The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 466: Porcelain Guest

SOREN

Eris didn’t move toward the door. Instead, she walked right past me, ignoring my protests as if I were a buzzing fly. She reached the desk and began picking up the papers I had been staring at.

"Eris, you don’t need to... this isn’t something you should... " I reached out to stop her, my hand hovering near her arm. "You don’t need to concern yourself with this. It’s tedious administrative nonsense. Let me handle it."

She stopped. She didn’t look at the paper; she looked at me. It was The Look. It was a sharp, dangerous flash of imperial authority that made the words die in my throat.

"Don’t test my patience, Soren," she said quietly.

My mouth snapped shut. My spine straightened of its own accord. I backed down instantly, feeling like a squire being scolded by a grandmaster.

I stood there, obedient and silent, as she returned her attention to the documents.

She scanned them with a speed that spoke of her years as a ruler, her mind connecting the dots I had spent hours laboring over. She saw the economic data, the patterns of sabotage, the quiet strangulation.

She didn’t have the full picture yet, but she grasped the threat... she knew it was Vetra, and she knew it was systematic.

She looked up, her expression hardening. "Explain," she commanded. It wasn’t a request. This was Empress mode. "Explain exactly what is going on."

I hesitated, looking at Aldric, who was studiously pretending to examine a different map. Then I looked back at her. I knew there was no refusing that tone.

"It’s a network," I said, my voice low. "Vetra’s network. It’s not a coup, Eris. It’s economic strangulation. She’s using the people she placed in power over the last thirty years to disrupt the supply lines. They’re hoarding grain, diverting resources, and sabotaging the infrastructure. By the time the trial begins, she wants the provinces starving and the capital isolated. The Long Dark makes it nearly impossible to respond; we can’t send messengers fast enough, and the roads are death traps."

Eris’s eyes flashed with a righteous, sharp anger. "And you were trying to keep me out of this?" she asked, her voice dangerously thin. "A situation that clearly requires my attention as Empress? You thought you would just manage a potential empire-wide famine while I sat in the nursery?"

"I was only looking out for your health," I said, my voice soft, pleading. I stepped closer, trying to find a way back into her good graces. "I didn’t want to stress you. Your body... you’ve been through so much, Eris. I wanted you to rest."

She gave me a look of such pure, unadulterated incredulity that I felt about two inches tall.

She sighed heavily, a sound of profound frustration, and then did something I hadn’t expected. She pulled out a chair and sat down right next to Aldric, at the very heart of the mess.

"Sit," she said to me.

And so, we worked. The three of us spent the next several hours in a state of intense collaboration.

Eris brought a perspective I lacked... she knew how to handle entrenched bureaucracies from her time in Solmire.

Together, we began developing countermeasures. We drafted orders for re-routing imperial stockpiles, planned emergency distributions that utilized the guard instead of civilian contractors, and created a series of contingency orders that would be sent out the moment the weather broke.

I watched her as she worked, her mind sharp and unrelenting. I felt a surge of confirmation; this was the woman I loved, the woman who could hold a kingdom together with nothing but her will. This was the partner I had been too stupidly protective to utilize.

Eventually, as the candles guttered in their holders and the shadows grew long, I realized Aldric was swaying in his seat. "That’s enough for tonight," I said, dismissing him.

Aldric didn’t argue. He stood, bowed to both of us... "Your Majesty, Your Majesty"... and practically stumbled out of the room.

The silence that followed was heavy and private. Eris stood up, smoothing her skirts. "I should retire," she said, her voice carrying a slight, detectable edge of hurt. "I don’t expect you to join me soon, since you apparently prefer the company of ink and parchment to your wife."

She turned to leave, but I was faster. I stood and moved in front of the door, blocking her path. I was much taller than her, and in the small space between the door and the desk, I felt the sudden, electric charge of our proximity.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked, looking down at her.

She looked up at me, her expression flat. "What do you think, Soren? You treated me like a porcelain doll."

"I know," I whispered. "I’m sorry. I was wrong."

She tried to move past me, to dodge around my side, but I didn’t let her. I stayed in her way, persistent.

"Soren," she warned, her voice dropping an octave. "Move."

Instead of moving, I reached out and pulled her into me. I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck.

I felt her stiffen for a second, but I didn’t let go. I moved lower, nuzzling against the soft skin above the collar of her dress, eventually burying my face against the swell of her chest. I pressed my forehead there, nudging slowly, seeking the comfort of her heartbeat.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, though she didn’t push me away.

"I don’t want you to hate me," I mumbled, my voice muffled by her dress.

"I don’t hate you," she said firmly. "I’m just quite offended that you think I’m not useful. That you think I can’t handle the truth of my own empire."

I looked up at her then, my face still close to hers, my expression one of genuine confusion. "What? I never said that. I know how useful you are. I know you’re the smartest person in this palace."

"But you basically meant it," she accused. "By trying to keep me out of this. By trying to deal with a threat of this magnitude all by yourself, as if I’m just a guest here."