This Fucking Stress
The office in the Imperial Palace was quiet. Precisely, it was too quiet.
Soft sunlight slanted down onto the desk overflowing with documents. The open files were densely packed with reports on troop movements along the border regions, tax collection status from the outer noble territories, lists of vacant positions left after the purge, and inspection reports submitted by the Imperial Audit Office.
"Fuck..."
With that, the number of times I'd muttered "fuck" had reached an all-time high.
Regret came crashing in like a tidal wave.
The purge at the state council meeting a few days ago had triggered a massive manpower shortage.
Ah, I should've killed only half of them.
Having wiped out even the key bureaucrats in vital posts, the empire now couldn't function smoothly.
I silently chanted patience and perseverance to myself, placing my faith in the blessings of LaxX's mask.
I slowly turned the page of a document with the tip of my brush.
This purge had been a necessary step. And it was only the beginning.
Just because blood had been spilled in the Sun Justice Hall didn't mean the empire would be purified overnight.
If anything, the real work started now.
Who would fill the vacancies left by those who'd been cut down? Where should the provincial inspections begin? How to deal with the remnants of the noble faction? How far to trace the financial leaks?
The empire was far too vast, and vastness meant there were plenty of rotten parts.
The empire's territory spanned more land than China and Russia combined in the modern world.
That made it impossible for the emperor to manage and oversee everything personally—it came with too many limitations.
As I racked my brain over these trivial tasks, there came a knock.
Knock, knock.
I straightened my slumped back and said, "Enter."
The door opened, and the Foreign Minister stepped inside.
Rowen Haizer. The man who oversaw the empire's diplomacy always maintained a composed demeanor befitting his station, but right now, his expression was subtly tense.
He bowed lightly upon entering. "Your Imperial Highness."
Without lifting my eyes from the documents, I asked, "What is it?"
"A request for an audience has come from the Gaia Holy Kingdom."
My brush stopped.
I slowly raised my head.
What? The Gaia Holy Kingdom? At this timing?
The air in the office grew ever so slightly heavier.
The Holy Kingdom and the empire were currently in a ceasefire. But that was merely sheathing the blade for the moment—the hostility hadn't been resolved.
The Holy Kingdom viewed the empire's territorial expansionism as arrogance defying the will of the gods, while the empire saw the Holy Kingdom as an obnoxious, hypocritical check on its power.
For such prideful zealots to request an audience first was odd.
Or maybe it wasn't.
Was it because of the purge I'd unleashed?
If word of it had spread beyond the palace across the entire continent, it was only natural for the Holy Kingdom to react.
Especially from their perspective, preaching human life, order, and divine mercy—they'd undoubtedly view this unfavorably.
Not a gesture of reconciliation.
No way.
The reasons for the Holy Kingdom reaching out first boiled down to two possibilities.
One: to check what was happening inside the empire.
Two: to gauge the intentions of the crown prince, who had begun to change.
I sorted my thoughts in an instant.
If anything, this was perfect timing.
I'd have to make contact with the Gaia Holy Kingdom eventually anyway.
To awaken Emperor Leoniel, I'd need the pinnacle of holy power—the pope or the saintess.
If they were extending a hand first, there was no reason to refuse.
I looked at the minister and said, "Connect the audience."
The Foreign Minister's eyes flickered subtly.
It was only natural. The old Kainar would have scoffed and kicked aside any request from the Holy Kingdom.
"I'll prepare it immediately, Your Highness."
As he turned to leave, I added, "Is the other side the pope?"
"Yes. The request came in the name of Urban 14th."
The pope himself. How urgent must this be?
I could already feel the piss trickling down my legs.
This stress is fucking brutal.
I twisted the corner of my mouth in distaste.
I'd have to see just how obnoxiously they'd play this.
At the same time, in another wing of the Imperial Palace, the Golden Rose Palace where Concubine Violetta Arshien de Belloa resided.
The air here appeared lavish on the surface, but right now it was taut with tension.
Lucian Theodor von Solaríos entered the inner reception room with quicker steps than usual.
His face was already masked once more.
He had no intention of carrying the blatant agitation he'd shown Astellia in the plaza.
But it wasn't fully concealed either.
Two people were already waiting for him inside.
Concubine Violetta Arshien de Belloa.
And her blood brother, the current head of House Belloa and Marquis Ortes de Belloa.
Violetta was dazzling as always. A deep crimson dress that shimmered, golden accessories, not a hair out of place, and above all, eyes that seemed to pierce right through a person.
Ortes was sharp in a slightly different way from his sister. A cleanly shaven face without a single stray whisker, thinly pressed lips, and the calculated silence unique to those in power.
As Lucian closed the door behind him while regarding Violetta and Ortes, she spoke first.
"Lucian."
Her voice was soft, but laced with a cold certainty that she'd anticipated every detail.
Lucian didn't sit. He said lowly, "I need an explanation."
Ortes's eyebrow twitched faintly. "Explanation for what?"
Lucian ground his teeth. "For the current situation."
He continued in an even lower, more suppressed tone. "The core of the noble faction was swept away overnight. That mad dog crown prince suddenly drew his sword. With no preparation whatsoever, as if he'd known everything from the start."
The reception room fell silent.
Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, Lucian took a step forward. "Does the crown prince truly know nothing?"
At those words, Violetta's gaze sharpened coldly. "Lower your voice."
"Mother—!"
"The Golden Rose Palace isn't without ears in the walls."
Lucian clenched his jaw. But he barely suppressed his rage.
Ortes slowly opened his mouth. "If the crown prince knew your secret, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths."
"......"
"Kainar is brutal and arbitrary, but he's also excessively direct. If he'd truly had proof, he wouldn't have stopped at purging the nobles. He'd have come straight for your neck long ago."
There was logic to that. Which made it all the stranger.
Why strike the noble faction now? Why so swiftly and precisely? Why at this exact moment?
Violetta set down her teacup and said, "This purge likely has nothing to do with your secret."
"Then why—!"
"The crown prince must have undergone some change, or someone whispered filth into his ear."
Ortes took over. "The reason isn't the issue."
His eyes grew icy. "The problem is that Kainar has finally started using his head."
A chill seeped into Lucian's fingertips.
That was the one thing he least wanted to hear.
The reason Lucian had believed he could face Kainar until now was clear.
His brother was too strong, but far too crude and simple.
So if he manipulated the board from behind, he could eventually topple him.
But if—
Truly if.
What if Kainar began pairing that brute strength with real intellect?
"...Impossible."
Lucian muttered as if convincing himself. "That damn bastard could never become that kind of person."
Violetta quietly regarded her son's face.
She knew all too well that he was afraid right now.
But she had no intention of soothing him.
The child of the noble faction had to stand firm amid fear.
"Lucian."
The concubine's voice lowered. "There's no need to be afraid."
Lucian looked up.
Violetta's russet eyes gleamed coldly. "Killing a few people doesn't tilt the scales for the throne entirely. The emperor still slumbers, and not all noble society backs the crown prince. You have your uncle and House Belloa, and the vacant seats can be filled with new faces."
Ortes nodded. "As long as there's no major movement from the Necrovan Necromancy Kingdom... there's nothing to worry about."
"......"
"That said, we can't afford complacency. If anything, we must move more quietly now."
Lucian stood in silence for a long while.
He was anxious, furious, and above all, restless.
But he knew showing those emotions raw would spell his end.
Finally, he asked lowly, "Then what should I do?"
Violetta smiled very slowly. "Act as you always have."
"The kind, gentle second prince whom everyone can't help but love."
It meant donning the mask once more.
Ortes added, "If the crown prince builds authority on blood, you gather power through hearts. This isn't the time for direct confrontation."
Only then did Lucian exhale very slowly.
Right. It wasn't over yet.
Even if the crown prince had cut down the noble faction, he hadn't reached Lucian's secret.
Not yet.
For now, he needed to stay still, hide, and tighten the mask.
But deep in his chest, an ominous premonition lingered, refusing to fade.
Kainar.
That name suddenly carried a weight utterly different from yesterday.