CHAPTER 182: WEB OF NOBLES

[Emperor Cassius POV—Imperial Palace—Throne Room—continuation]

His smug expression faltered—just slightly. But I saw it. The flicker of fear.

"Remember this well," I said, my voice low and deliberate, each syllable slicing through the hall, "the Crown Princess’s will... is mine. And mine... is law."

A shiver rippled through the chamber. Gasps, muffled curses, and the sound of silk sleeves brushing as nobles glanced at one another in dread. I leaned back on the throne, letting the silence stretch, savoring their unease.

"And..." I let the pause hang, cruel and heavy, before adding with a faint, icy smile, "The Crown Princess was far more merciful than I would have been."

Count Talvan swallowed hard, forcing himself to step forward. His voice trembled despite his attempt at composure.

"Increasing the tax to ninety-five percent is... mercy, Your Majesty?"

I turned my gaze upon him—slowly. Like a predator regarding its next meal. But before I spoke, Regis’s laughter, quiet and smooth, slid across the hall like oil.

"Of course it is, Count Talvan."

The nobles turned to him, startled. Regis’s smile was almost boyish and casual, as if discussing the weather.

"Mercy, indeed. Because we all know..." His tone softened, teasing almost, though the words burned, "if such a matter had come before His Majesty directly—"

His eyes flicked to me, lips curling, "—your heads would already be rolling on this floor."

A collective flinch. The nobles’ knees nearly buckled.

Regis let the moment settle, then continued, voice still pleasant but sharp as glass.

"So yes... compared to His Majesty’s decree, the Crown Princess’s command is gentle. Merciful. A gift you do not deserve." He let his smile fade, coldness bleeding into his tone. "And yet... she has even allowed a path back."

Brows furrowed. No one dared to breathe too loudly.

"If the traitor," Regis said, voice dropping to a deadly hush, "dares to surrender themselves... to kneel before the Crown Princess and beg for her forgiveness... then, and only then, will the tax return to its previous state."

He straightened, eyes gleaming like a blade unsheathed.

"So instead of wasting your time wringing your hands here—" His voice snapped like a whip, "—you would do better to hunt down the traitor and deliver them alive. Unless, of course, you wish to be mistaken for sympathizers."

Silence. Thick. Suffocating. No one moved.

I let the weight of their fear linger, then leaned forward just enough, my eyes narrowing into slits.

"And do remember..." I murmured, my voice like iron dragged across stone, "Mercy is not infinite. Defy us again—" I paused, letting them imagine the rest "—and you will pray for a fate as swift as decapitation."

The hall trembled with their shudders.

"Court is dismissed," I declared, my voice sharp as steel.

The nobles bowed low, their silken robes rustling like whispers of treachery, before scurrying out of the hall. When the heavy doors slammed shut behind them, the silence that remained was thicker—heavier—than their presence.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back against the gilded throne. My hands itched—not for a blade this time, but for restraint.

"Seems..." I murmured, my voice edged with disdain, "Like we are raising too many vipers in this empire."

Regis chuckled, smooth and mocking.

"At least these vipers are visible, Cassius. Their fangs gleam in the open. We can defend ourselves from their poison." His eyes darkened. "It is the ones hiding in the grass... the ones who bite unseen... that we must fear."

Ravick’s hand tightened over his sword hilt. "Your Majesty... Do you truly believe the traitor will show themself?"

I smirked, slow and deliberate. "Of course, Ravick. This... is not a game of blades." My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "It is the mental game my daughter has begun."

Ravick frowned. "Mental... game?"

"Yes." I leaned forward, eyes glinting. "And it is far more dangerous than slaughter. A sword kills only once. Fear—doubt—paranoia... They kill a thousand times before death arrives."

Theon gave a grim nod.

"The empire is unsettled. Every corner whispers with unease. The traitor must already be trembling under the weight of suspicion. Sooner or later, the pressure will drive them into a mistake—or force them to crawl forward."

I allowed myself a rare smile, pride swelling like fire in my chest.

"I did not think... My daughter would wield such cunning. To twist fear itself into a weapon..." My jaw tightened, but my voice carried a hint of warmth. "I cannot believe my daughter is this smart."

Regis’s grin widened, shameless. "I agree. Looks like my grandchildren will be even smarter."

My head snapped toward him. My hand clenched into a fist.

"...What did you just say?"

He blinked innocently, tilting his head. "What? Did you forget your own promise, Cassius?"

This bastard.

Theon’s brows furrowed, his voice sharp. "What promise, Grand Duke?"

Regis’s smile turned wolfish. "The promise that after her coming-of-age ceremony, our kids will be enga—"

In a flash, steel was drawn. My blade gleamed at his throat, the edge a hair’s breadth from spilling his blood.

"Finish that word," I snarled, my voice like thunder cracking through the chamber, "and I will slit your throat where you stand."

But Regis did not flinch. No—his eyes flared with offense, his voice rising in fury.

"WHAT? You dare go back on your word? You promised! You promised our children would be engaged after her coming-of-age!"

I lowered the sword just enough to show disdain, turning my gaze aside, unwilling to grant him the satisfaction of my full attention.

"My memory..." I drawled, my tone venom-laced, "has grown weak with age. I recall no such promise. Perhaps... I am getting old. Too old."

"You..." Regis jabbed a trembling finger toward me, face twisting with rage. "You dare... you dare mock me?!"

Then, as suddenly as the storm had risen, he stilled. A slow, deliberate breath. His fury sharpened into something colder.

"Fine," he murmured, a dangerous calm settling over him. His lips curled into a serpent’s smile."If you will not ask the princess..." His eyes gleamed with challenge. "...then I will ask her myself."

The audacity.

I leaned forward on the throne, eyes narrowing. "Utter even a single word—marriage or engagement—near my daughter, and I will not hesitate to kill your son."

The hall froze. A pin could have dropped, and the silence would have shattered like glass.

Regis blinked, then scoffed, attempting bravado. "You can’t be serious. What father in his right mind wishes for his daughter to remain partnerless?"

"ME," I said flatly, without a blink.

The air turned sharp. Theon and Ravick shifted uneasily, exchanging glances, uncertain whether to breathe or bolt.

Theon cleared his throat and stepped forward. "I... I think it would be wiser to redirect our attention to the present. Politics is shifting rapidly, Your Majesty. Once the princess begins mingling with the nobility, the balance of power may... overturn. We should prepare for what is to come."

I leaned back against the throne, fingers drumming the armrest, the weight of his words heavy in the air. "You’re right." My eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade, as they fixed on him.

"Now, Tell me, Theon... What of the hidden emperor of Irethene? Have you found any trace?"

Theon hesitated before bowing his head.

"No, Your Majesty. But... we now have confirmation. The man—he resides within our empire. And not far. Very close. There is no record of suspicious foreigners in neighboring kingdoms, nor in the distant courts. Whoever he is... he hides here, under our nose."

I leaned back in my chair, fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. "And is there any suspicious movement from the noble families?"

Theon lowered his gaze to the stack of documents in his hand, shuffling through them carefully.

"There was one. But from House Everett. They had been steadily funneling funds, moving resources toward a cause we couldn’t quite trace. But..." He paused, lips tightening. "After the Princess’s sudden tax decree, their activities froze. Abruptly. Too abruptly. As if something—or someone—they supported lost its supply overnight."

Regis arched a brow. "So the princess’s announcement did more than rattle noble pride—it strangled a vein of conspiracy."

"Exactly," Theon said grimly. "House Everett is not alone. Several families had been in quiet motion. Small, almost invisible patterns—land purchases, grain hoarding, private armed hires. All of it halted the moment new levies were imposed. They were unprepared. Their coin coffers... were not as endless as they pretended."

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the truth settling in my chest. "So, what they painted as outrage over my child’s decree was in fact panic. Their hidden schemes cut them off before they could breathe."

Theon inclined his head. "Yes, Your Majesty. The princess, unknowingly or not, disrupted something vast. Something they had nurtured for years."

A silence stretched, heavy with meaning.

Regis broke it, voice low and sharp.

"If the hidden emperor has allies among our nobility... then her words may have bought us time. It is the perfect moment to strike, Cassius. Even if we fail to unmask him, we can at least unearth the nobles who conspire in his shadow."

The flicker of candlelight carved harsh lines across his face, his gaze like tempered steel.

I leaned back in my chair, fingers drumming once against the armrest. The fire crackled, loud in the silence that followed.

"Then do it."

Theon and Regis exchanged a look, the kind that spoke of grim resolve. Somewhere beyond these walls, enemies were waiting—hidden in plain sight, closer than I had ever imagined.

And now... the hunt would begin.