The Prime Minister gestured towards the table, where the ledger lay open. The pages were covered in writing, detailed notes, and figures that mapped out tax and other transactions—proof of corruption that had weaved its way through the noble class like a poisonous vine. Mikhailis knew this ledger inside out; after all, Rodion had analyzed it and assisted him in compiling the handwritten information.
But, of course, only Elowen was aware of Rodion's existence, and Mikhailis had no intention of revealing that secret.
"You've made some rather interesting deductions here, Prince Mikhailis," Aelthris began, his tone polite but probing. He tapped the ledger with a finger.
"It seems you've identified irregularities in the financial records, discrepancies that no one else had managed to pinpoint. I am interested in understanding your methodology—how exactly did you arrive at these conclusions?"
Mikhailis looked at the ledger, then back at Aelthris, the faintest smile playing at the corners of his lips. He had expected this; the Prime Minister was not someone who would take things at face value without questioning every detail.
He glanced towards Elowen for a moment, catching the flicker of tension in her eyes, before he stepped forward, his casual demeanor seemingly unaffected by the weight of the situation.
"Well, it's not really that complicated," Mikhailis said, scratching the back of his head, feigning a nonchalance that he knew would be both annoying and disarming to Aelthris.
"I basically analyzed it mathematically. You know, numbers don't lie, and it's just about finding the patterns." He motioned towards the chalkboard positioned in the corner of the room, the one that was often used during royal council meetings for planning or explanations.
"Do you mind?" Mikhailis asked, gesturing towards the board.
Aelthris nodded, though he seemed skeptical.
"Go ahead."
Mikhailis walked over to the board, picking up a piece of chalk, the familiar sensation giving him a sense of comfort. He knew how to play this part. He began by drawing a series of symbols and equations—some genuine, some intentionally convoluted to make them look overly complex. He started speaking, his voice carrying an odd mixture of enthusiasm and aloofness.
"So, I basically started with these data points—each transaction, each movement of funds. And from there, I calculated averages, deviations, and projected patterns based on historical data that I gathered... well, from my world." He paused, giving a small smile that suggested an innocent kind of arrogance.
"Back home, we had these sorts of situations where we'd use mathematical models to track anomalies. Think of it like... finding where the ants are taking the food, even if the path isn't always straight."
He continued writing, drawing lines and diagrams to illustrate his points. As he spoke, Mikhailis made a point of mixing in just enough jargon from his world to make it sound both logical and obscure. To most people in the room, it would look as though he was calculating something that made sense—though only vaguely, enough to suggest he knew what he was doing, without giving away the full picture.
"You see, when you compare the income reported here," he said, tapping the chalk against one of the entries on the board.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
"with the expenditures listed here, there's a gap that shouldn't exist. And when you follow this up with a historical progression..." He drew an arrow, connecting two points.
"you can see that it diverges from the normal expenditure curve. It's like if you suddenly see a beehive producing more honey than the number of bees inside would allow. Someone's taking it, or the records are simply false."
As he continued explaining, he noticed how Aelthris's eyes narrowed, watching him closely. The Prime Minister was clearly assessing not just the information but also Mikhailis himself—trying to decide whether he was capable of such deductions or if it was simply luck or, perhaps, a lie.
Queen Elowen stood beside Aelthris, her gaze fixed on Mikhailis as well, though her expression was softer. He could tell she was both proud of him and pleased that he was maintaining this air of unpredictability. Aelthris trusted her judgment, but even she understood that if Mikhailis presented himself as too capable, the Prime Minister would want to pull him deeper into political games.
She had already asked much of him; the last thing she wanted was for Mikhailis to become a pawn in Silvarion Thalor's never-ending power struggles.
"Now, this," Mikhailis said, pointing towards a complex equation he had written.
"is something that comes from statistical analysis—don't worry, it's from my world. A formula that basically calculates the probability of discrepancies occurring naturally. And here..." He circled a number.
"the probability is so low, you might as well say it's impossible without manipulation."
He turned back to face Aelthris, dropping the piece of chalk into the small tray at the bottom of the board.
"So, in short, I found that the numbers were wrong, and I backtracked to see where the manipulation occurred. It's not perfect, but it gave me a starting point."
Serelith's gaze softened, a hint of something deeper flashing across her eyes. She looked at him for a moment longer before nodding, her lips curving into a small smile.
"I suppose you're right."
Mikhailis leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Besides, it's not like I'm doing this alone. I've got my secret weapon," he said, tapping his temple, referring to Rodion without actually saying it.
Serelith gave him an inquisitive look, but she knew better than to pry. She merely shook her head, a smile still playing on her lips.
"Just don't get yourself killed, Your Highness."
Mikhailis chuckled, stepping back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Don't worry. I'm way too stubborn to let that happen." Experience exclusive tales on empire
He turned his attention back to Elowen, who was now finishing her conversation with Aelthris. She caught his eye, and her lips curved into a soft smile—a smile meant just for him. He walked over, closing the distance between them, and gave her a short, respectful bow.
"Is there anything else you need from me, my queen?" he asked, his voice softening, all traces of his earlier bravado disappearing as he spoke to her.
Elowen shook her head, her gaze warm.
"No, Mikhailis. You've done more than enough." She reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm in a gentle, almost fleeting touch.
"Thank you."
Mikhailis straightened, his eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. He could see the depth of her gratitude, her appreciation for his willingness to do what needed to be done, even if it meant playing a part that kept him on the sidelines. He gave her a small, genuine smile, his voice soft.
"Always, for you," he said.
Elowen's eyes softened, and she nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she turned away, her attention returning to Aelthris and Vyrelda.
Mikhailis took a step back, letting out a soft sigh as he glanced around the room. Lira was still watching him, her expression unreadable, while Serelith stood nearby, her eyes glinting with amusement. Rodion's voice echoed softly in his ear.
<Analysis: Successful evasion of deep political entanglement. Probability of maintaining current level of influence without becoming a target: increased by 12%. Well played, Mikhailis.>
Mikhailis couldn't help but smile, his gaze shifting to the floor as he responded quietly.
"Thanks, Rodion. It's nice to hear I'm doing something right."
<Observation: Even a broken clock is correct twice a day. Do not let it get to your head, perverted Mikhailis.>
Mikhailis let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.
"Yeah, yeah. Just keep me updated on what's next."
He looked back towards the queen, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her. There was still so much left to do, so many challenges ahead. But for now, he had done what was needed. He had protected her, protected their shared secret, and kept himself out of the tangled mess of politics that threatened to consume them all.
And for now, that was enough.
Or so he thought.