“And so you want permission to murder him.”

“If he was just some random noble from the countryside, I would have executed him without a thought. But he’s the nephew of Friaren’s king.”

“So it seems. How have you been treating him?”

“As a stranger that we can’t touch. Hard, stale crackers are all he gets. We offer him muddy water, but he elects to get water by himself. I suspect that he seduced a maid, too.”

“Good. Bring him in, I’ll see if there are any uses for him.”

She nodded. Heading for the door, she talked to the butler. Still, she was amazed at how beautiful she was. The empress could see the genes at work. It took a while, but they didn’t mind. Estelle sat down besides her sister, waiting.

The door creaked open. A gloved hand reached in, and pushed the door open further. Sweat dripped from her body. Elise nodded, and walked in.

“You’re here for the pest?” she asked.

“I am. Do you wanna change or?”

“He doesn’t deserve that respect.”

“Right. Then sit down, and put your legs up.”

With a dry towel provided by a maid, Elise wiped her sweat off. She most probably just finished up with training. Outside, one the ground floor, the knights went for a lap.

“Thanks for this, by the way. All the women love it.” She motioned to the tight fitting sports bra on her chest.

“I’m more amazed no one has made it before. What about your pants?”

“A bit too tight, to be honest. I get that it's supposed to be skin tight, but is it supposed to cut off circulation?”

“Hmm. I’ll give feedback to Amelia.”

Elise propped her legs up on the table. Sitting on the same sofa, Frances could feel the sweat and heat radiating off of her. Her 6-pack abs caved in and out as she breathed.

“So what’s your workout routine like?” Frances asked. “Take note, Katalina.”

“Hmm. Usually I’d have a mixture of sprinting, jogging, sparring, and weights. Why? You interested in working out with me?”

“Please, my bones would give up the moment I tried.”

“Hah! Well, that’s what we’re here for.”

She put her sweaty arm over her sister’s shoulder. A soft wind blew in. The maids brought in two cups of tea. Two steam pillars rose. Beautifully brewed, with the natural darkness of the black tea swirling. A small container of white milk stood by its side.

“Sit down, Katalina,” Frances said.

“But My Lord...”

“Please, you think I’ll need protection? Here? With these two by my side? People that you can’t even beat? I think this is probably the safest place.”

“I agree. Please sit down, Lady Katalina.”

With a reluctant look, the knight finally took a seat. On the sofa, the young ladies of the Rayleigh household lined up. And after a slow minute, the door creaked open.

A vaguely young man walked in. His age was unclear. Maybe early twenties, all the way to early forties. He dressed with sloppiness. Mismatching colours, wrinkled clothes, tears. Scars lined his face. With the typical brown eyes of the north, and their common auburn hair.

“Finally decided to join?”

His mouth did not match the words that left. And the way he spoke was unnatural as well. Still, weird accent and speech patterns aside, it was perfect otherwise.

“So that’s the guy?”

“Yeap. He came here, and we can’t exactly chase him out either. Diplomacy, you know.”

“The worst thing is,” Elise added, “He went to ask father for my hand! Not even me!”

“Yeah. So we wanted to kill him, but mother said that we should talk to you instead. Since you’re the empero- sorry, empress, after all,” Estelle said.

“No worries. I'll hear him out first. Does he understand us?”

Estelle nodded. So that meant the only method to talk in secret was through telepathy.

“Who are you?” Frances asked.

“So this is the emperor Rayleigh? I’m not taking men.”

“My patience is running thin. What do you want?”

“My uncle wants to meet you, see.”

“Then he should have sent a letter, not you.”

“He wants to meet you as a Rayleigh, not the emperor.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what was said. You are a Rayleigh, not the emperor. That is the statement. In short, the king wants to meet the Rayleighs, not an envoy.”

“Why? Would meeting the person in power not be more effective?”

“No. He wishes to see your strength. The strength of the Rayleighs.”

“Hmm. So he wants us.”

“Indeed. Of course, you will all be treated like you deserve.”

Frances rubbed her forehead. Sweat formed behind her ears, and the gears turned within her head. Recalling everything about Friaren, she saw a path illuminated by fireflies in the dark forest, guiding her towards a conclusion.

“Haein. I’m moving forward with Route F3K.”

“What? How do you plan to splinter them?”

“Splinter? Uhh, I mean F3G?”

“Genocide, you serious? How?”

“Uhhhh. Well, I’ll probably be killing the king’s nephew. Maybe the king himself.”

“Got a puppet in mind?”

Frances could only chuckle. There was no need for a puppet ruler. Or any ruler, in fact. Simply because that kingdom was fundamentally different from the Varexian Empire, or even the Loyran Sultanate.

Friaren did not have an heir system. Bloodlines did not matter, nor did legitimacy. Claims to the throne were ignored, and oftentimes disregarded altogether. Their succession system worked through fighting. As a summary, if Loyra was the centre of religion, Varexia the centre of science, Friaren was the land of warriors. The nations to the south were influenced by otherworlders from areas like Jerusalem and Arabia. Meanwhile, Friaren received military leaders and fighters. Lü Bu, Thorkell, Eric Bloodaxe. Even great leaders like Genghis Khan.

They held no elections. Instead, every 5 years, they held a huge fight. A battle royale, where the last man won the throne. Of course, a strong ruler maintained their throne, and a weak one fell. Queen Signe was an exemplary person. Her reign lasted 30 years, and she slaughtered every man that dared to challenge her.

It made sense why the king was interested in the Rayleighs. Perhaps he wanted a child? Two strong parents made for an even stronger child.

“No need for puppets. After all, my sisters are coming along.”

“Well then. I look forward to the duo queen.”

“Estelle, Elise? What do you want to do?”

“A vacation, huh?” Estelle laughed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The sister shot a glance. It seemed like she already caught on. Splendid.

“I don’t really care. But Friaren has strong fighters.”

“That’s good. Then the three of us will go, along with my personal guard, Katalina.”

And all Frances could do was smile. She propped her legs up on the table, and tucked her skirt between her legs. The man nodded, and stood up. With a confident grin, he blew a kiss. A chill shuddered down her spine. Was it the fear, the paranoia? Or was it the disgust?