The Orphanage's Princesses (8)
To dominate humans who won't listen, violence is necessary. That was the emperor's creed.
He had imprisoned, tortured, and purged those who opposed him. Opposition? Who would dare. Especially against someone who commanded the Eight Divine Arms, the eight masters at his beck and call.
Moreover, the emperor managed risks meticulously whenever he purged, ensuring no backlash. "I've only personally eliminated those everyone despises—criminals and traitors," the emperor had said.
"Heart attacks. Suicides. Traffic accidents. Drug overdoses. Crimes of passion. If only they'd taken better care of their health, or kept their aides, nurses, or servants in check."
For those who posed potential risks, he avoided getting his own hands dirty, deploying shadows to fabricate incidents instead.
"A ruler must handle people well," the emperor had declared. "Rule your subordinates with fear, grounded in overwhelming power."
I could somewhat agree, but I didn't believe domination through violence was 100% right.
Hit them once to control them, and next time it'll take three hits.
What a hassle. Wielding the whip every time they strayed, then wiping off the splattered blood—it was all tedious.
So I pondered: If I wanted to pull the shadows under the emperor's terror and oppression to my side, how could I dominate them in turn?
The answer lay in Gibraltar blood.
"If you've all finished drinking, it's time for your gifts."
Wield the whip, yes—but don't stop there.
"I know something about your backgrounds. And that you came here for a honey trap."
"......."
The three shadows understood immediately; the children did not.
"I'll give you a chance to seduce the Gibraltar family."
"!!"
"Imperial orphans who enchant the Gibraltar household. Succeed, and the empire will no longer see you as mere orphans."
With those added words, all nine now clearly understood.
"There are four Gibraltars you can tempt: the margrave, the marchioness, Noir, and Letar. You've all seen the margrave on your way here."
The girls nodded. A couple blushed, as if recalling his face.
"Go ahead, enchant them however you like. Aim for my father's concubine, the head maid position in Gibraltar, Noir's childhood friend and future wife, or Letar's playmate and maid."
Seduction wasn't just about rational appeal.
"If you can't enchant the Gibraltar bloodline, settling here permanently isn't a bad option either. There are knights, butlers—or you could become maids yourselves. Honestly, that's my top recommendation."
Turn imperials into maids.
"Later, when the empire opens businesses in Gibraltar—department stores, markets, whatever—we'll need to dispatch managers."
People with experience living in the empire would be essential. Imperial markets weren't just roadside stalls hawking goods.
"Sometimes commoner families bring home stray puppies that were abandoned."
A few flinched at "abandoned puppies."
"Parents scream to throw them out, but after a few months, they end up raising them."
Humans weren't puppies, but these girls weren't too young to grasp the metaphor.
The emperor's blood doesn't go anywhere.
All nine had silver or white hair, proof enough.
Boys take after the navy blue, girls the white hair.
Eye color might follow the mother, but the hair was unmistakably inherited from the emperor.
"You start as orphans, but the ending is up to you."
They'd inherited some intelligence too, no doubt.
"I'll provide you many opportunities."
To drive humans mad with obsession, something better than fear existed.
"A chance to become better than you are now."
Hope.
"Squander it or ruin it yourselves, and I won't need to spell out the consequences."
Or they'd just be culled, growing up as Imperial Orphan A.
"But not me."
Anyone else in Gibraltar was fair game—but not me.
"I made a deal with Chairwoman Erwin, who sent you here. Publicly, I have to be 'Gibraltar's eldest son, enchanted by Astasia.'"
"Ah...."
That's how the empire must perceive it.
"I'll be meeting Princess Astasia often. You must stay out of my sight entirely—and that's exactly how you'll act."
For now, they weren't even worth remembering names for.
The emperor's bastards? The last number here was 81. And she was only seven.
Unlike women, men can impregnate several a day.
I didn't know how high the numbers went after, but triple digits was certain.
"Remember this. If anyone from the empire comes—or if you report back—and you want to settle here, return later, and start a glamorous second life in a high position..."
Tap, tap.
"Grey Gibraltar is so enchanted by Astasia he's lost his mind."
I lightly tapped the table to draw their attention.
"He shows great interest in the empire, admires its ways, and even talks about visiting someday."
Grey Gibraltar: the traitor sprout, mad for the empire. Mad for love.
"Follow my words, and Gibraltar will shelter and raise you."
I tapped the empty wooden cup.
"Tomorrow morning, nursery maids will come guide you. Your first night in Gibraltar—sweet dreams."
Clink.
I tapped the cup on the table and rose.
"Dismissed."
Orphans—no, perhaps they deserved a new name now.
"At least become someone's princesses. I sincerely hope so."
The prospective princesses rose hesitantly.
"Oh, I almost forgot to mention."
The emperor had said.
"Number 9. You're the eldest, right?"
"Ah, yes! That's right!"
"Assign the rooms."
"Pardon...?"
The easiest way to dominate a group: create a hierarchy within.
"From now on, you're the representative for any issues. Everyone gets a private room, so decide among yourselves."
"Ah, yes! I'll, I'll do it!"
"If His Highness has already claimed a room, skip that one."
All prospective princesses were equal.
But some princesses were more equal than others.
"You... yes, you'll do."
The future. When the empire ruled colonies, it granted special titles to nobles from old kingdoms.
"I'll give you an 'armband.'"
"Armband...?"
"No physical item yet, but you're their leader."
"Leader...."
"If you don't want it—there, Enancy or whatever?"
"...It's Anansi."
She'd catch on, of course. I'd ignored her name, but she'd memorized it—even if I got it wrong, it was close.
"No, no! I'll do it! Trust me...!"
Cheap power was still power.
"Good."
I chanted a magic spell to empower Number 9, patting her shoulder.
"Handle it. Do well?"
* * *
Gibraltar Marquis Manor.
"You're back?"
"I'm not sleeping—what's the point of staying up."
"I can't sleep...."
Marchioness Charlotte, heavy with child, sat in a rocking chair welcoming the margrave.
"And Grey?"
"Tending the children at the orphanage. As you suggested, they'll stay in temporary quarters first."
"I see. ...How were the children?"
"All had pale hair."
The margrave pulled a chair beside his wife, sat, and took her hand.
"Rumors swirl that the imperial crown prince sired so many children—seems true."
"Those kids, all of them...?"
"Probably. Not officially acknowledged, but likely bastards all."
"The stories in the imperial papers weren't exaggerations."
Since deciding on treason and Grey starting imperial language studies, the couple had read Grey's translations of key imperial news clippings into the kingdom tongue.
Not everything, just what Grey deemed important—including crown prince tales.
"So tragic... both sides."
"Keep it secret. It must never leak outside."
"Yes. Lips sealed, no matter who asks."
The margrave and marchioness shared most margrave affairs. A secret or two remained, but...
"More importantly, dear. Talk to Grey alone later."
"Y-yes? With, with Grey?"
"...No need to fear him so."
"Ah, haha...."
Charlotte awkwardly laughed, stroking her full belly.
"Grey and I, alone...."
Anyone could see her unease toward Grey. The old margrave would have sided with his wife unconditionally—but
"Grey seems smitten at first sight with some girl."
"...R-really?"
Even Charlotte couldn't hold back.
"Who? The princess, maybe?"
"...Still half-doubting that."
The past three years.
Does Grey Gibraltar like Naria Geo Nostrum?
The couple had debated it endlessly. Yet they'd never asked their son directly. Even when he recently said he just wanted to "put her on the throne," they struggled to take it at face value.
No matter how mature Grey seemed.
No matter his genius.
Human emotions—especially "love"—could trip up anyone.
But.
"Who is she?!"
"The emperor's granddaughter, Astasia."
Grey, in love?
"Margrave. How far does this treason go?"
"Who knows."
"After killing Saint Geo, will Nostrum even survive?"
"That depends entirely on Grey now."
The margrave revealed his thoughts plainly.
"Grey said it: making Princess Naria queen is his goal. What happens after isn't his concern."
"Yes. Toppling Saint Geo from the throne is his main aim."
"Same for me. Punishing the man who toyed with you—that's my ultimate task."
"......That."
"Shh."
Charlotte opened her mouth, but the margrave pressed a finger to her lips.
"The baby might hear."
He leaned in, bowing his head to kiss her.
Long and deep.
Clouds drifted past the window below the moon. A gentle breeze swayed branches; translucent spider silk trailed long.
"...You're so sly."
"Can't soil your lips or let the child hear ugly talk."
The margrave sat calmly again.
"Anyway, I've never pondered Nostrum much. We're allied with Morgania; now we have imperial ties too."
"Three paths, then."
One: Change the king.
Two: Change the nation.
Three: Become the king.
"If the granddaughter becomes princess and Grey a royal consort, what should we do?"
"That too hinges on Grey's will."
Whether Naria queens, Nostrum falls and the empire unifies the continent, or Gibraltar devours Nostrum to birth a new kingdom.
"Everything rests on Grey's intent. We just follow his lead."
"What Grey desires...."
"Enchanted by an imperial woman, losing his senses—turns out she's the emperor's granddaughter."
The margrave recited softly, like reading an academy textbook.
"Grey will be our link to the empire. We... watch from one step back."
"Margrave."
"Of course, only outwardly."
He gripped his wife's hand firmly again.
"Grey won't choose wrong. He's not one to waver on sentiment."
Gibraltar.
The iron gate never once breached.
* * *
The talk ended.
Returning to my room for a break, the moment I entered—
"Ah."
I saw it.
"Well now."
Snore, snore.
On my bed.
"I didn't tell you this was my room."
Astasia lay curled sideways, snoring softly.
"......."
Quietly, without waking her.
I approached the bed, gazing down at sleeping Astasia.
A bit baby fat from her youth, but she'd surely grow into the figure from my memories.
"......."
And if the future unfolded the same, the end would be ruin.
Astasia's death.
Even if she stayed with me, the moment she came of age.
The emperor would try to kill her.
Because I'd reject his proposal.
"......Hah."
So.
I had to steel my heart.
To avoid repeating past mistakes.
"Sleep well, Princess."
No more tears from this girl, kneeling before the emperor to trade her life for mine.
This time.
Until I kill the emperor.
Never.
I won't waver to petty emotions.
Never again.
"...Mm."
"......."
"Hehe, hi-hi...."
"......."
She still kicked off the blanket in her sleep. Or rather, she'd always done that since childhood.
"......."
Just.
Can't let her catch a cold on her first day in Gibraltar.
I wouldn't repeat the same mistake.
Quietly, I pulled the blanket up to her neck.