Later that evening, the study remained illuminated long after the rest of the palace turned silent.
A vast map had been fastened across the stone wall, stretching from one end of the chamber to the other beneath the wavering candlelight. Mountain paths used by merchants and armies alike. Knight designations marked in careful ink. Trade routes crossing through cities like veins beneath flesh.
Every piece of land carried value.
Every line drawn upon that map could either sustain a kingdom—
Or drown it in blood.
Ett stood before it quietly while Gammarad remained beside the long table nearby, several reports and military proposals arranged in perfect order near his arm.
Her gaze slowly traveled across the lands before stopping at a particular territory.
"Ostenian Duchy."
The corner of her lips lowered lightly.
"And Garth."
Her fingers lightly tapped the border between the two domains.
"Their relationship remains neutral for now. They may have concealed Veralis' arrival here, but secrets do not remain buried forever."
Especially among nobles.
One frightened servant.
One greedy relative.
One drunken mistake during a banquet.
That was all it took for rumors to spread across kingdoms.
"When that time comes…" Ett murmured, "What will the Duke of Garth choose?"
Would he continue pretending neutrality? Or would he immediately sever ties to preserve his household?
Politics was never built upon loyalty.
Only advantage.
Only survival.
"Question."
Gammarad lifted his gaze toward her.
"How old are you, Commander?"
The abrupt shift of topic slightly caught him off guard, though his expression barely changed.
"This servant has lived forty-two years, Your Grace."
"Forty-two…"
"When did you first enter the war?"
"At seven."
"…."
Seven.
When Ett was seven, she was still crying over broken Lego and unfinished homework.
Meanwhile, this man had already entered battlefields.
What kind of cursed dark fantasy setting was this?
Her thoughts nearly wandered further before she dragged herself back mentally.
Focus.
Please focus.
Her brain truly enjoyed embarrassing her during serious conversations.
"And when did you first see me?"
"The moment this servant entered the Palace, Your Grace."
"And the Duke of Garth?"
He has also seen Your Grace."
"I see…"
That had been before her existence was completely concealed from the public eye. During those years, the palace still held select celebrations attended only by nobles trusted by the imperial household.
"He attended those gatherings?"
"Yes."
Ett folded her arms quietly.
"That makes things troublesome."
Yet useful at the same time.
"If I retain his son while he hears rumors that I still live," Ett said slowly, "then the Duke cannot fully distinguish truth from falsehood."
After all, who would believe it?
A Queen Dowager returning as a child?
Absurd.
Most would sooner believe she was merely another hidden princess related to Guren than accept such madness.
And Veralis, judging by his personality, had likely described her honestly and in great detail to his father.
The Duke of Garth was probably suspicious already.
Curious.
Restless.
Perhaps even considering whether to visit the palace personally one day to confirm what kind of existence she truly was.
Sadly for him, that would not happen anytime soon.
Uncertainty was more dangerous than enemies.
Because an enemy standing before you could at least be killed.
Uncertainty could not.
"That is acceptable," Ett murmured.
Veralis is still within his grasp.
And more importantly, the cure.
No matter how battle-driven the Garth family was rumored to be, they were not fools. They would move carefully while uncertainty remained.
"Should we interfere beforehand?"
Gammarad asked.
Ett shook his head.
"The Patriarch will not act recklessly yet."
There was still time.
For now.
However, "The imperial spies division remains painfully slow."
A faint irritation crossed her expression.
"There are too many blind spots."
Too many unresolved matters.
Too many missing details.
She disliked moving without information.
Though Cashim would eventually prove useful once he fully secures the territories under his influence, that would still take time.
"My apologies, Your Grace."
"It is not solely your fault."
Truthfully, part of the issue came from her own frustrations. She kept trying to apply modern ideas to an empire still operating under medieval structures.
Some things worked.
Others became troublesome.
Ett lowered her gaze toward Gammarad's proposals once more.
Honestly…
His work was unexpectedly impressive.
Military distribution.
Communication systems.
Knight specialization.
Rotational formation.
With only a few fragmented concepts she had mentioned before, he had already created structures frighteningly close to modern military organization.
Very fitting.
Something you could expect from Gammarad's household, which is one of the Great Knight Families.
"You've done well," Ett said, lightly tapping the papers against the table. "I shall read these later."
Gammarad bowed his head in acknowledgment.
"We shall continue observing Ostenia closely."
A villain has to watch his fellow villain. Isn't that right?
Cough.
"Tch. Water, please."
Her throat felt painfully dry these days.
Without delay, Gammarad poured tea into a nearby cup and handed it toward her.
"Your Grace."
"Mm."
Ett took a slow sip before returning her attention to the map once more.
Her fingers moved toward a marked region near the western trade routes.
"Akan's here."
The current location.
"The Iron Bridge," Gammarad replied.
"Yes."
Ett narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Once this is finished, neighboring kingdoms will inevitably gather around this territory."
Trade routes would expand.
Travel time would shorten.
Merchants would flock here.
And where wealth gathered, foreign eyes followed.
"The nations shall admire Your Grace's foresight," Gammarad said respectfully.
"Admire?"
Ett gave a quiet snort.
"There will be spies, sabotage attempts, political interference, before admiration even begins."
Human greed remained predictable across eras.
People only praised things they failed to steal.
"You shall assist Akan if matters become severe."
"I obey, Your Grace."
Ett leaned back slightly afterward.
Truthfully, Akan had not written back properly for quite some time.
Something was happening.
And he was deliberately withholding details.
Ett wanted to go personally.
Secretly, as always.
Yet simply imagining the journey already exhausted her.
Three days toward the Ostenian territory.
One day, inside a carriage, she nearly destroyed her spine.
What unreasonable punishment was this for a villainess?
"….Annoying."
Remaining still while others moved around her was somehow even worse.
Bam!
The study doors suddenly burst open.
"What in—"
Her heart violently jumped.
"I am here!"
Who was it?
Razim?
Rakel?
Ah.
Ralis.
No, Veralis.
Veralis Garth.
Finally. Yet what is this intro?
"How utterly disrespectful."
Gammarad moved forward, sword partially unsheathed.
"Wait, wait!" Ares hurriedly stepped between them while dragging Veralis backward. "My apologies, I have failed to instruct the Young Master Veralis properly."
Then he bowed quickly.
"Greetings, Mistress. Please forgive me for this sudden intrusion. Young Master seems to be quite eager to see you that he forgot his manners."
"A noble ought to know when to knock, how to enter, and when to speak," Gammarad said coldly, looking at Veralis. "Don't be too soft with him, Ares."
His gaze sharpened.
"Ignoble."
Confronted by the overwhelming pressure from the Commander, Veralis visibly stiffened. Despite his upbringing, despite his family background, despite his confidence, standing before Gammarad was like standing before a drawn blade.
"I…I—"
"Enough."
Ett waved a hand lazily.
Then looked toward Veralis.
"…Let him enter."
Ares immediately sighed in relief.
"Thank you for your magnanimity, Your Grace."
"Bring tea, and dessert as well."
"Yes, Mistress."
Moments later, Veralis finally entered properly and took a seat after Ett gestured toward the settee.
Meanwhile, Gammrad remained standing nearby like an unmoving pillar.
"Have you calmed down now?"
Ett asked.
"I'm…yes."
"Good."
"Then," Veralis began, "as Your Highness' so-called dog, what must I do first?"
Direct.
Good.
Benefits first.
Pride later.
"How fares the Duke?"
"He remains well, Your Highness."
"You fled rather quickly after our previous meeting."
"That was because I wished our agreement to proceed swiftly."
"I see."
Ett rested her chin lightly against her hand.
"Did you meet the Emperor before departing that day?"
"The Emperor?"
Veralis shook his head. "No, it was Sire Xiwen who appeared before us and assisted in retrieving our comrades' bodies."
Ett's fingers paused slightly.
That's very interesting.
That meant another route existed.
Another hidden passage.
In the original novel, there should have been no escape once the gates closed.
And if those bodies had vanished successfully, the original chain of events would never have occurred.
No confirmed deaths.
No revenge plot.
No proper beginning for the male lead's hatred.
The people meant to die had survived.
Did she accidentally ruin the original story?
"And if retrieval had failed?" Ett asked calmly.
"We intended to burn the bodies."
"…Burn then?"
"And place blame upon the Imperial Faction."
Ett blinked.
Wait.
"What faction did those nobles belong to originally?"
"The Imperial Faction."
"And you intended to blame the Imperial Faction for killing its own members?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Were you ordered by the Noble Faction?"
"No, it…it was someone else that ordered us. We know not of the identity."
Hold on.
Then that meant—
Their neutrality only shifted afterward.
It was Veralis' movement on his own accord—the job he was ordered to do.
"You shouldn't play with these kinds of games if you are a noble, much less someone with your standing."
"Well, I won't be anymore. Unless it's Your Highness' order."
Ett could only snort.
Good thing, he was alive.
Now, she'll have to find the culprit who ordered that.
Man, another one to add to the list.
"Eat first."
Let's discuss a bit later.
"Thank you."
Veralis accepted politely.
Seeing he was not particularly picky, Ett returned briefly to reviewing Gammarad's reports.
These still require revision.
Modern concepts cannot simply be forced into this era carelessly.
Thankfully, Gammarad was capable enough to adjust whatever became unsuitable for the empire.
Akan was still far away.
For now, this would suffice.
For some time, the chamber was quiet.
"Veralis Garth."
Ett started, putting down the papers she was reading.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Pour me some tea."
Confused, Veralis obeyed.
"Here."
Ett accepted the cup, took one sip, then set it aside untouched.
Her gaze lifted toward him.
"Do you enjoy these desserts?"
"…Out of etiquette."
There was no point in lying. He preferred bread and pudding to decorative sweets.
"What do you like?"
"Pudding."
"Hm."
Ett lightly tapped the untouched desserts with her fingertip.
"Then why eat these?"
Veralis paused.
"…Because refusing what is served may offend the host."
"Exactly."
A faint spark appeared within Ett's tired eyes.
"You may stand before me now, swear loyalty, offer obedience, yet none of that guarantees your household shares your intention."
Veralis slowly stilled.
"Tell me, Veralis," Ett continued calmly, "if your favorite pudding were placed before you," she paused, catching her breath, " would you abandon it merely because another dessert had already been served first?"
"No."
"Even if noble etiquette demanded it?"
"…No."
"Good."
Ett lifted the teacup he had poured earlier.
"Then understand this."
Tap.
"The tea you poured has already grown cold."
Veralis eyes shifted toward the cup.
"Cold tea is still drinkable," Ett said quietly, "but some truly choose it willingly once warmth has faded."
Silence filled the room.
"You are useful to me because possibilities placed you before me first."
Tap.
"Not because trust already exists."
The words stuck far deeper this time.
The tea was not merely for him.
It represented timing.
Position.
Conditional usefulness.
If another, warmer cup appeared—would she still choose him?
Veralis finally understood.
"And just as you hesitate to trust me completely," Ett continued, "I also cannot place blind trust in the Garth household."'
Her gaze moved toward the untouched desserts.
"So before consuming what is offered…"
She looked back at him. "One must first determine whether the sweetness hides poison."
The room fell silent.
Even Gammarad glanced toward her briefly.
Veralis lowered his gaze slowly.
This time, genuine unease settled within him.
Excellent.
Far easier to negotiate with now.
"I say this, also for the entirety of all noble households."
Ett added.
"You are familiar with Akan, are you not?"
Veralis nodded.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Originally, he believed Akan merely served as the Emperor's right hand.
Now—
"To become my true dog, prepare a few of your belongings."
Veralis blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
Beside them, even Gammarad finally spoke.
"Is this not too sudden, Your Grace?"
"For him? No."
Then she pointed toward the marked territory upon the wall.
"Have a visit to this duchy."
Ostenian Duchy.
"Your Highness…"
He felt he required significantly more explanation than that.