Chapter 62: Whispers in the Imperial Halls

Whatever it is, she’s one sharp cookie…

Damn capitalist world! Steal my heart…!

Karlahee patted Lara Schmord’s shoulder in silence.

Your Highness, where have you been at this late hour?

It was when Karlahee, having removed his glasses, stealthily entered a deep corridor of the Imperial City. As the lights flickered on, officials appeared with bowed heads as if waiting.

Sneaking in at such a daring hour… Could it be you’ve been meeting a lady from Duke Liniat’s family?

Their eyes held subtle anticipation rather than worry over his condition. When Karlahee dismissed them with bored eyes, one official blurted out a brazen question.

By the middle of the story, you must have at least shared a kiss, right?

How rude. Do you really expect to be excused simply because you’re old?

Karlahee replied firmly. As his eyes turned icy, the officials flinched and backed away.

Don’t expect any pension once you retire.

A cruel remark befitting a tyrant.

Your Highness! Th-that… that cannot be! Please, reconsider! Do you think I’ve committed a mortal sin? I’ve already saved up enough for my retirement.

…Damn old fools.

Pardon my insolence, but for Your Highness’s sake I must speak again: How long do you intend to delay your engagement with Lady Liniat? No matter her background, you must secure a consort soon.

Think of the loyal officials who lose sleep over the empire’s future—it’s high time you secured an heir.

I, too, share that sentiment.

…I’m utterly exhausted; everyone, please disperse.

But like hyenas, the persistent officials trailed behind Karlahee, nagging about his heir, heir! In these times, when raising children is already a struggle, their call to simply produce one was infuriating.

When they tried to follow him into the bedroom, Karlahee grabbed a decorative doll nearby and hurled it out the door.

Effective immediately, I hereby designate this as my heir. Now, adjourn from the palace.

An official barely caught the doll and clutched it close. As the Emperor hurriedly retreated into his chamber, the officials collectively sighed.

Isn’t this supposed to be a girl…?

* * *

In a chapel bathed in moonlight, Lady Elina V knelt in devout prayer.

Silver hair cascaded along her shoulders, shimmering softly. Strangely, her head was draped in a white lace tablecloth—the headscarf she forgot to wash at home and had hastily borrowed from the tea room. Faith and purity matter more than appearances.

…Namhulia Mitablio… Gwahunsébosalia…

Your Ladyship, may I come in for a moment?

A crisp knock sounded, and Lady Elina V raised her head slightly. With a quiet nod of permission, the door opened and a stealthy knight entered.

I’ve gathered information on the dark forces lurking around the Slums, as you commanded.

Thank you for your hard work, despite the late hour.

Not at all.

The knight, Milo, lowered his stance in response.

Lady Elina V began reading the report he handed her. Minutes later, a heavy sigh echoed in the quiet chapel.

While their target now is the Papal Court… I feel otherwise. I have a strange, ominous premonition that this is just the beginning.

Lady Elina V offered a delicate smile that seemed to shatter in the moonlight, as if a goddess had descended to earth.

The dark forces we pursue may soon seize the Empire.

An ethereal mood, not of mortal making, lingered.

I, as the Lady, must stop it. It is my destiny.

God must have had a reason to bestow upon me this Sacred Power. Ever since my powers manifested at birth, I’ve believed it was fate to make me the Lady—even if it’s just to add flair to the role.

Lady Elina V gazed sorrowfully. She vividly remembered wandering cold winter streets, scavenging food discarded by others during her childhood.

Abandoned by her biological parents and left to wander the streets, she might have perished if not for Duke Liniat, who discovered her by chance and raised her as his own. Despite knowing she could wield Sacred Power unlike ordinary people, she remained grateful.

Once a homeless girl, she became a noble lady—and now, the nation’s Lady. Her destiny is to safeguard global peace.

The tale of our Lady is just beginning, albeit slowly.

Chapter 8: The Tyrant’s Daughter, A Classic Case

From early morning, Karlahee was buried in state affairs. With his close aide, Duke Estevan, confined, his schedule was tighter than ever. Moreover, the workload had grown far beyond what one person could handle.

‘I need to recruit a new close aide.’

Just as he left his office to post a recruitment notice, an official suddenly spoke from outside the door.

Your Highness, have you attended to all the state affairs?

I stepped out briefly on other business.

Other business, you say… If you have time, why not see Her Highness, the Princess? Given her status, it wouldn’t hurt to show your face at least once…

The Princess?

Karlahee glared at the official as if to say, ‘What nonsense is this?’ The old man fidgeted nervously, worried he might have offended him.

Her Highness is still young. She requires a father’s warm attention and affection.

…Or could she be frail?

It was a polite way of asking if she was unwell. The official shook his head and continued with a sorrowful expression.

Won’t you see her even once? I beg you, this old man. The Princess, abandoned at birth, is truly pitiful…

But how can you have a daughter when you don’t even have a wife?

That’s right. But she is Your Highness’s daughter. Truly, Your Highness’s only daughter.

Communication broke down; it was as if speaking with a foreigner would be easier given the dreadful discourse.

In the end, thinking it better to see her once than to talk endlessly, Karlahee followed the official to the room housing the Princess. To his surprise, the room featured a central baby cradle and toys neatly arranged throughout.

At the far end of the room, he met the gaze of a nurse cradling something as she moved about. Startled, she simply bowed her head to avoid waking the slumbering Princess.

Karlahee strode across the room and stood before the nurse.

Is that my daughter…?

The young Emperor, with his striking auburn hair and an air of arrogance, raised his chin as if to show off. Rumor had it his nature was so cruel that none—except perhaps the Female Lead—could hope for mercy. The nurse, anxious, lowered her gaze and tentatively presented the Princess cradled in her arms.

Karlahee averted his eyes to glance at the doll-like figure clutched by the nurse. As she tilted the Princess’s face into view, her round eyelids lifted slightly, giving her a drowsy, teary look.

Is this truly my daughter…?

For the first time, the usually indifferent Emperor’s face registered shock. His trembling hand reached out for the Princess, and as the nurse and the old official inhaled sharply, he hoisted her into the air.

Why is this my daughter!

Your Highness!! If you continue, the Princess will truly perish! Please, desist!

Who are you to speak so gravely?

Feeling guilty for his interference, Karlahee softly tossed the doll to the nurse. She clutched it and sat down, weeping. With its tilted stance and half-open eyes, the doll looked eerily uncanny.

Quite brazen, your plastic eyes…

Karlahee glanced at the doll and departed, thinking both must be off their meds and in need of serious cutting soon.

Poor Princess… how long has it been since her birth… abandoned…

After the Emperor left, the nurse had to repeatedly wipe her own tears from the Princess’s delicate cheeks. Yet, her resilience kept her from bursting into sobs.

Was it wrong for her to be born as the tyrant’s daughter? The Princess, cast aside at birth and barely saved by officials, made one wonder if such cruelty could extend even to one’s own child. The nurse truly pitied her.

The next day, while Karlahee looked into drug tests, he was approached by four men. Less than a day after the recruitment notice for a new aide went up, 1,500 applicants flooded in nationwide, from which four final candidates were selected.

One was the eldest son of the Rockex Dukedom, another a Marquis of Sixteen, and the remaining two boasted striking good looks.

Having emerged through a fierce public audition, Karlahee regarded the four with hopeful, even expectation-filled eyes.

Let’s start with introductions.

Yes!

The eldest son of the Rockex Dukedom, wearing badge number 1, rose and declared,

“Greetings. I am Clyde Rockex, the eldest son of the Rockex Dukedom. Born in the blessed lands of Rockex, where the mountains, water, and air are pristine, I have always learned the values of responsibility and diligence under my devoted father. My motto is to face any challenge head-on, and if selected, I will faithfully serve Your Highness by his side. Thank you.”