CHAPTER 004
Maxwell de Fonte August, the 27th Emperor of the Heltard Empire, the strongest empire on the continent, was not a villain.
However, he was not a saint either. He was certainly not someone who would stake his life for ideals or greater causes. His worldview divided not into good and evil but into strong and weak, rulers and the ruled.
And the position of ruler of this world was his. It was not a belief or hope but an unchanging truth.
In the twenty-five years of his life, there had been fifteen assassination attempts on Emperor Maxwell. And all fifteen times, the heads of the assassins were displayed in front of the palace gates the next morning. Of course, alongside them were the heads of those who had sent the assassins.
The fact that the one who dealt with the assassins was the Crown Prince was only revealed after he ascended to the throne. The Crown Prince, who had lost his parents, was like a sailing ship in a storm.
From his grandmother, the Empress Dowager, with whom he shared no blood, to his uncle, now the second in command, and his aunt’s husband, Grand Duke Le Sang, all saw the young Crown Prince as someone who needed to disappear.
Maxwell had to hide his claws thoroughly for seventeen years. He pretended to be a bookworm Crown Prince who got dizzy riding a horse and feared appearing in public.
‘Thank you for your hard work.’
Those were the first words he spoke upon returning to the capital after three years of long war, directed at his uncle, the Regent Emperor Gustav, who sat on the throne.
When his father, the Crown Prince, was brutally killed by a beast, Maxwell was just a year old.
The previous Emperor, who had named Maxwell as Crown Prince, passed away when Maxwell was nine. His uncle Gustav became the Regent Emperor in his place.
However, he had to swear to the late Emperor’s will to return the throne to Maxwell when he turned twenty.
Like all stories, the Regent Emperor Gustav had no intention of handing over the throne to his nephew, Maxwell.
The great war with the southern allied nations was the perfect opportunity to get rid of the future Emperor. Regent Emperor Gustav appointed seventeen-year-old Maxwell as the supreme commander of the army and sent him to his death.
A Crown Prince who had never experienced war, who had spent his life reading books in the library, was to fight against the most savage and powerful army of the allied nations. It was a death sentence.
Maxwell silently accepted the Emperor’s command, ignoring the few loyal subjects who advised him to flee to another country. He led the senior commanders and knights who neither recognized nor respected him to the battlefield.
And precisely on the day he turned twenty, the Crown Prince returned to the palace. He had led the Empire’s army to a great victory against the southern allied nations, doubling the territory.
‘Ah, the Crown Prince is still too young and inexperienced to rule the Empire. I will reconsider the succession in three years.’
The Emperor, who had hurriedly appointed his own son as the proxy Crown Prince, said.
For the first time, the Crown Prince Maxwell genuinely burst out laughing. His ruby-like red eyes deepened into a blood-red hue. Those present that day couldn’t even stand properly, their legs weak from fear.
And exactly one hour later, the triumphant Crown Prince ascended to the throne as the 27th Emperor of the Heltard Empire. Historians and the people of the Empire praised Emperor Maxwell as the greatest sage king in the 1,500-year history since its founding.
But he paid no heed to flattering words. His policies, which abolished unfair customs, reduced high taxes, punished the abuse of power by nobles, and strengthened higher education systems, had nothing to do with being a sage king.
It wasn’t because Emperor Maxwell particularly loved his subjects or cared about their welfare. It was simply a means to make his Empire the strongest in all aspects—economically, culturally, and militarily.
If a village that didn’t benefit the Empire was swept away by a storm, he wouldn’t care. He would only regret the loss of young men who could have participated in wars or the farmland that contributed to the Empire’s economy.
His life’s goal wasn’t to create a prosperous empire where the people’s peace and happiness were guaranteed. It was solely to create an overwhelming empire that dominated the entire continent.
The Emperor despised anything that demanded emotional investment. For an Emperor who lived strictly according to meticulously planned strategies, marriage was no exception.
‘To find an Empress worthy of Your Majesty, we will hold a selection contest according to the Empire’s tradition. Trust me, Your Majesty.’
‘Of course. Who else would I trust but you, Grandmother? Please find the best bride for me.’
It was the Empress Dowager who had sent two assassins to the young Maxwell. Emperor Maxwell replied with the same gentle mask as her.
‘Your Majesty, the Empress Dowager will conduct the Empress selection process unfairly for her own kingdom’s benefit. Allow me to participate equally in this selection. Now, Your Majesty, I am the only one who shares your blood.’
‘That might be true. In this palace where my uncle no longer resides, you are my only blood relative, Aunt. I trust you will handle it well.’
She was the one who had attempted to poison him on the battlefield and had plotted to have him taken as hostage by a foreign country. Maxwell nodded with a smile.
The reason the Emperor didn’t strangle the power of the Empress Dowager’s faction and Grand Duke Le Sang’s faction was simple. He could exploit the two opposing factions to his advantage as needed. Of course, he would cut off their breath when the time was right.
The Empress selection contest, with participation from the daughters of the Empire’s highest noble families and princesses from the continent’s kingdoms, was a traditional procedure for political marriages to strengthen the Empire’s power.
About 200 princesses and noble ladies gathered, vying for a place beside Emperor Maxwell, the ruler of the strongest empire. After the second contest, ten candidates were chosen to undergo the final selection over the next two months.
The Emperor himself had never once seen the candidates’ faces. But as scheduled, in two months, Emperor Maxwell would marry the winner of the fierce competition.
He had only one requirement for his future Empress. He didn’t expect or hope for her love. Emotions that couldn’t be reciprocated could become poison. He wouldn’t interfere if she had a lover.
However, the future Empress needed to have the ambition to become the partner of the ruler who would conquer the continent. She had to be able to lie and scheme without hesitation to achieve her ambitions, using even her closest confidants.
She had to possess the strength to maintain a poker face and dominate the cunning women of the palace. Only then could she survive the invisible bloody palace intrigues and become a necessary partner for him.
He abhorred personalities that wasted sympathy on anyone or couldn’t lie.
Feigning kindness for a purpose was acceptable. But a naturally kind-hearted personality that was easily exploited and suffered losses was the worst trait for his partner.
Like the girl standing with her head bowed, unable to grasp the hand extended by the Emperor.
Emperor Maxwell thought as he looked at Arabelle in the stable reeking of horse manure. He didn’t even know such a shabby territory existed in the remote mountains. A land that didn’t contribute at all to the Empire’s prosperity.
‘She is the second daughter of the fallen Marquis of Del Sancto.’
‘Currently, the whole family seems to be living with Baron Cander, their relative.’
‘It is known that she has no close connections in the capital.’
‘Her father, though a healer, is now making and selling herbal remedies, struggling with gambling debts.’
‘Her mother ran away ten years ago, leaving behind her young daughters.’
That was the report he received about the young lady who had just come of age.
Baron Cander was a noble in name only, scorned by the aristocratic society, and ranked lower than the middle-class merchants of the capital.
Arabelle was the daughter of a family begging for food from such a lowly man. If not for the cursed power that manifested three years ago, he would never have crossed paths with her.
Maxwell stared more blatantly at Arabelle, who continued to avoid his gaze. Sweat beaded on her forehead under the intense scrutiny of the man.
“Aren’t you going to greet His Majesty the Emperor properly?”
“Pardon...? His, His Majesty the Emperor?”
Startled by Baroness Cander’s scolding, Arabelle lifted her head. Her wavering gaze met the Emperor’s. Only then did the red eyes sparkle as if satisfied.
Realizing her mistake, Arabelle quickly bowed her head again. Seeing the round eyes disappear from his sight, Maxwell’s jaw tightened.
“What do you mean she assisted His Majesty?”
Baron Cander asked in an unusually gentle voice, one he had never used with Arabelle before. He still couldn’t believe the Emperor had come to his territory.
“Pardon...? Oh, um, no. It’s just...”
Unable to answer properly, Arabelle stammered, afraid of causing any trouble for the Emperor. Understanding her hesitation, the Emperor answered in her stead.
“She took care of my injured horse all night.”
He captured Arabelle’s startled gaze as she looked at him like a young deer. It was natural to boast about a great deed that earned the Emperor’s visit.
The Emperor clicked his tongue inwardly. Arabelle couldn’t even answer properly because she feared revealing his secret. She didn’t even realize what good she had done.
The sharp Emperor’s intuition was correct. Arabelle was anxious under the crimson gaze, worried that the secret of the beast, now the Emperor, might be exposed because of her. She couldn’t understand why the Emperor said he would take responsibility and come to fetch her.
The Emperor’s crimson lips, pleasingly large and vivid, parted.
“I have come to take you as a candidate for the Empress selection.”
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