What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 110
Runellia ground her teeth at Zebiken’s unyielding demeanor. Even though she knew he was right, her heart raced too wildly to remain composed.
“You’re the only one I can rely on. The rest are cowards or incompetents who can’t even serve as useful pawns.”
“I fail to see how aiding Your Highness benefits me in any way.”
“What if I bore His Majesty’s child? If my child inherited the bloodline magic and eventually claimed the throne?”
“How intriguing.”
Zebiken placed his quill down with a faint thud. Rather than taking her words seriously, he leaned back slightly, regarding her with an expression that seemed to say, Let’s see how far this goes.
“That’s impossible. If His Majesty intended to take you to his bed, he would have done so already.”
“Why do you think it’s impossible? There are plenty of spells, potions, or methods out there.”
“Any attempt to deceive His Majesty would surely cost you your life.”
“I’m already living like the dead. This isn’t the palace life I envisioned!”
“Everyone lives that way. Ideals rarely align with reality.”
At Zebiken’s sardonic reply, Runellia slammed the desk again, the sharp sound making his eyebrows twitch. As he recalled the Emperor’s description of her as uncouth, she leaned forward, her venomous expression close to his.
“One night would suffice. I could bear His Majesty’s child and then disappear. Just like the Empress did. If I wait patiently after that, my time in the spotlight will come. My child could become Emperor!”
‘She’s lost her mind.’
Zebiken clicked his tongue inwardly. There was so much to criticize, yet he chose to respond dismissively, unwilling to waste energy.
“Why not approach Her Majesty the Empress directly and ask for her secret, then?”
“Are you mocking me? His Majesty has completely forbidden access to the Empress’s palace. How could I even get to her?”
“That restriction will likely be lifted soon. His Majesty will make adjustments to ensure the Empress doesn’t flee out of frustration.”
That way, history won’t repeat itself.
Zebiken accurately anticipated Kazhan’s behavior. After cleaning up so many of his messes, he had become adept at reading the Emperor’s mind.
Runellia, however, remained agitated, biting her lip as though on the verge of desperation.
“Even if I could approach her, what could I say? His Majesty openly shields the Empress in every way possible.”
“A pity. I imagine Your Highness must be quite heartbroken.”
“Zebiken Barilio!”
“Your Highness.”
Finally losing his patience with her insolence, Zebiken spoke coldly.
“Are you aware that you are currently disrupting the Chancellor’s demanding workload?”
“……”
Runellia clenched her fists tightly. Of course, she knew she was overstepping, and she also understood that Zebiken was unlikely to help her. But what other choice did she have?
Duke Blake would report her every word directly to the Emperor, and the other nobles were useless husks, unable to assist her.
“…Help me. Just this once. I’ll pay any price within my power.”
Her pride crushed, Runellia’s voice turned pleading. Tears glimmered in her beautiful eyes as she begged him.
“You stand to lose nothing. You’re His Majesty’s most trusted ally, the Chancellor, and the man in power.”
She wasn’t wrong. Zebiken Barilio had been the one to support Kazhan and elevate him to the throne. Without him, Kazhan would likely have died by the hands of the previous Emperor.
And as Kazhan’s instability worsened, Zebiken’s authority grew. Even now, with the Emperor reasserting himself, Zebiken handled most major decisions.
Finally, for the first time, he let out a contemplative murmur.
“Anything you can pay…”
Runellia’s eyes lit up with hope. She looked at him expectantly, only for Zebiken to smirk coldly.
“Can you truly bear the weight of your words?”
“Of course. I’d even sign a contract if necessary.”
Without hesitation, Zebiken retrieved a fresh sheet of paper from his desk drawer. With elegant strokes of his inked quill, he began drafting a contract.
“Well then, let’s have a discussion.”
* * *
Thud.
The door to the office closed as Runellia departed. Now alone, Zebiken slid the freshly signed contract into his desk drawer, muttering to himself.
“Foolish woman.”
She had staked everything on bearing a Tennilath heir.
People so blindly fixated on a single goal often made the best pawns. While he wasn’t yet certain how he would use her, she would surely be of value somewhere.
“At the very least…”
She could accompany him in his more dangerous schemes.
Zebiken’s gray eyes narrowed. Twice now, Chernian blood had forgotten itself and clung to the Emperor. This time, a harsher approach would be required.
