The Tyrant Queens' Unified Summit - 1
So many things come to mind when a wedding is mentioned, and so much has to be prepared.
From reserving the venue to gathering the trousseau, there’s this and that to handle.
But,
“Is there nothing you need my help with?”
“Nope. Just leave it all to me and relax. I’m taking care of everything as instructed.”
In the end, he didn’t have to do a single thing when it came to his own wedding.
Because his bride had already taken care of everything.
Beatrix pulled Albert into her arms and let out a deep sigh.
Even today, the bed was stained from their passionate encounter, and the room was thick with the heat of desire.
“At first I thought we should throw a truly grand wedding to make everyone look at you with admiration. But this small, intimate ceremony seems rather good too. No unnecessary fuss at all.”
Small, intimate. Albert could only offer an awkward, helpless smile in response.
Tables set with lavish decorations and ornaments made it clear that it was far from small by his standards.
From Beatrix’s perspective, it was indeed small, but in Albert’s eyes it was spectacularly lavish.
“Um… Your Majesty.”
“Don’t call me that. Now you must call me by name.”
Beatrix released Albert from her embrace and sat back a short distance away, deliberately giving him a sulky look.
Albert’s expression turned apologetic as he quickly corrected himself.
“Ah… I’m sorry. I’m still a little uncomfortable with it.”
“I understand. But please, call me by name again. One more time.”
Beatrix looked at him with pleading eyes.
Now they were truly husband and wife.
She had no desire to remain separated by a title like “Your Majesty” between them—except when they were playing roles in bed.
“I’m sorry, Beatrix.”
When Albert struggled to use her name, Beatrix’s eyes softened.
She was clearly satisfied with the answer she had received.
“You must call me that from now on too.”
“Yes.”
“Good. But why?”
Beatrix asked why he had waited until now to use her name, and Albert’s lips parted.
His voice carried a hint of nervousness.
“Once we’re married, I’ll have to give birth to a child immediately, right? Since you’re a queen, you’ll probably need to address the issue of succession as well.”
Becoming the father of a child.
Even now, he hadn’t fully prepared his heart for that.
However,
“I’ll have to. It’s not that urgent though. I can give birth once I’m past one hundred.”
“…What?”
What was he saying?
Albert blinked in disbelief.
By that age, he would have long since withered away and died.
How could he possibly father a child? His expression clearly conveyed the question.
“Ah…”
Beatrix let out a short groan, her face suddenly turning apologetic as she gently took Albert’s hand.
They were still lying face to face on the bed.
“Ah… I never told you. Royalty like me have exceptionally long lifespans. When you marry a king, you’ll have the same fate too.”
For now, let’s hear her out.
Beatrix cut him off before he could even ask the question.
Explaining everything from the very beginning would be far more efficient.
It would also keep the flow smooth and easy.
“I don’t know why, but royalty across generations are blessed with long lifespans. Even the founding ancestors of each kingdom, and those who inherited that bloodline.”
“How long?”
“Roughly three hundred years.”
Could a human truly live that long?
That would mean he belonged to an entirely different species.
Albert’s eyes widened in shock.
The disbelief was written all over his face.
“I might not know. I might not even believe it. But if I grab someone nearby and ask, I can find out in an instant.”
Why would such a ridiculous game hide such a setting?
Too absurd, Albert felt utterly hollowed out.
Royalty only had direct bloodline family—no collateral lines.
They didn’t produce large numbers of children to ensure a stable succession; they only had a few.
If a child died before reaching adulthood, they would simply produce another, but that was an exception.
This wasn’t limited to the East. All rulers governing other directions were the same.
“Is that even possible?”
Albert asked, looking bewildered.
If it were only the East, he could have dismissed it. But if the others were the same, it raised his suspicions.
“Yes. Because our ancestors share the same blood. Back when the entire continent was one, those who inherited the blood of the emperor who ruled there.”
“It was that long ago?”
“So distant now that even close-kin relations don’t matter.”
Yet, hearing that their distant roots were the same left no room for doubt.
Beatrix was not the kind of woman who would lie about such matters.
Moreover, the reason for having so few children was clear.
The children they would bear were incredibly strong.
They were even immune to poison, making assassination impossible.
That was why nothing ever tainted the queen’s table.
‘No wonder she never had me tested for poison…’
That made perfect sense.
“In any case, the spouse who marries a king must undergo a special ritual. It’s to avoid any complications from a shorter lifespan—otherwise the king would die first and cause endless trouble.”
Beatrix swiftly wrapped up the conversation, which was beginning to drift off topic.
The ritual.
Instantly, a cutscene from when the protagonist was attacked flashed through Albert’s mind.
Hips being grabbed, or perhaps…
“Will it hurt a lot?”
“Huh? No, just a little prickly sensation. I’ll have to draw a bit of blood and mix it.”
“Ah… That’s good.”
He didn’t know why he had asked, but as long as Albert felt relieved, that was all that mattered.
Beatrix nodded silently, then slowly rose from the bed.
*
After a few days.
Albert followed Beatrix, swallowing dry saliva.
‘She said there was nothing to it, and she was right.’
Once the ritual was complete, only a strange sense of emptiness remained.
Sitting before a massive, intricate magic circle laid out in the underground chamber of the palace, he pricked his fingertip with a blade’s edge.
Just as they had described from the bed earlier, it only felt mildly warm.
Beatrix and Albert each took a few drops of blood in a bowl, then poured it onto the magic circle.
That much had seemed routine…
But the next part.
Turning the blood fountain that had sprouted from the center of the magic circle proved the most difficult moment.
Fortunately, there was no odd smell or sticky feeling unique to blood.
“You worked hard.”
“I didn’t do anything. I just lay there quietly.”
Beatrix smiled while letting the servant handle her body.
Albert also had his body wiped down by a servant waiting outside the chamber.
Possessing a lifespan and youth far longer than ordinary people, and with a correspondingly stronger body.
Beatrix had said as much, but in reality, Albert felt almost no difference.
As he looked at the body that had remained largely unchanged since the beginning, he tilted his head in confusion.
There were no obvious changes, no striking sensations whatsoever.
He would figure it out soon enough.
Time was a healer.
The conclusion from his long deliberation felt somewhat anticlimactic.
“His Highness, I have brought the dress and suit samples.”
When the couple reached the office, a pair of tailor—one man and one woman—bowed in greeting.
The man and woman who usually worked in the palace storehouse in the capital.
Beatrix’s eyes curved slightly at the mention of “dress.”
“You know why I called you?”
“Yes. We would like to take your measurements, so may we have permission to touch your body?”
“Go ahead.”
“Yes.”
The woman in the dress went behind Beatrix.
The man in the suit stood behind Albert, extending his hands.
“Your Highness, please allow me to begin.”
“Please go ahead, Mr. Tailor.”
“Yes. Thank you for your patience.”
The man placed a measuring tape around Albert’s waist and his eyes sparkled.
Sweat trickled down his back, but he made no effort to hide it.
He carefully noted the measurements—waist, arms, shoulder width, and more—into his mind and on paper.
Even though they usually remembered measurements perfectly, they took every precaution to avoid errors.
If the recorded figures were wrong and displeasing to her…
‘I’ll die. For sure.’
They did their best to avoid any mistakes so they could eat and live well.
Albert watched the tailors writhing in fear and was genuinely surprised.
Professionals were professionals.
Beatrix felt that the care they showed was rather admirable.
They weren’t being respectful out of her status, but because they loved the work itself.
Of course, their fear of death was obvious, but that was only part of it.
“Mmm…”
While Albert stood motionless with his eyes closed, a hot breath occasionally escaped from Beatrix’s lips.
Her body had become sensitive from constantly mixing flesh with him every day.
Especially when the tailor woman’s hands brushed her chest or hips.
‘Ah… Am I really about to die?’
The tailor woman, completely unaware of the situation, measured with tense focus.
Sweat poured down her in sheets, soaking her shirt through.
She mistook Beatrix’s moans of pleasure for those of discomfort.
As the woman’s lower abdomen began to tingle, the pair of tailors finished their measurements simultaneously.
“It’s complete. Now I’ll show you the samples. Please choose the style you like.”
Both tailors placed their notes in their pockets and let out a sigh of relief.
This measurement process had been no different from a battlefield.
And having survived it, they could finally exhale.
The male tailor handed over a small book, and Beatrix reached out.
When she opened it, several dress and suit samples were displayed.
“How do you feel? Are there any you like?”
Seeing the book in her hand, Albert’s gaze naturally drifted toward it.
“It might look a bit plain… but I think they’re all wonderful.”
“Really? Then choose whatever you like. And if possible, pick one for me too.”
“Me?”
Albert’s eyes widened at the request to choose her dress as well.
“Because you picked it for me. Hurry up.”
He couldn’t ignore his own desire.
Albert stared intently at the drawings in the book.
Some showed bare shoulders with sleeves, others covered the upper body with no sleeves.
There were various decorative styles as well.
“I like this one… What do you think?”
After much consideration, Albert’s finger pointed at one of the illustrations.
‘He likes this kind of thing.’
Beatrix nodded, observing Albert’s taste.
It was one that covered the neck but left the shoulders and armpits fully exposed.
She mistakenly assumed it fit his somewhat unusual preferences.
While choosing the dress with great care, she had even casually picked out her own attire.
The two tailors thought their husband was a truly bizarre man in his tyranny.
“Did you see? We’ll go with this.”
“Yes. As soon as we return, we’ll begin making it.”
“I won’t insist on speed. Just don’t take too long, all right?”
This was a perfectly reasonable demand.
The tailors lowered their heads with stiff expressions.
Though they were clearly being treated like tyrants, there was an oddly reasonable side to them.
This was also why they always felt uneasy.
“We’ll bring the dress the moment it’s ready.”
“Thank you. Go ahead.”
“Yes.”
Once the tailors left and the door closed, Beatrix’s eyes glowed like those of a starving beast.
She knew she was acting rashly, but she couldn’t stop.
Slapping sounds and the sound of nails scratching skin echoed through the room.
Even if servants and maids in the corridor could hear the commotion, she was generous enough to overlook it.
As long as they cleaned up afterward, it was fine.
A few days later, around that time.
Beatrix let out a long sigh and picked up her pen.
The dresses and suits the tailors had brought into the office had left her feeling restless.
It wasn’t that she disliked their work, but because she had to send out invitations.
To lords who held equal status and could not be treated so lightly.
“…Haa.”
Beatrix sat alone in the office, pen moving across the paper.
Albert had left to explore the palace.
She had allowed him free movement inside the palace so he wouldn’t grow too bored.
Even though she still wanted to keep him by her side, it had made it easier for her to write calm sentences in the letter.
“Tsk.”
Beatrix clicked her tongue and set the pen down.
She had been thinking that she would have to meet humans once a year, at most, and her head was beginning to ache.