traitor chapter 4

“It’s unacceptable.” 

The Prime Minister, who had only been moving his lips, finally spoke. 

“This isn’t the time to discuss a Royal Consort. Your Majesty possesses ample divine power; this is a matter that can be addressed a century from now.” 

It was a preposterous argument. The current need for a Royal Consort wasn’t based on antiquated notions like, “The Emperor is of age to marry and produce an heir.” 

Yet, the Prime Minister attempted to frame the issue in those very terms. This was unlike him. The ministers around the table exchanged bewildered glances. Diana, equally perplexed, asked, “Prime Minister, do you realize what you’re saying?” 

“Yes. I am stating that there is currently no need or value in instating a Royal Consort.” 

The Prime Minister’s usually pale face was flushed with an unusual degree of agitation. The change was striking, given his typically impassive demeanor. Diana turned her head and quietly observed her agitated advisor. The Prime Minister, realizing his excessive display of emotion, closed his mouth. 

“Compose yourself and gather your thoughts. We shall recess for a while.” 

“As you command.” 

The Prime Minister bowed his head, and the Emperor rose from her seat. The Chief Advisor and Scribe, who had been seated behind the conference table, rose just then, having finished his transcription. He was her closest confidant, shadowing her every move and documenting everything. 

His movements as he followed her were as smooth as flowing water. The Prime Minister, after intently watching the Emperor’s retreating figure, followed her out. The Minister of Defense did the same, indicating they had something to discuss with her.

Diana, aware of the footsteps trailing behind her, exited the conference room. She accepted the external schedule from a waiting attendant and headed towards the lounge. Her trailing advisors remained silent, seemingly aware that their concerns were too sensitive to be discussed in the hallway. 

As soon as she settled onto the sofa in the lounge, the Prime Minister locked the door. Still slightly stooped from turning the knob, he turned his head towards Diana. His porcelain-white face was framed by strands of black hair. 

“Your Majesty, a Royal Consort is out of the question. It’s premature, of course, but a prince? A prince! How dare some kingdom’s prince stand beside you!” 

“Calm yourself, Mone. I’ll hear you out.” 

Diana soothed her loyal confidant. Mone, his name spoken, took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “The First Prince of Tebon is unworthy to stand by your side. He should be grateful for even the position of concubine. There’s no reason to offer him anything more. Tebon’s influence has grown recently, but offering the position of Royal Consort will only inflate their ego and encourage them to overstep their bounds.” 

His words were laced with an inexplicable emotion. 

“I doubt Tebon’s royals are so lacking in judgment.” 

“But the Empire initiating this proposal will only embolden them!” 

“I agree.” Leonhardt, the Minister of Defense, who had been standing beside Mone guarding the door, spoke up. His voice was as firm as it had been in the conference room. His amber eyes were fixed intently on her. It seemed they had planned this.

Diana cast a languid glance over them and then turned to her Chief Advisor and Scribe, who stood silently like a shadow. “What is your opinion?” He bowed his head, his silver-blond hair falling over his pale forehead. 

“With your permission, may I speak frankly?” 

“You have my permission.” The Scribe lifted his head, looked directly at her, and offered his opinion. 

“Your Majesty, I believe you are likely to neglect the Royal Consort, and therefore, I advise against it.” 

“How impudent.” 

“Which is why I sought your permission beforehand. Since you’ve granted it, I shall continue.” Diana chuckled softly at his audacity and nodded. 

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, do you intend to engage in deep political discourse with the Royal Consort?” 

“Political discussions are held with my ministers. Even a prince, as Royal Consort, would still be a foreign entity.” 

“I concur. Therefore, the Prince’s purpose would be limited to strengthening the alliance with Tebon, nothing more, nothing less. He would be, in essence, an ornament at your side.” 

“Are you suggesting Tebon wouldn’t appreciate such treatment? That too much neglect would confirm their suspicion that he was merely a pawn?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then you’re suggesting I provide him with some degree of involvement in central politics?” 

“His direct involvement isn’t necessary. If you were to produce an heir, linking the Imperial and Royal bloodlines, Tebon would be more than satisfied; they would be overwhelmed with gratitude.” 

Diana listened to the Scribe, her gaze fixed on the now-silent Mone and Leonhardt. “Do you intend to have an heir with the Prince of Tebon?” At the Scribe’s question, the two visibly tensed. The word “heir” had clearly stirred suppressed emotions. Diana’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “Then tell me, from whom else should I expect an heir, if not the Royal Consort?”