The Villainess's Reputation [Kingdom Building]

326. Conley Assassin

“Let me tell you what’s been happening in the shadows, Lady Marie,” Rexford said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “And how the pieces are being moved to ensure the board is tilted in Her Highness’s favor long before the race even begins.”He tapped the table with a slow, rhythmic beat, a smirk playing on his lips. “By calling in a favor I was owed by Prince Benjamin Soliras, Laila and I were able to spend our time in hiding within the Conley Empire after Her Highness’s exile. During that year, we didn’t just sit around, we gathered a mountain of information on the Conley nobles and the highest-ranking officials in their court.”

Laila picked up the thread, leaning forward with a glint in her eyes. “That’s how we were able to frame an operative of Conley’s Prime Minister as the chief suspect for His Majesty Emperor Andrew’s ‘murder.’”

“The Prime Minister of the Conley Empire is one of the most loyal dogs connected to the Syndicate,” Rexford added, pausing to take a final bite of his cake. “He is the one leading the Conley Empire to ruin under the Cult’s influence, making him the biggest threat to the Crown Prince’s future.”

“So, this frame-up provides a justification for Prince Benjamin to finally go against the Prime Minister?” Marie asked, the political gears finally clicking into place in her mind.

“Benjamin has been planning a coup ever since the Syndicate started dictating his sick father’s every move,” Rexford explained. “But he was paralyzed by self-doubt, terrified that he was betraying his father’s will. He simply didn’t realize the Cult was using mind control. So, I sent him a letter detailing the detection method.”

Laila tapped the table sharply to bring Marie’s focus back to her. “Now he has a clear understanding of the crisis. His public image won’t take a hit because he isn't attacking the Imperial Court, he's attacking a Cult that has infiltrated it. He will definitely make his move now, and we will be right there to aid him in claiming the throne.”

“But... how does crowning Prince Benjamin Emperor help make Master the Empress of Ancorna?” Marie asked. She understood the power play in the Conley Empire, but she didn't see the bridge back to their own succession.

Rexford patted her head, his smile widening. “That is the entire reason Her Highness sent Duke Morgen to influence Emperor Andrew’s final decree.”

“The first succession quest,” Laila revealed with a triumphant smile, “will be to bring His Majesty’s murderer in alive.”

Aurora, who had been grinning devilishly while watching the pair explain the plan, finally chimed in. “That was the condition Her Highness set for Emperor Andrew. She offered the support of her newspapers to ensure his new succession law was accepted after his death, but in exchange, she got to help ‘shape’ the initial trials.”

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Marie’s eyes went wide. “So... wait. By the time the decree is passed and the new succession law is officially initiated, Crown Prince Benjamin will have already launched his coup and won. And since we were the ones who supported him...”

“...He will easily hand over his rival’s operative to us as the ‘assassin,’” Rexford finished.

“Exactly,” Laila said, taking a satisfied bite of her tart. “With that operative in her custody, Her Highness will complete the first quest before the others even know where to start. And of course, we have a backup plan in place if the first quest somehow differs from the decree's draft.”

Rexford leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “The game was won before it even started, Marie. That is how her highness plays.”

John’s Apartment, Residential District, Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

John let out a long, weary sigh as he hung his uniform jacket by the door. His shoulders ached from a long shift overseeing the security of the Northern Docks, but the moment he smelled the rich, savory aroma of garlic and roasting meat, the tension began to melt away.

“You’re late,” Katrina called out from the kitchen. She was leaning over a polished stainless-steel counter, plating a dish of seared steak and root vegetables. The warm glow of the mana-lamps overhead caught the light in her hair, making her look softer, more radiant than the iron-willed administrator he saw during working hours.

“The new shipment of flowers from Otto City had some... paperwork discrepancies,” John grunted, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Forgive me?”

Katrina leaned back into him, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I suppose I can be persuaded. But only because you look like you’ve been run over by a carriage.”

They sat down at their small, modern dining table. Dinner was a lively affair, filled with the lovey-dovey bickering that had become their hallmark. John recounted the chaos of the docks, while Katrina continued about complaining about the train passengers as he teased her about her growing obsession with the new steam-powered cranes.

“You love those machines more than me sometimes,” he joked, nudging his foot with hers under the table.

“Impossible,” Katrina replied, her expression turning more tender as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “They’re just iron. You’re the reason I bother to create a home on this island at all.”

As the meal wound down and they moved to the sofa to share a final cup of herbal tea, Katrina’s demeanor shifted. She became uncharacteristically quiet, her eyes sparkling with a secret she had been holding in since noon.

“John,” she said softly, reaching into the pocket of her apron. “I went to the new Medical R&D center today. Since they’ve started the new health screening initiative Her Highness ordered.”

John sat up straight, his protective instincts immediately flaring. “Is everything alright? Are you sick? Did the healers say—”

“Shh, just read it,” she interrupted, pressing a crisp piece of paper into his hand.

It wasn't a traditional priest's scroll. It was a formal hospital report, printed on high-quality paper with the seal of the Kim City Advance Academy’s Medical Department. John’s eyes scanned the sophisticated medical jargon, the results of a "biochemical hormone analysis" that Ravenna’s new researchers had perfected.

His eyes stopped on the final line, written in clear, bold ink: [Result: Positive. Gestational Period: Approximately 6 Weeks.]

John’s breath hitched. He looked at the paper, then back at Katrina, who was watching him with tears of joy shimmering in her eyes.

“Wait... Katrina? Does this mean...?”

“We’re having a baby, John,” she whispered, her voice breaking, hugging him.