Sovereign Folly: Part 5
It got worse.
Two days had passed since Gilford’s conference. After lying about how the conference went, Gilford set off to try and grab as much money as possible to ease the blow the kingdom’s treasury was about to take due to the upcoming wedding. As much of a conniving dick he is, he couldn’t consciously ruin so many people’s livelihoods and do nothing about it. He could, however, ruin the lives of those he believed (usually) deserved misfortune: the rich. And what was the one thing that universally fucks people over?
Taxes.
Without any sense of logistics or empathy for the wealthy, he raised taxes for the wealthy by 800% and declared the payment to be due immediately. After all, they have a lot of cash, on them, what have they got to lose? But that wasn’t the end of it. Oh no, far from it. He then began a “fundraiser” for the wedding, using Desmond’s good name as guilt trip ammunition to goad the citizens into paying up. By doing so, he would acquire enough money to offer extra funding to the kingdom’s military and add a buffer to the soon-to-be-wiped-clean treasury. To any panicking man, this would seem like a good idea at the time.
But Gilford soon had to face the consequences of his actions. Hundreds lost their homes. Riots and arson broke out over the sudden change in status quo. An underground slave ring was uncovered and everyone in it was arrested (well, okay, not everything was bad about this). The kingdom of Carus was going to be a pile of smouldering ashes if things continued.
“Gilfoooooooooord!” blared a voice in the distance. In this situation and in that tone, there was no mistaking who it was to the fake prince.
“Leon…!”
“What have you DONE!? What happened to getting money and supplies before bailing!?”
“Ah...change of plans?”
“Natz and I are out having a nice spaghetti dinner in the best restaurant in town, when suddenly I hear you increase taxes of the wealthy so high they go broke!?”
“Hey, it’s not like they didn’t deserve it anyway.” Gilford rebuked. “These rich assholes hardly do anything, sitting in a velvet armchair claiming that they’re helping everyone. Well if they wanted to make a real difference, they’d help out the people in the most derelict parts of town and let them into their huge-ass houses! They could even offer them a job-”
“They did.”
“Wha?”
“They’re most of the reason those in the slums aren’t swimming in an ocean of disease! They even offer some rooms in their mansions to stay in and offer a job!” yelled Leon, who was growing more irate by the second. “In fact I think only like, two of those guys you bankrupted were legitimately evil in some way.”
“...Oh.” mumbled Gilford. He remained quiet for a brief moment. “But what about the slave rin-”
“Run by a creepy shopkeeper in the slums.”
“Okay, how-”
“Gil, how did a weird potion brewer who sells almost negative potions per week somehow manage to pay up over 500,000 lunes for your little ‘wedding’ fundraiser?”
“...Ah.”
Leon pulled Gilford closer and pointed to a large house in the corner. There was a man in a white suit having a burning yard sale, with people carrying baskets of food lining up to trade with him.
“Look at that. I don’t know how you did it, but you somehow made the rich so bankrupt that the poorest people are buying their mansions with firewood and a freaking croissant basket.”
“Well, to be fair,” Gilford retorted once more. “croissants are pretty expensive around these parts-”
“You’re missing the poiiiiiint!”
The false prince took off his crown and gazed into his reflection. Leon was confused as to why, but understood that he was at least getting through to him. At least, he thought he was.
“...You’re right. I’m not gonna say I should have never done this, cause honestly I think it was going well for a bit.”
Leon’s confused smile faded ever so slightly, but he at least knew that his words reached him.
“I’ve known for a while now that I’ve fucked up pretty badly, you know.”
“You think?”
“I have an idea-”
“Oooooooh no, no, no, no, no! No more ideas from you, shitstain!”
“Will you listen to me!? I’m gonna need the help of Cassandra for this. And a certain someone…”
It was rather cold and damp in the jail cell. A feeling the young prince Desmond was far too unfamiliar with. After all, why should he be? He spent every waking moment of his life trying to be kind to those less fortunate than him. Why should he be punished to learn the stench of rat feces and rotting meat?
“I suppose mother was right about me after all,” Desmond sobbed. “No matter how many people I show kindness to, my good deeds will never go unpunished-”
A loud bang echoed across the dark chambers, with a bright light shining down from above the staircase leading to the rest of the castle.
“Hey! Prince boy! I, uh, kinda wanna talk.”
Desmond sprung up and grabbed a broken piece of a brick he found. He assumed a stance, prepared to throw it within the next split second. “You.”
“Yeah, hi! It’s...me. Your imposter.”
Desmond lowered the brick, but only slightly. “You admit it then…” he muttered, turning his back on the man. “What do you want with me now? If you’ve come to exile me, get it over with quickly.”
“Yeah, uh, that’s not happening.” Gilford unlocked the cell door and entered through it himself.
“...I beg your pardon?”
“I...wanna apologize.” Gilford sighed. “For impersonating you and sending you here. And for ruining your political meeting for protection against the war.”
“Screwed that up, huh? Well didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“I’m also sorry for turning your kingdom into an arson-loving death town.”
“YOU DID WHAT-”
“Hey! Hey! That’s why I need your help.” He took the brick from Desmond’s hands before he could raise it back up any further. “If you help me help you, you’ll never have to see my dashing face again.”
“And how do you suppose you and your gang of loons-”
“And one stunningly beautiful, tall princess.” Gilford added.
“...and one stunningly beautiful princess, yes,” Desmond couldn’t help but agree. “...fix all of this chaos!?”
“Easy,” Gilford laughed. “We walk right out the front gates.”
Desmond went silent.
“Okay, listen, I’m gonna make up a lie-”
“What else is new?”
“-that we’re gonna head off on a journey to rescue someone outside the kingdom. While we’re out I want you to come back in our place. Just make up something to wave off why my friends aren’t with you, like they died or something.”
“But imposter,” Desmond said. “How are we gonna explain the princess’ disappearance? It will be a lot harder to fake her death since she’s a well known face.”
“I dunno, that won’t be my problem.” Gilford said, tapping Desmond on the shoulder. “Let me finish. From there, you’ll be in charge, and I think the princess will have a liaison waiting for us. We’ll send him in after you and they’ll ensure whatever mistakes I made will be passed off as the imposter's doing.”
“Wait, you think!?” Desmond shouted. “You mean you haven’t even asked her yet!?”
“Look, she’s royalty and travels a lot, I’m sure she has someone she can talk to. You got everything? Okay, good, the samurai girl should set you up before we leave. Oh, and keep the prison smell. It makes it more convincing that you just escaped certain death.”
“But I didn’t even-!”
Gilford waved his goodbyes to the prince and left the cell. He climbed back up the stairs and slammed the door on his way out. All that was left now was to find Cassandra in the castle’s audience hall.
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Author's Notes
A story based on my Etrian Odyssey party that I wrote to vent out steam. Not much framework was used here, I just decided to flow with whatever I thought of first. I hope you enjoy the stupidity as much as I had fun writing it!