A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 21: The Emperor

“It would be disgraceful for the Empire’s hero to sit there all pale and timid, like some pitiful fool, unable to even enjoy the warmth of the sun.”

With those words, the Emperor turned her gaze toward the man kneeling before her, his head bowed at her feet.

“Then, if I may...”

At her command, the very subject of today’s merit ceremony—Whitney Ringaarden—slowly raised his head and offered a faint smile.

“...!?”

For a moment, an oddly heavy silence hung in the air of the garden.

“No, that man... he looks...”

“Mm, hmm-hmm.”

It wasn’t just that Whitney looked oddly elegant for a so-called hero.

“Seems you all are thinking the same thing.”

Because the Emperor, gazing down at Whitney with keen interest, added—

“You look a great deal like me.”

It wasn’t just Whitney’s eyes, but the thin, slightly narrowed shape of them as well.

“Haha... That’s too kind.”

“If anyone should be flattered, it’s me. I’ve been misunderstood for this face since the old days.”

Though in truth, her quiet, whispery voice and sleepy expression made her seem more like the infamous “Half-lidded Emperor.”

“Still... to think someone resembling Your Majesty would appear...”

“D-doesn’t he also look a bit like Lord Sukjae?”

“W-well, at least he’s a hero. Haha...”

Of course, to the ministers, both of them looked eerily similar—and the resemblance stirred up old traumas buried deep within.

“Sir Whitney. Come and sit here by my side.”

Then, the Emperor, who had been watching Whitney intently, casually patted the seat beside her and said those words.

“Your Majesty, that seat is...”

“Whitney feels like a son to me.”

Naturally, the seat beside the Emperor was reserved only for the Crown Prince. For Whitney to sit there was a complete breach of protocol.

“However...”

“It’s not even the palace proper—it’s just the garden. So what?”

But this wasn’t the first etiquette to be bent today, and with the Emperor’s already-narrow eyes thinning even further, none dared argue—aside from the few nervous chamberlains trying to speak up with trembling lips.

“Well then, as ordered.”

After scratching his head briefly, Whitney rose and moved to sit beside the Emperor—and the ministers’ faces turned a shade paler still.

“So, how does it feel to sit in the forbidden seat, Sir Whitney?”

“Feels like I might be arrested for insulting the royal family. Haha.”

Watching the two of them joke side by side was chillingly surreal for the ministers—it was like seeing double.

“What’s the matter? It’s entirely possible you really are my hidden son.”

“Now that you mention it, I suppose that’s not impossible.”

“My goodness. In that case, you’d outrank the sons of my dethroned brother in the line of succession.”

It wasn’t just about resembling each other in appearance anymore.

“Hm, I’ll have to politely decline # Nоvеlight # that. I’m very aware of my place.”

“Meaning, someone unaware of their place is currently near me?”

“Haha, well, who can say?”

“Hoho. That’s my line. Truly, you are my son.”

The two, locking eyes with half-lidded gazes and trading loaded remarks, even shared eerily similar speech patterns and personalities.

Someone save me.

Of course, Whitney—now seated beside the Emperor—was simply spewing nonsense as his mind went blank from panic.

Unfortunately, no one realized that was the truth.

“That’s enough.”

“...?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Any more, and I’ll have to consider it an insult toward my fiancé.”

Just in time—before Whitney’s and the Emperor’s playful banter could escalate dangerously—a voice cut in, much to the relief of the ministers who felt like they were witnessing two Emperors at once.

“Meredia Embergreen. What are you saying, just when you were growing close with my son?”

“There’s a limit to how much nonsense one should endure, Your Majesty.”

Boldly stepping forward, Meredia spoke coldly, while the Emperor replied with a disinterested expression.

Yet Meredia stood her ground, her energy undaunted.

“When my fiancé was born, Your Majesty had only just celebrated your tenth birthday, no?”

“Mm. I was young and full of fire. Love knows no age, after all.”

“Still, Your Majesty’s flippant, insulting jokes can’t be passed off as harmless fun if they drive someone to ruin.”

The Emperor tried to protest, looking rather deadpan, but Meredia’s firm gaze didn’t waver as she continued her warning.

“But if the target is the son of the Embergreen ducal house—my fiancé—then that’s a different matter, is it not?”

“Hm.”

“If you continue, I will take it as an insult to me and to my entire house, Your Majesty.”

As she finished speaking, a brief silence spread through the garden.

“...Honestly, can’t even make a joke anymore.”

The Emperor, breaking that silence with her already half-lidded eyes narrowing even further, turned her gaze back to Whitney with a faint smile.

“Apologies, Sir Whitney. Truth is, I’ve never had any sort of relationship with anyone in my life.”

“Your Majesty...!”

“And now I’m nearly thirty. Truly, the Empire’s misfortune, don’t you think?”

At such an outrageous—no, devastating remark, the chamberlain standing nearby panicked and tried to stop her. But she had already said everything, and now she put on a strangely serious face as she addressed Whitney again.

“Anyway, if my joke offended you, I sincerely apologize.”

“It’s fine. I’ve long been used to not having a mother.”

“Oh dear. In that case, you may as well stay by my side. Truthfully, I’ve always wanted to try playing the role of a mother at least once.”

Then, watching Whitney’s reaction closely, the Emperor gave him a smile uncannily similar to his own and whispered in a low voice.

“If not, I could at least give you the role of consort.”

“...Excuse me? Haha...”

“I actually like you quite a bit.”

Fortunately, that soft little voice didn’t reach the ears of the ministers bowing their heads in the back.

But it reached Meredia Embergreen, who stood at the front—and with her gemstone eyes flashing, she finally hit her limit and issued a final warning.

“Lady Meredia, this time I truly was joking. I’m a wise ruler, not some tyrant who steals other people’s lovers.”

“......”

“That aside, you really must be fond of your fiancé, hmm?”

As if waiting for that line, the Emperor burst into laughter and tilted her head playfully toward Meredia, who wore an expression as cold as a frozen stream.

“My concern is simply with the dignity of myself and my house.”

“And I despise anyone laying a hand on something that benefits my house.”

The Emperor’s expression flickered with a hint of boredom at that answer, but before long, the smile returned to her face.

“Still, to think Lady Meredia would memorize a man’s birthday...”

“Please don’t misunderstand. I simply memorize the personal details of everyone related to me.”

“That’s quite different from someone who can’t even remember Yabetkart’s name. Hoho.”

The Emperor chuckled to herself at Meredia’s sharp reply, then straightened up and smoothly shifted the topic.

“Well, I suppose we should finally get to the main point.”

“...!”

“We gathered here to discuss merit awards, after all. We’ve been chatting too long.”

Thanks to that, the ministers who’d been sweating cold bullets under the warm sun finally started to look slightly more at ease.

“Then, first...”

“Your Majesty!”

With a voice trembling with urgency, a knight in radiant ceremonial armor ran up to the gathering and dropped to one knee.

“I deeply apologize, but I bring urgent news.”

Ordinarily, a knight appearing fully armed before the Emperor and her ministers would warrant immediate execution—but not a single voice objected to this knight’s entrance.

Because the only ones permitted to wear such armor within the palace grounds were those of the Imperial Guard, acting directly on the Emperor’s orders.

“Looks like we’ll have to postpone the merit awards.”

Currently, the Imperial Guard had been tasked with investigating the so-called “engagement day assault”—the incident in which the Crown Prince’s fiancée had been kidnapped.

“Has some dramatic discovery been made about that horrific incident yesterday?”

“...Indeed, Your Majesty.”

“Then report it here and now.”

The Emperor’s face, once bright with mirth, had now completely shed its smile. Her voice was icy as she addressed the kneeling knight.

“The black mages we apprehended at the scene were all in a vegetative state due to the branded sigils carved into them, making investigation difficult...”

“Yes, of course.”

“But we managed to capture one who wasn’t in a coma and was attempting to escape.”

At the knight’s words, murmurs immediately swept through the ministers gathered in the garden.

“Silence, all of you. It’s already been half a day since the incident—why is this only being reported now?”

“He was a follower of Saiwan’s teachings. Fortunately, the Guard managed to find him in time and forcefully kept him alive.”

The Emperor nodded calmly at the knight’s clear and orderly explanation and gave her command.

“Then bring that black mage here immediately.”

“Your Majesty?”

“The person with the most expert knowledge on black magic is sitting right beside me, isn’t he?”

Turning toward the now visibly pale ministers, the Emperor gave the order in a composed voice and looked to Whitney.

“Isn’t that right, Sir Whitney?”

“...Of course, Your Majesty.”

Just then, Whitney noticed something strange about the subtle upturn in the Emperor’s voice—but with no time to question it, he simply nodded.

“Walk straight, you bastard.”

“Ghh... You damn rats...”

From the distance, the rough voices of knights and the ragged breathing of a man being dragged began to echo through the garden.

“Your Majesty, this is the black mage.”

“Agh...!”

“We’ve fitted him with bindings to suppress black magic. He won’t be able to resist.”

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

It hadn’t been long since the order was given, yet the Imperial Guard brought the man swiftly, bowed to the Emperor, and stepped back.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a black mage this close.”

“Sir Whitney, I intend to personally interrogate this man now.”

The Emperor, watching the scene with a newly serious air, rose from her seat and spoke softly to Whitney.

“If you don’t mind, would you assist me?”

“Well, well. I’d been wondering where he disappeared to.”

Muttering coldly, Whitney stood.

“So this is where you were hiding.”

As he stepped forward toward the black mage, his narrowed, crescent-moon smile—eerily like the Emperor’s—radiated enough killing intent to send a chill down everyone’s spine.

“Just try to restrain yourself a little this time. Don’t go smashing his head in just because he’s a black mage like last time...”

“Yahaha, I’ll do my best.”

To everyone watching, the two looked completely in their element—like fish returned to water.

No, this is insane.

But walking beside the Emperor, Whitney could only feel his already-white mind go completely blank, sweat forming on his back as he smiled nervously.

“By the way... did you cause those burn marks too?”

“Haha...”

Because the man now kneeling before them—bound, half his body seared with burn scars—was the very black mage Whitney had fought when abducting Lady Hestia.

I’m screwed.