I Don't Want To Do a Romantic Comedy With a Villain! - Chapter 121

Episode 121

A small, modest house prepared on the outskirts of the capital. 

It was a small residence prepared in anticipation of a possible rebellion by Nelsie. 

Compared to the ducal residences and royal palace, it was a humble and poor house, but it was sufficient to employ a servant and entertain guests. 

Nelsie wore commoner’s clothes but exuded noble bearing, and the modesty seen in her conduct was that of an empress herself. Nelsie put down the comb she was using on her hair and crossed her legs.

“Marquees, it is true that I have received your assistance, but the reason I feigned death was to help my son, not for your sake.”

The fire burning in the fireplace in the narrow room is bright. The red light seems to devour the two figures. Marquess Trimidri closed her eyes tightly to endure the boiling turmoil and exhaled.

Nelsie tilted her head as if watching a spectacle and looked at her. As if to say, ‘You can’t use me like that. If you want to try something, go ahead.’

Marquess Trimidri struggled to control her expression and spoke to Nelsie.

“I was the one to take advantage. It would be inconvenient if you touched my hand first, Your Majesty. You should give me a sign next time.”

A big laugh burst out. In the blatant ridicule, Marquess Trimidri could only frown.

Nelsie laughed, her brown hair cascading down as she leaned forward. It was a more relaxed and casual laughter than in the palace.

“That sounds as if you’re telling the Marquees to act with permission. Since when was I someone who needed your permission to act?”

“Your Majesty, I am the only one who knows you are alive. Shouldn’t you cooperate with me until our goal is achieved?”

Suddenly, Nelsie’s laughter stopped. The expression that disappeared like a broken machine was eerie, and Marquess Trimidri swallowed dryly.

Tension lingered. Marquess Trimidri’s lips trembled as she couldn’t predict Nelsie’s next reaction.

Nelsie, who had been staring at her as if warning her for a while, tilted her head with no expression, and her green eyes flickered.

“It sounds like you think you hold my life in your hands. Even if you find me amusing, there’s a limit, Marquees.”

“Your Majesty, that’s not what I…”

“Marquees. Am I asking for your cooperation to help my son? They are the ones opposing my son becoming emperor. As a mother, I must exterminate the vermin.”

Having stepped away from the position of empress, Nelsie jumped around like a madman. She had gathered mercenaries and compiled a list of nobles to gather information and handle. Among them were several nobles that Marquess Trimidri would handle. It was a determination to silence other nobles by making an example out of them.

Nelsie, with a nonchalant attitude as if nothing was wrong, blinked her eyes. Her green eyes still contained Marquess Trimidri. 

“If you’re going to threaten me with faking my own death, do you think I’m going to take it lying down when my son is the crown prince?”

Marquess Trimidri spat out a bewildered scoff. Then Nelsie smiled arrogantly.

That smile resembled Vehen’s, and she couldn’t fool herself. It made her think how dreadful the people in that household were.

“If things get tough, just run to my nephew and beg him to save me. DeVirté is my hometown, who would say anything against it? So, Marquess, it would be better if you didn’t behave arrogantly.”

Marquess Trimidri pondered ways to constrain Nelsie’s actions.

The woman in front of her frantically rolling her head was visible.

Nelsie interrupted her so that she couldn’t think anymore.

“You want reform, and I want my son to become emperor, so there’s no need to argue. The nobles will be very angry about this. We must catch the culprit and punish them loudly.”

Marquess Trimidri nodded. Nelsie picked up a pin next to the comb and arranged her hair.

“If you make the commoners the culprits…”

“But, Your Majesty, if we do that, innocent commoners will be oppressed. It will disrupt our plans.”

Nelsie frowned as she touched her loosely tied hair with her palm.

“What difference will it make if a countless number of ants disappear? Don’t vomit nonsense, just proceed.”

Nelsie stood up and picked up the shawl draped over the sofa.

Marquess Trimidri instinctively stepped back to maintain a distance. Nelsie smirked, raising one corner of her mouth.

“Oppress the commoners and use violence. Our Crown Prince is very weak, so it would be good to let him taste the power of authority. It will solidify his position as well. As long as our prince doesn’t become addicted to blood.”

“…I will assist you from the sidelines.”

“Of course, that’s how it should be.”

Nelsie gestured as if to indicate Marquess Trimidri should leave.

Marquess Trimidri swallowed the boiling turmoil from the unprofitable conversation and nodded.

In essence, Marquess Trimidri and Nelsie’s intentions aligned. With slight adjustments to the plan, Nelsie’s actions could become advantageous. However, she was uncontrollable. Nelsie was a wild card, acting like a mad calf.

Marquess Trimidri cautiously closed the door and stepped into the corridor.

The narrow, short corridor was bright enough with just one candle.

‘I need to separate Nelsie and Duke DeVirté. The Duke should never get too close to the Prince. Only the Duke can stop Nelsie and constrain her actions.’

The more he looked at Duke DeVirté, the more he resembled herself. The way he was indifferent to humans yet kept an eye on their accomplishments and the gaze that observed them like a superior being born above other races.

As if the gods mixed among humans, pretending to be human. She thought he resembled herself in that aspect.

‘A little bit of force creates good tension.’

Her own words to Vehen. So Nelsie’s orders weren’t of a vastly different kind. 

But the slight was in being commanded by Nelsie, whom she had underestimated and treated with disdain. Her pride was wounded, and she was angry. She should be the one playing the game in her hands, yet she kept crawling in. 

‘I need to observe every situation and moderate the game. This is what I’ve longed for. I can’t afford to fail.’

Therefore, she must not. If necessary, she must replace the Emperor. 

Let’s proceed with many possibilities in mind. 

Marquess Trimidri resolved to meet with Duke DeVirté again and left the narrow house.

* * *

Thunk, the desk shook. 

The stacks of documents piled high shook mercilessly and tumbled to the floor. His breath was labored, and he felt congested.

“Your Highness, please calm down.” 

A barely audible voice said.

Ceteran looked up, his face flushed with anger.

“…Can you find calmness now?”

His ragged voice, rough and mixed with breaths, was messy.

Ceteran gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.

A servant who had been hiding in the back to clear up the mess of scattered documents hesitated, but Marquess Trimidri raised her hand to stop him.

Calm and composed, Marquess Trimidri took a step forward.

“What reason is there not to find it? Your Highness, losing your composure makes rational judgment difficult.”

“…Do you think I don’t know even that?”

Ceteran took a deep breath and collapsed onto the desk. His clenched fist trembled.

“I knew they wouldn’t support me in the conservative faction, but to oppose even the coronation ceremony? It’s too much.”

“Are you implying I’m opposing it?”

At Marquess Trimidri’s blunt response, Ceteran raised his head, and his red eyes flickered angrily.

“I heard there was a murder case involving a noble. We need to resolve this smoothly and gain the support of the conservative faction nobles.”

A case where a conservative faction noble was the victim. If this were neatly resolved and comforted, there might be some expectation of support from the conservative faction nobles.

Ceteran gripped the desk and closed his eyes tightly.

With every breath, his head throbbed, and his breath echoed loudly as if his mind was vibrating.

The coronation ceremony was postponed.

Excuses such as the Emperor, the recent death of the Empress, the recent abdication of the Crown Prince, and the ongoing chaos in the country.

Furthermore, today, a noble had died, and it had been postponed due to the excuse of being unsettled.

It had been quite some time since he became the Crown Prince, and it would soon be the New Year, so the sooner the coronation, the better.

There was a strong perception that a Crown Prince who hadn’t held a coronation was not recognized, and there was still room for him to be replaced by someone else at any time.

“Shouldn’t we resolve the coronation ceremony first, Your Highness?”

“No matter what I do, it gets postponed. I see gaining their support as a priority. Marquees.”

Marquess Trimidri realized anew what Nelsie meant by the Crown Prince’s weakness.

A willingness to take advantage of a person’s death, rather than using it against them.

It could be seen as the essence of a saint, but if viewed only as a ruler, it would seem very mild and almost ridiculous.

Marquess Trimidri recalled Nelsie’s orders and nodded.

“There’s a rumor in the court that this incident is your doing, Your Highness.”

“…What did you say? Me?”

“Yes, many are gossiping that you instigated the incident to show an example.”

Ceteran felt despondent. It was frustrating to know that despite his best efforts, no one believed in him or supported him. 

Was he seen as someone who could easily decide to kill someone? Despite trying to do well and resolve things in the right direction, he received neither trust nor help. Was it because he didn’t have a mother? Should his brother have become the Emperor instead? Was he sitting in a position that was too burdensome?

Ceteran grasped his head.

“So I suggest that Your Highness take advantage of this situation.”

“…Yes?”

Marquess Trimidri stooped down to pick up the scattered documents one by one, and Ceteran also followed suit, bending down and picking up the papers.

Then Marquess Trimidri looked up and stared at Ceteran, who was sitting next to her.

Seeing his stern face, Ceteran shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“The Crown Prince doesn’t stoop. Even if I pick up the documents, Your Highness, you still stand tall and look down at me.”

“…But it’s something I can do.”

“Your Highness.”

The woman’s brown eyes were noble but temperamental, and her aged face reminded him of his mother.

Ceteran rose gracefully from his seat and stood by the chair.

Marquess Trimidri picked up about half of the scattered documents from the floor and placed them on the desk.

“What Your Highness should be doing is not picking up documents but figuring out how to turn this misunderstood situation to your advantage.”

Ceteran hesitated and turned his gaze away. The office, adorned with gold, seemed blinding.

How to turn it to his advantage.

How to make the false accusation that he committed murder advantageous…

Ceteran looked at Marquess Trimidri with a horrified expression.

“Now… Are you suggesting that I should wield tyranny under the pretext that the incident was caused by me?”

“Yes. Sometimes, a sharp reprimand is necessary if one does not listen.”

Marquess Trimidri continued to wear the same emotionless smile and crushed the remaining papers underfoot.

“It’s important to differentiate between when gentle persuasion is needed and when a sharp rebuke is necessary, Your Highness. Now is the time for the latter.”

Ceteran was afraid that his long-cherished political dreams would collapse in an instant.

He wanted to protect the weak, lead to peace, and create a country where no one went hungry and feared for tomorrow.

Swoosh, the stack of papers Marquess Trimidri had piled up wobbled and toppled over.

The floor was once again covered with papers.