Secret Rooms

From the moment Ian arrived at the royal palace, the depleted guard ranks were refilled, and the defensive force increased even further.

Ordinarily, this would have allowed the capital’s army units that had filled the palace to withdraw, but with safety still not guaranteed, three thousand soldiers remained garrisoned in the palace.

With the palace guard included, a total of 3,800 troops were stationed there, creating an extremely tense atmosphere. Amid this, Ian summoned Leni, who had accompanied him on vacation. He had intended to keep her with his mother and sister, but as chief lady-in-waiting, she needed to oversee the maids.

“Leni, sorry to call you in.”

“It’s all right, Your Majesty. You have a task for me, don’t you?”

“The usual, but stricter—have the maids comb the palace for anything out of place.”

The palace guard and the secret police Mauter had already investigated the palace, but meticulous maids might notice different things. Since the maids handled ongoing upkeep, Leni might find oddities more easily.

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll mobilize the maids properly and find it.”

“Confidence is good, but move together with the guards.”

“Understood. I’ll go at once.”

Ian nodded, and Leni left the office. Watching her go, Ian noticed the familiar piles of documents. Returning felt good, but there was a mountain of backlog.

‘Tried to set a mood, but it’s back to work for me.’

He was about to ask Mardin to bring the files, then stopped—he had already tasked Mardin elsewhere. Ian went himself, lifted a stack from nearby, and set it on the desk.

A valet could do it, but unlike Mardin, valets never moved in lockstep with him; that slowed processing. He would handle it himself and have a valet collect the finished papers afterward.

It had been nearly two weeks since he last took up his pen. Ian dove straight into work. All across the realm, others were similarly busy pursuing their own goals.

Five days had flown by since returning from vacation. Ian had cleared the backlog. The daily volume was now average, but his eyes ached from reading so much.

After nearly five days out of sight, Mardin entered the office, looking apologetic for not having produced more satisfying results.

“My apologies, Your Majesty. This is all I could find…”

“Even this is useful, is it not?”

The report contained various findings. There was nothing on the secret passages, but there were details about secret rooms within the palace unknown to Ian—apparently constructed during renovations by his grandfather and by his father.

“To have made places like these—what were they for?”

“Private spaces, I would assume.”

“We’ll know when we look. Did they talk easily?”

“At first they kept silent, but when I told them it was for Your Majesty’s safety, they eventually spoke.”

“Did they.”

He suspected threats and pressure had also been used, but since Mardin did it out of loyalty, Ian let it pass. In any case, he resolved to inspect those secret rooms.

“I didn’t expect there to be one in here.”

Ian stood abruptly, then walked to the wallpapered section between a bookshelf and a painting. According to the notes, he had to press the spiraling curve in the pattern.

He pressed steadily; nothing happened at first. It wasn’t meant to open instantly. Mardin stepped up.

“Your Majesty, allow me.”

“It’s fine. I can do it. The note said to keep pressing for one minute.”

After a minute, he heard the faint clack of machinery; the wall receded inward, then slid aside to reveal a passage. Lights in the ceiling flicked on by themselves.

“Oh?”

“Hmm, so that’s how it works.”

“Shall we see what’s inside?”

“Could it be dangerous?”

“Doubtful. Come if you wish.”

Ian stepped in without hesitation, and Mardin hurried after him, warily alert—only for his vigilance to turn to shock.

“Ha… astonishing.”

How much did they stash away?

The room was about five pyeong in size. Inside, thick gold bars were stacked in heaps. Various artworks stood about as well—likely of high value.

Clicking his tongue, Ian also noticed metal shelving lined with elegant caskets. He opened one.

“Jewels.”

“Incredible…”

Each box brimmed with gems. When he scooped a handful, his hand sank deep and came up full; the stones slid back into the box with a soft cascade.

There were dozens of such boxes at least. How much had been siphoned off? Ian had thought the royal assets he’d inherited as king were enormous—this surpassed them.

‘So this was where the money went—hidden away.’

They had even taken most of what should have been his reward money and hoarded it here. To die and leave this all behind—what was the point? Without this incident, he might never have found the place.

Surprisingly, they didn’t kill the restorers.

That those workers who knew of this chamber hadn’t been silenced was unexpected. Whatever the circumstances, it seemed the exact purpose of the room hadn’t been disclosed to them.

“These are bearer bonds.”

Not every box held jewels. There were stacks of specially processed bearer bonds. He took one: fifty thousand grang. Enough to buy a modest townhouse.

If a single certificate had that value, then altogether this was an immense sum.

Truly a rich country, as they’ve always said.

For the king to have hidden away this much—and the nation still ran and developed—left him shaking his head. Corruption had been rife, and the king had been worse.

If this had been invested legitimately, how much further could they have advanced?

Though that was never going to happen.

Rulers greedy for money existed in every age; a king who gave was rare. Ian, for his part, was of the giving sort. As a reincarnator, he found hoarding pointless.

‘You can’t take it with you when you die—why hoard it?’

“At a glance, this is in the hundreds of millions.”

“Hundreds of millions… astounding.”

“Care to take one?”

“No, Your Majesty. I have no need.”

His salary was already substantial; Mardin felt no temptation. Ian chuckled and looked around the chamber, then spoke.

“We’ll reclaim all of this for the national treasury.”

“Not as royal assets?”

“The royal coffers are already full. As state funds, we can put this to use more easily.”

Royal revenues from oil rights and more were already overflowing; he had no desire to hoard. Better to build infrastructure.

“Doesn’t this look perfect as a wine cellar?”

“Pardon? You’d use this as a wine cellar?”

“It seems fitting.”

Entertaining guests here would be amusing; their surprise alone would be worth it. With that thought, Ian left the secret room with Mardin.

“We’ll deal with this later. Let’s visit the next secret room.”

What might be there? He felt a prickle of anticipation. They closed the panel and moved on, arriving at another door. This had once been his grandfather’s office.

Of course the most-used, nearest place would have a secret room.

Ian entered and gripped an ornate golden sconce on the wall, twisting it. It only turned with considerable force—stiff with age. Given the era, the mechanism was likely ancient; would it still work?

Grind—

A much louder noise than before, and the door slid wide open. Amused, they went in. The lights came on again—but dimmer, as if fueled by magic.

The glow was faint—perhaps the mana stone was nearly depleted.

Likely they had used a mana stone no larger than a grain of rice. Inside, again, were heaps of gold bars, shelves, and elegant caskets.

He opened them: all manner of gems, packed to the brim—but no bonds this time.

Grandfather collected plenty as well.

That neither had told their descendants spoke volumes about their greed for gold and jewels.

“This should also be reclaimed for the treasury. As for the empty space—what shall we use it for?”

Hearing again that it would go to the state, Mardin could only feel admiration—and awe—for a king without greed. It was no easy decision.

They checked several other spots; aside from the two main chambers, most were small—little more than storage niches under a meter in size. Still, many of the palace’s secrets had now been uncovered.

“To think we’d find this. Let’s pick a day to share a proper drink.”

Holding a bottle of renowned vintage found in a secret nook, Ian sounded almost carefree. Mardin marveled—knowing full well the staggering value of what they had discovered.

As Ian set the bottle on his desk, a voice came from outside.

“Your Majesty, Chief Lady-in-Waiting Leni requests an audience.”

“Leni? Show her in.”

Leni entered. When Ian asked what was the matter, her words made his face harden.

“Your Majesty, one of the maids seems to have found something.”

“Found something? Traces of a secret passage?”

“Yes, that seems likely.”

“Let’s go.”

Ian had a sense that today was the day. If they had found traces of an unknown passage, it was likely the door through which the infiltrators had entered. He had scarcely returned to his office before setting out again.

They arrived at a third-floor room. White sheets covered the furniture—it was currently unused. Leni explained.

“This is one of the reception rooms Your Majesty ordered closed.”

“I see.”

“This way.”

She pointed. Guards, a maid, and several Mauter agents were already there. A fireplace dominated the wall—clearly long unused.

They bowed to Ian. Leni gestured toward the maid and explained.

“She’s the one assigned to clean this room. Since it’s closed, we only do a thorough clean once a month. This time, she noticed something odd about the fireplace.”

“Odd?”

“It hasn’t been used in years, but there was ash inside.”

“Is that odd?”

“Of course. Ash in a fireplace that hasn’t been lit? Someone’s been here. I ordered all royal maids to report even the slightest irregularity, and she did.”

“It does seem suspicious.”

It felt like a lead. Investigators examined the hearth with quick, careful hands. About twenty minutes later, one agent tugged on one of the iron bars of the grate—suddenly the whole section rotated.

“Oh?”

“By the gods!”

Everyone was startled. Ian, though, could only marvel at yet another such mechanism. The section rotated back, and those who had vanished beyond the wall reappeared.

At last, they had found the door the intruders had used.

‘We’ve finally got it.’