Chapter 30 With Interest, Your Majesty

“Did you think you could play with me, Lydia?”

When Richard, who had been expressionless throughout, smiled, Lydia momentarily flinched. At the same time, guards who had been hiding behind pillars stepped forward.

They had their hands on their sword hilts, ready to draw at any moment.

Are you threatening me?

‘Hmph, did he think I’d give in so easily?’

Though she snorted inwardly, her fingers trembled slightly with instinctive fear. Lydia tightly gripped the hem of her priestess robe to hide her trembling fingers.

“My father committed countless sins. Yet among all those sins, the oracle specifically pointed out the Bayern family’s case?”

“Perhaps the Goddess felt sorry. She chose me as a saintess, which separated me from Sir Arsen. Right before our wedding.”

Could he really be so reluctant to grant one ducal title? He had even fabricated the oracle and her memory loss to make himself look like a benevolent ruler.

Yet Richard struggled desperately to give up as little as possible.

Was he that afraid of Arsen? Did he fear Arsen would threaten him if he regained his ducal title?

‘He wasn’t this bad when he was a prince.’

They say those who gain power desire even more—Richard was the perfect example.

“Come to properly repent before the Goddess, Your Majesty. Anastasia does not turn away those who repent.”

She had stayed quiet when Arsen said he only needed to reclaim his family name, but not anymore. If Richard was going to be this petty, she had no choice but to respond in kind.

Yes, she had already prepared herself for death. Even if she died here today by Richard’s hand, she would have no regrets since Richard would also die without the cure.

Lydia summoned her courage.

“Realistically, it would be difficult to return the territory. There are already those who govern it.”

Getting the territory back wasn’t entirely beneficial for Arsen and Lydia either. The ducal territory was far from the borderlands, which would make it troublesome to manage while going back and forth.

“Then?”

“Instead of territory, you could add a higher title. Higher than duke would be, let’s see, perhaps grand duke?”

“Grand duke? You want me to grant a grand ducal title?”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh out loud in disbelief. grand duke and Duke were completely different dimensions. The grand ducal title included succession rights to the imperial throne, and a grand duke’s territory was essentially an autonomous region.

Within his territory, a grand duke was virtually a king. A grand duke’s wife wasn’t called a “duchess” but “Herr Highness the Grand Duchess,” suggesting the possibility of eventually becoming an independent principality.

“If you subordinate one or two small territories around Count Wonde’s territory, it would be large enough to be called a grand duke’s domain.”

“You’re asking me to carve out a piece of the country.”

So why couldn’t he have properly repented when given the chance? This was all because of the emperor’s excessive greed.

“Make Sir Arsen the godfather of the child Empress Rozena will bear. Then, even if something happens to Your Majesty, Her Majesty the empress won’t be able to harm the child. Also, think about His Highness the prince. He could develop the same disease.”

Take this opportunity to properly repent and cure your son’s disease too. That was Lydia’s proposal.

“Looking at it that way, it’s not a losing deal for you, is it? You’ll gain more than if you kill me here.”

“……Ha, Lydia.”

Richard bowed toward Lydia. His eyes were cold enough to freeze her, but his mouth was spread wide open, creating an extremely grotesque appearance.

“Did Marquis Evansi instruct you to do this?”

Is that all you have to say? Lydia couldn’t help but laugh derisively.

“Father hasn’t visited the temple for a while.”

“So these are all your own ideas?”

About to answer that the Goddess had shown her the way, Lydia merely shrugged her shoulders. She felt he wouldn’t believe her anyway.

“The cure is certain?”

“You’ve taken it yourself, so you know.”

“But it’s medicine made by your hands. Who could hate me more than you do, right?”

Richard finally realized. Lydia hadn’t completely fallen for Arsen and forgotten her resentment toward him.

She had merely been hiding it. From her eyes looking directly at him now, he could read Lydia’s coldly settled anger.

“I don’t hate you enough to want to kill you. Thanks to you, I met Sir Arsen.”

She considered it a fair price to pay.

“What about you, Your Majesty?”

“What about what?”

“Don’t you regret letting me go?”

* * *

‘Do I regret it?’

Even after Lydia left, Richard let out a hollow laugh in disbelief. To brazenly ask such a question with a face showing absolutely no lingering attachment to him.

‘I underestimated her, yes, I made a mistake.’

He had thought she was a stupid girl, but she wasn’t. He tried to intimidate her to get the cure, but it didn’t work. Perhaps receiving the oracle had made her brave, or something else.

“How did it go, Your Majesty?”

“No progress at all. She demanded a grand ducal title.”

“Pardon?”

Rather, he seemed likely to lose more. Richard’s fingers drummed faster and faster on his office desk. Before that fiery anger rose and consumed his reason, he needed to decide.

“She said forget the territory, give her a grand ducal title. Then she’ll cure the disease the prince might develop in the future and protect Rozena’s child.”

“The marquis’s daughter didn’t come to deliver an oracle but to negotiate a deal.”

Count Bergman quietly cleared his throat with a small “hmm.” He felt trapped.

A trap they couldn’t escape from. Whether it was Lydia’s palm or the Goddess’s, being played in someone else’s hand was certainly not pleasant.

However, they needed the cure, they needed Arsen, and they had already missed one opportunity.

“What do you think, Count? Should I bow my head to Lydia to get the cure?”

“……With all due respect, yes.”

Bergman took a gamble with Richard. From the moment he sided with Richard during the coup, Bergman’s fate was tied to his. If Richard fell, Bergman would sink with him.

‘The prince is too young, and the Kingdom of Quecini has the grown Fourth Prince.’

Though he would be borrowing the power of a foreign country, the Fourth Prince had legitimate succession rights and the justification of replacing an emperor who had become a madman due to a curse-like disease.

If he took the throne in Richard’s place and then passed the imperial throne to Michael, the nobles’ opposition wouldn’t be too severe.

“If Sir Arsen receives a grand ducal title, he will become someone who could threaten Your Majesty.”

“That’s right.”

“But the Kingdom of Quecini and the Fourth Prince are already threatening Your Majesty.”

The Fourth Prince was a sword at their throat. Arsen was still a sword in its sheath, one that might never be drawn. It was clear which one needed to be dealt with first.

“If Count Sten holds them off while we send imperial troops to support him, we might prevent them from crossing the border.”

“Count Sten won’t last long. When he returned to his territory, he left behind all the private soldiers he had brought to the capital. I heard he also pulled out all private soldiers stationed at the border and cut unnecessary personnel.”

Having been demoted, he probably didn’t want to risk the emperor’s suspicion again.

“He won’t fight hard, since he must hate me. Count Sten might even prefer the Fourth Prince over me.”

Count Bergman couldn’t deny this.

“That’s my fault too.”

He couldn’t deny this either.

“The imperial army hasn’t regained its former strength. That’s also my fault for staging the coup.”

Richard just laughed out loud now. He had thought everything would be fine once he became emperor. He believed there would be no obstacles in his path.

“Send all knights and imperial troops to the border, keeping only the minimum here, and send a messenger to Sir Arsen.”

“I’ll tell him to come as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, since he’s such a precious sword about to become a grand duke, we should swing him as much as possible, shouldn’t we?”

The count left Richard, who was letting out an empty laugh, and immediately wrote a letter to send to Arsen. While there were other knights in the Empire, the reputation of the Black Wolf Knight Order was worth utilizing.

Besides, the longer someone was kept on the battlefield, the higher their chances of dying, right? What use would a grand ducal title be to a dead man?

Bergman dispatched the messenger, hoping to deal with both the Fourth Prince and Arsen at once.

However, even after sending second and third messengers in succession, there was no response. It wasn’t that they were dawdling. They were trying their best to return as quickly as possible.

“When on earth will the Margrave return?”

“Look, we’ve told you we don’t know. If you’re in such a hurry, go in and look for him yourself. We’ll give you directions.”

The first messenger went to what had been Count Wonde’s residence but came up empty. Instead, he learned from a representative that Arsen had crossed the river to the borderlands and was staying at the Edis mansion.