The Return Of A Spoiled Villainess 35 Trap

Emperor Abel displeasedly looked up from the pile of papers and toward the door. His nephew, Devon, did not even bother to knock before entering and settled opposite in a wide gilded armchair.

This guy, as always, was surrounded by a dark aura like a mantle, but today it was especially thick. However, this time the Emperor did not even have to guess for the reason. He had eyes and ears throughout the empire. And what is happening in the Palace reached him with a delay of just a couple of minutes.

"You somehow particularly s.h.i.+ny today, Devon. Did something happen?" - nevertheless, the Emperor could not resist to p.r.i.c.k him a bit. The young man's face darkened even more.

"Let's leave these jokes aside, Your Highness." - the Head of the Black Castle gritted coldly through his teeth. The emperor immediately became serious, and sighed, shaking his head.

"Do you still take this woman's words to heart?" - He said, with an undisguised note of scorn in his voice. - "I have told you more than once, the fact that this woman gave birth to you does not make her a mother. I don't know where my brother's eyes were when he chose this as his wife ..."

"Why did you call me, Your Highness? " - The sharp voice of Devon interrupted the discontented reasoning of the Emperor. The elderly man sighed once more and decided to leave this topic. The face of his nephew, whom he always perceived more as his own son, clearly said that this conversation was over.
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Abel leaned back in his chair and peered more closely at the man opposite him.

"Devon, I'm sure you are aware of what is happening right now in the Empire." - He began after a brief silence.

"Your Highness talking about the fact that while he is hiding here pretending to be terminally ill, aristocrats like dung fleas rus.h.i.+ng in a panic trying to find the warmest a.s.s to cling to?!" - hissed Lord Trevelyan, completely without choosing a wording. The emperor first raised his eyebrows in surprise, then suddenly burst out laughed, not being able to contain the mirth.

"Very accurately noticed, my boy." - He said, coughing a bit after laughing too hard.

"I am very pleased that this situation is so delightful to my venerable uncle. I am sure that you are the only one whom it really brings so much joy." - Devon muttered with a fair amount of sarcasm.

The emperor grinned but his eye already lost the smile. Then a strange shadow pa.s.sed over his face. The elderly man abruptly stood up probably trying to hide it and strode to the window, turning his back to Devon. But who did he try to deceive? The Black Lord clearly saw a thick blue fog of sorrow tightly enveloping the Emperor's back.

"You must have heard about this before, but many since ancient times perceived the Head of the Black Castle as the natural antipode of the Emperor. As light and darkness, good and evil." - Quiet, but full of force voice of the Emperor interrupted Devon's thoughts. - "However, the truth is the complete opposite. Lord Gerrot often got angry when I said that we really are like two parents. One scolds and punishes, and the second consoles and protects. But now looking at my youngest son, as well as at his radiant fiancée, I don't see at all allies worthy of you. "

"I don't think it's worth choosing your heir as if you are choosing me a bride." - snapped Devon and immediately bit his tongue, noticing a dangerous gleam in the eyes of the Emperor. The old man suddenly turned around when he heard his words, and Devon immediately broke into gooseb.u.mps.

"Speaking of brides." - The monarch drawled, suddenly changing the subject. His lips spread out in a predatory smile. Devon felt a very bad premotion, it seems like his word touched a wrong chord and now he will have to pay for it.

"I heard amazing gossip that literally blew up Arilla a couple of days ago. They say the young Countess Callisto Marsters didn't die six years ago. Moreover, she managed to return home in good health. I always liked this girl, unlike her mother."

Devon literally felt the Emperor's eyes cling to his face, trying not to lose sight of the slightest s.h.i.+ft.

"It's amazing that you like her even after she tried to kill your son." - Devon said carefully, making sure that not a single muscle on his face flinch.

"Hmmm ..." - Abel hummed instead of an answer and his smile became even wider. - "Do you really think this girl is so stupid?"

"Anyway, I'm already on this case." - Snapped the Black Lord, antic.i.p.ating something bad.

"And yet I would like to do something for the poor thing. She survived so much ..." - the Emperor trailed off and somehow suspiciously turned his eyes to the side.

"She is still under suspicion." - Devon interrupted unceremoniously. "Even if what happened six years ago was just an intrigue in which Lady Marsters became an innocent victim. We still do not know exactly with what purpose she returned now. She may be a Ligarchat's spy or plan revenge on your son."

" Even better!" - proclaimed Abel with a bright smile. Devon was waiting for any reaction of his uncle to these words, but not this one. He was taken aback for a moment. But the Emperor himself apparently decided to seize the moment and went for the kill.

"My idea will solve the problem in both cases. We must give her to Welsey! As a wife of course."

"No!" - Growled Devon, instantly jumping from his chair. His eyes became bloodshot in an instant, and his fists clenched as if he was ready to rush at the Emperor at any moment. Abel started back, not expecting such a violent reaction. Then both froze as if snapped back to reality.

The Emperor's eyes slowly narrowed, and Devon's face, on the contrary, became confused.

"d.a.m.n!" - Flew out of Devon's mouth.

"Why not?" - The old schemer asked, peering attentively at the face of his nephew. - "If she is really a spy or is aiming for revenge, Welsey can look after her and stop her if necessary. Otherwise, if she is not guilty of anything, the betrothal will help restore her reputation. Welsey, as you know, a very pragmatic man, he will agree to this marriage and squeeze out all possible benefits out of it for himself and Empire of course. You know him, he won't miss this exquisite opportunity"

" But is it not too much? I mean, she is just a mere countess."- Devon carefully tried to find at least some reason against this plan.

" This as you put it mere countess, firstly, the daughter of the former head of Green Castle and my close friend, and you know what is going on now in the Empire Bastion of knowledge and skill. It can be an excellent lever for us to right the situation. "- Abel began to list, trying to pretend that he didn't notice a growing panic in the eyes of his nephew. - " And secondly, with the confusion that is happening in the Palace, and throughout the Empire, Arian Ligarchat is unlikely to miss such a wonderful chance to interfere in our affairs. And as you know, it's worth keeping friends close, and enemies even closer. "

" But why Welsey? "- Devon blow out, not being able to find any loophole in this argument. The thought that this girl would marry this rogue made Devon's blood literally boil. All rationality flew out of his head instantly.

"Who else then?" - The old man asked, barely holding notes of amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice. He had never seen his nephew's forever gloomy and stern expression so agitated.

"Well, I can ... " - flew out of Devon's mouth by itself. The Black Judge immediately stopped short, sensing something was amiss, but it was too late.

"Good. You have two weeks." - proclaimed the Emperor smiling triumphantly.

" What?!" - the young man gasped, completely not expecting such a turn.

"In two weeks, the first spring ball will be held. At it, I announce your engagement. So you have more than enough time to prepare. Well, I mean, prepare your bride for such a joyful event ..."

Devon could not resist and cast a malicious glance at the old man, which was barely hiding his glee.

Devon was itching to say something hateful but was forced to bit his tongue, afraid that he would only dig his own grave even deeper. He knew Abel too well to understand that if this old man had already made a decision, he would hold on to him like a demon. The only person who could somehow influence this unbearable monarch was his mentor, the former Head of the Black Castle. But now he was no longer in this world ...

"What if she refuses?" - Said Devon, continuing to stare gloomily at the Emperor. He, too, was not used to giving up so quickly.

"Oh dear, you underestimate yourself." - Abel answered, already not hiding his fun. - "Moreover, this is not a request at all, but an Imperial order."

And although at this moment the elderly monarch was still smiling, his eyes flashed with steel instantly chopping off any protests from his nephew.

Devon had no choice but to nod briefly and say goodbye to him, silently retire.

Abel followed Devon's receding back and only when it disappeared behind the door allowed himself to relax, leaning back in his chair. Old man's gaze became blurred and his fingers inadvertently found a ring on a simple silver chain under his s.h.i.+rt.

"Forgive me, Ger." - The Emperor whispered, barely audible, and his face suddenly seemed much older. - "I think I let you down. You choose and raised a really worthy heir. And I ..."

Suddenly his eyes lit up with a strange gleam. He leaned forward sharply and set about searching for something on his desk.

"Perhaps not everything is lost." - He muttered, fetching a strange yellowed envelope from a drawer. - "After all, if Lady Marsters returned, then SHE, too, will soon return." - He added and his lips spread out in an antic.i.p.ating smirk.