WTSP - 19

Serdel, clad in his navy-blue uniform, strode into the reception hall with an indifferent expression.

If I was startled, how must the Phainus duo feel? Their mouths hung open as if robbed of all language. For a fleeting moment, I felt a pang of pity for them.

After all, Serdel was an emperor capable of wiping out every member of House Phainus without hesitation.

Even if they were villains, executing their entire family seemed excessively cruel. I inwardly clicked my tongue and studied his expression.

“I had just dealt with urgent matters regarding a conspiracy led by House Giert when this came up… It seems there are more traitors than I anticipated.”

“Y-Your Majesty! Treason? Never! It’s not true!”

“Then what exactly did I hear? What punishment do you think is fitting for someone who attempted to poison the empress using the emperor’s name?”

“Serdel. Could we have a private conversation for a moment? Let these two step aside.”

Sir Phainus gasped audibly when I casually called him “Serdel.” No one dared utter the emperor’s name so freely, let alone shorten it like a nickname. 

I had deliberately used that name knowing they’d hear it—and it hit its mark perfectly.

Serdel tilted his head with interest at my suggestion, then flicked his fingers toward Harpin, the captain of the knights.

“Take them to the underground dungeon. Their punishment will be decided later.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

It seemed such incidents were frequent enough that Harpin and the knights moved with practiced ease, binding the arms of the Phainus pair.

The count, looking around in disbelief, scrambled to kneel before Serdel.

But the Emperor of Carlot merely clicked his tongue with evident annoyance.

“You don’t even realize you’re begging the wrong person for forgiveness. Harpin, why are you still standing there? Take them away.”

“Y-Your Majesty! We’ve committed a grave sin. Please show mercy… Mercy!”

“Enough talk.”

While the count struggled, Harpin silently dragged them out. As they were hauled away, something black fell from the count’s head with a soft thud.

Could it be? So that’s why he looked awkward—it was a wig?

Apparently overhearing my muttered comment, Lena stifled laughter behind her hand, snickering softly. Served him right. Watching the bald-headed count being dragged out, I couldn’t help but feel another twinge of pity.

They should’ve reflected while they still had the chance…

I signaled Lena, who had been standing by, that she could leave now. With a look of relief, she left the reception hall, holding Linda’s hand.

At last, a calm silence settled over the once chaotic room.

Without a word, Serdel stared at me intently and took a step closer.

I was genuinely concerned about what punishment he might impose on the Phainus family. While I wanted them to face consequences, I didn’t wish harm to come to innocent bystanders.

At that moment, he leaned close enough for his breath to graze my skin and placed his large, firm hand on my forehead.

“I heard you caught a cold.”

“Ah, yes. I couldn’t drink the tea Your Majesty sent. As you saw, someone intercepted it along the way…”

“Are you very ill?”

Startled by the unexpected question, I blinked rapidly. Was this really Serdelius Carlot? Surely this man hadn’t drunk the Gearmant-laced tea himself.

Contrary to my expectations of his perpetually cold demeanor, his hand was surprisingly warm. Perhaps my assumption that he wouldn’t show warmth to anyone but Brilline was mistaken.

After gauging my temperature, he lowered his gaze to the teacup on the table.

“That was dangerous. How did you know the tea was poisoned?”

“Ah, Her Majesty the Empress noticed first. She has an incredibly sharp eye.”

“Brilline? …I see.”

Serdel nodded thoughtfully and slowly withdrew his hand.

Suddenly, I felt the feverish heat rise again. Rubbing my flushed cheeks, I exhaled deeply.

“About what you said earlier regarding Count Phainus and his second son—”

“They dared attempt to assassinate a member of the imperial family. The entire household must bear the consequences. Don’t worry—they’ll be executed immediately.”

“No, that’s not what I meant… Please hear me out. In the Carlot Empire, you know you have to listen until the end.”

Though I had just made up that saying, who cared? Proverbs were universal, after all.

Fortunately, Serdel didn’t seem overly upset that I had cut him off mid-sentence.

Feeling my legs give out momentarily, I sank into a chair and leaned back. I’d probably be sick for three more days.

“Since they tried to assassinate me, I intend to decide the punishment for this matter myself.”

“You?”

“Yes. I never intended for Your Majesty to find out in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

It’s my problem. I want to resolve it with my own hands, not yours. I met his gaze as I spoke softly.

Of course, if I had reported it to Serdel immediately, things might have been resolved faster.

The Phainus duo wouldn’t have dared act so brazenly. That was the weight of the imperial throne.

“But I didn’t want to resort to that method.”

The story of a common girl ascending to the position of empress evoked Cinderella-like imagery. However, Brilline, the protagonist of this novel, was assertive and self-reliant.

Perhaps it was because she reflected some of my own ideals as the author. While loving an emperor was fine, Brilline believed in handling her own affairs independently.

She sought help when needed but otherwise relied on herself—a natural mindset.

And wasn’t it only right for me, the writer who created her, to live similarly?

Recalling the final moments of the Phainus duo, I organized my thoughts.

Revenge that simply returned harm for harm was childish and one-dimensional. To truly humiliate them, what choice should I make?

At that moment, Sir Phainus’s arrogant face as he belittled Rovair flashed in my mind. That would do nicely.

“Ah, I’ve thought of something.”

“Tell me.”

“They take immense pride in their noble status, so giving them a life they’ve never experienced would be the best punishment.”

“For example?”

Serdel tilted his head, intrigued by my words.

Stripping them of their noble title and demoting them to commoners. For those whose honor and power equaled life itself, this would be worse than death.

I briefly considered making Sir Phainus a servant in Rovair’s household but shook my head.

Rovair’s father was a man who callously abandoned his child simply for being illegitimate. Associating with such trash wouldn’t benefit anyone.

“How about the notoriously cruel Botonion family?”

Marquis Botonion was infamous for treating servants as less than human. He regarded non-nobles as vermin, showing weakness to the strong and extreme cruelty to the weak.

Having them grovel under Marquis Botonion as commoners wouldn’t be a bad ending.

But I didn’t want to endorse his ideology.

While the Phainus duo would undoubtedly suffer immense humiliation and hardship, supporting Botonion’s actions would be problematic.

No matter the circumstances, those who fail to treat others as human beings cannot be justified.

In that sense, Marquis Botonion too was an evil figure deserving punishment someday.

So where should I send them? My thoughts tangled like thin threads.

After enumerating the noble families of the Carlot Empire, I finally voiced the remaining candidate.

It was either this or nothing.

“I’ll demote them to commoners and assign them as servants in House Meredith.”

“Isn’t that your family? Why?”

“The idea of former counts becoming servants in a baronial household will surely torment them. They’ll start as lowly laborers, learning firsthand how diligently those they despised lived.”

“They’ll likely want to bite their tongues and die. So you’ll leave House Phainus intact?”

During my hours-long investigation of the Phainus family, I uncovered several facts.

One was that their aristocratic superiority complex had been passed down through generations, and the eldest son, Kornel Phainus, had inherited it.

His ascension as heir was almost inevitable.

“What if we remove Kornel Phainus as heir and install the third son, Sorhen Phainus, in his place?”

Count Phainus had three sons, the youngest being Sorhen—a man who grew up defying his parents’ expectations.

Unlike his obedient older brothers, he cared deeply about the tenant farmers in their territory.

Known for his kind heart and opposition to class discrimination, his name rarely appeared in records about House Phainus.

They likely hid his existence, considering him a disgrace.

Perhaps he could steer House Phainus in a positive direction.

“Very well. As you wish.”

To my surprise, Serdel accepted my proposal without objection, nodding compliantly.

Why had he suddenly become so agreeable? No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t adjust to this change.

With his unexpectedly cooperative demeanor, we left the reception hall together. The overwhelming desire to collapse onto a soft bed pressed heavily on my mind.

Perhaps that’s why, upon reaching my room escorted by Serdel, I collapsed onto the thick blanket without hesitation.

Closing my eyes now, I could sleep for two full days. I didn’t even have the energy to adjust my pillow.

Blink, blink. A deep drowsiness enveloped me. Slowly, I drifted into a profound slumber.