episode_0035
by fnovelpia
35. The Whining Sovereign
“Do I really have to go?”
Erica, whining with her face buried in my lap.
She had been throwing a tantrum earlier when told she had to share quarters with the emperor.
After Vivian, Adel, and even Cecilia intervened to calm her down, she suddenly regressed into childish behavior—clinging to my thigh with her face pressed against it while gripping the hem of my pants, refusing to let go.
“Twyu-taa~…”
“What was that?”
“It was nothing.”
Her tiny 151cm frame pouting like this was adorable… but I mustn’t forget.
This woman is my boss—practically a four-star general in military terms… someone whose mere word could physically remove my throat from my neck…
Meanwhile, Cecilia watched this farce unfold as Erica clung to me while I tried to detach myself.
But Cecilia, too, seemed confused, unable to comprehend why the emperor had summoned me to his quarters.
She also looked somewhat displeased.
“…What could he be scheming, calling you to his private chambers?”
“Exactly! Even if it benefits us, it benefits him way more!”
Erica, still gripping my pants, agreed with Cecilia.
I wished she would let go during these high-level discussions and calmly converse like the power player she is.
But alas, my wishes remained just that—wishes—as Erica’s grip on my leg remained steadfast.
Instead, she slumped onto the floor, locking her elbow around my calf and settling in.
Then, adopting a deadly serious expression, she resumed her dialogue with Cecilia.
“Remember when those Oyeongje bastards got slapped around? Or the time they built pianos to show off?
And don’t forget our fox’s legendary achievements that spawned countless rumors…
If the emperor gets cozy with our famously treasured fox to the point of sharing quarters, it gives us the perfect pretext to intervene if anything goes wrong.”
“That’s true, which makes it even stranger…
If he’s handing us this much leverage, he must know full well we could easily become a second Oyeongje…”
In a low voice, Cecilia added, *”And he’s not the type to lie back and let his neck be bitten…”*
The two of them went back and forth, theorizing about the emperor’s true intentions.
Unable to follow, I wanted to leave, but Erica made that impossible.
“If he concentrates power in our hands, we could easily expel the Oyeongje… but he must already know we’d eventually swallow the imperial family whole…
Perhaps the more plausible interpretation is that he’s devised a countermeasure to prevent us from growing too powerful.”
“I concur, my ally… This is turning into a headache.”
“Agreed.”
Gradually wrapping up their discussion, the two women engaged in a glare-off.
Their narrowed brows and intense stares resembled outlaws about to draw pistols in a duel.
Well, except for Erica’s ruined intimidation factor, since she was still clinging to my leg like a cat despairing over a broken wheel.
Cecilia, with one eyebrow raised, made a suggestion.
“It’s growing late. My ally, shouldn’t you release him now?”
“He’s *my subordinate*! How can I let him waltz off alone with some outsider woman at night? You know full well how beastly women can be, Cecil.”
“It’s an imperial decree. Besides, this is necessary for our future.”
“That decrepit kite of an emperor can be refused if we manufacture grounds. And our fox is far more important than any emperor!”
Erica rebutted in a grave tone.
I appreciated her protectiveness, but invoking treasonous rhetoric was a bit much…
She was radiating a childish side I’d never seen before.
Perplexed, I shot Cecilia a bewildered look.
In response, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
“Apologies. My ally has gone slightly mad thanks to those Oyeongje scum.”
“I am NOT mad!”
Erica still found room to protest.
Cecilia exhaled deeply, then grabbed Erica by the scruff.
The height difference between them made Erica dangle like a scruffed cat.
After depositing her aside, Cecilia explained what had transpired at the banquet after my departure.
“After you left, the nobility’s gazes toward the Oyeongje turned venomous.”
I’d already heard the gist from Vivian, so I could roughly guess why the nobles were hostile.
With powerhouses like Erica and Cecilia showing aggression, others likely bared their fangs too.
But what intrigued me was what came next.
“The tension was palpable until—damn it, *oops*. Those blasphemous Oyeongje rats, in their death throes, played one last trick on the nobility.”
“A trick?”
“Goddammit, those worthless aristocratic brats!”
Erica, herself nobility, whined while locked in Cecilia’s headlock.
I’d grown accustomed to this, so I tuned her out and listened attentively.
“Instead, they demanded *we* pay *them* bribes.”
“Huh?”
Wait, what?
Shouldn’t the nobles be the furious ones here?
Then why were Erica and Cecilia lamenting the other nobles?
Noticing my confusion, Erica elaborated through her whining:
“They’re giving them *justification*!”
“Justification?”
“Yeah! If greasing palms lets those bastards keep their positions, they can easily procure imperial decrees!”
Ah, so it’s like that.
Maintaining the Oyeongje’s power rots the empire but benefits the nobility.
Like the medieval Catholic Church selling indulgences, they’d bribe the Oyeongje to buy decrees whenever convenient.
Yet I still didn’t get it.
“But if the empire collapses from this… Isn’t that bad long-term?”
Think of it like a bank.
Say you want more customers to amass more wealth.
The quickest way is to raise interest rates for depositors.
Sure, funds would flood in short-term, but eventually, payout obligations would drain the reserves, leading to bankruptcy.
So why would the nobility—major stakeholders—invest in their own ruin?
Was there an angle I was missing?
As these doubts swirled, Erica clapped and patted my head.
“See? You’re our clever fox! Or wait—are *you* the sane one and the nobles the idiots? The world’s gone mad, Cecil.”
“Surely not…”
I looked at Cecilia, my expression asking *Are you serious?*
She nodded, confirming my suspicion.
To rephrase the analogy—this wasn’t some startup bank but a longstanding corporate giant.
A *state-run* one, at that. And the noble stakeholders thought:
*”LOL, like it’ll fail? Instant profit, bro.”*
Totally dismissing the possibility of ending up with Zimbabwean-dollar toilet paper.
“How foolish.”
“Sigh… You’re right. Most nobles are fools.”
“How many brainless sheep are out there?”
But not *all* were idiots.
Some nobles were content with acquiring imperial favor; others fiercely opposed it, splitting factions into infighting.
This inadvertently extended the Oyeongje’s expiration date.
Naturally, Erica and Cecilia’s frustrations boiled over, hence their lingering rage… but why was Erica still making that *tywuu-taa* noise?
“My ally has adored sweets since childhood. Without them, stress triggers migraines.”
Ah, so *that’s* why younger Erica always carried snacks.
Having succinctly explained, Cecilia muttered under her breath:
“Though part of it might be jealousy over the emperor sharing quarters… Then again, I’d fret too over such a subordinate.”
“Huh?”
“Pay it no mind.”
Is murmuring inaudibly some noble etiquette?
Uneasy, I grabbed the bow and quiver left nearby.
Since I was ostensibly escorting the emperor’s messenger, I’d been instructed to arm myself.
As I slung the quiver—packed with explosive arrows—over my shoulder, Vivian offered solemn advice:
“Even if it’s His Majesty, assault is assault. If you’re uncomfortable, say *no* clearly.”
Half-joking, but her expression was dead serious—more so than when I’d left to duel Lyonel Penrose.
Erica, still restrained by Cecilia, added:
“Repeat after me: *All women are beasts*! Though you won’t be truly alone, who knows what could happen?!”
“Hic…”
“Back me up, Vivian! You know women are beasts!”
“Y-yes… All beasts…”
Vivian trembled like a sinner before Erica.
True, she *had* pounced on me that night, but it was a one-off, so whatever.
As melancholy crept in, Erica seemed to regain composure and saw me off.
“At least you won’t be *truly* alone with the emperor. Small mercies.”
“Heh… I doubt anything like that will happen.”
“Right. Surely the emperor invited others for a reason.”
Perhaps because this was an official escort mission, Erica avoided her earlier tantrums, adopting Cecilia’s measured tone.
Bidding farewell, I opened the door—
“Ha! Damn, you’ve grown! Long time!”
“Long time no see, Your Grace!”
Two strikingly tall women stood waiting—had they come to greet me?
The redhead who once visited wielding a giant sword now held a 3-meter spear one-handed.
She playfully headlocked me, rubbing her ample chest against my scalp.
Who else but—
Taisie Wents?
Liliana Pendleton’s sworn younger sister, the youngest of the trio.
Still inseparable, I see…?
“Wents… This is an official occasion.”
“Tch, second sis is so uptight…”
The green-haired, green-eyed woman wearing an emerald scarf—
—effortlessly holding a blade longer and broader than Vivian’s glaive—
was the composed middle sister: Ellara Laverno.
Though startled by the aggressive greeting, I was just as pleased to see them.
My resentment toward Liliana had long since faded.
“It’s been ages, Ellara, Taisie! How have you been?”
“You remembered us? Thought you’d forgotten after making a name at House Grace!”
“Talent is innate, after all.”
As we exchanged lively greetings, Liliana approached with an awkward smile.
She gave me a silent nod, signaling restraint.
“Ellara, Taisie. We aren’t here as friends tonight. Compose yourselves.”
“Apologies.”
“S-sorry, big sis. Got carried away…”
The two warriors, towering over Liliana (except in bust size), cowered before her.
With a single word, she separated them from me and smirked.
Her smile radiated warmth, yet carried a serpentine shrewdness…
As I pondered this, Liliana’s gaze shifted to Erica behind me.
Erica had turned to stone, shocked by whatever she saw.
Liliana gave her a slight bow.
“Lord Erica—on my honor and that of my sisters, we shall safeguard your treasure. Rest assured.”
“Y-you—!”
Something in Liliana’s words flicked a switch—Erica gritted her teeth audibly.
She seemed livid, though Liliana just sounded like a polite sales rep.
Maybe the sugar withdrawal made her irritable?
Before Erica exploded, Cecilia intervened again.
Grabbing her by the scruff and covering her mouth, Cecilia addressed Liliana:
“So His Majesty got one over on you.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do…”
Huh? Their pleasant exchange carried an undercurrent of tension.
Was this another political duel? I tuned out.
After some back-and-forth, Liliana approached and gently patted my back.
“I’ll guide you. This way.”
“What’s going on?”
Liliana smirked.
“Absolutely nothing.”
As we left the noble quarters, Erica’s furious voice echoed behind us:
“I *knew* it—that milk-bloated wench is the least trustworthy of all!”
What on earth did Liliana *do*?
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