met."
"I perhaps shouldn't have invited you here; it appears you're not quite comfortable in such social settings," Mr. Russell said, taking a puff from his pipe.
In truth, Elyon thought, it was the week's salary spent on a gift that stung. He played along. "I'm just an extra here; the main attraction is you, isn't it? You've kept your status quite hidden, sir. I had no idea you were such a pivotal figure."
"Me? I'm just an outlier in my family, the unwelcome one in the aristocracy. How do you see our country?"
"If I had to sum it up in one word, it would be 'stable'."
"A super-stable upper echelon formed by the Church, the royal family, the aristocracy, and the burgeoning capitalists. Take tonight's gathering, for example; isn't everyone here either rich or noble? Yet under the same sky, countless workers at the docks and in the industrial zones toil away their days for meager sustenance, while many farmers are ruined by debt and forced to become vagrants in the cities."
"It's hard to equalize wealth and poverty."
"Here, the pots are full of oil and flowers are in bloom, all paid for by the sweat and blood of the lower classes. In the eyes of my father, my brother, and those gentlemen in the two houses of Parliament, people are merely a material to keep society productive, just as firewood is needed to boil water. I can't sever my ties to my status, nor can I change this situation. So I hide away in the north of the kingdom, teaching at the academy to make a living," Mr. Russell said with a hint of pain in his voice.
"Why not establish a political party to fight for the people's welfare with your capabilities?" Elyon suggested.
"Political parties need financial backers. How do you think my father and brother became Prime Ministers of the kingdom? Just as non-powerful earls? Political propaganda and buying newspapers, even directly paying voters, all require fistfuls of pounds. The Conservatives and the Whigs may differ in governance, but they would never welcome another party to slice their political cake or dig at their roots. Threats, intimidations, even assassinations—I could be framed as a scoundrel who abandoned his family even as the Prime Minister's brother. People easily believe what they see," Mr. Russell said with a bitter smile.
"So... violent overthrow?" Elyon thought aloud, adding, "You could choose to burn all the old powers down and rebuild order."
"Many have contemplated it. You must have asked your father about the transcendents."
"Yes, he was a member of the former Scorpion Squad."
"The fighting ability of ordinary people is negligible before the transcendents. The most powerful force in this nation already counts among the rulers. You can't expect most people to give up their piece of the cake to carve out a slice for their impoverished brethren. Can you imagine your father dividing his farm among those dispossessed farmers? In this secluded place, I'll tell you—there are transcendents in the royal family strong enough to match an entire ordinary transcendent army. For all you know, the faces on the banknotes you use might still be alive."
After encountering the mysterious old man at the station, Elyon even suspected that angels might indeed walk this world, even though the eight true gods had not roamed the earth since the Iron Age.
"But they could also call down divine wrath and smite this interloper at any moment."
"Is this why you chose to mentor me, simply because I'm not a child of nobles or politicians?"
"In a way, yes. While I might not change the fate of everyone in the world, I can help with the future of my students. Elyon, you are a good person, and I trust my judgment."
Mr. Russell refilled his pipe, lighting the tobacco anew, and the smoke wafted up from the bowl. This seemingly carefree old man was actually an idealist without a cause.
Elyon wanted to enlighten him about "lamp posts" and "armed struggle," but as a mere passerby, he withheld his words. As a police officer, he was powerless to resolve these contradictions.