Chapter 184: Weakness

The Imperial Capital was, by all objective metrics, the mother of all playgrounds.

It was a glittering, gold-leaf-covered sandbox filled with the wealthiest, most powerful, and most exceptionally treacherous toddlers in the known world. The high nobility of the Empire didn’t fight with broadswords or glacial magic.

They fought with poisoned tea, whispered rumors, forged ledgers, blackmail, and smiles sharp enough to qualify as concealed weapons.

Seraphina von Nacht stood on the balcony of her enormous second-floor suite in the Capital Estate, staring out over the glittering skyline.

Her little hands rested on the marble balustrade.

Her dark eyes narrowed.

Her six-year-old brain had recently discovered a terrible truth.

The adults were idiots.

Not all adults, obviously.

Papa Duke was terrifying.

Sebastian was terrifying in a different way.

The Vanguard uncles were mostly terrifying, although Sir Gally was also apparently a professional pastry smuggler.

But the nobles?

They were extremely suspicious toddlers wearing expensive clothes.

Seraphina had been in the Capital for barely a day, yet she could already feel the invisible web of attention tightening around the Nacht Estate. Everyone wanted to know about the mysterious adopted daughter of the Archduke.

Everyone wanted to know why Kaelus had suddenly brought a six-year-old orphan into his household, whether she had inherited anything from him. And, most importantly, everyone wanted to know whether she could be used against him.

Seraphina’s tiny fingers tightened around the railing.

’They’re plotting against a kindergarten-aged child.’

She blinked.

’That’s actually super embarrassing for them.’

Her adult instincts understood the situation perfectly.

The nobles didn’t see a child.

They saw a potential hostage.

A bargaining chip.

A weakness.

A political marriage prospect twenty years too early.

A way to control the terrifying Archduke of the North.

Seraphina’s expression slowly became very serious.

Then her cheeks puffed up.

’Rude.’

She was not a helpless little pawn. She was the Sovereign of the North!

She possessed a Supreme Dark Core capable of turning demons into magical smoothie ingredients.

And she had something even more dangerous.

An adult intellect trapped inside a six-year-old’s body.

Granted, said intellect had recently become distracted and kidnapped by raspberry tarts, ghost puppies, and the discovery that polished marble floors made excellent sliding tracks.

But it was still there.

’If they want to play spy games...’

A tiny, wicked smile appeared on her face.

’Then I’ll play spy games.’

She had no intention of confronting the entire Imperial political machine directly.

That would be stupid.

No.

She needed information.

Lots of information.

Quietly and secretly.

Without anyone knowing.

First, she needed to know who was watching the Nacht Estate.

Who was sending reports, bribing servants, who was talking to whom.

And most importantly... Who was lying.

Seraphina’s smile widened.

’Time to build a surveillance system.’

She paused.

’A really cute surveillance system.’

’From today, I’ll become the duck mastermind!’

Because apparently evil masterminds were allowed to have branding.

***

The sun eventually sank beneath the horizon, painting the Imperial Capital in bruised purples and molten gold.

Then came the messenger.

A tired-looking man wearing the Imperial Crest arrived at the wrought-iron gates of the Nacht Estate.

His message was short, and extremely annoying.

Duke Kaelus von Nacht would not be returning for dinner.

In fact, he would not be returning at all that night.

The Emperor had trapped him inside an endless joint-committee session concerning provincial taxation. The committee had apparently been discussing the same three paragraphs for six hours.

Seraphina considered this.

’That’s not politics.’

’That’s torture.’

Back inside the estate, Lady Genevieve received the news with considerably more enthusiasm.

The terrifying Archduke was gone. The Head Butler was guarding the child. And the little Sovereign was, presumably, just a child.

It was the perfect opportunity.

Genevieve prepared a silver tray.

On it sat a delicate porcelain cup filled with warm, honeyed milk. A small amount of magical sedative had been added.

Nothing dangerous. Just enough to make a child sleepy and suggestible.

Genevieve smiled at her reflection in the silver tray.

"Tonight," she whispered, "we shall have a little conversation, Lady Seraphina."

She adjusted her blonde curls.

Applied another layer of lavender perfume.

And headed upstairs.

She reached the doors of Seraphina’s suite.

Her fingers had barely touched the handle when—

CLACK.

A massive leather-gloved hand closed around the edge of her silver tray.

Genevieve froze.

Slowly, she looked upward.

Sebastian stood beside her.

He had apparently materialized from the darkness itself. His single pale-blue eye stared down at her.

There was no warmth in it.

No amusement.

Nothing.

Just the quiet, horrifying expression of a man who had once personally introduced several assassins to the concept of gravity.

"Where," Sebastian asked softly, "do you believe you are going?"

Genevieve swallowed.

"O-Oh! Mr. Sebastian!"

She attempted a nervous laugh.

"I was merely bringing the little Lady her bedtime milk. It is my duty as Head Maid to ensure she is comfortable, especially while His Grace is detained at the Palace."

"Your duties," Sebastian replied, "are confined to the ground floor."

"But surely—"

"The Sovereign’s food is prepared and inspected by the Vanguard."

Genevieve smiled stiffly.

"It is merely milk."

Sebastian stared at her.

Genevieve stared back.

Neither moved.

The silence became deeply uncomfortable.

Finally, Sebastian spoke.

"Give me the tray."

Genevieve tightened her grip.

"I don’t think that is necessary."

Sebastian’s eyebrow rose.

"Give me the tray."

She reluctantly released it.

Sebastian took the silver tray.

Then he glanced at the cup.

Then at Genevieve.

Then back at the cup.

His single eye narrowed.

"You added something."

Genevieve’s face went pale.

"I—"

Sebastian calmly lifted the cup.

He smelled it.

His expression became even colder.

"Sleeping draught."

"I can explain!"

"No need."

Sebastian poured the entire cup into the nearest decorative flowerpot.

The flowers immediately drooped.

Genevieve stared.

Sebastian stared at the flowers.

"...That was expensive."

He handed the empty tray back to her.

"Return to your quarters."

"But—"

"If you approach the Sovereign’s room again tonight, I will personally escort you downstairs."