“Was the gift delivered properly?”

Princess Lorelei, who was sitting on the sofa eating fruit, spoke without turning around when she heard the soft sound of the door opening.

She clearly already knew who had entered the room. The person behind her replied in a quiet voice, the faint sound of fabric rustling as they took off their robe.

“It was delivered. She will likely have received it by now.”

“Good. You did well.”

Satisfied, Lorelei picked up a napkin and dabbed at her lips. She then gestured to the maid, who was standing before her with the robe, to clear away the dishes.

“And make sure she really received it. No matter what happens, see to it that she cannot leave the ducal estate until Sylvia’s wedding is over.”

Sending one or two more “gifts” is fine too.

She added those words with a pleasant smile.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The maid said nothing more. Moving with the quiet obedience expected of her, she collected the dishes and left the room.

Alone again, Lorelei sank back onto the sofa.

As Sylvia knew all too well, Lorelei did not tolerate anyone being superior to her.

Those significantly older than her were a different matter, to a degree. But among her peers, she could not endure anyone rising above her.

The person who had most recently piqued her interest and aroused her suspicions was none other than the Duchess of Ambrose, Ariadna Peyton.

Ariadne Ambrose — or rather, Ariadna Peyton — had originally been a woman of little distinction without the Peyton name.

She had inherited none of her mother’s beauty — the beauty that had earned her the title ‘Flower of the Holy Empire’ — nor did she resemble her highly talented father and brothers.

She was unremarkable in appearance and possessed no notable skills. All she truly possessed was the Peyton name — a mere accident of birth — and yet that insignificant girl had the audacity to be so insolent.

Years ago, it was common knowledge among the upper classes that Lorelei had set her sights on Kieron Ambrose as her future husband.

A hero on the battlefield.

A man whose face drew admiration from all who saw it.

He was also the holder of one of only two ducal titles in the empire.

Unfortunately, due to the council’s refusal to support him fully, he lacked the external influence befitting his rank, but in some ways that made him all the more ideal for Lorelei.

He was destined to become the consort of the next emperor. If she married a man who held too much power, someone who might dare to let treacherous ambitions take root…

No, the ideal consort was a man of striking appearance who was unwaveringly loyal to the imperial family. A man exactly like Kieron Ambrose.

She had planned everything meticulously, drawing him into her life step by step. But then Ariadne Peyton — that insolent girl — ruined everything.

Rumor had it that the two had met at the Peyton estate and fallen in love at first sight.

Lorelei found the idea laughable.

Kieron Ambrose was a cold man. Hardened by years of war, he was almost devoid of emotion and uninterested in people.

And he had fallen in love at first sight?

Absurd.

That was why she had gone to see Ariadne shortly after the wedding. She made sure to choose a time when Kieron wouldn’t be home.

The Ariadne Lorelei she remembered had always been weak. Fragile and pitiful. She was an unremarkable woman with nothing to set her apart.

Lorelei had occasionally seen her at large gatherings such as imperial balls at the palace and other formal events, but Ariadne was always shielded by her parents and brothers, so there were few opportunities for them to interact directly.

Even in those fleeting glimpses, Ariadne’s presence had seemed faint and forgettable. Seeing her up close was no different.

Still, since people whispered that Kieron had married her out of love at first sight, Lorelei had wondered if she might have changed. But Ariadne was the same: timid, unimpressive, and pitiably delicate.

Lorelei was absolutely certain: That was not the face of a woman who was loved.

The rumors circulating in society had to be completely false. This meant that prying Kieron away from that woman would be easy.

Ariadne’s health was said to be fragile, if Lorelei applied just a little pressure, Ariadne would probably collapse of her own accord.

If Ariadne broke down and left Kieron of her own accord, a place would naturally open up beside him for Lorelei.

From that point on, Lorelei kept her eyes on House Ambrose. She observed and investigated his every movement, receiving reports on them.

It was around this time that she came into contact with Franz of the Council of Elders.

After gathering enough information about Ambrose, she approached Franz, the de facto head of the council. He was a greedy man who had seized authority over the ducal household after the former and late dukes died in quick, unforeseen accidents, and refused to relinquish it.

Tempting a man like that was almost effortless. She had a rank that could not be refused and a beauty and skill that could not be ignored.

When she suggested to Franz that becoming the consort of the Duke of Ambrose would enable the Council of Elders to tighten its grip on the ducal house far more easily, he yielded with almost laughable ease.

Even if Franz had managed to gain a stronger position within the council, the most he could have achieved would have been to strip the duke of his authority and assume the role of de facto head of the house.

As long as Kieron Ambrose was alive, Franz could never officially become the duke, nor would his name ever be entered into the noble registers as such.

All Franz could do was exercise ducal powers in practice, but never in name. He could not stand at the forefront under his own name; he could only play the part of the head.

What was so enticing about that?

Moreover, even this much authority depended entirely on the council’s unanimous support. It was a powerful position, yet Franz could never truly become “duke”.

Lorelei couldn’t fathom Franz’s desire for such hollow authority — power without the title, and influence without legitimacy. But if that was enough to satisfy him, so much the better.

If he had aspired to become the actual duke, their plans would have required far more work, risk and bloodshed.

As it stood, however, everything was unfolding smoothly.

She had persuaded Franz of the Council of Elders and uncovered Ariadné’s weaknesses. She had also armed herself with all that she had learnt about Ambrose.

With this knowledge, they planned to corner Kieron and force him to abandon Ariadne without hesitation.

Lorelei and Franz were both confident.

However, Kieron rejected their proposal outright. They hadn’t even managed to present the arguments they had painstakingly prepared.

He dismissed them with a single irritated remark: “Marrying once is more than enough.”

Yet to Lorelei, it seemed far more likely that he simply had no intention of leaving Ariadne. It was as if he liked her enough to refuse to abandon her.

Despite appearances, Kieron Ambrose was an easy man to read. He rarely voiced his thoughts, but with the slightest prompting, his true feelings were painfully obvious.

She knew that provoking him when he behaved like that would only backfire.

But she needed him.

Lorelei had long planned to ascend the imperial throne and remain upon it until the day she died peacefully of old age.

To achieve that, her consort would need to be someone who would stand unshakably at her side — someone who would not be challenged or belittled.

No one fit that role better than Kieron Ambrose.

So she could not give up.

Not now.

Not ever.

Ariadne Peyton had neither talent nor striking beauty, so removing her would cause little trouble.

Admittedly, her father — the Marquis of Peyton — was an obstacle, but if he could take her back after a divorce, it would hardly be a bad deal for him.

With a little pressure, that timid, fragile woman would surely scurry away. Lorelei pictured the scene and smiled.

She would become emperor the most powerful sovereign in history. To achieve this, she had to eliminate every obstacle in her way.

Once she ascended the throne, all opposing forces would naturally crumble under Kieron Ambrose’s military might and her own imperial authority.

All she needed to do was prepare the way.

Her eyes gleamed as her thoughts turned to another obstacle, one far more troublesome than Ariadne.

The Emperor, her father, had agreed to pass the throne to her on the condition that she ‘take care of’ her irritating little brother. If allowed to live, he would inevitably threaten her power.

However, she only had to fulfil this duty until the Emperor died.

Lorelei could not tolerate the idea of anyone but herself holding supreme authority.

The very thought made her grind her teeth.

Why should she endure such a thing?

Once she had ascended the throne and her father was gone, Eustace and his mother would, of course, be removed from the palace.

Needless to say, they would not be leaving alive. In a palace overflowing with plots and hidden schemes, a death or two would hardly raise suspicion.

Even better, she didn’t need to wait for her father to die. She could set her plans in motion even before then. Once she became emperor, all power would be hers — she could easily ignore a fading emperor.

The thought alone filled her with cool, exhilarating satisfaction.

Disposing of Eustace and the emperor would finally make her utterly happy in every way imaginable. And, as an added bonus, there was Sylvia, that troublesome girl. She was too valuable to discard, yet too irritating to keep close.

Yes, she would eventually marry into the Peyton family, and they were certainly a clan to be monitored carefully.

However, no matter how formidable the Peytons might be, could they truly stand against Kieron Ambrose’s military might?

Lorelei herself was destined to become emperor, and the Peytons would owe her their unwavering loyalty.

The mere thought made her lift her chin with pride.

Once she became emperor, everything would fall perfectly into place.

Lost in her sweet, ludicrous fantasies, Lorelei smiled to herself, unaware of how absurd she appeared.