Chapter 280: Demon queen should die

"The public must witness the terror of an unrefined evolution," Celestine explained smoothly. "The panic will force the imperial council into frantic, desperate decrees. So we can go deeper with The Substance."

"And as for our tragic Empress Rosalie... the Emperor already struck a quiet understanding with me. If we remove that stubborn, archaic thorn from his court in a manner so humiliating, so thoroughly disgraceful that it strips the last remnants of her ancestral bloodline of their dignity, Cassian has promised to turn a blind eye and let The Substance flow entirely unrestricted through the empire."

"Then what is stalling the operation?" the Valdoran noble asked, throwing his arms behind his head. "If the stage is set, why are we sitting in a drafty ruin whispering to ghosts?"

"The complication," Cedric spoke up, his voice turning deadly cold, "is Eren Volsver."

The name hung in the damp chamber like an ill omen.

Cedric’s jaw clenched, his pride visibly bruising as he continued. "Ever since that stalker somehow wheedled his way into an engagement with my foolish twin sister, the board has been sliding out of alignment. Aria dragged him directly into Seraphina’s circle. And the very moment Volsver began loitering around her, the palace maid responsible for slowly dosing the Empress’s nightly draught vanished without a trace."

Cedric leaned across the table, his golden eyes burning. "He is scheming behind closed doors, planning that Aria will replace me as the heir to the Reedings Dukedom. More than that... I have growing suspicions that the bastard knows far more about The Substance’s composition than any backwater noble ever should."

The tall Regulus noble stiffened in his seat. "Volsver? The eldest son of Duke Alfric who we failed to assassinate months ago?"

"The very same," Cedric sneered. "Alfric’s assassination was calculated for years, and yet we failed. It’s the same time as Eren changed his behaviour."

Cedric’s gaze locked onto Celestine, then turned toward Whisper.

"We stick to the timetable," Cedric declared, his voice slicing through the stillness of the abandoned fortress.

"We proceed with the public awakening of Violet Lavenza at the Carnival. We eliminate Duke Alfric to remove the headache. And as per the urgent request sent from our demon counterparts within the Syndicate... we hunt down and execute the Demon Queen currently lurking in disguise within the academy."

****

East of the Regulas, the Reodeo County territory.

Reedings family’s remote estate.

The morning sun hung high and bright, bathing the sprawling manicured lawns in a warm, golden radiance. Under the broad canopy of a heavily tasseled linen umbrella near the edge of the courtyard, Norelia reclined deeply into an oversized, plush wicker armchair, crossing her small bare feet while taking an idle sip of chilled, freshly pressed melon juice through a glass straw.

A thick, leather-bound novel rested on her lap, yet her focus was repeatedly shattered by the breathless, stifled giggles of the manor’s maid staff clustered along the terrace colonnade.

"Gracious heavens... look at the definition on his back..."

"Is that Lord Volsver? Our lady’s fiancé? He looks entirely different from the rumors in the capital..."

"Quiet down, the little lady will hear you!"

Norelia let out a flat, irritated sigh, lowering the heavy book to see the cause of the commotion.

Out in the center of the dusty training grounds, an incorrigible idiot was hanging from an iron pull-up bar, utterly indifferent to the stir he was causing.

Eren was completely shirtless.

His lean, corded muscle rippled with devastating power with every steady, controlled ascent. Sunlight gleamed off the light sheen of sweat coating his toned body.

Thanks to Norelia’s illusion charm layered over his skin, the scar marks carved across his chest were smoothly concealed from mortal sight. But her spell did absolutely nothing to disguise the absurd, heart-stopping physique underneath.

In fact, it only seemed to drive the local staff completely mad.

Norelia took another long, aggressive drag from her straw, her red eyes narrowing in unimpressed.

"Shameless show-off," she muttered under her breath, turning a page with far more force than necessary.

With a final slow pull that brought his chin cleanly over the iron rod, Eren dropped back down to the dusty earth.

He landed on his bare feet with a silent thud, his chest heaving in steady, rhythmic rasps as steam seemed to roll off his sunlit shoulders. Tossing his tousled black hair back from his forehead, he casually walked across the lawn toward the striped canopy, completely deaf to the chorus of scandalized, fluttering gasps erupting from the colonnade behind him.

"Fascinating reading material this morning, Professor?" Eren asked, his voice low and delightfully raspy from exertion.

He snatched the towel from the small wicker table beside her, tossing it over the back of his neck and dragging both ends down his damp torso to wipe away the sheen of sweat.

Norelia didn’t so much as glance up from the page. "It is an intricate cultural case study."

"Right. Case studies," Eren chuckled, leaning over her chair. "Is that why the male lead in Chapter four is currently pinning the duchess against an ancestral armoire while tearing off her bodice with his teeth? Looks remarkably smutty to me."

"It is high-tier romantic realism, you heathen, and it is none of your business," Norelia snapped flatly, her ears glowing a furious red as she aggressively flicked to the next page.

Her slender hand reached blindly toward the table to retrieve her half-empty glass of juice—only for her fingers to grasp empty air.

Frowning, she looked up, her red eyes narrowing into two murderous points.

Eren was leaning casually against the wicker table, the glass tipped back against his lips as he drained the juice in several greedy gulps.

"Ah... perfection," Eren sighed, lowering the empty glass with a theatrical clink of the ice cubes. "Nothing cures morning dehydration quite like high-end provincial fruit pressed with royal privilege."

"You thieving, shameless mongrel!"

Norelia snarled, the book snapping shut in her hands before she hurled it squarely at his grinning face.

Eren caught the projectile cleanly out of the air barely two inches from his nose. He tucked the thick book under his arm with a wink. "First come, first served, Professor."

"Die! Just die, you arrogant parasite!"

Norelia scrambled out of the deep armchair as she launched herself forward. She began furiously pummeling his rock-hard chest with her harmless fists, cursing him in three ancient dialects. Eren merely laughed beneath her knuckles as he let her vent her outrage, not moving an inch under the barrage of tiny, flustered blows.

"Starting your domestic violence early in the morning?"

A sharp, husky voice cut cleanly through their chaotic banter.

Eren and Norelia paused mid-grapple, both turning toward the stone pathway leading from the eastern wing.

Strolling toward them was the empire’s finest Swordmaster, looking like an absolute goddess carved from bronze. Emma wore fitted black sports trousers that hugged the dangerous, athletic curve of her thighs, paired with a snug grey crop top that left her taut, tanned sculpted shoulders completely bare.

Eren’s lips instantly curved into an affectionate, devastatingly warm smile, completely ignoring Norelia still tugging at his waistband.