Chapter 243

Abelus slammed the table.

“Damn it!”

His anger was understandable. The defensive line the Imperial Family had thrown together had been breached like dry reeds, and territory after territory had fallen into the hands of the Maindulante army.

And that was before factoring in how little support was coming in—despite threatening the nobles by dragging their children in against their will.

“Your Highness… Your Highness. Please, calm down.”

Today, only the two of them were in Megara’s room in the Crown Prince’s Palace. Megara spoke softly, soothing him the way Abelus liked these days. He calmed a little, but sparks still flew in his eyes.

“How can those who strut around as nobles be this incompetent? If they’d just catch Cledwyn, everything would go back to normal. But they can’t even do that!”

The “normal” Abelus meant was the court atmosphere he imagined: everyone respecting the Crown Prince, trusting his ability, and the Imperial Family having enough money—like the days before Princess Camille was pushed out of state affairs.

The reason he’d stopped trying to look cool and dignified in front of women, and instead preferred this kind of unconditional gentleness, was probably the gap between his ideal and reality. Maindulante—whom he thought he could pressure into surrender quickly—kept driving south. How could he not be humiliated?

Megara read Abelus’s thoughts as if they were written in her palm. His way of thinking was ridiculous, but his simplicity was also convenient. If Abelus weren’t so hopelessly dull, would he have moved exactly as she prodded him to?

“Oh, of course—if Your Highness had stepped in personally, this would have ended long ago. But how common is someone as brilliant as you? Since Your Highness can’t handle everything in the world alone, you have no choice but to tolerate, with generosity, the failures of the foolish and incompetent.”

Is that so?

Abelus’s expression shifted with interest, though his irritation still lingered.

Megara looked up at him with an angelic smile.

“Your Highness, there are still many noble families with resources. But the reason they haven’t come forward yet is because they’re gauging how determined Your Highness is—aren’t they?”

“Gauging? They dare, when the Crown Prince has ordered it?”

“Yes. Truly presumptuous. So please give me a little time. I know my academy classmates well, and I’d like to persuade their families. Since Your Highness is determined to punish the northern rebels this time, those who participate actively will surely receive suitable rewards.”

Megara had not forgotten what Alecto did at the last salon. She hadn’t complained to Abelus—following her father’s advice and her own judgment—but that only let her resentment ferment.

This proposal was half driven by that.

‘Persuasion, my foot.’

The Lykeandros family was involved in military affairs, so they had a rough sense of how many troops other families could produce. Every house concealed the exact number of their private soldiers, but estimating the scale was not impossible.

Right now, the Marquess was quietly investigating the forces of the families who had humiliated Megara last time, including Count Isalani’s. With the right excuse, she planned to make them squeeze out everything they had. Megara was simply laying groundwork, so that when the day came, her credit in Abelus’s eyes would grow.

Abelus didn’t seem fully convinced. He looked down at her, sullen.

“Meggie. Weren’t you still unable to get into my aunt’s house? Can you really do it?”

After Nerys’s visit to the capital, great nobles had collapsed one after another as if coordinated, and Grand Duchess Moriah had become the center of society these days—whether that suited her temperament or not.

Whether from Imperial pride or because she was close to Nerys, Grand Duchess Moriah did not allow Megara into her mansion. That remained true even though Megara—exaggerating only slightly—was being treated like an Empress as Abelus’s sole woman.

Megara’s smile stiffened for a beat as he poked her sore spot. Then she restored the angelic expression Abelus was used to and assured him.

“Of course. Even if it isn’t the Grand Duchess’s house, there are many places where my friends gather.”

“Really? Good. My Meggie… I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Abelus finally looked satisfied. He murmured a few tender words, then rose and left.

Megara watched him go, then crossed her arms, her expression turning cynical.

‘Foolish things.’

Did they really think Megara would stand still after being ignored like that?

Yes—Abelus needed noble power right now. And yes—Megara had to swallow a certain amount, even if those she once dragged around behind her now looked through her. It wasn’t like Camille’s maids, who’d ignored her as a former mistress. Her academy classmates had made a rational judgment.

But what, exactly, was rational about what was happening now?

She would make every one of them pay for ignoring her—no matter what it took.

While she was lost in thought, a servant in gorgeous attire arrived. He hovered by the door, embarrassed, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. Megara tossed him a gold coin.

“What’s the news?”

This servant was one of the people Megara had bought as she expanded her influence at court, and he currently worked in the Empress’s Palace. He checked the coin, then smiled as he reported.

“Her Majesty the Empress is searching for a new Crown Princess candidate.”

After Natasha’s disappearance and Megara’s arrival, the elders of the Imperial Family had never stopped looking for a Crown Princess. Megara had been trying to keep Valentin out of that position. She raised an eyebrow coldly.

Under the unspoken pressure to stop circling the obvious, the servant hurried on.

“A strong candidate has emerged. They’re looking into her. I heard she was supposed to arrive long ago as one of those summoned, but her family keeps making excuses and hasn’t sent her yet. I didn’t hear her exact name.”

“Summoned?”

Then she was one of Megara’s classmates.

Megara thought for a moment, then lifted her brows.

“Dianne McKinnon?” (T/N : DONT FUCKING TOUCH DIANNEEEEEE!!! )

Some families valued time together far more than their child’s social debut, and they delayed departure with one excuse after another.

It was unexpected—but plausible. What the Imperial Family needed most right now was money, and the great houses that once had it had already fallen.

A murderous intent rose in Megara’s chest.

Yes—money mattered. That was why she’d sent Abelus to the club in the first place. The problem was that it hadn’t worked.

But Dianne?

Was the Imperial Family saying a girl like that could climb so easily into the position of future Empress? Megara ground out her words.

“Her Majesty the Empress is too proud to suddenly bring in a child who’s neither from a great noble family nor a relative. She’ll probably dislike her the moment she sees her. She’s only looking at candidates one by one because she’s in a hurry.”

“Is that so.”

The servant was quick and said no more. Megara tossed him another gold coin, her voice sharpening.

“But either way, it would be difficult for Dianne McKinnon to take that position. She’s a child who doesn’t listen to me. If Dianne really comes, report her schedule with Her Majesty the Empress. Watch her closely and give me the general details.”

If she was going to get her hands dirty, it was better to move before the girl arrived.

❖ ❖ ❖

Nerys placed a horse on the map spread across the table.

Thud. The crisp, light sound rang out as Hilbrin reported, chest puffed proudly.

“His Grace the Grand Duke has won another great victory. The lord who surrendered offered five hundred horses and a thousand soldiers, and among them, the infantry are—”

Since Cledwyn’s departure, it had been nothing but victories. Every day, more pins marked with an “M” appeared on the enormous map laid out in this quiet conference room. The gray horse representing Cledwyn—advancing through imperial lands that once held no markings at all—continued pushing south.

Nerys often came here. She would sit on a small chair beside the map, as she was now, and spend the day staring down at the shrinking Empire, thinking. When people of rank—those permitted to see such a detailed map—came in, her current pastime became listening to their reports, moving horses, and placing new M-shaped pins.

Cledwyn usually won easily—either by using spies his Shadows had planted in advance, or by presenting an overwhelming force the enemy couldn’t resist. There were almost no casualties on the losing side, and their supplies and troops were absorbed into Cledwyn’s strength as-is.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Behind the gray horse driving toward the Empire’s center, Nerys added small horses marked with numbers. White crystal horses for infantry. Red crystal horses for cavalry.

Seen from above, it looked like a massive arrow aimed from the Tipian Marquesate straight at the capital, Pelena. When Cledwyn first invaded the Tipian Marquesate through the Illopium Gorge, the army he commanded had never been small, but now the victories had piled up so fast they no longer had enough horses to mark the troops. They had to keep making more.

And the horses didn’t represent only Maindulante’s army. The gray horse was about a quarter of the way between the Tipian Marquesate and the capital, and near it, small navy-blue horses sat on key territories—placed where important figures were stationed.

“Thank you for the report. If you have concerns, tell me anytime. You’re the expert.”

Nerys spoke while looking down at the map at an angle.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Hilbrin—responsible for overseeing military affairs across the entire north while Cledwyn and Aidan were away—answered carefully.

“Actually… I’m concerned because the proportion of troops conscripted from occupied territories keeps increasing. I’m afraid it will become difficult for His Grace to use them.”

Defeated soldiers could not have liked their rulers. And soldiers defeated “today” were now being forced to fight alongside soldiers defeated “yesterday.” It was fortunate there had been no major massacre, but junior officers on the front lines were likely struggling to suppress internal clashes.

Hilbrin chose his words with care. He did not want to sound as if he were denying the greatness of the Grand Duke he respected.

Nerys glanced up at him and smiled easily, her eyes curving.

“Don’t worry about that. Talfrin will already have people he trained in advance spreading rumors among them.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“Rumors about the truth of the Three Heroes. I even took several complete copies of ‘Betrayal’ and told them to reread it if they got bored.”

Propaganda.

Hilbrin had no doubt that the Grand Duchess he loved was descended from the “real” Three Heroes, but he also couldn’t imagine discontented soldiers readily swallowing a story that favored the occupiers.

“Will they believe it?”

“It doesn’t matter whether they believe it sincerely. As long as they cooperate with us, there will be those who take the lead in shouting that they believe—because they want to ease their own hearts.”

And as time passed and they grew accustomed to Cledwyn’s prowess, they would become sincere later.

Hilbrin’s expression brightened.

“You are wise, Your Highness.”

“Talfrin devised the details. It’s the Shadows’ specialty.”

“Is that so… Then this is the underworld’s work. Come to think of it, where did Talfrin go?”

Nerys picked up a round crystal horse and placed it in the capital.

Thud.

“I sent him to the capital. No one but Talfrin can handle how complicated the situation has become.”

In wartime, it was normally unwise to have Talfrin—who commanded the Grand Duke’s Shadows—leave his post. But hoarding talent and ruining a crucial task was worse.

“It’s about time the Empress stepped in. She must be anxious—two of her bloodlines vanished so suddenly. But I have to make her understand that if she even dares to look at my Dianne, she’ll get dirt in her eyes.”

(T/N : There we go again, Talfrin going to Dianne. See, author is setting them up!!)

The great nobles had fallen. Money was scarce. Even if the Imperial Family seized all of House Elandria’s assets, it wouldn’t be enough. The amount Nerys had diverted through Abelus’s gambling debts was considerable, and war was hard even when the treasury was full.

So the Imperial Family would want an unconventional move. Nerys hadn’t yet received a report on the Empress’s exact thoughts, but she knew her mother-in-law well from her previous life.

Someone who prized safety first. Someone who didn’t care about anything else, as long as her authority stood above everyone’s.

And without money, authority collapsed in an instant. How could the McKinnon Trading Company—swelling like a monster as it devoured the vacancies left by fallen houses—not be tempting?

“Just the Imperial Family at best… daring to.”

The McKinnon family had been given a hint long ago, for a situation exactly like this. Nerys looked down at the road between McKinnon County and the Imperial Family on the map, her eyes turning cold.