The atmosphere in the conference room was extremely heavy. Those who had been suddenly thrust into the heart of the nobility without even understanding the reasons for their selection still couldn’t fathom the temperament of the new emperor.

They even began to doubt whether Arkan Roxas was really of the bloodline of the Duke of Roxas, who had been both mild-mannered and principled. Was it possible that the real Arkan Roxas had perished during his time as a slave, and that Duke Mos had replaced him with an impostor?

The new emperor’s reactions were inconsistent, even to the same opinions, leaving them puzzled. Moreover, he often flew into sudden rages without any discernible pattern.

“But, Your Majesty, Count Restio…” 

Arkan’s fist slammed down on the conference table with a resounding bang. The unexpected sound made the assembled nobles jump collectively. Today was no different.

The Emperor had declared his intention to send auditors to Count Restio’s territory, even though there were no apparent problems. He gave no clear reason for his decision. If the count had been an enemy of Roxas or Mos, it might have been understandable, but Count Restio had done nothing more than live quietly in seclusion in his domain.

“If you wanted to tell the truth, you should have done so earlier.”

At the Emperor’s biting remark, delivered as if he were chewing the words, Count Meserve bowed his head deeply. 

Count Meserve had once been intimately acquainted with the Duke of Roxas. But even though he knew that the Duke had been falsely accused, he had remained silent, too afraid to confront the deposed emperor directly, and had retreated to his territory. Knowing this, it was difficult for Meserve to guess why Arkan Roxas had summoned him back to the center of power. 

The oppressive silence was broken, as always, by Duke Mos, seated to the Emperor’s right. 

“Your Majesty, don’t be like this.” 

All eyes, including the Emperor’s, turned to Duke Mos. Duke Mos, true to his reputation as a major contributor to the rebellion, flashed an easy, confident smile. 

“Why not send Count Meserve, who speaks so seriously, as an auditor?” 

Count Meserve’s eyes widened in shock. If only the Emperor had made his intentions regarding Count Restio clear, he might have been able to grasp the situation. But what could he possibly accomplish, sent into the unknown with no understanding of what was expected of him?

Arkan, as promised, pretended to think by stroking his chin. Duke Mos fought to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. 

“Let’s do what the Duke suggested.”

The rest of the agenda proceeded in much the same way. No matter who spoke, the Emperor just barked at them before finally siding with Duke Mos’ suggestions. 

Despite Arkan’s disappointing behavior so far, many had held on to a glimmer of hope, expecting something from him as the son of the Duke of Roxas. Today, however, the nobles were once again deeply disillusioned by Arkan Roxas, who was no better than a puppet of Duke Mos. Those who had hoped to plead for Marchioness Quinton – who had been imprisoned days ago without even a proper explanation of the charges – couldn’t even bring themselves to mention her name. 

Of course, it was Count Meserve who was most disturbed by the events. He left the meeting room in a daze, unsure if he was supposed to dig up every last bit of dirt in Count Restio’s territory, or if he was expected to accept bribes. No clear instructions were given, and he was practically chased out of the room. 

In the end, only Arkan and Duke Mos remained in the conference room. Arkan pressed his palms to his eyelids. 

“I’m exhausted.” 

“Why not go outside for a change?”

Arkan let out a hollow laugh at Duke Mos’ polished suggestion. The meaning of his words was all too clear – go to the princess’s palace and take out his frustrations by whipping the creatures imprisoned there. 

Day by day, under Arkan’s hand, Robellia crumbled irrevocably. But even as it crumbled, his fury showed no signs of abating. Arkan’s rage against Robellia was like a never-ending spring. Watching her pitiful state gave him some satisfaction, but it was always fleeting. 

The heads of those who had been directly involved in his father’s death had already been cut off and discarded. Everything was going smoothly, as planned. His anger towards the cowardly, snake-like individuals had been easily tempered, even on days like today. But he couldn’t understand why the flames of his rage against Robellia refused to die down. Was it because it had all started with Robellia? 

Regardless, his duties for the day were done. Following Duke Mos’ advice, Arkan decided to go to the princess’ palace to vent his simmering emotions. 

The Imperial Palace, now completely under the control of Arkan and Duke Mos, was eerily quiet. Even after his transformation from prey to predator, Arkan remained sensitive to noise. The servants, already forbidden to speak in the corridors, held their breath when they heard the Emperor’s footsteps approaching. 

Akan walked slowly down the corridor, assessing how far Robellia had fallen. When you drive someone to the depths of despair, it’s crucial to manage the depth carefully. If the pressure is too light, they will adapt and become numb to the pain, rendering it meaningless. On the other hand, if it’s too heavy, they’ll break too easily, robbing the process of any satisfaction. Of course, there are rare cases where a cornered mouse will bite back at the cat, but such a possibility was unthinkable for the weak Robellia.

At least it seemed plausible now. By the time Akan reached the bedroom, a rough plan had taken shape. The soldiers standing guard at the door stepped aside when they saw the emperor. Akan grabbed the doorknob and turned it. 

“Haa……!”

A man’s p*nis was buried deep inside Robellia as she lay face down on the bed with her hips raised. Startled by the sudden opening of the door, Robellia let out a sharp cry and turned her desperate eyes to Akan, who was standing in the doorway.

Smack!

A sharp palm slapped her b*ttocks. Despite the fresh handprint on her already reddened skin, Robellia simply opened and closed her lips like a gasping fish, unable to utter a word.

The m*n who trained Robellia bowed slightly to Akan. Akan nodded his head in greeting and sat down in the chair beside the table.

When the man shook his waist roughly, Robellia’s waist, which curved upward in a flexible curve, trembled. Her thin b*ttocks, which had lost weight from irregular eating, swayed uneasily in the air.

The reason Akan mobilized slave m*n to harass Robellia was not because he sympathized with their resentment. It was more effective to destroy Robellia completely. There was no other reason.

There is no form of education more certain than experience….They instinctively know how to act in ways that help destroy a person’s humanity, without the need for calculation or planning. When they look at the woman they’ve broken with their own hands, they feel no guilt or remorse. In the end, the more people who get in the boat, the deeper it will sink.

With one last deep thrust, the man deposited his seed into Robellia once more. As he pulled back, releasing her hips, Robellia’s exhausted body, worn down by the day’s ordeal, crumpled weakly to the side.

“Robellia. Come here.”

Robellia lifted her head, responding like a dog to its master’s call. With great effort, she forced her weakened body to move. The slave’s c*m dripped from the princess’ flushed and reddened body.

Even as she shivered and convulsed, she struggled to swing her legs off the bed…but when she lost her balance and fell, there wasn’t a single gentleman in the room to catch her. Lying on the floor, she tried several times to muster the strength in her legs, but finally gave up and crawled forward using her arms. Akan, watching Robellia crawl to her feet like a faithful dog, stroked her head lightly.