Chapter 132: The Irritated Old Bro Emerges
The voices outside the courtyard grew increasingly closer.
Victoria shot Bart a cold glare for a moment, then turned to Rect and said, “Stop them outside.”
Rect nodded, turned, and marched toward the door.
He pulled out a whistle-like thing that somewhat resembled a bird from his waist pouch and popped it into his mouth just as he stepped outside.
A short chirp followed by a longer, melodious twitter rang out. Almost immediately, a soft breeze wafted through the window.
Someone whooshed down from the roof, and judging by the sound, there were at least three of them. Shadowy figures flitted by the window with incredible speed, but I caught a glimpse of the shiny sword emblem on their shoulders.
A smirk crept onto my face.
What was that nonsense about “The Sword of Kanli isn’t just any guard; they are warriors of Ethanbel”? Tch, hypocritical politicians!
Soon enough, shouts erupted outside.
“Her Majesty the Queen is in a crucial meeting; you cannot go in!”
“What does that mean?!”
“The Sword of Kanli! How dare you block the royal family! Have you forgotten the glory and duty of a warrior?!”
“Step aside!”
“Following orders. Sorry, Your Highness.” That was Rect’s voice.
“d*mn it… you have no right! Even your Queen must respectfully call me ‘uncle’ when she sees me!”
“Viki—!” a woman screeched, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Let us in; your aunt has something to say!”
Inside, Victoria remained calm and unperturbed.
Bart’s face, shadowed, slightly revealed an upward twitch of his lips.
“Your Majesty…” he started thoughtfully, “It’s true that over the years, the lower-class citizens of Ethanbel have complained a lot, and I understand your eagerness to change the status quo. But employing such radical methods only complicates what could be a simple matter. You see, the Clive Family—those nobles who have worked tirelessly for Ethanbel, your uncles, aunts, other royal members, even your mother… our interests are all intertwined. Why must you do something to… make everyone unhappy?”
He spoke earnestly, adopting a lecturing tone toward the younger generation.
“You’re still young. You don’t understand many things; it’s normal to make mistakes, and we can all understand that. However, this matter… cannot be handled this way; it will put us all in a difficult position. Your uncles, your mother, and other royal nobles have always discussed matters directly with the Minister of Finance, but the treasury manager’s decree effectively strips the Minister of his authority over funds, which is quite troubling… If this is implemented, guess who’s going to be in the most trouble? You, of course… You’re smart; you surely understand this, right?”
Bart’s heartfelt persuasion earned a mere patient listening from Victoria, who nodded gravely once he finished speaking.
“True enough.”
She extended her left hand, palm up, raising her long, delicate fingers as if admiring some rare treasure, flipping them back and forth.
After quite some time, she finally spoke: “But the treasury in the royal city is tight; the remaining Cankira Gold amounts to less than ten million. A vast Ethanbel seems prosperous but is actually drowning in debt. The interest owed to the Currency Exchange is already over a million each year… Commander Bart, what do you suggest?”
Victoria seemed to be softening.
Upon hearing this, Bart, overly excited, forgot his decorum and shot his head up.
“Your Majesty! If you’re willing to listen, I have a brilliant idea.”
“Go on.”
I furrowed my brow, turning my attention to Victoria’s flawless profile.
She naturally ignored me.
Bart, confidently speaking, said, “Actually… this issue can be easily resolved. Your Majesty, think about it. For decades now, since the Rose War, Ethanbel has been peaceful. No wars, no suffering—even those monsters from the Abyss have never come here! The people live and work in peace, maybe a bit too cozy.”
“But those are the commoners. Once they get too comfortable, they’re bound to have ideas of their own. If they start thinking, they’ll become a nuisance—we can’t let them have those thoughts! So, let’s simply increase their taxes, in every possible way, and burden them further. That way, the commoners won’t have time to think about anything else, just keep their heads down and work. With more taxes, the treasury’s reserves will naturally increase… See? Problem solved, what do you think?”
Bart looked at Victoria, expectantly.
“Hmm.”
Victoria lightly acknowledged, her demeanor almost indifferent.
Bart, unable to read the young queen’s mind, pondered for a moment before continuing to stoke the flames, “This is also good for the kingdom’s future development; it benefits us all! It not only resolves the fiscal crunch but also effectively curbs commoners from doing stupid things—two birds with one stone, a perfect solution! Why wouldn’t we want this, right?”
Victoria contemplated for a moment… then slowly nodded.
“Sounds decent,” she said.
I blinked, utterly incredulous.
Victoria remained unflinching, her stunning golden eyes betraying no emotion.
“This plan… it wasn’t yours, was it?” she asked softly, like a lifeless puppet.
“Haha!” Bart chuckled awkwardly, “I lack that brain… to be honest, this was actually the result of discussions between Duke Lex and your mother.”
“Is that so…”
Victoria slightly lifted her head, her silky blond hair tumbling down her shoulder, chaotically draping over the sofa.
Her gaze drifted off, as if fogged by a haze, murmuring, “Where there’s oppression, there’s resistance… What if they raise their knives… what do we do then?”
“Your Majesty, you overestimate the commoners. Resistance? Do they dare?” Bart scoffed, casually chuckling, “They don’t dare. After living too comfortably, they’ve long forgotten how to wield a weapon. But our Iron Guard is strong and well-equipped; if some clueless folks do decide to rise up, it’s just a matter of killing a few—frankly, I’d welcome that situation so we could take out a bunch and the remaining commoners would fall in line.”
“Your Majesty, you must understand—we… you are the rule-maker, a noble entity. They’re merely lowly commoners, and whatever we give them, they must accept.”
Saying this, Bart turned his gaze to me.
“I’m sure this noble Miss understands the charm of this situation, right?”
…He seemed a bit too happy, as if he was joking with me.
Perhaps he thought that since I was part of the Valen Empire royalty, I’d surely grasp his line of thinking.
Nobles exploiting commoners. Just the way of the world, right?
Oh, for the love of Momma Li.
I can tolerate you breaking my front door, staining my carpet, or bringing a whole troop of like-minded folk to throw a tantrum in my courtyard.
All minor annoyances. I’m not from Ethanbel and don’t care to be entangled in their affairs.
But now, I just want to hit someone.
Some people, just because they have a slightly better birth, think themselves superior, trampling others like cattle while enjoying the fruits of exploitation.
Suppressing my fury, I turned to the icy beauty, Victoria, once more.
“Victoria,” I called her name softly.
I was hoping to see shock, anger, or disbelief cross her face.
Didn’t happen.
Victoria remained calm, still maintaining that unflappable demeanor, making it impossible to decipher her true feelings.
The voices outside grew louder.
I felt irritable, considering whether to politely escort them out or simply lay down the law. At that moment, Victoria spoke again.
“Let them in.”
Bart’s face lit up, “Yes! Your Majesty!”
He quickly stepped out the door, leaving just the two of us in the vast living room.
Victoria lifted her glass once more. This time, instead of sipping like before, she tilted back her head and downed the remaining wine in one go.
“Victoria,” I said coldly, “I have no right to interfere and understand your predicament.”
“But if you cave in, I will look down on you.”
Victoria merely glanced at me indifferently, not responding.
Soon after, Bart returned, leading in a few elegantly dressed individuals, and as soon as the portly middle-aged man at the front entered, he started bellowing.
“Viki, you sure know how to throw a fit! Keeping your uncle outside for so long—what’s that all about, huh?!”
The well-dressed lady beside him quickly chimed in, “You should say less…”
But the middle-aged man was undeterred, puffing up his belly as he bellowed, “As Queen, you’re acting recklessly! Pissing off the Clive Family brings no benefits to our royal family! Immediately retract the decree!”
“Your Highness, please calm down,” Bart hurriedly interjected, “After our earlier conversation, I think Her Majesty has already understood the stakes, right? Young people make mistakes just like her father, our esteemed late king. It’s okay—if she can amend it, that’s a good thing… How about you and your uncle have a good chat, Your Majesty?”
Victoria lowered her glass.
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
Her expression was as frosty as if cloaked in a layer of frost as she stepped forward and took two strides toward Bart.
“Your Majesty, you—”
Before he could finish, Victoria swiftly grabbed his breastplate.
Swoosh!
Her delicate fist, cutting through the air with a biting whoosh, smashed into Bart’s utterly astonished face as all eyes went wide.
Bang!
Crashtastic—!
A fierce gust overturned tables and chairs. Even Rect’s hair whipped wildly, and everyone’s faces contorted in shock.
Crack.
A resounding snap echoed from Bart’s face as his nose broke.
He flew backward with a whoosh, hitting the wall behind him and slowly sliding to the ground, head hanging low, utterly speechless.
Silence ensued in the mansion.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Bright red bl**d gushed from Bart’s cheek, staining the carpet below.
