The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 360: Work

Tables were overflowing with silk-wrapped boxes, jewelry cases, and rare southern spices. There were bolts of expensive fabrics, ornate daggers, and jars of preserved delicacies from the outer territories. It looked like a merchant’s warehouse had exploded in their living quarters.

Soren sat beside her, pulling a stray blanket over her legs. "While we were... occupied. The servants didn’t want to interrupt, so they just kept stacking them here."

Eris picked up a small, ivory box and set it back down. "They’re trying to buy favor. The vultures smell a change in the wind."

"Of course they are," Soren said, leaning back. "You’re Empress now. They need to know if the new sun is going to burn them or warm them." He leaned closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Should I be jealous? They’re showering my wife with enough gold to buy a small duchy."

Eris gave him a dry, flat look. "Yes, I’m sure a certain Duke or Marquis is madly in love with me. It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s proabaly terrified of you."

Soren’s grin turned a shade sharper. "If he is in love with you, I’ll end his bloodline."

Eris paused, looking at him. "You’re joking... right?"

Soren shrugged innocently, though the icy blue of his eyes didn’t dim. "Probably."

"Good," Eris sighed. "I’ll open them later. Right now, I just want the tea."

A sharp, rhythmic knock sounded at the door. "Your Majesties," a guard called through the heavy wood. "Jorel Draen of House Aetherion has returned from his assignment and requests an audience."

Soren sat up, his expression brightening. "Jorel? Finally!" He looked at Eris. "He’s been away for too long. Send him in!"

The door opened, and a man entered who looked as if he had been forged in the heart of a blizzard and then dragged through the mud. Jorel wore his usual dual swords strapped to his back, their hilts worn from use. His dark hair was matted with melting snow, and his sharp features were etched with the deep lines of exhaustion, yet his gaze remained a flickering fire of alertness.

He stopped several feet away and bowed formally, his voice raspy from the cold. "Your Majesty. Your Majesty." He looked at Eris, pausing for a fraction of a second as he recognized her from the imperial procession. He bowed deeper to her specifically. "Empress. It is an honor to serve you again."

Eris nodded, remembering the way he had stood before Soren at the duel of cinders. "Jorel. Welcome back."

Soren stood, crossing the room to clasp the man’s arm with a genuine grin. "You’re back. Finally. I was starting to worry the frost had claimed you." He gestured to a chair near the fire. "Sit. You look like you’ve been through hell."

"Close enough," Jorel admitted, sinking into the chair with a grateful sigh as the warmth of the fire hit his skin.

"What took so long?" Soren asked, leaning against the mantelpiece.

Jorel shook his head, pulling a waterproof travel pack from his shoulder. "Your assignment was thorough, Your Majesty. You wanted me to investigate Duke Viktor’s province and check the border security in the outer territories. The snow slowed the horses, but the corruption slowed me more."

"And?" Soren’s voice lost its playfulness, turning into the hard edge of a monarch.

"Viktor’s province first," Jorel said, his jaw tightening. "The financial records are a disaster, deliberately so. Tax collections from the mines and the timber yards don’t match the reports sent to the capital. The common folk are being bled dry, taxed for everything from their hearths to their livestock, but Viktor’s official coffers show less revenue than they should."

Eris leaned forward, her eyes sharp. "He’s embezzling and hiding it poorly. He’s skimming from the top and pocketing the difference before it ever reaches the Imperial Treasury."

Jorel looked at her, clearly impressed. "Exactly, Your Majesty. I spent days tracing the discrepancies. I spoke with merchants who were forced to pay double, tax collectors who were threatened into silence, and commoners who have nothing left to give."

He pulled a stack of leather-bound ledgers and parchment from his pack. "I brought proof. Real ledgers from the local bailiffs that don’t match the forgeries sent here. I also have witness testimonies from families willing to speak against him, provided they are given Imperial protection."

Soren took the documents, his fingers tracing the seals. A dark, satisfied energy radiated off him. "Excellent work, Jorel. This is exactly what we needed. Viktor’s embezzlement gives us the legal and moral grounds to move against him publicly. We won’t just displace him; we’ll dismantle him."

He looked back at the exhausted warrior. "You’ve done well. Rest today. Eat, sleep, and find a warm bath. Tomorrow at dawn, we hunt."

Jorel looked surprised. "Hunt, Your Majesty? In this weather?"

"The blizzard is coming," Soren said, looking toward the window. "We need to stock the winter reserves for the lower town before we’re trapped indoors for weeks. I’m leading the party myself. I want you, Ryse, and our best hunters. We leave at first light."

Jorel nodded, his exhaustion seemingly forgotten as the call of duty took hold. "Understood. I’ll be ready." He paused, looking a bit hesitant. "Your Majesty... I’m sorry I missed the wedding."

Soren waved a hand dismissively. "You were doing exactly what I asked. Don’t apologize for being loyal."

Jorel turned to Eris, bowing his head one last time. "Still. Congratulations, Your Majesty. His Majesty seems happy."

Eris felt a soft tug in her chest. "Thank you, Jorel."

The warrior stood, bowing to both of them before exiting the room.

Soren stretched, his muscles rippling under his shirt. "I should do security rounds before the snow gets too high. Make sure the stables are reinforced and the perimeter guards are rotated."

Eris looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. "Go. I have a mountain of gifts to sort through and a few letters of my own to write."

Soren leaned down, kissing her forehead with a tenderness that made her breath hitch. "Don’t overwork yourself, Eris."

"Says the man who kept me in bed for three days," she said drily.

Soren grinned, unapologetic and bright. "That was different. That was research."

"Go," she laughed, pushing him toward the door.

"I’ll be back soon," he promised, stealing one more quick, thorough kiss before he vanished into the hallway.