The Emperor's Venom
“By the way, Father. Do you plan to leave Victoria and Chloe's marriages undecided much longer? Whispers are already spreading among the empire's great nobles about the two princesses' prospects.”
The Emperor shrugged indifferently at the question.
“They're debutantes today—marriage feels a bit premature, don't you think? Chloe's still so young and pure. Our little girl isn't ready for the cutthroat world of high society or the burdens of running a noble house. I want to keep her close a while longer, pamper her.”
“If that's your will, Father. But what about Victoria? She's already twenty-four, isn't she?”
The Emperor's face, soft and paternal just moments before, twisted like he'd bitten into something foul the instant his eldest daughter's name came up.
“What noble house in the empire would take that lunatic off our hands? No sane family wants a bloodthirsty sword demon as a daughter-in-law. There's no young lord among our nobles who could handle that temper of hers.”
“She had a massive blowout with Arthur just the other day.”
“Exactly. Even if Arthur's too tough to die from it, what kind of maniac swings a sword at her own brother? That's not right in the head. She makes me sick, and she's my daughter.”
No one in the Imperial Palace was unaware of how deeply the Emperor despised and loathed his eldest daughter, Victoria, above all his children.
Crown Prince Maximilian, the eldest son, felt no sibling bond toward his half-sister either. He set down his teacup and nodded along indifferently.
“Still, she's the empire's First Imperial Princess. There must be at least one ambitious house willing to risk it all for her massive dowry and ties to the imperial family.”
“Ha, if such a fool exists, let them show themselves soon. I never tolerate presumptuous houses approaching the imperial family first with marriage proposals—but she's the exception.”
“It would be nice if one did.”
“Even if one did, it'd be a problem. She's bound to end up gutted on some battlefield soon anyway.”
The Emperor snorted derisively, his words brutally cold.
His voice was so icy and parched, it was hard to believe it belonged to a father.
“Why bother with a wedding for someone who's obviously coming home in a box? No need to turn some young lord into a widower. Better he courts another lady instead.”
The Emperor took a sip of tea, his gaze drifting to the map hanging in the corner of the study. He added one more remark.
“And above all, war's coming up soon.”
“You mean the expedition to the Loran Kingdom?”
“Yes. She seems itching to charge into battle—might as well let her. At least if she's out there leading, she'll cause fewer headaches at home.”
“...The last southern campaign was one thing, but didn't she cause a massive disaster before that?”
“Sure, the outcome was messy, but she did achieve the goal of executing the traitors. Chloe was a bit shaken, but...”
“Fair enough—wiping out a traitor's entire clan does eliminate the root of the problem. So, you'll hand the Loran Kingdom expedition starting next spring to Victoria as well?”
“She already holds the lofty title of Imperial Army Supreme Commander in name, if not in practice. Of course she'll lead the troops to the front.”
The Emperor smirked mockingly, tapping the table.
“That 'Supreme Commander' post is just a symbolic seat for any imperial blood we stick a puppet in. She actually thinks she's running the real army—hilarious. The generals under her handle all the work anyway.”
Leaning back deeply into his chair, the Emperor continued.
“Do you think that girl could actually conquer Loran?”
“Unlikely. Even Grandfather's reign and Great-Grandfather's couldn't breach their walls. I doubt Victoria's military prowess surpasses theirs.”
“Loran sits behind natural fortresses of mountains and highlands. Our empire's vaunted cavalry can't break through, so it's down to honest sieges—and piercing those insane walls isn't easy.”
“Just two walls to breach, but that's the hard part.”
“What can you do? Sieges are a grind of attrition. Throwing imperial troops alone at it is too costly, so I'll have to squeeze some private forces from the nobles this time. Maybe pick ones who won't clash too badly with her—slippery, obsequious types...”
As the Emperor murmured his casual political calculus, a thick, viscous hatred and killing intent suddenly coiled in his eyes like a serpent.
The air in the study grew suffocatingly heavy in an instant.
“That child born from devouring her own mother...”
Maximilian schooled his expression and held his silence as the Emperor spat the venomous curse.
Even as crown prince, he knew better than to respond in moments like this—any words would only stoke the Emperor's rage.
The one woman the Emperor had ever truly loved in his life... and their firstborn daughter, who had arrived in exchange for her life.
That love had twisted into pure hatred, and the Emperor dumped every ounce of his negativity onto her daughter.
“Talking about her dirties my mouth and ears. Need to wash it out.”
In a familiar ritual, the Emperor went to the basin in the corner of the study, rinsed his mouth and ears, then flung the water out the north-facing window.
The north wing housed Victoria's detached palace.
Maximilian watched the scene briefly, then—after a moment's thought to lighten the mood—brought up Ian Sterling's name again.
“...There's one concern. Lately, Victoria's been showing blatant interest in Ian Sterling. What do you plan to do about that? Let her have her way?”
“Toss Ian to that bitch? As a husband, you mean?”
The Emperor burst into laughter as if he'd never been angry, shaking his head.
“That'd be a waste of Ian Sterling. Too talented to squander on Victoria.”
Narrowing his eyes, the Emperor flashed a sly grin at Maximilian.
“And... it's not just Victoria who's taken with Ian Sterling, is it? Our darling Chloe's been trailing after him like a lovesick puppy lately.”
Maximilian startled, his eyes widening.
“You knew, Father?”
“Hah, come on. How could a parent not know their own child's heart? My precious little girl, who I wouldn't trade for the world, has been blushing and primping longer than usual. You think her father wouldn't notice?”
The monstrous figure who'd been cursing his eldest moments ago vanished. Now the Emperor was a doting, over-the-top dad, chuckling heartily.
Maximilian suppressed a shiver at the bizarre emotional whiplash but kept his composure.
“Frankly, even if the boy's capable, clever, and charming... it feels like too much of a loss to give our beloved Chloe to some hostage from a defeated kingdom. She's an imperial princess of noble blood.”
“Haha, no one in the palace can match my obsessive love for my youngest.”
“True, no matter how much you like him... there's the matter of status. Anyway, we can sort out any romantic entanglements later, depending on the situation. No need to decide now.”
The Emperor glanced at the clock, then slowly rose from the sofa.
“Enough idle chatter. The sun's setting, and the beasts will soon slink into the main hall. Go prepare to welcome the second day of the social ball.”
“Yes, Father. I'll ensure the rest of the festival proceeds flawlessly, without a single hitch.”
Maximilian stood, bowing elegantly and precisely.
Their clandestine council thus concluded, and Maximilian quietly opened the heavy oak door of the study and stepped out.