#151. Isn’t My Desire Reason Enough?
One morning, I opened the door to my office, only to find His Majesty there.
“Good morning. Isn’t it a lovely morning?”
I instinctively stepped back, almost questioning whether I’d come to the wrong room.
But aside from the presence of someone who shouldn’t be here, the room looked exactly as I intended—exactly how I had prepared it.
In other words, the reality was that His Majesty was indeed sitting in my office.
“…What brings you here?” I asked.
“I heard you were doing well at what you do, so I thought I’d try doing well myself,” he said, folding the paper he had been reading with a crisp snap, a small smile playing on his lips.
I had no idea what document he had been reading… and I swallowed a small groan of distress.
His Majesty had comfortably settled into my office under the title “Blanche Roa Vandaluin’s Suitor.”
Riana was here in her role as His Majesty’s protector.
Of course, their titles alone weren’t enough to curb everyone’s curiosity. Everyone wanted to know who His Majesty and Riana really were.
Some even quietly asked me, though that was as far as the rumors went.
Yet the fact that the empire’s Archduke and the Empress were here without a single guard made the situation so absurd that, despite the direct hint that he was my suitor, no one had fully realized their identities.
Or perhaps, even if someone suspected, the idea was so far-fetched that it was dismissed before reaching rumor status.
In any case, it seemed His Majesty had no intention of leaving anytime soon, which left me effectively stuck in my office as well.
Just as His Majesty understood that I had no intention of attacking the Lertyle Empire, I knew he had no intent to ruin my plans.
Still, old habits die hard. I had no choice but to comply.
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.
“Did the guards not understand the order to keep this corridor clear?” I muttered.
I had already allowed His Majesty to stay here as my suitor, even giving my subordinates strict orders to treat him appropriately.
But that didn’t mean it was acceptable to bring someone into my office—especially someone who wasn’t even my fiancée.
His Majesty handed me the folded paper, smiling faintly.
“Don’t be too hard on them. I didn’t pass through the corridor myself,” he said.
Had he come through the window, then? I looked at it in disbelief.
The long, wide southern-style window was certainly large enough for someone to slip through.
The only problem was that we were on the seventh floor… had His Majesty really trained in such feats?
Sensing my suspicion, he added,
“Nothing’s impossible for you, sister.”
I wished it weren’t true.
Ultimately, I had to concede.
“If necessary, I’ll grant you permission to enter my office, but please refrain from such risky behavior,” I said.
I didn’t want to even imagine the consequences if he had fallen.
After all, His Majesty didn’t need to read the documents to understand the situation perfectly. It would be better to let him see everything openly.
“Is this more dangerous than standing on the battlefield?”
His smile didn’t waver—still warm, still generous.
Yet his eyes were cold.
Not even the sun shining beyond the window could warm them.
I considered pretending not to understand, but I knew he would inevitably draw the answer from me.
So, I stopped feigning ignorance and answered honestly.
“Even if I risk danger, Your Majesty need not do the same.”
“Then there’s no reason I wouldn’t.”
Instead of answering, I unfolded the paper His Majesty had handed me. It contained nothing extraordinary—just a list categorizing the Cartian nobles into three groups.
It didn’t even state the criteria for classification, so an ordinary person could glean no useful information from it.
“Moving troops might be difficult. Am I correct?”
But such a disguise didn’t fool His Majesty. I sighed as he spoke, clearly understanding the classification without any explanation.
The list separated the Cartian nobles into those likely to cooperate with Lamore, those likely to oppose, and those whose allegiance was uncertain.
I had planned to crush the middle group to win over the third.
After all, my strength lay in warfare. Seeing rebels subdued by force would prevent anyone else from thinking of resisting.
Of course, I’d subtly incite them instead of openly showing hostility, as overt aggression would look bad.
Considering the eventual conquest of the south, the best strategy would be to provoke rebellion while allowing them connections to other nations. Then, I could swiftly suppress them and use their foreign alliances as a pretext to invade.
The third group would then quickly change their stance. By the time the south was pacified, they would pretend to have supported Lamore from the start.
That was my general plan—but with His Majesty and Riana settled in the castle, I could no longer execute it.
I couldn’t leave two high-ranking individuals behind without proper authority to govern.
This wasn’t a matter of trust—it was a procedural issue. Leaving two non-Lamore affiliates of such high rank, without a capable leader in charge, was absurd.
Thus, the Cartian nobles became my new headache.
Managing the second group without confrontation and winning over the third, all without provoking resistance, was extremely difficult.
“Shall I take care of them then?”
His suggestion was tempting. Surely, he could handle it well.
Even in a previous life, he had effortlessly controlled obstinate nobles.
Unlike me, he didn’t need to move armies. He had never personally gone to war.
All he needed to control people were a few words, gestures, the tangled relationships between them, and unseen rumors.
On the surface, he seemed to do nothing, yet people always delivered what he wanted out of fear and respect.
I had never seen anyone as adept as His Majesty at manipulating people.
If he were to take over this task, it would be perfectly managed without my intervention. I trusted that.
Yet a recurring question lingered.
“His Majesty has no need to do this.”
If he wanted stability in Cartia, he could simply leave, and I would govern through war.
If he didn’t want to leave, he could just watch me fumble.
Either way, I would devise a new strategy.
Although unknown to many, His Majesty was the Archduke of Lertyle and the heir to the empire.
If it became known that he helped stabilize Cartia after its conquest, it might cause complications.
Yet why bother?
Even if it seems easy, manipulating seasoned nobles to one’s will is no small task.
Still, he chose to enter my office through the window and provide the assistance I needed.
“Isn’t my desire reason enough?”
“One, Your Majesty hasn’t… enjoyed such… activities in this life,” I said.
I knew how easily he could dominate others.
This meant that if he had wished, all the empire’s nobles would have been under his control, whether he had entered society or not.
Yet he deliberately chose not to expand his influence. Even before I took the poison, he lived quietly, as if he weren’t even the heir apparent.
So perhaps he simply doesn’t enjoy such tasks.
If that’s the case, why would he go out of his way to do something he doesn’t enjoy for a foreign land?
This was the part I could not comprehend.
