“Did you know Lette was a witch?”

That night, Helia asked Ruben, who, as usual, had come to her study. Ruben shook his head lightly.

“It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

Ever since Helia had collapsed coughing up blood, nothing short of her own death seemed capable of shocking Ruben Effenberg. Even if Lette had turned out to be a monster instead of a witch, he likely wouldn’t have been fazed. But instead of saying so, he responded with a faint smile.

“First, announce to the revolutionary army that I am officially their leader and that Lette has sworn her loyalty to me.”

“Lette has already convened the entire revolutionary force. The news should have spread by now.”

“Well done.”

Helia smiled in satisfaction before her expression turned serious. She fixed her gaze on Ruben, who mirrored her serious demeanor.

“Ruben.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’m not just trying to overthrow the kingdom. Bailey deserves to disappear into the annals of history. I intend to build a new nation on its ashes.”

“Of course, as you wish.”

“And about that…”

For once, Helia hesitated. Ruben waited patiently, meeting her gaze, until she glanced away. He quickly deduced what she was struggling to say. It wasn’t a complex matter, so why was she hesitating? To ease her discomfort, he gave her a reassuring smile.

Helia cleared her throat, feigning authority, and spoke formally.

“Ruben Effenberg. I bestow upon you the honor of offering your territory as the foundation of my new nation.”

Though she called it an honor, the reality was no different from a demand to hand over his lands. No tyrant had ever claimed territory from a noble in such a way. Yet Ruben smiled serenely as if this was precisely what he wanted. He raised one arm and bowed deeply.

“It is an honor, Your Majesty.”

“Already calling me ‘Your Majesty,’ are you?”

“Of course.”

Helia chuckled. In truth, it was inevitable that the Effenberg territory would become the heart of the revolutionary army. It was an ideal location for the capital of the new kingdom. Still, what weighed on her was that the Effenberg ducal house would vanish along with Bailey. Unlike other nobles, Ruben wouldn’t be allowed to preserve his family name.

“Are you okay with that?”

Of course, she planned to take the territory regardless of his answer, but she asked out of a semblance of courtesy. Helia had no choice but to discard the name Bailey, but Ruben’s situation differed. He took pride in being an Effenberg and wanted to honor the legacy of his predecessors. His entire life’s work was tied to that name. Losing it would mean erasing that history.

“Didn’t I already say I would give you everything?”

Ruben had long been prepared for this. Though he felt a twinge of guilt toward his ancestors who had fought to preserve the Effenberg name, he considered it just one of many things he was willing to offer her.

Helia didn’t realize it, but he had already devoted everything to her almost excessively. Now, all she needed to do was take what she required when the time came.

“Alright. Then I’ll make good use of it,” Helia said with a wide grin.

Ruben felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, almost to the point of guilt, for she could smile so confidently in front of him. The feeling was so intense that he wanted to embrace her, but he suppressed the urge. He was someone who dared not touch her first.

“What should we do about Lette’s saintess title?”

“I’m still pondering that myself.”

“For now, keeping her as the saintess would help attract people, but it’s also impractical to conceal the fact that she’s a witch.”

“It all comes down to timing.”

Announcing that Lette was a witch was inevitable, especially if they were to establish the nation with the aid of magic. However, they couldn’t ignore the potential fallout once the news spread. Some would leave—those still undecided between Lette and Helia and those who had already pledged their loyalty to Helia’s revolutionary army. These individuals might switch back to the Bailey monarchy to secure their survival after betraying it.

“I’ll need to hear Lette’s opinion on this. For now, things will be noisy with tonight’s announcement. Once everything settles down, come with Lette to see me.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, and I’d like to meet the administrators. Who’s in charge of that?”

Ruben hesitated briefly at her question, but it was a hurdle they would eventually need to overcome. He answered candidly, “Ikael gives the orders, and Enoch acts on them.”

“Hmm.” Helia shot Ruben a sidelong glance. They were the ones who had once tried to take her life. However, it was also confirmed that those two had played a significant role in persuading the revolutionary army under Ruben’s guidance.

Helia held no grudges against them, but their tension was undeniable. They, too, must have felt uncomfortable around her. Ruben served as a bridge between them for now, but a smooth collaboration was out of the question. Moreover, she was destined to lead them all. Sooner or later, they’d have to face each other. Better to get it over with quickly.

“Send Ikael Tyr tomorrow.”

In such situations, it was best to target the head first. Given that he was a noble, communication would be easier. And considering Enoch’s opposition to Helia, excluding him for now might subtly undermine his stance.

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

Rather than dissuading her, Ruben gazed at her slightly worriedly. Helia knew what he was concerned about. However, this was also an opportunity to test Ikael’s loyalty. Without Ruben’s presence, how far would Ikael bow his head to her? Of course, it was Helia’s job to extract that loyalty, and she was confident in her ability.

***

“So,” Helia muttered, her brows furrowed in frustration as she glanced at the man standing before her from her seat at her desk.

Late at night, Ruben’s usual spot was occupied by Ikael Tyr. He looked rather awkward, standing stiffly with an uneasy expression. He acted as if he hadn’t come here of his own accord, avoiding even making eye contact with her.

“Why are you here?”

Helia casually threw the documents Ikael had brought at his feet as she asked. Ikael quickly lifted his head to explain but flinched when their eyes met and immediately lowered his gaze again. He stammered in a barely audible voice, “To maintain internal stability within the revolutionary army, the saintess and the Duke of Effenberg had to intervene personally, leaving me no choice.”

It wasn’t as though he felt at ease in her presence. This was the person he had once driven to the brink of death due to his own misjudgment. The guilt was so overwhelming that it bred resentment toward her. He wanted to accuse her, to ask why she hadn’t revealed her plans sooner. If he’d known, they would’ve supported her from the start. But he didn’t have the right to say such things.

He had no right. That’s why he couldn’t even meet Helia’s eyes, keeping his head bowed and maintaining the posture of a sinner.

“So, the Duke of Effenberg thought nothing of sending someone who tried to kill me here?”

“That’s…!”

He couldn’t understand it either. There was no way she would want to see him, yet Ruben insisted on sending him in his place. Ikael had asked repeatedly if he could avoid coming, but Ruben only replied coldly that he should meet her in person and atone for his sins. But how could any words repay the weight of his wrongs? And so, Ikael could only keep his head bowed.

Helia stared at him quietly. Though she couldn’t see his eyes due to his lowered head, she already knew the kind of light he bore. It wasn’t overwhelmingly favorable, but it didn’t give her a bad impression either. The brightness of his aura wasn’t as intense as Ruben’s, but it was more radiant than most. Considering his capabilities and intelligence, he was a reasonably helpful asset. Helia assessed him as such—a figure spoken of as Bailey’s chief administrator and a contender for the future chancellor position.

What Ikael didn’t realize was that Helia orchestrated this situation through Ruben. She skillfully feigned displeasure, masking her true intentions. Even without Ruben’s involvement, she needed to ensure Ikael’s allegiance was entirely hers. People were precious to her—talented individuals even more so.

“And?”