Two-Faced Princess - Chapter 284

“When you ascend to the throne, no noble in the capital will have a reason to oppose you. The only reason they dare to voice their complaints now is because they perceive me as a temporary Emperor.”

“Yes, Father.”

“But don’t think for a moment that they are truly loyal to you. Some cunning nobles are keenly waiting for an opportunity to bring you down and elevate Kaelion to the throne.”

“Whoever it may be, I will ensure they cannot oppose me,” Paris replied, his voice strengthening. He was slightly trembling with excitement.

“Fear alone is not enough. You must make allies among the nobles, including those who follow Ephinhart,” The Emperor paused before adding softly, “You must not miss anyone who can be a strong ally, no matter what.”

Paris slowly nodded. He was still struggling to control his excitement and tension.

“It’s true that your position is precarious because of that upstart. So, forming and keeping allies is more important than anything,” the Emperor emphasized once more.

“Until your coronation, act cautiously. Make sure everyone trusts you and recognizes your authority.”

“I will keep that in mind, Father,” Paris replied, looking at the Emperor who was gently patting his shoulder. Paris wore a touched smile.

“I won’t miss a single person who can be my ally,” Paris affirmed.

The Emperor smiled, seemingly pleased.

“Prepare for the coronation soon. I will announce.”

“Should we entrust this to the House of Lipper?”

Upon hearing Paris’s question, the Emperor’s face slightly stiffened.

“No, I no longer find it appropriate to entrust important matters to the House of Lipper.”

Paris tilted his head in confusion. He was aware that the relationship between the Emperor and the House of Lipper had recently soured, but no one else could replace Petra Lipper in this regard. However, the Emperor was resolute.

“Petra has become corrupt. Her capabilities are not what they once were. Her belief that there is no one to replace her has made her arrogant and incompetent.”

“Then to whom should we…?” Paris thought of Seta, who had just moments before been in the Emperor’s arms. She was an imperial woman with whom he had little to no interaction. He had occasionally heard from confidants that the maid bore a resemblance to him; after showing displeasure once, he never heard such comments again. Traditionally, women close to the Emperor managed significant ceremonies, either the Empress or a favored consort. Seta was a woman whom the Emperor cherished. “Surely not to a mere maid?”

“Apolonia will do it.”

“Excuse me?” Paris asked, his face filled with astonishment. “Father, she knows nothing.”

“Of course, Morton, the chamberlain, will handle the actual work. However, the overall responsibility for royal ceremonies will no longer be outsourced. Each decision like this weakens the Emperor’s authority.” The Emperor’s eyes, which had been gentle moments ago, had turned cold. Paris chose not to argue further.

“Do as you wish, Father,” Paris said. His thoughts turned to his close friend and cousin, Gareth Lipper, and to Petra, who had never hesitated to offer advice to the Emperor since their youth. Paris remained seated on the throne, lost in thought after the Emperor had left the hall. The hall, as viewed from the throne, was splendid. Though currently empty, he felt a thrill imagining people coming and going, bowing to him. Even the nobles, the kings from other nations, and the despicable Caelion—along with his damned woman, Evangeline—would have to bow their heads. He would finally become the strongest man on the continent. “Do not overlook anyone who could be a strong ally for you.”

He recalled the advice the Emperor had given him just a moment ago: “Do not overlook anyone who could be a strong ally for you.” Who was he referring to? Who were the people he should now be concerned about? Paris began to mentally review a list of nobles loyal to him.

The House of Lipper, the House of Count Amon, the House of Count Bronel—these families were closely tied to him and he had no alternatives. In other words, they were already in the palm of his hand.

There was no reason to feed fish that were already caught; these families weren’t going anywhere even if he paid them no mind.

What about Nox Bayan, the commander of the Royal Knights? Although Paris didn’t like him—Nox surpassed his own skill in spearmanship—he wasn’t someone who would support Caelion. No common ground existed between them, whereas Petra had been providing significant financial support to Nox and his mother.

They were strong forces, but not strong enough to overpower Caelion. The Houses of Duke Trion and Duke Edwin, both of whom had recently grown closer to him, maintained formidable mercenary armies near the capital.

As he pondered various people, a man’s face suddenly flashed into his mind: a high-ranking noble with extensive territories, overflowing coffers, and a courageous mercenary force. Someone whose influence could tip the delicate balance between him and Caelion in a single moment.

Duke Portrus.

And along with that name came the memory of his eyes, burning with desire for Amoretta.

“What I desire is Amoretta,” his voice echoed in Paris’s ears, filled with thirst. What had he said when Paris had angrily declined?

“My offer will remain valid until your coronation, so take your time to consider it.”

Paris’s heart raced. There was no deceit in the predator-like gaze of Duke Portrus. Simultaneously flashing through his mind was the image of Amoretta, with her beautiful face and gem-like eyes full of love—and, most importantly, her value.

With his coronation not far off, Paris had much to consider.

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