Later that evening, the study remained illuminated long after the rest of the palace turned silent.
A vast map had been fastened across the stone wall, stretching from one end of the chamber to the other beneath the wavering candlelight. Mountain paths used by merchants and armies alike. Knight designations marked in careful ink. Trade routes crossing through cities like veins beneath flesh.
Every piece of land carried value.
Every line drawn upon that map could either sustain a kingdom—
Or drown it in blood.
Ett stood before it quietly while Gammarad remained beside the long table nearby, several reports and military proposals arranged in perfect order near his arm.
Her gaze slowly traveled across the lands before stopping at a particular territory.
"Ostenian Duchy."
The corner of her lips lowered lightly.
"And Garth."
Her fingers lightly tapped the border between the two domains.
"Their relationship remains neutral for now. They may have concealed Veralis' arrival here, but secrets do not remain buried forever."
Especially among nobles.
One frightened servant.
One greedy relative.
One drunken mistake during a banquet.
That was all it took for rumors to spread across kingdoms.
"When that time comes…" Ett murmured, "What will the Duke of Garth choose?"
Would he continue pretending neutrality? Or would he immediately sever ties to preserve his household?
Politics was never built upon loyalty.
Only advantage.
Only survival.
"Question."
Gammarad lifted his gaze toward her.
"Yes, You're Grace?"
"How old are you, Commander?"
The abrupt shift of topic slightly caught him off guard, though his expression barely changed.
"This servant has lived forty-two years, Your Grace."
"Forty-two…"
"When did you first participate in the war?"
"At seven."
"…."
Seven.
When Ett was seven, she was still crying over broken Lego and unfinished homework.
Meanwhile, this man had already entered battlefields.
What kind of cursed dark fantasy setting was this?
Her thoughts nearly wandered further before she dragged herself back mentally.
Focus.
Please focus.
Her brain truly enjoyed embarrassing her during serious conversations.
"And when did you first see me?"
"The moment this servant entered the Palace to receive the former Emperor's praise, Your Grace."
"And the Duke of Garth?"
He has also seen Your Grace."
"I see…"
That had been before her existence was completely concealed from the public eye. During those years, the palace still held select celebrations attended only by nobles trusted by the imperial household.
"He attended those gatherings?"
"Yes."
Ett folded her arms quietly.
"That makes things troublesome."
Yet useful at the same time.
"If I retain his son while he hears rumors that I still live," Ett said slowly, "then the Duke cannot fully distinguish truth from falsehood."
After all, who would believe it?
A Queen Dowager returning as a child?
Absurd.
Most would sooner believe she was merely another hidden princess related to Guren than accept such madness.
And Veralis, judging by his personality, had likely described her honestly and in great detail to his father.
The Duke of Garth was probably suspicious already.
Curious, and restless.
Consider visiting the palace personally one day to confirm what kind of existence she truly was.
Sadly for him, that would not happen anytime soon.
Uncertainty was more dangerous than enemies.
Because an enemy standing before you could at least be killed.
Uncertainty could not.
"That is acceptable," Ett murmured.
Veralis is still within her grasp.
And more importantly, the cure.
No matter how battle-driven the Garth family was rumored to be, they were not fools. They would move carefully while uncertainty remained.
"Should we interfere beforehand?"
Gammarad asked.
Ett shook his head.
"The Patriarch will not act recklessly yet."
There was still time.
For now.
However, "The imperial spies division remains painfully slow."
A faint irritation crossed her expression.
"There are too many blind spots."
Too many unresolved matters.
Too many missing details.
She disliked moving without information.
Though Cashim would eventually prove useful once he fully secures the territories under his influence, that would still take time.
"My apologies, Your Grace."
"It is not solely your fault."
Truthfully, part of the issue came from her own frustrations. She kept trying to apply modern ideas to an empire still operating under medieval structures.
Some things worked.
Others became troublesome.
Ett lowered her gaze toward Gammarad's proposals once more.
Honestly…
His work was unexpectedly impressive.
Military distribution.
Communication systems.
Knight specialization.
Rotational formation.
With only a few fragmented concepts she had mentioned before, he had already created structures frighteningly close to modern military organization.
Very fitting.
Something you could expect from Gammarad's household, which is one of the Great Knight Families.
"You've done well," Ett said, lightly tapping the papers against the table. "I shall read these later."
Gammarad bowed his head in acknowledgment.
"We shall continue observing Ostenia closely."
A villain has to watch his fellow villain. Isn't that right?
Cough.
"Tch. Water, please."
Her throat felt painfully dry these days.
Without delay, Gammarad poured tea into a nearby cup and handed it toward her.
"Your Grace."
"Mm."
Ett took a slow sip before returning her attention to the map once more.
Her fingers moved toward a marked region near the western trade routes.
"Akan's here."
The current location.
"The Iron Bridge," Gammarad replied.
"Yes."
Ett narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Once this is finished, neighboring kingdoms will inevitably gather around this territory."
Trade routes would expand.
Travel time would shorten.
Merchants would flock here.
And where wealth gathered, foreign eyes followed.
"The nations shall admire Your Grace's foresight," Gammarad said respectfully.
"Admire?"
Ett gave a quiet snort.
"There will be spies, sabotage attempts, political interference, before admiration even begins."
Human greed remained predictable across eras.
People only praised things they failed to steal.
"You shall assist Akan if matters become severe."
"I obey, Your Grace."
Ett leaned back slightly afterward.
Truthfully, Akan had not written back properly for quite some time.
Something was happening.
And he was deliberately withholding details.
Ett wanted to go personally.
Secretly, as always.
Yet simply imagining the journey already exhausted her.
Three days toward the Ostenian territory.
One day, inside a carriage, she nearly destroyed her spine.
What unreasonable punishment was this for a villainess?
"….Annoying."
Remaining still while others moved around her was somehow even worse.
Bam!
The study doors suddenly burst open.
"What in—"
Her heart violently jumped.
"I am here!"
Who was it?
Razim?
Rakel?
Ah.
Ralis.
No, Veralis.
Veralis Garth.
Finally. Yet what is this guy's intro?
"How utterly disrespectful."
Gammarad moved forward, sword partially unsheathed.
"Wait, wait!" Ares hurriedly stepped between them while dragging Veralis backward. "My apologies, I have failed to instruct the Young Master Veralis properly."
Then he bowed quickly.
"Greetings, Mistress. Please forgive me for this sudden intrusion. Young Master seems to be quite eager to see you that he forgot his manners."
"A noble ought to know when to knock, how to enter, and when to speak," Gammarad said coldly, looking at Veralis. "Don't be too soft with him, Ares."
His gaze sharpened.
"Ignoble."