The Queen's Hollow Doll
Grancis turned her head away, terrified by the woman's gaze. But the woman roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look.
"Why avoid my eyes?"
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Trembling in fear, Grancis wept and begged repeatedly.
"You've had your fun nibbling away at the direct territories bit by bit, haven't you."
The snake-eyed woman, Elua, released Grancis's chin and straightened up.
"But overeating beyond your station bursts your belly and kills you."
Grancis could say nothing. She didn't even know who this woman was—her only thought was to somehow beg for her life.
"I was wrong... Please forgive me... Please..."
Grancis pleaded desperately, tears streaming down her face.
Elua wiped the tears trailing down Grancis's cheek with her finger.
"I hold no personal grudge against you, Galia Grancis."
Hope flickered across Grancis's face at those words.
"Please... I beg you..."
"But politics is cold and ruthless, sweeping up and tearing apart the innocent at times."
Elua licked the tears from her finger.
"I couldn't escape it either. The difference is, I stood at the center and became the vortex myself, while you couldn't."
Elua leaned close to Grancis's ear and whispered.
"So don't hold a grudge against me."
With that, Elua lightly nipped Grancis's earlobe.
"Hic...!"
Elua turned coldly from Grancis, now a mess of tears and snot.
"Come in."
The guards waiting outside entered the room. They carried a bucket and a syringe the thickness of an arm filled with purple liquid.
"Begin."
"Yes."
The guards bowed and started the "procedure."
"No! Let me go! Let me go! Please, spare me!"
Grancis thrashed and screamed wildly. Blood trickled from her bound limbs from the fierce resistance, but the guards proceeded expressionlessly and efficiently.
Elua watched it all from behind with an icy face.
The "procedure" didn't take long. A guard showed Elua the contents of the bucket.
A purple, translucent, soft, elongated pudding-like mass floated inside.
Strapped to the apparatus, Grancis stared blankly at the ceiling, unmoving. A strange rune was etched on her lower abdomen, glowing faintly in an eerie hue as Elua approached.
"We've prepared her in the desired state, Your Majesty."
"No personality, only obeying my commands—is that correct?"
"Test it yourself."
The guards unbound Grancis. Moments ago, she had desperately wanted freedom; now she slumped like a dead frog.
"Rise, Grancis."
Grancis obeyed like a puppet, stepping down from the apparatus and standing demurely.
"Speak."
A guard interjected quietly from the side.
"She cannot speak, Your Majesty."
"I see."
Elua glanced at the object in the bucket.
"Putting it back restores her to normal, yes?"
"Yes. Though not exactly as before—some cognitive decline is possible. It's lost bit by bit in the process."
"Makes sense. Keep it safe. It might prove useful someday."
Elua eyed the motionless Grancis.
"Take this to my bedchamber. I'll use it as decoration. But first..."
Elua pinched her nose lightly.
"Wash her and dress her in fresh clothes. The tobacco stench is too strong to keep her close."
The guards bowed in acknowledgment.
As Elua emerged into the corridor, the Intelligence Minister and Brione approached.
"Let's go."
They walked the dark, damp hallway. The minister spoke with a troubled expression.
"Your Majesty... even so, she's the daughter of a trading company. Handling her without due process seems risky. And mobilizing the royal guard is excessive."
"The Grancis Company is a cancer on the kingdom. Its roots run too deep to uproot easily. So when you catch a slip-up, you strike hard enough to cross the line."
"But those arrested are just a fraction of the company. Though the leader's daughter is among them."
"Do you think this ends here?"
Elua's voice grew chilling.
"This is just the beginning, Minister. The Grancis Company will soon choose between nationalization or ruin."
"The company head isn't one to fold easily."
"Seeing his daughter like that will make even him reconsider."
"If so, that would be ideal... But why not torture her outright? Why that method?"
Elua stopped and turned to the minister.
"Why assume I'd resort to torture?"
The queen's gaze in the dim corridor was unnervingly sharp; the minister averted his eyes involuntarily.
"Leaving her intact but in that state delivers psychological shock to the company head. A tortured body can't be healed, but this offers hope of restoration anytime. Corner someone too tightly, and they bite."
"Ah, yes... My apologies..."
"And I don't particularly enjoy torture."
"Forgive me... I didn't mean..."
"Anyway."
Elua cut him off.
"What of the Audit Department?"
"Nearly all are tied to Grancis. We're checking the rest; evidence is mounting."
"That explains how a single company could infiltrate the direct territories."
Elua continued with a smile.
"Secure all evidence. Dismantle Grancis completely and purge the palace thoroughly."
"Understood."
Once topside, the minister departed, leaving Brione to follow Elua to her bedchamber.
"Your Majesty. One question."
"Speak."
"Why bring that Galia Grancis to your bedchamber?"
Elua smiled.
"In these times, many refuse to acknowledge me as queen. She obeys perfectly—ideal as a meat shield if an assassin slips in at night."
"Ah..."
As Elua opened the bedchamber door, she said,
"Go rest, Brione. Good work."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Pleasant dreams."
As Brione bowed, Elua suddenly asked,
"What did you discuss with Bertrand?"
"Ah... You sent the guard and me... Nothing else."
"I see."
It was trivial, yet Brione felt a chill down her spine. She bowed again and hurried down the stairs.
When first ordered to lead the guard through a dimensional gate to raze the company, Brione thought the queen had overstepped in emotional rage. But now, it seemed more than just her twisted affection for Bertrand.
A stark warning against touching direct territories. Pretext and hostage to oust the untouchable Grancis Company. Purging palace insiders with suspicious ties. The midnight raid yielded—and would yield—major political gains.
Though rumors said she initially planned to move an entire legion... The biggest reason was still Bertrand.
Even so... terrifying woman. Foreseeing and judging everything in that instant.
Without that foresight, she couldn't have seized the mages and intelligence before even becoming queen.
Brione was loyal to the queen yet feared her.
Elua lounged sideways on the bed, gazing at Grancis standing blankly in the corner. Grancis stared ahead with empty eyes.
"I don't think you deserved such punishment."
Whether she heard or not, Grancis didn't stir.
"A merchant must act boldly like you to make money."
Elua continued, her snake eyes softening slightly.
"You did your best from your position. But in this cruel game, it couldn't be helped."
Elua's eyes slowly scanned Grancis. The black hair, cold skin, expressionless face oddly resembled her own.
"You must pretend will when there's none, play dumb over suspicions instead of explaining, seize others' merits without hesitation."
Staring at the shell that mirrored her, Elua murmured lowly.
"Yes. You did nothing gravely wrong. But your position, your company's ties to me— that's what did this. In another era, or under a different king, you might have profited by balancing both sides."
Galia Grancis hadn't committed crimes warranting reduction to human furniture. Economic assaults on territories could be handled via audits and legal means.
But Elua needed a strong example and scapegoat to solidify early rule.
Unlike her father—who sought praise without wielding his weapons properly—she was different. Without the Demon King's army, he would've been dragged from the throne as incompetent long ago. He clung to symbolic respect for merely occupying it during the chaos.
Now, in peace, to shake off the nobility clinging to the palace and force submission, normal methods wouldn't suffice.
Even if it meant an end far from what one willed.
Elua stared at Grancis and asked,
"What kind of man is Bertrand Balder? Tempting even to a womanizer like you?"
Silence.
"No need to answer. The reply is predetermined."
Elua chuckled at her own words and lay back.
Approaching Bertrand suspiciously wasn't a crime by kingdom law—but it was grave to Elua.
Yet that wasn't her main motive for this. Her cold reason hadn't dulled to emotion's sway.
Not yet.
"Extinguish the lights, Grancis."
Grancis slowly moved, snuffing all the candelabras.
A long time passed. Elua, seemingly asleep, slipped from the bed. Her snake eyes glinted in the moonlight as she reached into the mattress crevice.
A dull glass shard came out in her hand. She brought it to her opposite wrist.
Just as it pricked the skin, Elua whispered lowly,
"Come close. Grip my wrist."
Grancis approached and seized Elua's wrist holding the shard.
"Stay like this until sunrise. And no matter what I say until then, don't move... at all."
Elua's lip twitched faintly.
Still fine. For now.
Grancis gazed down at her with emotionless eyes.
With the Grancis Company withdrawing—not quite a retreat—Rosens returned to its peaceful self.
Watching people clean the ruined campsite, I pondered Elua.
I'd just asked her to block the main force from bothering us, not send the royal guard and Brione.
What crazy gamble was that madwoman playing? If her goal was smashing Grancis entirely, the heavy blow made sense.
Mobilizing a legion against a territory was one thing; last night's raid another. Starting so aggressively from the outset?
The previous king avoided needless conflict with half-measures, earning incompetence labels. Elua was polar opposite.
With patricide rumors and her youth, building charisma to solidify power was key.
Wonder what happened to Galia Grancis...
Lost in such thoughts while sitting, someone hugged my neck from behind.