CHAPTER 83………………………………………………
“Hyung… you think this subjugation won’t be a light one, don’t you?”
“If it were, why would I insist on sending myself there?”
“Those bastards… it’d serve them right to be crushed. Then we should officially increase the army—”
Before Noah could continue his heated rant, Peredil cut him off. Noah looked like he might choke on his words, but he listened calmly. He believed Peredil had a reason for speaking up.
“As the Marquis said, Ska is not a difficult target for Coventin to take. If we march with a massive army, we would occupy it in an instant.”
“Then?”
“They will criticize Your Highness the moment you return. They’ll claim you assembled an excessive force for such a minor campaign. They’ll twist it into an accusation, saying you only went to display loyalty to the Empire, and they’ll look for any excuse to diminish you.”
“And if we go with a small force?”
“Then, as Your Highness expects… there’s a chance they will plot something.”
No praise came from Noah despite Peredil’s sharp insight. In his view, it was already inevitable that his brother would fall into some scheme.
His teeth clenched so hard he could barely speak. No matter which path they took, there was a wall waiting—like a maze with no exit. The thought that there was no way to pull his brother out of it made him furious… and bitterly resentful.
“What if we prepare a covert unit?” Peredil suggested. “Could Count Woodville select only those we can truly trust? If troops are needed, we can deploy them immediately.”
“I will handle it discreetly so no information leaks,” the Count replied.
Theo accepted their plan with a silent nod. Even if their numbers were small, compared to the noble faction’s ragtag forces, Duke Seymour and Count Woodville were worth ten thousand soldiers. And though his younger brother was hot-tempered, he could restrain himself when it mattered.
For a moment, Theo even thought… perhaps the Empire wouldn’t collapse even if he never returned to the capital.
Of course, he kept that thought to himself. He knew his brother would never allow it.
Peredil and the Count bowed politely. Peredil was about to leave behind the Count when Theo called out, making him stop. The Count gestured that he would leave first and stepped away.
“I didn’t expect the Duke of Seymour to want me alive this badly.”
“Isn’t it only right? You will be my sovereign someday.”
“They say you have no talent in martial arts?”
“It’s not that I lack talent. I simply have another field where I excel more, so it never had the chance to shine.”
“Really? Then when I return… how about you try taking my sword once?”
Was he calling him over just to pick a fight?
Peredil thought so, yet assumed Theo must have something else to say.
But contrary to expectation, Theo truly had called him only to provoke him. There was no other reason.
Peredil wasn’t useless, but he wasn’t skilled enough to stand at the vanguard. He had known that early and taken another important post in the Empire. He’d never felt ashamed of it—choosing what one was best at was simply rational.
Still, being summoned like this by a prince he wasn’t even close to, being told to “take his sword”… for the first time, Peredil felt bitter about his lack of martial talent.
Not that being better than the prince would allow him to strike him down.
Besides, back when he didn’t know Theo’s identity and thought he was only Joyce’s commoner friend, Peredil had already looked down on him enough.
He decided this petty provocation was something he simply had to endure.
“I will obey if it is an order… assuming you return safely.”
Peredil bowed calmly, but Theo continued teasing.
“Then I suppose I must survive, if only to point my sword at you.”
At least he could joke now.
Compared to the miserable state he’d been in when he accused Peredil of hiding the Emperor’s illness, Theo seemed far more alive. Better this than a madman leading the Empire.
Theo shot him a look as if to ask what he was staring at.
Still… perhaps not as a ruler, but as a person, Theo was hard to like.
Even so, Peredil wished for his safety.
Because if Theo were harmed… the woman Peredil loved would surely cry.
Even if Theo became his only rival, if she cherished him, then Peredil would protect him.
Theo shivered as goosebumps rose across his skin at the fierce resolve in Peredil’s eyes.
Uncomfortable, Theo frowned and hurried him out.
“What exactly is their relationship?” Noah asked once only the brothers remained. “I can’t tell if they get along or hate each other.”
“What relationship? They irritate each other endlessly… but they also can’t stand the thought of the other being ruined.”
“So… you mean they love each other? Or they’re about to fall in love?”
Theo flicked Noah’s forehead.
“Don’t change the genre however you want. The author won’t like it.”
Rubbing his aching forehead, Noah finally burst out with all the frustration he’d been holding back.
“Who even is this ‘author’? Why am I always the only one who doesn’t know? Why?!”
Theo almost told him to send his greetings to the author he loved—
But stopped.
A retired actor clinging on would only ruin the story’s flow.
Even if he could not appear in her life’s events, he would protect the world where she existed.
To stabilize the chaotic Empire, he prepared to draw the sword he had not drawn in a long time.
***
“The Duke is acting Prime Minister?”
At Peredil’s invitation, I visited Seymour for the first time in a while after the cabinet meeting. He told me it was fine if I couldn’t make time, but he begged me to come, saying he didn’t think he could work properly if he couldn’t see me again.
After dinner, over a simple glass of wine, he told me every detail of what had happened in the palace.
I had asked… but he even confessed, in full detail, how Theo had picked a fight for no reason.
It was so vivid, it felt like the cabinet chamber was reconstructed before my eyes.
But… was it really okay to tell me all this?
What if I were a spy?
He quickly cut off my writerly imagination, saying it would soon be made public anyway.
“The acting Prime Minister isn’t me. It’s Prince Noah. I’m only an advisor. His Highness doesn’t know much about state affairs, so someone like me, with experience, has no choice but to help.”
“So basically, you’ve become the secret power behind the throne? Since Prince Noah doesn’t know much, you could quietly allocate more budget to yourself—”
Unable to suppress my writer brain, I even said it aloud.
Before I could spiral further, he grabbed both my cheeks and stretched them out.
Touching my cheese-like cheeks, he frowned as if I were terribly misguided.
“What a wicked young lady. If you sat in a high office, the Empire would shake.”
“Ow! Let gooo…”
When he finally released me, my lips stuck out on their own.
Tch. No matter how sharply I glared, he only looked at me as if I were cute.
“What would you even do with an enormous fortune?”
“I don’t know.”
I tried to sulk, but he kept staring, so I answered lazily.
“I’d build my own theater troupe. One that needs no patron.”
“Then just ask Woodville to build it. With their wealth, it wouldn’t be difficult.”
He already offered, you know?
“Or… you could even have the Seymour Theater…”
He trailed off uncertainly, as if watching my reaction.
Suspicious of his awkwardness, I didn’t bother being gentle.
“Are you proposing right now?”
“I knew you’d say that. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
His serious expression made it seem like he truly meant it.
“Woodville and Seymour aren’t my name. I want it to be the Joyce Theater.”
I complained bitterly at the sad reality that only nobles could own a troupe.
Even with a second life, reality always appeared to remind me:
This is as far as you can go.
Don’t want more.
Compared to my first life, I had achieved my dream… but the constraints of status and gender were still impossible to love.
Still, I should be satisfied just becoming a troupe leader with Woodville’s help.
If I hadn’t accepted their proposal to seduce Peredil… I wouldn’t even have that.
“I’ve never thought about it before, but…”
While I reflected briefly on how tragic life could be, Peredil seemed lost in thought too.
Then, with an unusually serious look, he spoke.
Slowly, his lips parted.
What was he trying to say?
The longer he hesitated, the more my curiosity grew. Tension coiled in the air, and I swallowed unconsciously.
At last, he spoke.
“…Do you still want to act?”
