~Chapter 42~
When Roselia’s eyes flashed, the hall fell silent as though cold water had been poured over it.
Even in the chaos, her blood-red eyes showed no disturbance or fear. She calmly looked over her people, then slowly parted her crimson lips.
“First, let me thank my friends here for gathering today.”
At once, the nobles all rose from their seats and bowed. Roselia accepted their greetings with the same dignity.
It was always this way. Even seated as Empress Dowager, she never treated her “friends” carelessly. Roselia always gave them honor.
“Bring in Viscount Paddington.”
“Yes.”
At her command, Bill gave a signal to the guards by the door. Soon, the doors opened, and in came Viscount Paddington—his appearance a wreck.
His arms and legs were bound.
“……”
Some nobles covered their mouths in shock, while others bit their lips as they stared. Until just last month, Paddington had been sitting among them in this very hall, enjoying the same luxuries.
And now, why was he like this?
The answer was simple.
“Paddington, confess your crimes. Every last one of them.”
Bill kicked him in the back to force him forward. Kneeling, Paddington groaned and hung his head.
“I… I…” He stammered, then spoke slowly.
“I broke the rule that I must keep silent… about the mining rights granted to me by Her Majesty, the Empress Dowager.”
Everything written in Sunday’s Exposé had been true. Long ago, Roselia had secretly granted mining rights to her friends.
The Dilsen family’s monopoly on weapon production was public knowledge, since it was tied directly to military supplies. But the mines were different.
Roselia’s “friends” managed the ores. The Dilsen family produced weapons with those ores.
Together, it formed a vast network.
Roselia herself had secretly bought multiple mines under false names, and she knew this web of connections was directly tied to her power. Long before she secured full control of Drakxion, she had already prepared this plan.
Everything had been perfect—until Sunday’s Exposé revealed it.
“I knew… I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But I let it slip to a woman I met at a tavern.”
It had been nothing more than drunken boasting to impress a woman. Everyone knew it wasn’t a serious betrayal—not even Roselia herself doubted that.
But what did that matter?
He had broken the promise.
And this was the perfect chance to set an example, to remind her “friends” of their rules.
Roselia was always kind to her circle—as long as they remained within the circle.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty! I beg you, I regret it with all my heart, I swear it—please…”
“Please?” Roselia muttered coldly.
“Please what?”
“……”
“Begging for your life, Paddington?”
She sneered.
“You know the rule. Anyone who breaks our promise pays for it with death.”
“I—I—”
“Bill.”
At her call, Bill stepped forward with a dagger. He pressed it into Paddington’s trembling hand.
“For the sake of our old friendship, I’ll grant you this last mercy.”
Her voice was soft, almost gentle.
“Die like a nobleman, Paddington.”
Paddington’s hand shook as he clutched the blade. His tear-filled eyes turned toward Roselia, but her blood-red gaze was merciless.
The hall was filled only with his sobs. His face, wet with tears, twisted with despair. Then, with a final bite of his lips, he made his choice.
He plunged the dagger into his throat.
Thud!
Blood sprayed across the floor. Paddington collapsed like a broken doll, never to rise again.
Roselia rose gracefully to her feet.
“I believe this incident will only strengthen our bond and ensure our survival.”
She smiled elegantly.
“We will continue to rely on each other, to follow our rules, and to protect this relationship.”
The nobles looked at her with pale, uneasy faces.
“I will no longer allow a filthy magazine like Sunday’s Exposé to stain Drakxion.”
“Then who is behind it, Your Majesty?”
“You are right, Empress Dowager!”
“The Dilsen family, who monopolized weapon production and profited from every war?”
“Our Dilsen house will always be loyal to you, Your Majesty. And besides, publishing without Imperial approval is already a crime. Sunday’s Exposé should never have existed in the first place.”
“The one who granted those weapon rights to the Dilsen family?”
Roselia’s red lips curved faintly.
“As Duke Dilsen said, I, Roselia, will uncover the publisher and reporters of Sunday’s Exposé—and punish them.”
“The ones supplying iron and ore for the weapons?”
“That’s right! A trash magazine that spreads lies and stirs the Empire must not be allowed to exist!”
“Your Majesty, just give the order! We’ll do anything to catch them!”
As the nobles shouted, Roselia’s refined voice cut through the noise.
“I believe Sunday’s Exposé is connected to a particular political force.”
“A political force?”
“Think. Who loses the most from this? Us. Then, who gains the most?”
“……”
“Who alone wears the title of war hero, pretending to be a victim?”
“…Killian… Winters…?”
“Correct.”
The nobles shifted uneasily. Everyone knew Roselia hated Killian like poison. And truthfully, many of them did as well. No matter how many times he was thrown into death’s jaws, he always returned alive. Each survival gathered him more supporters.
Even if Killian himself never wanted it, his influence was growing.
This was Roselia’s declaration of war.
But would Killian Winters simply sit still and take it?
“From tomorrow, we begin the search.”
“B-but Your Majesty, there’s no proof yet…”
“Proof?”
Her eyes glinted dangerously.
“Why would we need proof?”
“E-excuse me…?”
“Killian Winters bribed the publishers and reporters of Sunday’s Exposé. He had every reason. Treason? Rebellion? Dividing the nobility? Take your pick.”
“……”
“I have just named Killian Winters as the culprit.”
Roselia’s face hardened, her smile gone, her voice dark and chilling.
“Therefore, the culprit is Killian Winters. No matter what happens.”
Her blood-red eyes gleamed as her words echoed in the hall.
