A Complicated King
1096 Words
"Princess Isabella, this will be your first practical lesson..."
"I will voluntarily plead guilty in court… You don’t need to know what crime, I’ll just make something up. Your role is to punish me—dock my salary, demote my rank, whatever you see fit."
"Why? Well… Because this is balance."
"I am a powerful minister. Many nobles and officials align themselves with me, while others lean toward… let's call them the 'Conservative Nobility Faction.' Meanwhile, my side will be known as the 'Ira Faction'."
"My influence is too great, so you must suppress me. And vice versa."
"When you punish me publicly, and I accept it willingly, everyone will understand that I remain loyal to you. In this way, the authority of the royal family will continue to strengthen."
"You don’t understand? That’s fine. Any doubts? I'll explain them to you slowly."
"You’re saying you trust that I won’t betray the empire, so there’s no need to suppress me? I know that. And I trust that you trust me. But that’s not how this works…"
"Because this is the royal court. These are the rules between a king and their ministers."
...
"Hmm..."
With a soft murmur, Isabella awoke from her slumber, recalling memories from long ago. She looked at Marilla, sitting across from her, then at the guards who had stayed to protect her while she slept in the study.
"How long was I asleep?"
Although she asked, Isabella knew it couldn’t have been long. As an emperor, she was always under pressure—something unseen but always present. Since Ira’s departure, she had barely had a proper night’s rest.
But of course, she would never admit that.
"Half an hour, Your Majesty."
Isabella gently rubbed the marks on her arm left from resting her face against it. Nodding to her guards, she ordered, "You may all leave."
Without question, the guards obeyed, filing out in perfect order. The study was now empty except for Isabella and Marilla.
"…Anything you wish to ask?"
At Isabella’s invitation, Marilla—who never truly cared much for formalities—nodded slightly and asked, "Is the rumor true?"
Marilla was referring to the rumor that Isabella and Ira had secretly planned everything.
"No."
Isabella denied it plainly, shaking her head. She looked at Marilla and continued, "If it were true, the more extreme members of the Ira faction would have defected from the empire. This way, things remain in balance."
In other words, was Isabella the one spreading the rumor?
"Of course, if that rumor were the truth, I’d rather that be the case."
She spoke with a speech pattern eerily reminiscent of Ira’s, but there was no second Ira in the world—no one who could instantly grasp her meaning. Seeing Marilla’s puzzled expression, Isabella merely shook her head.
"Leave me. Let the guards back in, and summon Minister Caligula. I need to discuss the slave trade with him."
Marilla hesitated before asking, "Your Majesty, are you planning to abolish the slave-hunting teams? Minister Caligula will never agree to that."
Duke Caligula—one of the leading figures of the noble faction and a staunch supporter of the empire’s slave trade—was someone Ira had desperately wanted to kill. And yet, aside from being greedy, lustful, and obsessed with noble privileges, he was loyal to the empire and the monarchy. He had never taken a concubine and was devoted to his wife.
Every time, Ira would sigh at the strange logic of the empire.
But no one ever knew what exactly he was sighing about.
"…You mean to stop capturing foreign slaves, correct?"
Under Isabella’s calm gaze, Marilla understood immediately. A wave of complex emotions swept over her, but she refrained from passing judgment. Instead, she simply said, "Ira will be furious. Absolutely furious."
Both of them knew this was true.
"Everyone says the same thing—‘Ira this, Ira that’—as if without him, I am completely useless!"
Isabella’s frustration was evident, but she quickly forced herself to maintain her composure. Her expression once again became unreadable. "Let him be angry. If he wants to kill me, let him try."
Perhaps… Isabella’s irritation stemmed from something much simpler.
"If one day Ira marches his army into the imperial capital, then so be it. If he crushes me beneath his feet, I won’t resist."
For the first time, Isabella spoke her true thoughts aloud.
"Father and I waited for so long… But Ira followed the rules too strictly."
Either he should trample me beneath his feet, force me to kiss his fingers, and march forward full of confidence in his ideals—
Or he should fully submit, instead of always taking that ‘I know I’m right, so I must convince you’ stance.
Either would be fine.
But that humble arrogance of his… That was the most unbearable thing of all.
"Of course, if he fails to defeat me~"
Isabella smiled playfully, slipping her foot out of her shoe and waving her dainty, snow-white toes in the air.
"Then I will trample him beneath my feet and prove that I have grown up."
Her pale little foot dangled like an enticing piece of confectionery.
"And then, I will give him a hug and tell him…"
Her voice was light with anticipation, a victorious monarch basking in imagined triumph.
"Welcome back to the empire. I have cleansed it of all its filth for you!"
Then… Ira would finally acknowledge her.
He would call her by name—not "Princess Isabella."
He wouldn’t say, "A ruler must remain calm. Maintain your composure. You can do better."
Instead, he would finally say…
"Well done, Isabella."
...
As Marilla left the study, only one figure remained in the vast chamber—
A sovereign standing above all.
A rebellious and arrogant student.
A child yearning for a particular person's approval.
A sensitive girl longing for guidance.
But they were not four different people.
They were one and the same.
(Just for Fun - Bonus Scene)
Isabella: "I will prove myself! If you have the ability… then shatter my dignity and confidence!"
Ira: "Then as you wish! By the way, if I had been captured back then, what would you have done to me?"
Isabella: "Imprison you."
Ira: "Ah… Wait, what?"
Isabella: "Imprison you. In my bedroom."
Ira: "…"
Ira: "Hold on, I thought you were doing all this for the empire?! So this was just to earn my approval? That’s not something a true ruler—"
Isabella: "Shut up! Stupid straight man, go die!"
- Writer
