Please Leave The Sickly Villainess Alone

The council chamber housing the 30 Grand Nobles representing the Empire, along with two court scribes, Lady Jeria, and the Crown Prince himself, resembled a vast hunting ground. 

And those seated recognized the prey being targeted today. 

While divided between protectors and assailants, an unspoken volley of arrows seemed to fill the air.

Once the appointed time arrived, Lady Jeria broke the silence. 

“For the past two years during His Highness the Crown Prince’s absence, the Empire’s trajectory shifted. Not only the citizens but our vassal states too were gripped by turmoil, struggling to find their bearings. The recent uprisings stemmed from this as well.”

When this unprecedented incident erupted, chaos had reigned for a time.

The heir apparent, the future Emperor himself, had been abducted.

That fact alone had caused quite an uproar back then.

“Only now have we regained stability, yet signs of internal strife prompted this 21st convening of the Grand Nobles’ Council.”

As the one who had petitioned to host the council, Lady Jeria took the lead.

Traditionally, the Emperor’s ceremonial presence was required, but he had bluntly declined, seemingly finding it too troublesome. Utterly indifferent towards matters concerning his wife and child, this situation conversely presented Lady Jeria with an opportune window.

Steadying her breath, she surveyed the assembled nobles of her faction before continuing. 

“As you all know, one month prior to the Crown Prince’s return, his title had already been rescinded. The justification was ample – we could no longer await his uncertain return. Then…”

Lady Jeria’s piercing gaze clashed with Luka’s vivid crimson eyes.

In that instant, her ruby lips curled into a venomous smirk.

“I propose we once again offer the three princes a fair opportunity to vie for the Crown Prince’s vacant position.”

Her nonchalant tone belied the gravity of deposing Luka from his position. 

While ostensibly granting him another chance, there would be no reclaiming the Crown Prince’s seat. 

His past glory had faded.

When one star sets, another rises to take its place.

Lady Jeria had no doubts that her two sons would assume those ascendant roles. At the very least, she had undoubtedly forgotten the imposing presence Luka had exuded at the recent debutante ball.

In contrast, the nobles firmly seated in the Crown Prince faction couldn’t have forgotten that formidable aura.

Duke Claire and his eldest son Essil had not aligned with either side.

Before the council commenced, Essil had jovially remarked.

-Claire must forever remain a mere spectator, as has been predetermined since the initial summons.

Though Duke Kablos belonged to the Noble faction and the Duke Rayes to the Crown Prince’s, those who had sought to recruit the neutral Claire Duke could only nod resignedly at Essil’s declaration.

Drehan was among them.

-So Essil intends to sway his father, Duke Claire, after all.

Having known Essil since their academy days, Drehan didn’t necessarily distrust his friend. 

Rather, beneath Duke Claire’s benevolent demeanor, Drehan perceived an unyielding stubbornness wound within.

Luka observed the blustering Noble faction from the Crown Prince’s throne, his expression inscrutable, as if committing each face to memory. His gaze exuded such an unsettling aura that some inexplicably shuddered before the young Crown Prince.

Rising from his seat, Marquis Gassen began leafing through the documents he had prepared, speaking authoritatively.

“Vacating the Crown Prince’s position to redistribute opportunities among the princes is not solely due to the two-year vacancy.”

He swallowed hard.

The Empress still clung to life, like a flickering candle whose extinguishing remained uncertain. Yet she endured, still bearing the Empress’s title…

“Here I possess evidence that calls His Highness the Crown Prince’s legitimacy into question.”

The Marquis’s words sent ripples through the chamber.

Duke Rayes’s low voice quelled the disturbance.

“Silence. Marquis Gassen, we have no time to indulge your outlandish claims. This is no place for jokes.”

Though the Duke Rayes’s measured rebuke nearly cowed him, Marquis Gassen remained delusionally confident that even this man, renowned for felling eagles mid-flight, would soon kneel before him.

“You all must recall the Traitorous Prince.”

Everyone grasped the implicit reference, even without the name being spoken – the present Emperor’s executed younger brother from years ago.

Archduke Gruben.

Like the current Luka, Archduke Gruben had once been a highly acclaimed, capable prince. 

Of upright character, he had advocated redistributing nobles’ private lands to commoners – policies that had greatly advanced his territory’s welfare, exemplifying true noblesse oblige. 

He reigned as a respected sovereign, earning his subjects’ unwavering adulation.

Yet his downfall stemmed from baseless slander, condensing into the dew that adorned the execution grounds. And years later, a certain rumor emerged from some unknown source:

“There were those who witnessed Archduke Gruben and the Empress conducting an illicit affair.” 

Marquis Gassen grinned.

* * *

From the Grand Nobles’ Council held when Luka was fifteen until his return from the battlefield at eighteen, one persistent controversy had doggedly trailed him – the Marquis Gassen-instigated allegations of an adulterous relationship between the late Empress and Archduke Gruben.

In truth, the two had been close childhood friends.

Witnessing the Empress’s increasing isolation and depression within the palace, Archduke Gruben had frequently visited, providing her much-needed companionship.

Especially after Luka’s birth, when her melancholy worsened, Archduke Gruben became her sole pillar of support, visiting her daily.

It was around that time that the strange rumor began circulating.

Whispers of the Empress conducting secret trysts with Archduke Gruben. Some even speculated whether the prince in her womb was truly sired by the Archduke. 

Such scandalous gossip, dismissed as baseless drivel from washerwomen, would have invited severe repercussions for anyone caught repeating it.

Yet the Emperor, who had previously remained indifferent to the Empress’s suffering, reacted differently this time. 

Having grown up constantly overshadowed by his exceptionally talented younger brother Gruben, he harbored an intense dislike for him. Thus, the very sight of Gruben drawing close to the Empress, even as a dear friend, proved unacceptable.

Moreover, the nobles who frowned upon Gruben’s steadfast advocacy for commoner welfare began whispering into the Emperor’s ear: 

[Archduke Gruben harbors ambitions for the Empress and is preparing a rebellion.]

[A rebellion…? Haha! That worm?]

The Empress vehemently protested his innocence, insisting he had merely provided consolation during her darkest hours. Yet the Emperor and nobles, united by mutual self-interest, disregarded the truth and executed Gruben for treason.

Consumed by the belief that she was responsible for this tragedy, the Empress descended into a profound trauma.

Now, Marquis Gassen sought to resurrect this once-controversial incident, with the Empress and Luka as his new targets.

“There was an eyewitness to the Empress and the late Archduke Gruben’s illicit relations.”

Beside me, Miller pressed his ear against the wall, his ashen expression betraying his disbelief as he muttered:

“That madman.”

While those hearing such claims for the first time would undoubtedly react similarly, as the Marquis summoned one witness after another, exceeding ten individuals, seeds of doubt would inevitably take root.

The imminent witnesses included the Empress’s former attendants, Archduke Gruben’s carriage drivers, and even the palace gardeners – individuals deemed credible, poised to deliver believable testimonies.

In reality, Archduke Gruben had merely accompanied the ailing Empress on strolls and provided companionship. Yet from the servants’ perspective, it had appeared quite differently.

Conveyed with such conviction, even falsehoods could seem indistinguishable from truth.

“We cannot allow this to proceed.”

Wherever these witnesses were being held, they would soon be summoned to the council chamber, likely in the vicinity.

“Tharo, I need you to transform again.”

At my words, Tharo instantly shifted from a wolf pup into a majestic avian form.

“Wh-What?! You can transform too?!”

Miller’s startled exclamation prompted Tharo to snort derisively, regarding me with a ‘how provincial’ look.

“There are around fifteen individuals gathered somewhere in this castle, soon to testify about those preposterous claims. Fly through the windows and locate their whereabouts.”

Tharo nodded before taking flight through the window opening.

“Witnesses, you say?”

“Apparently there were those who claim to have witnessed the events. They must have been summoned here to provide testimony.”

Grasping Miller’s shoulder, I pressed my ear against the wall once more to monitor the proceedings.

* * *

“I presume the Marquis comprehends the gravity of those words.”

Luka inquired coolly, his chilling tone laced with indifference.

Though a shiver ran down Marquis Gassen’s spine, he had steeled himself for this confrontation to some degree.

“I have thoroughly vetted these claims hundreds of times before daring to voice them. The witnesses shall arrive shortly.”

Duke Rayes questioned:

“Witnesses?”

“All former attendants of the late Empress and the traitorous Archduke Gruben – trustworthy individuals.”

Luka’s smile combined cruelty with eerie warmth.

“Can the Marquis take responsibility for those words? It may cost you your life.”

For a fleeting instant, Marquis Gassen forgot even to swallow, overwhelmed by sheer terror. 

‘My life? Have I overstepped?’

As myriad thoughts flooded his mind, his gaze returned to the reins he had grasped so tightly.

Lady Jeria’s expression shone with unprecedented exhilaration as she observed him.

By satisfying her, he could attain unimaginable wealth and glory. Clinging to that sole ambition, he steadied his resolve.

* * *

[Master, I’ve located them. Ten humans are gathered in a chamber on the third floor, discussing their intended testimonies.]

“Excellent. Now I need you to transform into something large enough to carry me. Can you manage that?”

[Again with my true form not being trendy enough…]

I approached the window ledge and clambered onto Tharo’s back as he morphed into an immense avian form, easily capable of bearing my weight.

“Brother, please wait here for me.”

Leaving Miller with those parting words, I clung to the soaring Tharo as we accessed the third-floor chamber through the window.

The witnesses remained unaware of our intrusion for now. Their knightly guard seemed stationed outside the door.

[Mind your footing, Master. One misstep from this height, and it’s your final goodbye.]

Undeterred by Tharo’s ominous warning, I carefully maneuvered onto the window ledge, only to accidentally nudge a nearby planter.

Thunk-

Though a faint sound, I immediately scanned the witnesses, half-expecting…

Their startled gazes met mine directly. Forcing a smile, I addressed the group regarding me with horror-struck expressions. 

“Pardon me, but where might the restroom be located? I’ve searched high and low, yet cannot seem to find it…”

“Y-You there! I shall summon the guards!”

“Ah, please don’t trouble yourself…”

The instant the lone male rose from his seat, poised to alert the guards, Tharo activated an immense magic circle beneath our feet.

One by one, beginning with a woman, the witnesses froze in place as if halted by some unseen force – even the man about to cry for the guards.

Familiars possessed unique innate abilities, and Tharo’s was ‘Pause’ – a seemingly broken skill that rapidly drained his mana reserves, rendering prolonged usage impossible. Furthermore, its effectiveness varied between targets, though thankfully, these individuals appeared susceptible.

“How long can you sustain this?”

[Two minutes at most. Three, if I push my limits.]

With an extremely limited window, I cautiously descended onto the chamber floor.