The Puppeteer's Strings
A few days after the Sacred Ritual concluded without a hitch, the official announcement of the marriage between King Pehart and Carmel was made public. The nobles who rarely frequented the royal palace, as well as the common folk, were likely burning with curiosity about who this woman named Carmel actually was. Even without the mystery, a king's remarriage was a monumental event. With Carmel's enigmatic aura added to the mix, an immense crowd would undoubtedly gather on the day of the wedding.
Naturally, Pehart was also deeply invested in the ceremony. Carmel's tastes leaned toward the grandest, most extravagant displays possible. In the original novel, she actually went so far as to carry out the absurd idea of paving the entire capital city of Lurie with silk roads.
Of course, it wasn't merely a waste of money born of extravagant tastes. No minister in their right mind would ever condone such madness. No matter how favored the future queen was by the king, hearing such an insane proposal would force any decent official to offer a stern remonstrance. Carmel was using this very demand to weed out the ministers who would stand in the way of her future tyranny.
In the novel, the first victim of this purge was the Minister of Finance, Zbaka—an honest, fiercely loyal man. I must ensure history doesn't repeat itself this time.
At the regular council meeting in the royal palace, the ministers seated along the long table looked utterly speechless as they stared at the document before them.
“So... you are saying this is a proposal personally drafted by Lady Carmel?”
“Indeed, Zbaka.” Pehart couldn't even bring himself to look directly at Zbaka's horrified face. At least he still has a shred of shame left.
“Y-Your Majesty. Forgive my presumption, but this is absolutely out of the question. Never in the history of our kingdom, past or present, has such an extravagant display been permitted! Forgive me, but this is... this is...!” Zbaka shook his head violently, looking as though he had just heard the most absurd nonsense. Well, to be fair, it was that absurd.
Carmel addressed Zbaka, her smile chillingly cold.
“I cannot simply let those words slide, Zbaka. This ceremony holds profound significance. We are celebrating the moment His Majesty finally overcomes his grief after losing his beloved late queen. To bring up mere coin at such a joyous occasion... I cannot help but question your loyalty.”
As she spoke, Carmel gently rested her hand on Pehart's thigh. It was a sight that was slightly enviable, yet utterly loathsome from a bystander's perspective.
“Mmm. Zbaka. Is that truly how you feel?”
“Y-Your Majesty, even you...? No, I... I only meant...”
That fool is steadily evolving—no, devolving—into a textbook tyrant. Zbaka desperately scanned the surrounding ministers, silently begging for someone, anyone, to stand with him. As if answering his silent plea, a single hand shot up. The moment Carmel recognized the face of the hand's owner, her expression instantly soured.
“Princess Sera...”
Naturally, the hand belonged to me. Keeping a pleasant smile fixed on my face, I looked back and forth between Pehart and Carmel before speaking.
“I, too, agree with Minister Zbaka, Father. This is far too excessive. A project of this scale would not only drain the treasury but force us to levy additional taxes on the populace. Is it truly right to force grief upon your poor subjects just to celebrate your own departure from it?”
It was an unassailable argument. Zbaka clasped his hands together as if a savior had descended from the heavens, gazing at me with eyes full of profound respect.
“U-Uh...” Pehart glanced nervously at Carmel. Carmel looked as though she deeply regretted not having something in front of her to tear apart with her teeth. However, she quickly composed herself and launched a counterattack, her eyes narrowing into a fierce, mocking smile.
“As expected, Princess Sera's love for the people is truly remarkable. I wish to emulate it myself. However, with such a beautiful heart, why can you not understand His Majesty's wishes? The King himself desires a grand ceremony of this scale.”
'Isn't that right?' Carmel's eyes seemed to ask as she nudged Pehart. Under her gaze, Pehart could only nod in agreement. Yes, Carmel understood her greatest weapon perfectly. That breathtaking beauty that had captivated even me at first sight, and that bewitching charm capable of ensnaring any man. Completely intoxicated by her, Pehart would agree to anything she said, lending her the full weight of his royal authority. If that was the case, I had to break the spell cast over him first.
“Wise King Pehart Rustier. Is this truly what Your Majesty desires?”
“Sera...”
“Right now, I speak to you not as your daughter, but as the First Princess, who holds the rightful authority to participate in state affairs. For a single moment of Your Majesty's pleasure, you would throw down silk—which a common farmer could barely hope to touch after a lifetime of labor—onto the dirt to be soiled. Do you truly wish for this?”
The King stared straight into my eyes. Beside him, Carmel kept sending frantic signals, but Pehart merely looked at me in silence. After agonizing over it for what felt like an eternity, he ultimately failed to reach a decision.
“...We shall discuss this agenda again tomorrow.”
Rain fell over the palace gardens outside my window. The fresh scent of wet soil and grass seemed to wash over my mind. The sight of the neatly manicured trees and shrubs swaying under the downpour held a different charm from the garden's usual static beauty. As I stood there, lost in thought, a maid approached with a message.
“Princess, His Majesty is requesting your presence.”
“My father? Is he still in his office?”
“No, he is in his private chambers.”
“I understand. Tell him I will be there shortly.”
The reason Pehart was calling for me was undoubtedly about this morning's dispute. The King's schedule for today had been packed. It should have been more than enough time for him to cool his head away from Carmel. Hoping that he had regained at least a bit of his senses, I threw on a light coat and left my room.
It was the same family drawing room where he had summoned me before. There, Pehart was waiting for me, looking strangely relieved.
“I have come at your summons, Father. What is it you wish to discuss?”
“Mmm. Sera... It is about the discussion we had this morning.”
Yes, exactly. No matter how beautiful Carmel is, there are limits. I'm glad he's finally come to his senses—
“As your father, it pains me to say this... but I would like you to excuse yourself from future council meetings.”
“...Excuse me?”
What is this idiot talking about? I felt as if someone had violently struck the back of my head with a morning star. This bastard's condition is even worse than it was in the novel. Barely managing to maintain my composure, I spoke.
“Father. The attendance of the direct royal lineage at council meetings is a matter dictated by state law. No matter your wishes, I cannot comply with that.”
“Yes, I am well aware. However, you are at an age where you should prepare to find a partner and enjoy your happiness as a woman. It is far too precious a time for you to waste on headache-inducing state affairs.”
“...Are you telling me to take Bride Lessons?”
It was an ancient custom of the Rustier Kingdom. For a daughter who had reached marriageable age, a father could command her to withdraw from public life and focus entirely on training to be a bride. This practice was observed not only in the royal family but also among common households. I couldn't even complain about it being the height of patriarchal absurdity. This wasn't the modern world; it was a fantasy kingdom stuck somewhere in the Middle Ages. It was only natural for things to be outdated. Calming my racing heart, I drew upon Princess Sera's knowledge.
“No, Father. Currently, I am the sole heir to the throne of the Rustier Kingdom. Under these circumstances, you cannot legally order me to undergo Bride Lessons.”
“You need not worry about that. An heir will be born soon enough.”
It took me a moment to process the meaning behind Pehart's words. In other words, he was saying that once he had a child with Carmel, he would strip the First Princess, Sera, of her succession rights.
“Ha, haha...” Perhaps I underestimated Carmel. Having suffered the unexpected counterattack of the Sacred Ritual and the humiliation of exposing her bare breasts, Carmel might have grown far more venomous than she ever was in the original novel. The level of brainwashing she had exerted on Pehart already far surpassed what was depicted in the early chapters.
“Is that truly your wish, Father?”
“Of course. It is my will as both your King and your father. I expect your obedience.”
I offered Pehart a sweet, angelic smile.
“I understand, Father. If that is your will, then I have no choice. I shall not attend tomorrow's council meeting. However, as I must prepare myself mentally, could you grant me a few days of grace?”
“Very well. I am truly grateful for your understanding.”
Grateful, my foot. I was sorry, but this time, even this idiot of a king would have to suffer a painful lesson. Of course, the one who deserved the harshest punishment was Carmel, the mastermind behind it all. I had no intention of letting her off with just exposing her breasts this time. Suppressing the fury pounding in my chest, my mind raced as I began to formulate a plan to completely overturn the board.