blogombal Chapter 76: Truly Seducing the Sovereign
Chapter 76: Truly Seducing the Sovereign
Isabel felt a twinge of regret.She’d brought Aiwas and Lily along, a rare occasion, but perhaps they arrived too early—the cafeteria wasn’t crowded.
Most students didn’t notice the princess’s presence.
The few who did merely glanced curiously.
At most, some pointed from afar, whispering to friends.
No one reacted strongly or approached her or Aiwas.
It was nothing like last time.
She’d mentally prepared answers for all sorts of questions, but they went unused.
No one sat near them or spoke to them until they finished eating and left.
Isabel felt a bit dazed.
“…Was it really that simple?”
“It was never hard,” Aiwas replied, lounging in his wheelchair under the sun, sleepy from the meal, his voice light and drowsy.
“You were just scaring yourself.”
“Someone approaching you alone versus when you’re with others is totally different. And even if someone talks to you, you can just ignore them.”
“Think of it this way—if a commoner sent a letter to Her Majesty, would she reply?”
“…Grandmother actually might,” Isabel said softly.
Aiwas sat up, surprised, eyes widening.
“Really?”
[That old lady must be swamped—how many letters does she answer?]
Isabel quickly added, “But not every letter…”
“Same principle,” Aiwas continued smoothly.
“Treat those who approach you like letters the Queen wouldn’t answer. If she replied to every one, she’d have no time for anything else—she’d be a letter-answering machine.”
Isabel nodded, seeing the logic.
But she was unsure.
“Should I be polite and brush them off, or just snap at them?”
“Depends on what you sense—goodwill or malice. If it’s goodwill, answer openly, no fear. People don’t die from misspeaking.”
His voice turned sly.
“Even if they’re not malicious but you can’t reason with them or just don’t like them, you can still snap at them.”
“Without Authority path aptitude, do you think they’d dare have Transcendence path aptitude?”
“From the start, you don’t need Authority’s power. Avalon’s rules already protect you. You’re a princess—who’d dare disrespect you, and thus the crown? Even ministers wouldn’t. Are rude nobodies bolder than ministers?”
He coaxed like a fox.
“You need to be a bit willful, Isabel. Her Majesty would be pleased. Even those on the Authority path wanting to support you need a goal. If you give them nothing to do, they’ll feel lost.”
“They don’t fear flattery—they fear not knowing what you want.”
“…I think I get it,” Isabel said after long thought.
“But I’m still unsure how much ‘willfulness’ is right, what’s annoying, or what’s hated.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Aiwas said casually.
“Can I ask you, then?” Isabel said suddenly.
“You decide how I should handle them. I trust you won’t deceive me.”
…Huh?
Aiwas froze.
Her words reminded him of Sherlock’s comment from his last advancement ritual—
[Am I really about to seduce the sovereign?]
[This feels like some scheming minister or grand eunuch…]
Isabel’s complete trust made Aiwas soften, almost reluctant to tease her further.
At the same time, he felt a twinge of guilt…
He’d told plenty of lies—his “Fox” identity, his Transcendence aptitude, and more might come.
If she fully believed in his honesty and his lies were exposed…
His expression turned complex, a mix of kindness and guilt.
“Best not say things like ‘only you won’t deceive me’—it puts pressure on people. And don’t fully trust anyone.”
“I might’ve lied to you. I lying—it’s my tool, sometimes as sharp as truth.”
“Remember, never fully trust anyone. Keep your deepest secrets to yourself.”
His words were sincere.
But Isabel sensed his goodwill so clearly she couldn’t believe he was a liar.
Yet if he was telling the truth, he was indeed a liar…
Like a mathematical paradox.
The contradiction left her confused, unsure how to react.
But her suspicion grew stronger.
[He’s so like Fox Mister.]
In the dream, when he held her hand, pointing at the ghastly half-faced corpse on the gallows square, she’d felt it—his enviable freedom, his mischievous yet harmless cunning.
—Dangerous but not deadly, even beneficial.
She’d never felt this from anyone else.
A bold impulse struck her.
Since Aiwas told her not to trust him, she’d trust him anyway.
Not childish rebellion—she realized something.
Were ministers absolutely loyal to Grandmother? Did they never lie?
Of course not.
Isabel had heard countless lies, seen too many betrayals and schemes.
Other capital girls might obsess over pure friends, but she no longer cared about such trifles.
She felt Aiwas’s kind heart and believed his actions benefited her.
—If his motives and actions were good, that was enough. His secrets were his own; she wouldn’t pry.
After all, she had her own secrets!
Ones she hid, even from those close, with lies.
…Like “Fox Mister’s” existence.
Her lips curved slightly, her mood brightening.
They soon reached 14 Ronin Street.
Before Lily could open the door, Isabel stopped her.
“Wait, let me!”
She flashed a得意 smile, pulling a key from her pocket, twirling it on her finger, humming as she stepped ahead.
“…You kept a copy, didn’t you?” Aiwas said, unsurprised.
Her key display was practically a boast.
“It’s my house, after all,” Isabel said, grinning as she opened the door.
“Maybe one night I’ll sneak in to check if you and Miss Lily are up to no good.”
As if explaining, she added, “Like, to see if you’ve dirtied my bed or something!”
Aiwas raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, his fingers tapping the wheelchair armrest absently.
[She definitely remembered Master Yannis’s words.]
Lily caught a detail.
“Your Highness’s bed?”
“…Oh, I’ve never slept here—it’s all clean,” Isabel quickly explained to Lily.
“It’s just nominally mine…”
As a Beauty path superhuman, Isabel was a bit of a face enthusiast.
She felt Aiwas’s maid resembled her—polite, reserved, quiet.
They might be alike, so she liked the gentle, pretty Lily and didn’t want misunderstandings.
But Isabel thought Lily was impressive.
Always silent behind Aiwas like a shadow, yet attentive to everything.
Aiwas didn’t need to speak—Lily knew when to stop or move, executing his wishes calmly.
Her posture, figure, and looks rivaled knightly girls, but behind Aiwas, she was nearly invisible.
Like the wheelchair moved itself.
Isabel envied that.
Her biggest struggle was knowing what to do—Lily’s situational awareness was exactly what she lacked.
She really admired her.
Isabel deftly started the living room’s gramophone, letting the immobile Aiwas relax with music.
Using “showing you the dorm” as an excuse, she pulled Lily through the villa.
Though Royal Law University was in the Red Queen District, not all buildings were red—this villa’s exterior was silver-white, evoking the Hall of Silver and Tin.
Its palette was champagne, with light brown furniture and pale gray tiles, shifting to reddish-brown tiles and wooden furniture in the bedrooms.
From the second floor, floor-to-ceiling glass windows—common for Avalon’s elite, designed for griffin landings—added openness.
The two girls chatted, roaming the 140-square-meter, three-story villa with twenty-two rooms, their bell-like laughter echoing faintly.
Aiwas closed his eyes, resting in the wheelchair, lulled by the soothing music, soon drifting into sleep.
(Chapter End)