Chapter 260: The Stubborn Princess

THUD.

A stack of massive, leather-bound files slammed onto the table of the princess’s private suite.

"This is the entire, unredacted registry ledger from Rujgard’s main gates," Seraphina announced, pushing the heavy books across the table toward Cinon. "Every single living soul who walks through those iron arches gets documented by the gatekeepers, even if it were the Emperor himself."

The giant, bald knight leaned forward, opening the brittle pages.

"I’ll have our cryptographers cross-reference the merchant aliases," Cinon muttered, his deep voice echoing softly in the quiet suite. "I can shortlist every noble who visited the territory over the past year and pinpoint exactly which members of the Second Queen’s faction have been funneling their dirty money."

Cinon paused, tracing a ink stain on the ledger’s spine. He looked up at the princess. "Did Young Lord Volsver acquire these?"

Seraphina let out a long, aristocratic sigh, massaging her temples. "He stole them straight out of the municipal administrative vault during the commotion after his negotiation. The idiot actually managed to rob the underworld blind."

She shook her head, though the faint, undeniable curve of a proud smirk touched her lips.

"Take Baron Kiliyan tonight," Seraphina ordered, her tone shifting back into command. "Move him to the southern safehouse under complete blackout protocols. No one outside this room can know he’s in our custody. As for the rest of us... tomorrow morning, we burn the disguises. We spend the next few days taking scenic detours, buying souvenirs, and leaving a very loud, very public paper trail of a relaxing group vacation."

Cinon gave a firm, singular nod. He carefully closed the ledger and folded his massive hands on the table but remained uncharacteristically silent, his brow furrowed in heavy thought.

Seraphina watched him for a moment. Reaching for the porcelain teapot, she poured a steaming cup of chamomile and slid it across the table toward him.

"Spill it, Cinon," she murmured. "What are you thinking?"

Cinon accepted the cup. "Your Highness... why hide our involvement? If we strategically leaked that it was your faction—that your people wiped out the three sovereign Lords of Rujgard in a single morning—the political prestige would be staggering. It would instantly legitimize your power in the capital and terrify the Second Queen’s supporters."

Seraphina let out a chuckle, lifting her own teacup to her lips.

She leaned back into the velvet armchair, gracefully crossing her legs, her blood-red eyes gleaming with cold, terrifying political brilliance.

"Half the nobles in the imperial court use Rujgard to launder their stolen gold, buy illegal things, and dispose of inconvenient heirs," Seraphina said smoothly. "If I announce that Eren and the Saintess walked into that cesspool and slaughtered the management, the High Council won’t praise them, Cinon. They will hunt them down. And we have the syndicate waiting for our identities.

She took a slow sip of her tea.

"In a few weeks, my foolish father and the Valdora Kingdom will realize the Rujgard leadership is dead. They’ll march their legions in, burn the city to the ground, and erase it from the map. The Emperor will throw himself a grand parade, bathing in the glory of ending a centuries-old criminal sanctuary."

Her crimson eyes narrowed in cunning.

"Let him have his hollow praises," Seraphina purred, swirling the tea in her cup. "We won’t claim the political credit. Instead, we’ll use our information guild to plant rumors. We will create a legend in the underworld. A ghost story about a guy and his terrifying partner who butchered three sovereign lords in broad daylight."

"We build the myth now, Cinon. And when the time comes... we’ll weaponize that."

"Understood, Your Highness," Cinon rumbled, carefully gathering the stack of Rujgard’s ledgers.

He stood up to leave. But as he turned toward the door, the giant shield-bearer paused, his boots rooted to the carpet.

Seraphina paused mid-sip of her tea, arching a brow. "What is it now, Cinon? Did you forget how doors operate?"

"Your Highness," Cinon began, his deep voice softening into something profoundly earnest. "I have been a loyal supporter of your faction since the day you were born."

"It is your mother’s bloodline that rightfully commands the loyalty of the imperial knights, not that clown currently sitting on the throne. I’ve watched you grow up. I know exactly how much you despise the men because of the Emperor’s sins. But... you have never spoken ill of the men who bleed to keep you safe."

"Get to the point, Cinon."

"That Volsver boy," Cinon stated plainly, meeting his princess’s gaze without flinching. "He is the greatest asset this faction has acquired since its formation. If he hadn’t sided with us, we have no idea what would have happened to the Empress’s tea or to your future in the capital. He threw himself into a lawless country to acquire us a lead."

Cinon bowed his head slightly.

"Please don’t lose him, Your Highness. Whatever it takes to keep him close... do it. He might be the only way you ever take that throne back."

Seraphina stared at the giant knight. She pressed her palm hard against her temple, letting out a long sigh.

"If I ever require unsolicited counsel from a six-foot-eight wall of muscle, I will be sure to ask," Seraphina muttered, waving him off with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "Just go, Cinon. And for the love of the gods, do not mention a single word of his ridiculous, multi-partner domestic situation to the public."

Cinon offered a knowing, respectful bow. "My lips are sealed, Your Highness."

With the soft click of the latch, the door closed, leaving the princess entirely alone in the quiet, candlelit suite.

Seraphina slumped back against the velvet cushions of her armchair, staring up at the gilded ceiling. The silence of the room was deafening, leaving her alone with the echoing memory of piercing blue eyes and a smile.

"Absolute idiot," Seraphina muttered to the empty room, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

She desperately tried to build a fortress of logic to keep him out of her head.

’I don’t want to think about him,’ she reasoned fiercely with her own traitorous pulse.

She tried to convince herself that Eren Volsver was nothing more than a useful pawn. But beneath the logic, her heart stubbornly

***

Meanwhile, in the adjacent master suite, the world was quiet and warm.

Eren’s eyelashes fluttered, parting slowly as he woke from a deep exhaustion. A suffocating blanket of body heat draped across his torso.

He slowly turned his head.

To his right, Emma was wearing a pair of loose cotton shorts and a tank top. She was dead to the world, one muscular leg thrown entirely over his waist, holding his arm pinned to her chest like a teddy bear.

To his left, Norelia was curled up against his flank. The petite professor had changed into a dangerously revealing, thin silk sleeping gown that left very little to the imagination.

But as his blue eyes scanned the massive mattress, he realized the third pillar of his chaotic domestic life was missing. His beautiful, blue-haired villainess fiancée was nowhere to be found.