Summoner Online: I Became the Tutorial Boss with a 999+ Villainess-Chapter 100: A meeting with the king.

The Royal Capital of Throneguard was a city built to impress.

Towering marble walls lined the main road leading toward the palace, each one engraved with the sigils of the noble houses that had sworn fealty to the throne.

Enchanted statues of ancient warriors stood at every corner, their hollow eyes glowing faint blue as they tracked the movement of anyone who passed.

The streets were busy with merchants, soldiers, and civilians going about their day, most of them oblivious to the political chess game being played above their heads.

But today, something had disrupted the rhythm of the capital.

A carriage unlike anything the citizens had ever seen was rolling through the main boulevard.

It was black. Entirely, unnervingly black.

The frame was shaped like a skull, its hollow eye sockets serving as the windows on either side. Two curved horns rose from the roof, spiraling backward like the crown of a demon.

The wheels were wrapped in dark iron, and with every rotation, faint wisps of purple mana trailed behind them like smoke from a dying fire.

The creature pulling the carriage was no horse. It was a skeletal beast with glowing red eyes and bones reinforced with dark metal plating, its hooves striking the cobblestone with a sharp, rhythmic clang that echoed through the streets.

People stopped in their tracks.

Children hid behind their mothers.

Guards reached for their weapons but did not draw, because the carriage bore no hostile intent. It simply moved forward, slow and deliberate, as though it owned the road.

"What in the world is that thing?" a shopkeeper muttered, pressing himself against the wall of his store.

"Monsters," a guard whispered, his hand trembling on the hilt of his sword. "They are from the Jaun Land."

Word had already spread through the capital about the meeting.

The King had formally invited the Shadow of Victims to a discussion, and while most citizens expected a terrifying demon lord to arrive in person, none of them were prepared for the sheer theatricality of the carriage that Teraim had built.

Inside the skull-shaped cabin, Carlotta sat with her legs crossed, her red eyes half-closed in a state of calm that was entirely fabricated.

Her long black hair fell behind her shoulders, and her gothic dress, white above and black below, hugged her frame with the elegance of someone who had long since stopped caring about human opinions.

The black straps that decorated her gloves and boots gave her the appearance of a noblewoman from a land that worshipped the dark.

Seated across from her were three witches, lower-ranked subordinates from the dungeon who had been assigned to accompany her as an escort.

They were silent, their heads bowed, their hands folded neatly in their laps. None of them dared to speak unless spoken to.

Carlotta glanced out through the skull’s left eye socket, watching the humans scatter like insects as the carriage passed.

’Pathetic creatures. Every single one of them. The moment they see something they do not understand, they run. And these are the people my Lord wishes to negotiate with?’

She bit the inside of her cheek.

’No. I must not think like that. Lord Kai gave me specific instructions. Observe. Report. Do not agree to anything. Do not make promises. And above all, do not lose my composure.’

Her fingers tightened around the armrest.

’He also said I would receive a reward if I performed well.’

That single thought was enough to shift her entire mood. The irritation on her face melted into a soft, dreamy smile, and her cheeks flushed a faint pink.

’A reward from Lord Kai. Perhaps he will pat my head again. Or maybe something more. What if he lets me sleep in his bed? What if he holds my hand? What if he finally realizes that I am the perfect wife and proposes to me right there in the Throne Room in front of everyone?’

Her imagination spiraled completely out of control.

"Lady Carlotta," one of the witches called softly. "We have arrived."

Carlotta blinked, snapping out of her fantasy.

She looked through the eye socket again and saw the towering gates of the Royal Palace standing before them. A line of armored knights stood at the entrance, their spears crossed to form a barrier.

Their faces were tense. Some of them were visibly sweating despite the cool air.

’Good. They should be afraid.’

Carlotta straightened her posture, smoothed out her dress, and adopted the expression that Kai had drilled into her before she left.

She was not Carlotta the witch right now.

She was the representative of the Shadow of Victims.

The carriage came to a halt.

One of the witches opened the door from the inside, stepping out first to hold it open for Carlotta.

The moment the door swung wide, every knight at the gate took an involuntary step backward. The dark mana that leaked from the carriage’s interior washed over them like a cold wind, and several of them gripped their weapons tighter.

Carlotta stepped out.

Her boots touched the stone with a soft click, and she stood upright, her red eyes sweeping across the line of soldiers with the kind of disinterest a queen would show to ants crossing her path.

She said nothing.

She did not need to.

The captain of the guard, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running from his forehead to his chin, stepped forward. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his nerves.

"You are the envoy of the Shadow of Victims?"

"I am," Carlotta replied. Her voice was smooth, carrying a weight that made the air around her feel heavier.

"Carlotta, representative of Lord Kai, the Shadow of All Victims, Ruler of the Nameless Dungeon and Sovereign of the Jaun Land."

She paused, letting the title sink in.

"Your King requested this meeting. I suggest you do not keep me waiting."

The captain swallowed hard, then stepped aside and gestured toward the palace entrance.

"Follow me."

...

The interior of the Royal Palace was nothing short of grand.

Marble floors stretched from wall to wall, polished to such a degree that Carlotta could see her own reflection in them.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, each one enchanted to emit a warm, golden light that bathed the hallways in an almost divine glow.

Tapestries depicting the kingdom’s history lined the corridors. Great battles, coronations, the founding of the nation, all immortalized in thread and dye.

Carlotta spared none of it a second glance.

’Gaudy. Wasteful. My Lord’s Throne Room has more presence than this entire building, and it was built by skeletons.’

She walked with measured steps, her three witch escorts trailing behind her in a tight formation.

The knights assigned to guide them kept a healthy distance, none of them willing to walk too close to the monsters in their midst.

After several minutes of winding through corridors and ascending a wide staircase, they arrived at a pair of massive double doors, each one carved from dark wood and reinforced with golden hinges.

Two royal guards stood on either side, and upon receiving a nod from the captain, they pushed the doors open.

The room beyond was the Hall of Crowns.

Carlotta recognized it immediately for what it was.

A place where powerful people gathered to decide the fate of lesser ones.

The hall was circular, built from obsidian stone, with a curved table that wrapped around the center like a crescent moon.

Enchanted torches burned along the walls, their flames blue rather than orange, casting long shadows across the floor.

Seated at the far end of the table, elevated on a throne carved from what appeared to be bone, was King Desmond Altair the Third.

He looked exactly as one would expect a king to look.

Aged, imposing, and draped in royal blue armor lined with golden runes. His grey-streaked hair was slicked back, and his dark eyes watched Carlotta from the moment she stepped through the door.

To his right stood a young man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and an expression that could only be described as barely contained rage. He wore silver armor with a red cape, and a longsword hung at his hip.

The First Prince.

To the King’s left sat a young woman. She was the opposite of the prince in almost every way.

Her posture was relaxed, her expression calm, and her dark hair fell in waves over a simple but elegant dress. A thin circlet rested on her forehead.

The First Princess.

Several high-ranking knights were stationed around the perimeter of the room, their hands resting on their weapons. Not drawn, but ready.

Carlotta stopped at the center of the room, her escorts fanning out behind her.

She did not bow, neither did she kneel. She simply stood there with her arms at her sides and met the King’s gaze directly.

A silence filled the room that lasted several seconds too long.

It was the King who broke it.

"I must admit," Desmond began, his voice carrying the practiced calm of a man who had run boardrooms long before he ever sat on a throne, "I expected the Shadow of Victims to attend this meeting in person."

Carlotta tilted her head slightly.

"My Lord has more pressing matters to attend to than conversing with humans. He has, however, entrusted me with the authority to speak on his behalf. I assure you, anything I say carries the full weight of his will."

The words landed exactly as intended.

The prince’s jaw tightened. Several of the knights shifted uncomfortably. Even the princess raised an eyebrow, though her expression remained otherwise neutral.

Desmond, to his credit, did not flinch. But the subtle twitch of his left eye told Carlotta everything she needed to know.

’He is insulted. Good. Lord Kai wanted them to understand the hierarchy from the very start. The Shadow of Victims does not answer summons. He grants audiences.’

The King leaned back slightly.

"Very well. Then let us proceed."

He gestured to a seat at the opposite end of the crescent table.

Carlotta walked over and sat down, crossing her legs with a deliberate elegance.

Her escorts remained standing behind her, their heads bowed.

"The Kingdom of Traona wishes to discuss the future of the Jaun Land," Desmond began, folding his hands on the table.

"As I am sure you are aware, the events in Rambosa have caused significant concern among my people. The destruction of a Duchy, the loss of four Calamity-class Dragons, and the death of over four hundred soldiers, these are not things that can be ignored."

"Nor should they be," Carlotta replied without hesitation. "Those soldiers invaded our territory unprovoked. The Duke launched an attack on the Nameless Dungeon with the intent to destroy it. My Lord merely defended what was his."

"I am not here to assign blame," Desmond said carefully. "I am here to ensure that such a conflict does not happen again."

Carlotta studied him for a moment. Behind those calculated words, she could smell it.’

’He is afraid. They all are. But he is smart enough to hide it behind reason rather than emotion. Unlike that prince standing over there, who looks like he wants to stab me with his eyes.’

"Then speak plainly, King Desmond," Carlotta said, resting her chin on the back of her hand. "What does Traona want from the Shadow of Victims?"

Desmond did not hesitate.

"We want peace. More specifically, we want to understand the intentions of the being who is currently building a city on land that, until recently, fell within our kingdom’s borders."