Chapter 260

A white dove cut across the autumn sky.

Guided by its homing instinct, the carrier pigeon returned to White Swan Castle, finally able to rest in its nest tonight. After a proper rest, it would once again cross the continent, carrying sorrowful news from the battlefield.

Nerys unfolded the message delivered by that carrier pigeon and smiled strangely.

“Is something amusing, Madam?”

Dora, setting a chair on the balcony so her mistress in early pregnancy could get enough sunlight, asked with concern. Nerys slowly sat in the chair Dora had just lined with a soft cushion.

“I have to adjust the plan a little. Talfrin says he’ll stop by Parish on the way.”

“Is that so? Even though you already made arrangements, Madam?”

When Camille was released from confinement, Nerys naturally expected her to take the lead in fixing what Abelus had handled so ambiguously. There was no reason someone who had already targeted Joyce once would leave it alone now.

So, in her daily conversations with Cledwyn, Nerys had asked him to send someone to protect Joyce in advance. Since Camille would likely strike just before Cledwyn reached Parish, Nerys told him to hide a few detachments there first.

After all, she knew Parish’s geography like the back of her hand. During her school days in this life, her mother had attended the Viscountess of Parish, and Nerys had exchanged letters with Cledwyn each time.

“It’s good Talfrin is going himself. Even though he’s a mess right now, we shouldn’t underestimate Silver Moon.”

What Nerys had known in the past was no longer reliable. The people who had played leading roles in her previous life were now supporting actors, or had left the stage entirely, and the balance of power among the nobles was very different than before.

She couldn’t let her guard down for even a moment.

Now she had to face the smartest enemy she knew.

Gazing up at the endless blue sky, Nerys spoke as if singing.

“Camille has to reorganize the Imperial Court, whether she wants to or not. With her personality, she can’t stand watching the Imperial Court in this state. And all the cards she used before are up for disposal. The balance of the Imperial Court, the face of the Imperial Family, the secrets of the past… If Nellusion helps, she can blind Abelus and reshape the entire empire however she likes. She must have come out because she’s ready to do exactly that.”

It was, in truth, an absurd idea. Power comes from the recognition of the governed. One person’s scheming couldn’t completely remodel the structure of an old empire to their taste.

But what if it wasn’t about ‘remodeling’ it, but about destroying it once?

Making something work was difficult. Destroying it was instantaneous.

And if, from the ruined remains, she only picked up what she wanted and planned to write everything again from the beginning—

“It’s not impossible. She’s the essence of a family that deceived everyone even without Elandria’s power, and if she fills the remaining seat on the altar, shaking the entire continent wouldn’t be a dream. When ambition grows that large, everything she once cherished becomes heavy baggage.”

But when that ambition shines too brightly, it also blinds you to the important things around you.

Thinking that, Nerys smiled. Dora, seeing that confident smile, was quietly impressed. As expected of Madam. She isn’t intimidated at all, even by something this enormous.

“It’s fine if the plan changes a little. I’m not a god. I can’t foresee everything. We should move in the direction the person on the ground thinks is best. If Talfrin rescues Lord Joyce himself and comes up with the McKinnon main force, that’s a blessing in disguise for us. Dianne will be safer too.”

Ah. Or maybe not.

Dora adjusted her assessment slightly. Madam’s smile looked more like satisfaction—relief that her most precious friend would be safer.

In truth, Nerys’s smile did come from satisfaction. Half of it was because she would see Dianne soon. The other half was because the Empress had shot herself in the foot.

According to Talfrin’s report, the Empress had persuaded Abelus to bring Camille out. And because of that, the perfect timing had been created for Joyce to join their side—bringing the McKinnon forces with him.

If the Empress hadn’t tried to summon Dianne so recklessly, and if Joyce hadn’t taken her place, this situation would never have formed. Would Count and Countess McKinnon—raised their whole lives as vassals of the Bistor Imperial Family—have agreed so easily to a plan that would bring all their power to Maindulante, if their precious daughter’s safety hadn’t been threatened?

How dare the Empress try to attach the most precious Dianne McKinnon in the world to a fool like Abelus…

If the Imperial Capital heard such a thought, they would be horrified, but to Nerys it was the most natural thing in the world.

Of course, this alone wasn’t enough to repay the Empress for her interest in Dianne. Only when Camille completely swallowed the Imperial Family—now a tattered lump of meat—would the Empress finally understand.

The consequences of laziness.

“Ugh, Your Highness!”

Someone shouted from the yard below the balcony, startling Nerys out of her thoughts. She sighed at the all-too-familiar voice.

Joan—who had been fussing over Nerys’s every move these days—called up in a hurry, as if she didn’t even have time to come upstairs.

“You have a blanket with you, Your Highness, right? You must never be exposed to cold wind!”

It was autumn, but with such bright sunlight, it wasn’t weather that warranted talk of cold wind. Still, Joan’s face was so full of affection and worry that Nerys couldn’t help laughing after a moment.

Dora, just as fussy now, draped a blanket over her. Nerys placed a hand over it, then looked up at the sky again.

She hadn’t told anyone, but she had been worrying about it.

A way to prepare for the magician Camille carried with her.

‘The curse I suffered was powerful, but there must be conditions related to distance.’

If it could be cast regardless of distance, Camille wouldn’t have waited to cast it on Nerys right before leaving the Imperial Capital.

‘And if it were only distance, she would have tried again already.’

There had to be something else. A difficult condition, most likely.

But in a crisis, they would meet that condition.

At least once.

Nerys believed one of Camille’s conditions was the ‘target.’ The last time Nerys had been trapped in the Seal curse and Cledwyn had stirred up the Imperial Palace, Camille couldn’t touch him—despite countless Silver Moons she had raised so carefully dying one after another.

‘The Emperor wasn’t dead, but he’s been bedridden since meeting Camille.’

Perhaps the target of the Seal curse had to be someone with Ja’an.

Or someone with the power of another race, since the Dragon had been sealed by the same curse.

If so, even in the worst case, Cledwyn would—

‘I can’t be satisfied with that.’

There was too much to consider, and every path was hard.

But Nerys would walk them anyway.

To protect the family she had finally gained.

❖ ❖ ❖

In the Imperial Princess Palace, where people could now come and go freely, Camille grasped the situation day by day.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t received reports before. But once her subordinates—and even nobles—were officially allowed to enter and leave, the quality of information changed entirely.

And as she absorbed that improved flow of reports, she sighed without meaning to.

“It takes talent to ruin things this thoroughly in such a short time.”

She knew Abelus was ruining the country. She knew Megara and Nellusion were throwing the Imperial Court into chaos, replacing pieces as they pleased.

But she had assumed there would still be limits. This was an empire with a long history. She thought there would be corners that couldn’t be overturned, no matter how hard they tried to destroy it.

She was wrong.

Abelus, Megara, and Nellusion had never truly set out to ruin the Imperial Family. They were only rampaging within what they believed to be acceptable boundaries. Normally, the Imperial Family’s other assets, the itemized taxes gathered at different times, and the loyal nobles rooted in each department for generations would have found ways to patch the damage.

The problem was that every time, circumstances emerged—at an astonishingly perfect timing—that cut off the path to fixing the mess.

“The large merchant groups that could lend money to the Imperial Family have collapsed, and after Abel’s incident, small and mid-sized merchant groups are reluctant to lend to the Imperial Family at all. The few useful troops have either been defeated in Maindulante or absorbed in advance. The nobles who should have helped stepped back because they hate Marquis Lykeandros, or stepped back because they loathe Abel… If someone told me to set the board like this, I would have.”

No money. No military power. No support from the nobles.

Camille, of course, knew who the culprit was. That hateful Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Maindulante.

But knowing the culprit didn’t mean she knew the methods. The enemy was cunning, and sometimes they used tactics that could only work if they knew every corner of the Imperial Family. Worse, according to Abelus, they even seemed to know about the secret military bases the Imperial Family had built across the empire—and avoided them.

Camille admitted it.

She had been looking down on the enemy until now.

How could she not? She had used cruel, thorough training to raise special secret agents for a long time, and she had tenaciously dug up what others couldn’t even imagine. On top of that, she was a direct descendant of the Imperial Family. There were few people in the empire who could fight her and win.

Yet her arms and legs had been bound so completely—and so quietly—that she was only now realizing it.

‘It’s worth praising. To use even information known only to the direct descendants of the Imperial Family.’

Camille twisted her lips. The agent reporting to her lowered his eyes, trembling.

But contrary to his expectations, Camille didn’t rage. She tossed the report aside as if it were nothing.

“Hmph. What can I do about what’s already happened? If there’s no firewood, you break the chair and burn it. What else is there.”

It was the voice of an Imperial Princess who had never lacked firewood, yet it carried sincerity.

Then she narrowed her eyes and gave an order.

“Gather the women harmed by Natasha Grunehals and push them to sue House Grunehals.”

Among the great noble families, the Dukedom of Elandria had crossed the point of no return, and the Dukedom of Ganielo had withdrawn into seclusion. If the Dukedom of Grunehals sank as well, all three Dukedoms would fall silent.

On top of that, the Marquisate of Lykeandros was already finished, and the Marquisate of Tipion was as good as dead. The Marquisate of Wells was sinking along with the Dukedom of Elandria, and the Marquisate of Kendall avoided outside activity whenever possible.

The only great noble house left in the Imperial Court was the Marquisate of Odroy. Its head, Marquis Odroy, had been an enthusiastic supporter of Camille from the beginning.

Nellusion had even joined hands with Camille in secret. No matter what Abelus tried to do with the lesser nobles he had planted, he would not be able to oppose Camille’s will.

If Camille had intended to strengthen the Imperial Family in the same way as before, she should never have used this method.

But she had no intention of making anything ‘the same as before’ after this.

So the analogy she had made earlier fit her perfectly.

“Yes, it’s winter now, with the Grand Duke of Maindulante coming. But once winter passes, spring will come.”

Could that couple continue rampaging as they did now if they lost all their helpers—and above all, each other?

Even if only one of them fell, Camille was confident she could complete the triangle of the altar. When that day came, everything would be hers alone.

Camille showed her teeth, joy rising from deep within.

“Summon all my moons embedded in each family. I don’t have enough hands to use. Unintentionally… what I want has come very, very close.”

The magic she had experimented with was now about to devour its final target.