Chapter : 21
An audience with a member of the imperial family usually required a formal letter sent several days in advance.
Exceptions existed for urgent political matters, but for a private audience, such courtesy was mandatory.
Even if something were urgent, it was still a personal issue — and no personal reason could justify rudeness.
The door burst open as if it might break from the force, and Marquis Lothes staggered in, panting heavily.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down as he gasped for breath.
His golden eyes — the same color as his daughter’s — trembled with anxiety and fear, his ragged breathing shattering the stillness in the room.
He gripped the doorframe for balance, his disheveled appearance far removed from the haughty dignity he always prided himself on.
He looked less like a noble and more like prey cornered by a predator.
“What brings you here, Marquis?”
The empress’s violet eyes glinted coldly as they turned toward him.
“…I–Is it true, Your Majesty?”
“What is?”
“That either I or my daughter must participate in the war—”
“Ha…”
Cassielope exhaled a deep sigh, cutting off his words that came tumbling out in a panic.
With an expression of utter boredom, she tapped her fingers lightly against the sofa.
The rhythmic sound echoed through the tense silence.
“So this is what all the fuss is about?”
“‘This’? Your Majesty, this is participation in war! We are to go to the battlefield!
It was Your Majesty who put us in this situation — and yet you call it ‘this’?”
Marquis Lothes shouted in outrage. Cassielope lifted her index finger to her lips, motioning for silence.
“Your voice is too loud, Marquis. I believe I’ve warned you several times already, but it seems you’ve no intention of correcting that habit.”
“Now is not the time for that, Your Majesty!”
“It is the time. What I gave you was not advice, but a warning — in other words, an order.”
Cassielope elegantly crossed her legs and rested her chin upon one hand.
“And yet you never learn. It seems defying the Empress’s command is one of your specialties.”
“…”
“Do you feel wronged? Are you angry that, because of me, your house may be sent to the battlefield?”
His silence said enough. Cassielope let out a quiet, biting laugh.
“Then you should have conducted yourself properly from the start, rather than panting in here like a hound after the damage is done.”
A vein bulged on the marquis’s forehead. His breathing came unevenly — but he managed to steady himself.
“Your Majesty must be mistaken. The authority to order military participation lies solely with His Imperial Majesty, not with you.”
He spoke as though he had found some hidden leverage.
Desperation often strips a man of reason — and right now, that was exactly what had happened to him.
“Is that so?”
Cassielope’s calm question made his brows twitch upward in confusion.
“I can’t tell if you’re naive or simply foolish.”
“What did you just—!”
“To think you’d assume I don’t know something so basic, Marquis.”
Her clear eyes glimmered coldly, an unsettling madness flickering within them.
The marquis froze as a voice came from the door.
“Your Majesty, may I come in? It’s Ian.”
“Come in.”
At her command, Ian entered without so much as a glance at who else was inside.
He approached Cassielope directly, holding out a stack of documents with a polite bow.
“These are the documents concerning the Kingdom of Belmoria.
As per your statement, Your Majesty will personally lead the war effort as supreme commander, correct?”
At those words, Marquis Lothes’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
Even the three noble lords who had been quietly observing looked visibly shaken — none had expected this turn of events.
“That’s right,” Cassielope replied evenly.
“As you instructed, the Lothes family has been recorded as one of the participating houses.”
“Good. You may go.”
Ian bowed again and left the room.
Silence fell — so complete that even the sound of breathing could be heard.
“Ah, and to correct what you said earlier — the authority to order participation in war lies with the supreme commander, not the Emperor, Marquis.”
“Y–Your Majesty… that…”
“Until I was deposed, I personally served as supreme commander in every campaign.
It’s no surprise you wouldn’t know that, since your house has never once been called to arms.”
Her eyes softened into a graceful curve.
“Now you understand, don’t you?
And to add — according to imperial law, one noble family must always provide a participant, regardless of the war’s scale.”
“…Then why has it never happened before?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Since the reign of the late Emperor, the Duke of Euriel’s house has always volunteered first.
But now that the Euriel line has no one left fit to fight, the duty must rotate among the central noble families.”
This was not an issue unique to the Lothes family.
When Cassielope’s gaze swept toward the other nobles, they flinched.
The Lothes house had merely drawn the short straw this time — but eventually, everyone’s turn would come.
It was the moment they realized the consequences of usurping the throne for their own convenience were finally tightening around their necks.
“Only one person from the house must go.
If they’re lucky, they might even survive and return.”
The mention of death made the marquis visibly tremble.
Die? He couldn’t die — not like this.
Cassielope added, almost idly:
“I did say one among you or Lady Seren must go.
But as long as it’s a member of the Lothes family, it matters little to me.
Ah — if your eldest son were to go, given his swordsmanship, his chances of survival would be much higher.”
She watched him closely.
Everyone knew how deeply Marquis Lothes adored his heir, Eirvan Lothes.
It was well known he had disobeyed the Empress’s order to send Eirvan to the palace — his affection outweighed his fear of punishment.
After all, Eirvan was the son of the family that had dethroned her — the marquis had feared the Empress might seek revenge on him.
Inwardly, the marquis whispered to himself:
Eirvan cannot go.
Eirvan was his only heir — the future of House Lothes.
Better to risk his daughter than lose his successor.
He thought quickly.
Seren will do.
Even if she were from the Lothes family, the Empress would not let an untrained noble lady die on the battlefield.
“Seren — my daughter Seren will go.”
Cassielope’s voice dropped low.
“Are you certain, Marquis?”
She could see right through him.
Too cowardly to take responsibility himself, too protective to send his son — so he’d sacrifice his daughter instead.
As deceitful as ever, she thought bitterly.
“I am certain,” he said firmly.
“Very well. I understand. You may return to your estate.”
Unlike when he had barged in earlier, Marquis Lothes left with forced dignity, his steps heavy but controlled.
Cassielope turned to the three lords, who had sat frozen in fear since his arrival.
“I will have an answer for each of you soon — one that will satisfy everyone.
You may leave now.”
The three men hurried out, clearly relieved to escape without consequence.
When they were gone, Cassielope leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes.
“Yulia.”
From the shadows, Yulia Icart appeared silently.
“You called for me, my lady?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to the Lothes estate.”
