A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 23: The Emperor (3)

“...It’s because no one ever knows what you’re thinking.”

Of course, the Emperor—being someone with the same expression—knew that moments like this were the most dangerous of all, and so she simply waited and watched.

What’s she saying?

But in truth, Whitney had missed everything she’d said. All he could do was strain to catch words through the ministers’ frightened murmurs, as they panicked over the white mist he’d conjured.

“Heh... what’s with this smoke...?”

So the sudden clash of egos between characters in the mist passed almost unnoticed, until—

“Wait, what?”

The black mage, coughing and grimacing just in front of Whitney, finally caught a glimpse of his face through the haze and widened her eyes.

“Y-you... you’re that bastard who stole the Saintess!”

“......”

“Why are you even here!?”

The abrupt accusation silenced the murmuring ministers all at once.

“Um... are you talking about me?”

“Hah! You think I’d forget that smug grin of yours?!”

Her voice—angry and full of resentment—echoed through the now quiet garden.

“If you hadn’t suddenly interfered, I wouldn’t be half-burnt and thrown in chains like this!”

“Hm.”

“Wipe that damned smirk off your face and tell us the truth! Which black mage sect do you serve?! Or is it—”

But in the middle of her rant, the black mage suddenly spotted the Emperor standing behind Whitney and froze.

“...Hah. So that’s it. You’re the Emperor’s dog. Traitorous bastard.”

Curling her lip, she began alternating between glaring at Whitney and the Emperor, spitting out her words with venom.

“I should’ve known. You never felt like a real white mage. Your energy was way too similar to ours. Now it all makes sense.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hah! Laugh while you still can. You’ll regret this soon enough.”

Whitney grimaced at her continued accusations, but she stared at him with murder in her eyes, undeterred.

“Once you’ve left Grandja’s protection, not even the Emperor can save you.”

“......”

“So how about helping me instead? I could put in a good word for—urk!”

Her words were cut short when Meredia—who had been quietly staring at her hand this whole time—suddenly stepped forward and kicked the black mage hard in the stomach.

“Black mages love to ramble on about things only they understand.”

Now that Whitney’s sealing spell had rendered the mana shock collar useless, Meredia took it upon herself to shut her up. Her voice was cold and razor-sharp.

“But that first thing you said—that can’t be ignored.”

Her expression stood in stark contrast to the Emperor’s, who looked visibly displeased.

“Black mage. Didn’t you just say my fiancé kidnapped the Saintess?”

“Ugh... who the hell are you now...”

“You seemed pretty sure about it earlier. Why change your story now?”

Just moments ago, the Emperor had worn the face of a predator closing in on her prey. But now, Meredia was the one wearing it.

“I—I never said that!”

In the sudden shift of power, the black mage, now wheezing on the ground, scrambled to deny it.

“I imagine many of you are confused by this foolish black mage’s behavior.”

As if on cue, Meredia turned her gaze to the gathered ministers and calmly laid out the situation.

“Of course, that’s understandable...”

“Wait! I’m not finished—!”

“She appears to be under the effects of a rather high-level delusion spell, wouldn’t you agree?”

Though her eyes lingered briefly on the Emperor, they soon shifted back to Whitney.

“My fiancé attempted to purify it, but it seems the spell was so strong it completely fried her brain.”

“Lies! He really did kidnap the Saintess!”

“And now she’s trying to pin false charges on Sir Whitney, the hero chosen by Her Majesty herself?”

The black mage, sensing that things were slipping out of her control, tried to fight back—but it was already too late.

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, I would like to formally challenge the credibility of this testimony.”

“No! That’s not it! You imperial morons—AARGH!”

The more she screamed, the more her credibility—as a black mage no less—plummeted to rock bottom.

“Your thoughts, Your Majesty?”

Seizing the moment, Meredia turned to the Emperor with a faintly mocking smile and posed her question.

“...You raise a good point.”

After a moment of silence, the Emperor responded in an unexpectedly calm voice.

“Still, the core issue remains unchanged.”

The confident, victorious glint that had been in her eye moments ago was now completely gone.

“Unless you’re hiding something... why go so far to avoid removing that handkerchief?”

“Such a statement hardly befits Your Majesty’s usual logic.”

Meredia’s eyes narrowed, and for the first time, she echoed the Emperor’s own phrasing from earlier.

“With the testimony now almost certainly proven false, there’s no longer any need for me to show my hand.”

That was the decisive blow—enough to finally flip what had seemed like a hopeless situation.

“Even with the longstanding oath between the House of Embergreen and the Imperial Family, I can’t condone such arrogance.”

But the Emperor was not one to back down easily.

“Lady Meredia, surely you understand that even between monarch and subject, certain courtesies must be observed?”

Her voice, calm yet firm, carried the weight of a ruler who had built the Empire into what it was since its founding.

“Well, I can’t force you, if you insist on keeping up appearances.”

Even so, the Emperor never crossed the final line. Still, had Meredia refused to reveal her hand, rumors would no doubt have spread throughout the Empire in a matter of days.

Lilith Winter Clouds always acted subtly—but her methods were lethally effective.

“That’s true.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Yet even knowing all this, Meredia’s lips curled upward in a slow, confident smile.

“As Your Majesty’s loyal subject, it would be improper to disobey you any further.”

“...You don’t mean—”

The Emperor, sensing something off, frowned for the first time as Meredia raised her arm high.

“Then please, everyone, take a good look with your own eyes.”

At that moment, the handkerchief tied around her hand unraveled—revealing her pale, smooth skin beneath.

“See for yourselves whether there’s a single mark on the back of my hand.”

And indeed, just as she claimed, there wasn’t even the faintest scratch. It was spotless.

“If your eyes are working properly, it should be clear.”

“Hah... haha...”

The Emperor, stunned along with everyone else, let out a hollow laugh and muttered under her breath.

“Well, looks like...”

And at that exact moment—amidst the lingering mist, with the faintest hint of a smug smile—

“...I just got played. Hard.”

Staring directly at the young man who now looked so eerily similar to herself.

“Oh dear. That little fox.”

Of course, Whitney—having released the sealing spell on himself and now trembling on weak legs—was completely unaware of that exchange.

...So, uh. Is it over?

Either way, it had been a hard-earned victory—one crafted by him and Meredia together.

***

“AAAGH! You dumb bastards! Isn’t it obvious just by looking?! That slimy bastard’s the real culprit!!!”

“...Throw her in the underground dungeon. Just in case. She might be useful later.”

“Y-you son of a bitch!! Even if I die, I’ll make sure you—urgh!”

And with that, the black mage—deemed deranged beyond recovery by the influence of “benevolent” magic—was subdued once again by the mana shock collar and dragged out of the garden. The commotion, at last, came to an anticlimactic end.

“Well then... back to the matter at hand.”

The long-delayed merit awards ceremony resumed at a surprisingly brisk pace.

“Regarding the rewards... Sir Whitney, I’ll grant you the key to the Imperial Treasury’s highest vault.”

“...An honor, Your Majesty.”

“You may choose one item from it within the year. Consider it proper compensation for your devotion... probably.”

In stark contrast to the earlier chaos, the Emperor now spoke with an exhausted tone, slumped in her throne as Whitney knelt before her. She waved her hand lazily.

“Well then. That concludes the awards—”

“Your Majesty. I believe you’ve yet to address my reward.”

Meredia’s sharp voice cut in. The Emperor glanced at her with mild annoyance before sighing and adding reluctantly:

“...Fine. Then Sir Whitney may take two items from the vault.”

“And how exactly is that a reward for me?”

“Are you really asking that after what you just pulled?”

At that, Meredia momentarily froze, at a loss for words, while the Emperor faintly curled her lips and looked at Whitney again.

“Who would’ve thought the Lady would actually be interested in something even the young noble girls won’t touch anymore—an old Emperor’s affections...”

“...What do you take us for?”

“I told you. I see you as one of my kind. Haah... and I’m almost thirty without ever having a proper relationship.”

Meredia furrowed her brows at the comment, her expression cold—but no words followed.

“Well, since you’re not denying it, I suppose tomorrow’s Imperial Times will be quite the read.”

The Emperor, watching her with exaggerated disbelief, then waved again, her tone turning final.

“Everyone may leave. I’ll be staying here in the garden for a bit, enjoying the sunlight...”

And so, the tumultuous merit awards ceremony finally came to a close. The ministers, faces blank or dazed, quickly dispersed from the garden like fleeing animals.

“Lady Meredia, shall we... slip out as well?”

Amid the scattering «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» crowd, Whitney—who had been all ears the whole time—stepped forward and extended his hand to the lady in front of him, murmuring gently.

“...Sir Whitney, your chance has not yet passed.”

And just as the last of the quick-footed ministers vanished, the Emperor’s voice echoed softly in the now-empty garden.

“You’re someone who belongs in the shadows, not under the sun.”

“Hah, seriously...”

***

Meredia’s eyes immediately lit with fire, a cold aura beginning to build again.

But—

“Pardon me, Your Majesty.”

Whitney beat her to it, reaching out and gently grasping her hand as he replied softly.

“I’m not some shadowy mastermind. I’m just the live-in son-in-law.”

Naturally, he said this while still wearing that shameless crescent-eyed grin.

“Well then—may your days be full of peace.”

As the Emperor fell silent, Whitney gave her a bow, then quickly tugged Meredia’s hand and strode away from the garden.

“Haha, Lady Meredia. Did I do well today?”

“......”

“Wait... are you ignoring me again?”

And soon, like his fading voice, silence fell upon the garden once more.

“...I’m pretty sure I said I wanted to rest alone.”

The Emperor, who had remained seated quietly, finally broke the silence, her displeasure showing as she sensed someone nearby.

“Your Majesty, the thing is...”

“...Tch.”

She scowled sharply as she saw the black mage being brought back—the one who was supposed to be in the underground prison.

“Post guards around the garden. Not even a rat gets in.”

“K-kuh...”

The black mage, who had previously been raging, now gasped for breath, pale and trembling.

“P-please... help...”

She looked just like that other black mage—the black mage who had poisoned Whitney’s tea and triggered his regression. The one Meredia had secretly caught.

Writhing in pain, her body gradually freezing up, the Emperor stared down at her with cold indifference.

“Oh, you.”

Sigh.

“Must you really show yourself in such an open place?”

As the girl abruptly stood up, eyes now pitch-black, the Emperor sighed and spoke again.

“Next time, think about my reputation before you possess someone.”

“......”

“Can you imagine the scandal if word got out that the Emperor was communicating directly with the leader of the black mages?”

The black mage—now visibly possessed—stared back without flinching. Then, in a splintering voice wholly unlike before, she answered:

“That’s not my problem, Emperor.”

In that instant, the restraints on her body cracked and shattered, clattering to the floor.

“If anything, I should be the one angry with you.”

“......”

“This whole operation? It was a waste. I went through the trouble of sparing one black mage for you.”

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As the figure stepped forward with a twisted smile, the Emperor’s narrowed eyes grew even thinner.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to overcome your only weakness and survive?”

The presence leaned in close, now standing just before the Emperor, and whispered coldly.

The Emperor’s expression darkened with blatant irritation.

“...Well. What can I say? There was a variable.”

“Variable?”

“I could deal with Meredia—she’s got similar patterns to me—but...”

She sighed, shrugging off responsibility.

“My spell didn’t work on Sir Whitney.”

“The one inside him, you mean...”

The mysterious figure drew back slightly, the killing intent fading as they looked intrigued.

“Very well.”

And then, taking a step back, they spoke again:

“Next time, I’ll come myself.”

With those words, the presence slipped out of the black mage’s body like smoke, vanishing.

“So, the leader of the black mages is finally starting to show their hand...”

The now-empty-eyed black mage collapsed to the ground, limp. The Emperor looked down at her quietly, then—

“Fufu. At this point...”

A chilling smile spread across her face as she murmured.

“You’re making me really want to steal that pawn of yours, Sir Whitney.”

Her eyes, now wide open, gleamed darkly in the midday light.

***

“Ugh...?”

Just as I was exiting the Imperial Palace grounds with Lady Meredia, I suddenly shuddered at a wave of icy cold that ran down my spine, stopping in my tracks.

“Excuse me, but... we did make it out of the garden, right?”

“...If we’re out, then we’re out.”

“Whew, thank god.”

At her reply, I finally opened my eyes, scanning the area around us as I mumbled to myself in relief.

Good thing I shut my eyes right away—any longer and I might’ve been caught in some sort of binding.

The Emperor’s unique ability was always left as a vague MacGuffin in the game, like the other major characters, but among players, there was a well-supported theory about it.

And for good reason. Every time something absurdly coincidental happened around Lilith Winter Clouds, one detail was always mentioned: her eyes had opened ever so slightly. That little tidbit? Hidden in plain sight on the game’s loading screen tips.

So, the moment I saw the Emperor’s eyes open fully, I’d reflexively slammed mine shut—and looking back on it, that had been a very solid call.

Sometimes these thin, crescent eyes really come in handy.

Having been mistaken one too many times for being asleep or scheming because of them, it was oddly satisfying to see them finally proving useful in a situation like this.

“Whitney Ringaarden.”

I was still lost in thought, scratching my head absentmindedly, when—

“Let’s talk. Now.”

Lady Meredia suddenly stopped walking, pulled her hand from mine, and turned to face me with a voice as cold as ice.

“Ah, of course... Huh?”

By now, I was more or less used to her sharp tone, so I met her with my usual easygoing smile. But then I looked at her face.

“...Why?”

And immediately, I went quiet.

“What’s the real reason you’re doing all this to me?”

The emotion on her face wasn’t irritation. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even the guarded suspicion she usually wore like armor.

“What do you want from me, that you’d go this far?”

No, what I saw in her expression was clear. So clear it stunned me.

An unmistakable fear. And deep, trembling unease.