Chapter 1337

Carissa was livid. The stress felt as if it might sprout gray hairs right then and there. No wonder court officials aged prematurely—Jeremiah, barely in his sixties, already possessed a head full of white hair.

Frustrated, she sought out Jeremiah, hoping he could influence Salvador and speak on her behalf. The prime minister greeted her with his usual calm, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Already upset?"

"I wouldn't dare say upset," Carissa replied, "but this delay is slowing everything down, and I fear we'll lose the advantage. Worse, we might alert the enemy. His Majesty still doesn't trust me."

Jeremiah leaned back, unruffled. "It's only natural that he doesn't trust you completely. Even if you were in his position, would you believe everything someone under you said without evidence?"

"But he has no evidence that Prince Hayden is plotting treason either, yet he's constantly wary of him," Carissa countered.

"That's precisely why he's wary—because there's no evidence. If there were proof, action would have been taken already. Many things in court are far more complicated than you think. Every decision takes endless debate among the ministers. A policy might take a year or more to push through. And the riverworks project is already nearing completion by year's end. Do you think His Majesty can halt it now and order the arrest of all officials involved without solid proof, merely because you suspect treason? Even if you convinced His Majesty, you'd never convince the rest of the court," Jeremiah explained with a soft sigh.

Carissa's face fell. "But Mr. Judd's land-grabbing is blatant! Anyone could investigate and uncover it easily."

"That's not land-grabbing," Jeremiah corrected patiently. "Those areas were approved by the court for temporary shelters—simple housing for the conscripted laborers working on the riverworks project. The land can be reclaimed at any time."

Carissa sighed. "So, you think I'm overreacting?"

Jeremiah's gaze softened. "I believe your instincts, Lady Carissa. And I agree something about this situation feels off. But when it comes to decisions that impact the court and the people, I would also require evidence before acting."

In other words, he trusted her personally, but as prime minister, he needed evidence to act.

Jeremiah continued, "You may not fully grasp what the riverworks project means to His Majesty. The lands surrounding the capital are heavily cultivated, yet heavy rain leaves them flooded. Water stagnates, causing landslides and claiming lives. Even the streets of the capital—yes, even the royal avenues—are flooded every few years. If His Majesty can fix this during his reign, it will be an outstanding achievement. It's not just a personal legacy; it's a public good that will benefit generations and alleviate the immediate struggles of the people."

He glanced at Carissa's still-troubled face and chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It's good for the young to have drive. I like seeing your energy and decisiveness. But don't let setbacks make you bitter. Everyone in power faces challenges unique to their position. No one—not even the king—can afford to trust anyone completely based on one perspective alone. And frankly, if he were the type of ruler who did, you'd have even more reason to worry."

Carissa knew Jeremiah was right. People's hearts were inscrutable, and every official walked a tightrope. If ministers had to tread carefully, how much more so for a king?

"Fine," she said, rising. "I'll find the evidence. I only hope I can uncover it before they storm the palace."

Jeremiah offered a reassuring nod. "Don't be so pessimistic. Now that you've mentioned Prince Nicholas and the riverworks project workers, His Majesty will undoubtedly keep a close eye on them."

"Watching them isn't enough. The riverworks project workers might just be part of it. I'm afraid there could be others involved. I'll keep digging," Carissa replied.

Without waiting for further counsel, she spun on her heel and left, her exit as swift and fiery as her resolve. Jeremiah watched her retreating figure, a faint smile playing on his lips. Her youthful energy reminded him of his own early days in court. He, too, had been determined to charge ahead, right every wrong, and follow his instincts no matter the obstacles. But he had faced walls, learned that instincts could falter, and found that even evidence could be misleading. Over time, he had grown cautious, his youthful fire tempered by the weight of experience. Was that change a blessing or a curse? Perhaps it was both.