The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 153: Aldric pt 1

Aldric reached them properly then, and Eris got her first clear look at Soren’s secretary and closest advisor.

He was younger than she’d expected, perhaps in his late twenties, with dark hair that looked like it might have been neatly styled at some point earlier in the day but had since given up on the concept.

His clothing was impeccable, tailored in the severe style of Nevareth’s administrative class, but there was something about the set of his shoulders that suggested exhaustion being held at bay through sheer force of will.

His eyes, when they landed on her, were sharp, assessing, and held something that Eris recognized immediately because she’d seen it countless times throughout her reign.

Disdain.

Subtle, yes. Carefully concealed beneath the appropriate veneer of court manners. But unmistakably there, lurking behind the professional courtesy like ice beneath deceptively calm water.

He didn’t trust her. Didn’t like her. And wasn’t nearly as good at hiding it as he thought he was.

Interesting.

Aldric bowed, the gesture technically correct but somehow conveying his reservations through sheer precision. "Lady Eris. Please accept my apologies for Bjorn’s... exuberance. He is not typically so forward with strangers."

"How reassuring," Eris replied, her tone perfectly polite and completely devoid of warmth. Two could play the game of courteous hostility. "Though I suppose there’s a first time for everything."

Something flickered in Aldric’s expression, acknowledgment perhaps that she’d caught his true feelings and chosen to reflect them back. The moment passed quickly, his professional mask sliding firmly back into place as he turned to greet his Emperor.

"Your Majesty. Welcome home."

The formality of it made Soren wince slightly. "Aldric, you look ridiculous trying to be formal with me. Stop it."

"Protocols must be observed, Your Majesty, particularly in the presence of—" Aldric caught himself, edited whatever he’d been about to say, "—guests."

"How have you been?" Soren asked, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the tension. "You look tired."

Aldric’s eye twitched.

It was a small thing, barely noticeable, just the faintest spasm of the muscle beneath his left eye. But it spoke volumes about the man’s current state of mind and his feelings regarding his Emperor’s concern for his well-being.

"What do you THINK, Your Majesty?" The words came out remarkably even considering the murder radiating from every syllable. "You departed for Solmire, ostensibly for a brief diplomatic visit, and left me to manage the entirety of your workload. Alone. For weeks."

He began ticking items off on his fingers, his voice growing incrementally tighter with each one.

"Trade negotiations with the southern provinces, which you were supposed to oversee personally. Winter supply distributions for the northern reaches, which required your seal on seventeen separate documents. Noble disputes, including that mess with House Valerian and House Kristoff that you promised to mediate. Military reports that have been piling up because only you have clearance to review certain strategic documents. Budget reviews for the next fiscal year. Court petitions, of which there are currently three hundred and forty-seven requiring your personal attention. And diplomatic correspondence from literally every neighboring kingdom wondering where their Emperor has vanished to and whether Nevareth is experiencing a political crisis."

He took a breath, and if looks could kill, Soren would have been frozen solid and shattered.

"So to answer your question, Your Majesty, I have been spectacular."

The sarcasm was so thick it could have been carved into ice sculptures.

Eris found herself fighting back a smile. She’d had advisors like Aldric, people who were competent enough to keep kingdoms running but perpetually exasperated by the monarchs they served. There was something almost endearing about it, the way he stood there radiating exhausted fury while maintaining perfect professional courtesy.

Soren, for his part, had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "I was only gone for—"

"Seventeen days," Aldric interrupted. "Not that I was counting. Not that I had literally anything else to do except count the days and desperately hope my Emperor would remember he has an empire to run."

"I’m sure it wasn’t that bad."

The eye twitched again.

"Your Majesty," Aldric said, voice dropping to something that might have been mistaken for calm if one ignored the homicidal undertones, "I have not slept more than four hours a night since you left. I have personally reviewed every document, attended every meeting, made every decision that didn’t technically require your physical presence, and have been surviving on coffee, spite, and the desperate hope that you would eventually remember your responsibilities."

"Well," Soren said brightly, apparently deciding that obliviousness was his best defense, "I’m here now. Things will get better."

"I sure HOPE so," Aldric replied, the words dripping with skepticism so profound it could have flooded the palace.

Eris decided she’d had enough. The drama was entertaining, certainly, but the day had been long, the confrontation with Vetra had taken more energy than she’d anticipated, and the floor was still slightly cold from where she’d been tackled by an overgrown puppy with attachment issues.

"I’m tired," she announced, cutting through whatever Soren had been about to say. "And I need to rest."

The effect was immediate. Soren’s attention snapped to her with the kind of focus that suggested everything else had just ceased to exist. The teasing expression vanished, replaced by genuine concern.

"Of course," he said immediately. "I apologize, I should have realized. Aldric, please oversee preparations for tonight’s welcome feast. Nothing too elaborate, but ensure the kitchens know to avoid anything with fire-spice. The heating should be comfortable but not overwhelming. And have the musicians prepare something instrumental, nothing too loud or demanding."

He rattled off instructions with the ease of someone who had done this countless times, his entire bearing shifting from playful to imperial in the space of a breath.

Aldric bowed, his professional mask firmly in place despite the exhaustion clinging to him like frost. "As you command, Your Majesty."

"Good. We’ll discuss the accumulated disasters tomorrow morning. Early."

"I’ll prepare the documents," Aldric said, though his tone suggested he was also preparing several strongly worded speeches about responsibility and delegation.

With that settled, Soren turned back to Eris, offering his arm with a gesture that was both courteous and possessive. "Shall we?"