The heavy mahogany doors of the Council Hall slowly closed behind them, completely sealing off the outdoor chill mixed with the scent of snow and mugwort smoke.
Inside the room, the fireplace was roaring. The crackling sound of burning pine wood seemed exceptionally clear in the quiet space.
Sophia sat at the head seat. She hadn't yet taken off that black fox fur, and a few crystalline beads of snow still hung on its edges.
Daphne, Irene, Delilah, Willow, and Victor took their seats in order. Vasha, however, stood at the end of the long table. That handkerchief printed with a Black Rose was clutched tightly in her palm, her fingertips turning slightly pale from the force.
"That bottle of stuff has already been sent to the West Tower."
Sophia was the first to break the silence. Her voice was as steady as a deep pool of water.
"If nothing unexpected happens, it's a deeply processed virus concentrate from Orr. If even a few drops were added to the drinking water or meals, all our efforts over the past two days would have been completely reduced to nothing."
Delilah slammed her hand onto the table, her armor grating with a harsh sound.
"Despicable! That old fox, the King of Orr, actually resorted to such deadly measures against his former subjects? Among those infected people, there are quite a few who fled from Orr as refugees!"
The gazes of everyone present coincidentally shifted toward Vasha.
In those gazes, there was anger, there was doubt, but mostly, there was a certain indescribable sense of complexity.
Irene bit her lip, twirling a pencil in her hand, and muttered in a low voice:
"Vasha, that throat-locking move of yours just now was pretty ruthless. Do all the Princesses of Orr learn this?"
Sophia ignored everyone's discussions. She slightly raised her eyes, her pale golden pupils staring directly at Vasha.
"Vasha."
Sophia's voice remained clear and cold.
"You could have pretended not to see it, or quietly let him go. As a Princess of Orr, personally breaking your motherland's shadow is considered a betrayal in any diplomatic rhetoric. Tell This Queen, what do you want? Or rather, what are you scheming for in Mason?"
Vasha knelt on one knee, yet her back was completely straight.
She raised her head. There were still uncleaned mud spots remaining on her face, but those eyes were brighter than ever before.
"Your Majesty, in Orr, I was never treated as a human being."
Vasha's voice was somewhat hoarse, yet every word came from the bottom of her heart.
"I was a bargaining chip on Royal Father's gambling table, a tool for marriage alliances, a sacrifice for the country to exchange for grain and raw iron. Over there, I wore the most magnificent silks, but my heart was withered and dead. Because I knew that as long as Royal Father needed it, he could push me into any abyss at any time."
She smiled self-deprecatingly and looked at her pair of hands, which had been worn down to red marks:
"But during this time in Mason, I carry heavy wooden boxes every day. My palms are scraped raw, my dress gets dirty, and I'm so tired that even my fingertips tremble. But every time I see the grateful looks in those subjects' eyes when they receive masks, and see Order gradually growing out of this originally barren land, I realize that I am actually alive.
"In Mason, I am not Princess Vasha; I am just myself. I can survive relying on my own two hands. This kind of dignity is a thousand times heavier than that cold throne in Orr.
"Your Majesty, I cannot allow anyone to destroy this place that helped me regain my dignity, even if that person is my biological father."
The Council Hall fell into a long silence.
Willow's eye sockets were slightly red. Being someone from the bottom of society, she could best understand this pain of being treated as a tool. She quietly walked forward and handed Vasha a cup of piping hot black tea.
Delilah's taut shoulders also relaxed. She coldly snorted and said nothing. She had been the same in her past life—risking her life for her country, only to end up with a miserable outcome.
Victor stood behind Sophia, crying old tears as he frantically took notes in his notebook. Due to excessive excitement, the pen tip even carved heavy marks into the paper.
What astonishing power of persuasion! This is Your Majesty's civilization magnetic field!
She didn't need to use benefits to tempt, nor did she need to use military force to threaten. She merely implemented the most basic norms of civilization, yet it made an enemy country's princess completely turn over a new leaf, even to the point of not hesitating to break ties with her motherland. This supreme state of attacking the mind is Your Majesty's true terrifying aspect.
Where was Your Majesty keeping Vasha around as a mere vase? This was planting a seed of rebellion right inside the heart of the Kingdom of Orr. In the future, this seed will definitely bloom into a Black Rose that destroys Orr!
Sophia took a sip of tea, suppressing that sense of absurdity in her heart.
To be honest, she hadn't demanded too much of Vasha, forcing her to do anything in particular. Most of the things were done on her own initiative, and Sophia simply hadn't stopped her. She never expected that Vasha would actually comprehend the logic that self-reliance is the most glorious thing.
Sophia set down the bone china teacup in her hand, the bottom of the cup emitting a soft clink as it collided with the saucer. She looked at Vasha kneeling below, her gaze still indifferent, as if discussing a government matter completely unrelated to life and death.
"Vasha, This Queen will ask you one last time."
Sophia's voice was clear and cold, echoing within the spacious Council Hall.
"By breaking Orr's shadow today, you have effectively burned the bridge back with your own hands. From now on, you are no longer a Princess of Orr, and you might even become a traitor on that land whom everyone has the right to execute. Have you truly thought these consequences through?"
Vasha took a deep breath. Due to excessive tension, her finger joints were a pale bluish-white, but her voice was exceptionally firm:
"Replying to Your Majesty, I would rather be a self-reliant wild grass in Mason's mud than return to Orr's cage to be a canary. As for the consequences, I, Vasha, will shoulder them all alone and will absolutely not regret it."
Sophia fell silent for a moment.
This girl has indeed had her heart completely broken by that Old King father in Orr. Since she wants to be self-reliant so much, then This Queen's development game just so happens to be short on labor. Picking up a princess-level worker for free, This Queen is making a massive profit on this wave.
"Since that is the case."
Sophia stood up, her black fox fur tracing an elegant arc.
"Mason always welcomes those who can survive relying on their own two hands. Victor, arrange a decent place for her to stay."
Vasha had previously been staying in the Palace's guest room, and there was hardly anything furnished inside. Because everyone felt that this Princess of Orr would leave before long.
In that instant, tears burst from Vasha's eyes. She prostrated herself on the ground, her shoulders trembling violently. That wasn't sadness, but rather a collapse after the fear and grievances accumulated over a dozen years were completely released at this moment.
She finally realized that she wasn't just being used, but was truly and genuinely being accepted by a civilization, by a King.
"Alright, since your loyalty has been confirmed, then stop shedding tears here."
Sophia waved her hand.
"Irene, your mask production still needs to be increased. Delilah, keep an eye on those caught rats; don't let them die too quickly. Willow, help Daphne share the burden of material processing."
"Complying with the decree!!"
Everyone replied in unison, their voices several degrees louder than before.
The doors of the Council Hall opened once again. The crowd filed out, like precision machines re-embedding themselves into the grand gears named Mason.
On the top floor of the West Tower, motes of Holy Light still danced in the air.
Daphne squeezed a large jar of fresh wild berries into juice. These wild berries were rich in vitamins and were extremely beneficial for boosting immunity. After using a little Holy Light to purify the impurities, she carried a small cup of bright red juice and knocked on the door of Sophia's room.
"Your Majesty, this is wild berry juice to strengthen the constitution. You have been busy for so long, please drink a little."
Daphne smiled somewhat weakly, her eyes carrying unconcealable exhaustion.
When Sophia took the cup, her fingers inadvertently touched Daphne's slightly cool palm.
Sophia didn't pay it any mind, merely giving a faint nod. "You've worked hard. Hurry back and rest."
However, when Daphne returned to her experiment table and prepared to begin a new round of Potion infusion, a mutation occurred.
Daphne raised her hand as usual, preparing to chant the spell. The Holy Light that originally required strenuous effort to guide unexpectedly gushed out like a bursting flood at this moment. Moreover, it was exceptionally gentle, completely lacking the usual sluggish feeling that came after overdrawing herself.
That bottle of Potion, which originally presented a ruby-red color, actually erupted with dazzling golden light the moment Daphne's fingertip tapped it. The liquid became crystal clear, as if it had condensed an entire starry sky.
"What... what is going on?"
Daphne stared blankly at her own hands.
The quality of this batch of Potion had actually increased by more than three times compared to just now, and she felt that her magic power recovery speed was astonishingly fast.
Daphne's breathing grew rapid as she carefully recalled all the details from just now. The materials hadn't changed, the spell hadn't changed; the only variable was...
"Could it be because I touched Your Majesty's hand just now? In that short instant, I felt a majestic, ancient, and indescribably heavy energy transmit over. Is Your Majesty not a mortal? Is she the source of some kind of energy, or is she herself the incarnation of this world's will?"
"I previously felt that making a single portion of Potion was very tiring, but now... just from making contact for a moment, I feel like I can stay up for another three consecutive nights! This is too absurd, but the truth is right before my eyes!"
Daphne looked at herself in the mirror. Her originally pale face was surprisingly rosy at this moment. She gritted her teeth and turned her head to look at that mountain-like pile of medicinal herbs, unprecedented fanaticism burning in her eyes.
"If Your Majesty truly is a Divine Miracle herself, then Mason has really won for sure!"
Inside the Council Hall, Victor rubbed his already somewhat red wrist. Spread out before him was a piece of specially supplied letter paper with a dark Black Rose pattern.
He looked up at Sophia, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge and a certain hidden expectation. "Your Majesty, should we reply to the King of Orr a bit more 'politely'?"
Sophia leaned against the back of her chair, her fingertips rhythmically tapping the tabletop. She thought of the phrase 'little silver fox' from the letter, and a cruel and playful arc curled up at the corner of her mouth.
"Polite? Victor, do you have some kind of misunderstanding regarding that old thing? For this kind of rat who would even use his own daughter as a bargaining chip and only knows how to hide behind the scenes and poison people, the best return gift isn't a knife, but making him realize just how comical he truly is in This Queen's eyes.
"Come, write exactly as This Queen dictates."
Victor took a deep breath, his pen flying across the paper. With every word Sophia spoke, his heartbeat sped up by a fraction. Moreover, Your Majesty was even willing to let him add some embellishments, which he was more than happy to do.
[Reply to the Kingdom of Orr]
Dear His Majesty the King of Orr:
Greetings upon opening this letter.
Given that the person you sent over a few days ago was truly lacking in professionalism—not only performing a clumsy poisoning magic trick in broad daylight, but even failing to spill that bottle of purple Potion, which is supposedly a royal secret treasure, into This Queen's pot—This Queen feels deeply regretful about this.
By the way, has the training level of Orr's shadow guards also drastically declined along with the shrinking of your National Treasury? That man was taken down by our side's cleaner, Miss Vasha, using just a wiping cloth and a stick of firewood.
Seeing your beloved daughter's neat and agile movements when dealing with a domestic thief, This Queen sincerely sighs with emotion that the Kingdom of Orr's most outstanding educational achievements seem to have all manifested in this moment of her forsaking darkness for light.
As for your demand for Saint Daphne, This Queen can only interpret it as you experiencing some unrealistic hallucinations under extreme panic.
Daphne is living a very fulfilling life in Mason. She has recently been busy treating those subjects who were accidentally infected by you, and doesn't even have a single spare second to recall that dank, mildew-filled cage in Orr.
Here with This Queen, she is a miracle of civilization; whereas over there with you, you seem to only treat her as a fig leaf.
Oh, right. Since you care so much about the epidemic, This Queen has specifically included with this letter a... picture of a mask produced in Mason. After all, every single mask must be used on human beings, rather than livestock.
Although it is drawn on paper, This Queen believes it suits you perfectly. Please take care of your health; after all, the price of coffin wood has risen quite a bit in Leighton recently. This Queen does not wish for you to go to any expense over such trivial matters.
—Your esteemed neighbor, who currently has no plans to trample Orr flat just yet, Sophia.
As Victor finished writing the last word, he only felt his entire body trembling. How was this a letter? This was simply pressing the King of Orr's self-esteem onto the Cement floor, rubbing it back and forth, and finally sprinkling a handful of pepper on it!
A divine skill! Your Majesty is simply a grandmaster at toying with people's hearts!
She deliberately brought up Miss Vasha to tell the King of Orr: 'Even your closest relatives are helping me kill your people.'
Her bringing up the masks and coffins is engaging in blatant armed intimidation and resource monopoly! Once this letter spreads, the prestige of the Kingdom of Orr will collapse in an instant. Neighboring countries will mock his incompetence, and his subjects will question his cruelty.
Your Majesty wasn't scolding him; Your Majesty was using words to strip away all of his legitimacy as a King! This slap to the face was more ruthless than the charge of ten thousand iron cavalry!
Looking at Victor's appearance of wishing he could frame the letter paper, Sophia speechlessly rolled her eyes internally.
She turned her head to look at Delilah. "Bundle this letter, along with that empty poison bottle Vasha confiscated, together. Have that captured spy carry these things on his back and scram back to Orr. If he dies on the way, then toss his corpse along with the letter into the Royal City of the Kingdom of Orr."
Delilah puffed out her chest and raised her head, her eyes flashing with a cold, piercing satisfaction. "Complying with the decree! This minister will definitely ensure that this gift is something the King of Orr will never forget for the rest of his life."
Sitting off to the side, Vasha listened to the contents of that letter. Especially when she heard the title 'cleaner', an unprecedented thrill swept through her entire body.
Vasha lowered her head, her gaze even firmer. She knew that after this letter was sent out, between her and Orr, there would truly only be life and death, and no longer any ties.
Sophia's gaze fell upon Vasha's face beside her, which was changing expressions one after another, and she couldn't help but sigh with emotion internally.
This child must have hit puberty.
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