I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

Chapter 30: The Broken Ice, The Golden Carriage, and The Emperor’s Trap

I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

Chapter 30: The Broken Ice, The Golden Carriage, and The Emperor’s Trap

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Chapter 30: Chapter 30: The Broken Ice, The Golden Carriage, and The Emperor’s Trap

For three days, the Kurogane Fortress was at peace.

Well, as peaceful as a giant iron castle full of heavily armed warriors and a grumpy twelve-year-old cat spirit could be.

The battle with the bone giant had completely wrecked the front gates and turned the frozen moat into a giant puddle of lukewarm, ashy slush. The entire vanguard had been working around the clock to rebuild the barricades before the deep winter freeze set in.

And naturally, I was managing the supply lines.

"Three more wagons of ironwood for the western wall!" I yelled over the noise of the courtyard, checking a long parchment scroll. I pointed my ink brush at a group of northern guards. "And keep the resin barrels away from the blacksmith’s forge! Do you guys want to blow up the courtyard?!"

The guards laughed, offering me cheerful bows as they hauled the massive logs away.

"You are a terrifying woman when you hold a ledger," a deep, amused voice rumbled right behind my ear.

I jumped slightly, turning around to find Akira leaning against a stack of wooden crates. He was wearing his casual dark indigo robes, his long pink hair tied back loosely. He didn’t have his heavy armor on, and the exhausted shadows under his amber eyes had finally faded.

He looked entirely too handsome for a construction site.

"Someone has to keep this place organized," I huffed, though a massive smile broke across my face. I tapped his chest lightly with the wooden end of my ink brush. "Your Quartermaster was going to stack highly flammable tree sap next to an open fire, Akira. You Warlords have no sense of workplace safety."

Akira chuckled, his large hand coming up to gently cover mine where it rested against his chest.

"That is why I married you," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my ink-stained knuckles. His voice dropped an octave, meant only for me over the noise of the courtyard. "You keep my fortress from burning down. And you keep me sane."

My heart did a frantic, ridiculous flip. It had been three days since our kiss in the bedroom, and every single time he looked at me like that, my brain completely stopped working. The terrifying Demon Prince was incredibly, unfairly gentle.

"Hey! Stop making heart-eyes at each other and help me!"

We both turned our heads.

Yuki was trudging across the slushy courtyard. The twelve-year-old cat-boy was currently carrying a single, incredibly small piece of firewood. He looked absolutely miserable. His oversized white kimono was tied up with a rope to keep it out of the mud, and his fluffy white ears were pinned back in pure agony.

"This is child labor!" Yuki shrieked, dramatically dropping the tiny log into the snow. "I am a divine being! I do not haul wood! My spiritual vessel is delicate!"

Commander Tomoe marched past him, effortlessly carrying three massive ironwood logs on each shoulder like they weighed absolutely nothing.

"Pick up the stick, you whiny furball," Tomoe grunted, not even looking back. "Or I’m tossing you into the slush."

"Barbarians! The entire North is full of uncultured barbarians!" Yuki yelled at the sky. He looked at Akira and me. "Do something! Assert your Warlord dominance! Tell this scarred giantess to let me go inside and take a nap!"

"You ate four plates of salmon for breakfast," Akira said calmly, crossing his arms. "You can carry a stick, Yuki."

Yuki gasped, clutching his chest like he had been physically stabbed. He completely ignored the tiny log and stomped away toward the kitchens, muttering curses about ungrateful humans and plotting to leave a dead mouse in Akira’s boots.

I laughed so hard my sides ached.

"He’s going to actually curse you one day," I told Akira, wiping a tear from my eye.

"He has been trying for twenty years," Akira smiled, looking down at me. The playful amusement in his eyes slowly shifted into something deeper. Something permanent.

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of gray hair behind my ear. The heavy silver and sapphire hairpin he had given me was securing the rest of it.

"You look happy," Akira murmured softly.

"I am," I realized, the truth of it settling warmly in my chest.

I looked around the noisy, messy courtyard. I looked at Tomoe yelling at the guards, and Rin sitting on the armory steps playing with a massive hunting dog.

I wasn’t hiding in a freezing basement anymore. I wasn’t just surviving day to day, terrified of my uncle’s shadow. I had a home. I had a family. And I had the most powerful man in the empire looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

"I really am," I repeated, looking back up into his amber eyes.

Akira leaned down, his lips parting slightly. I tilted my chin up, completely ready to let him kiss me right there in the middle of the courtyard.

BWOOOOM.

The massive, deep sound of the northern warning horn echoed across the valley, completely shattering the moment.

Akira stopped. His head snapped toward the front gates, the Warlord aura instantly flaring back to life around his shoulders.

I gripped my ledger tightly. My heart slammed against my ribs. "Is it another attack? Did Ryu come back?"

"No," Commander Tomoe yelled, dropping her logs and rushing to the stone parapet. "It’s the watchtower! Someone is approaching the shattered moat!"

Akira’s jaw locked. He grabbed my hand, his grip tight and protective, and we rushed up the stone steps to the top of the wall.

I looked down at the frozen valley.

It wasn’t an army. It wasn’t a swarm of corrupted yokai or a massive bone giant.

It was a single, pristine carriage.

The carriage was made of gleaming white wood, heavily adorned with pure gold leaf. It was pulled by four beautiful, normal white horses, not demonic beasts. And snapping violently in the harsh northern wind at the top of the carriage was a massive, golden banner.

The Sun Crest. The direct seal of the Emperor.

"An Imperial Envoy," Akira said, his voice dropping to a lethal, icy whisper.

The carriage stopped at the edge of the ruined, slushy moat. The door opened.

A single man stepped out. He was an Imperial Scribe, dressed in heavy, flawless white and gold silk robes. He looked absolutely terrified of the massive black iron fortress looming over him, but he stood his ground. He held a thick scroll sealed with golden wax in his trembling hands.

"Lord Akira Kurogane!" the scribe’s magically amplified voice echoed across the frozen valley. "I bring a direct decree from His Divine Majesty, Emperor Shirakawa!"

"The Emperor didn’t send an army," I whispered, panic rising in my throat. "He sent a letter."

"He is a coward who fights with paper," Akira sneered. He leaned over the parapet. "Read it, scribe! And be quick about it, before my archers use you for target practice!"

The scribe flinched, hastily breaking the golden wax seal. He unrolled the thick parchment, his hands shaking so badly the paper rattled.

"By the decree of the Son of Heaven," the scribe read, his voice cracking. "Let it be known across the Empire. Crown Prince Ryu has shown grave incompetence and cowardice in his duties. He has unlawfully wielded a Forbidden Edict, bringing shame to the Sun Crest."

I gasped, looking at Akira. "He... he actually punished Ryu?"

Akira didn’t look relieved. His amber eyes narrowed. "Keep reading," he ordered the scribe.

"For his crimes, Ryu is hereby stripped of his title, his lands, and his right to the Chrysanthemum Throne," the scribe yelled, wiping nervous sweat from his brow.

A murmur of shock rippled through the northern guards standing on the wall. Stripping a Crown Prince was completely unheard of. It meant the Emperor had entirely disowned his own son. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"The Empire requires strength," the scribe continued reading, his voice rising in a desperate attempt to sound authoritative. "It requires a Warlord capable of defending its borders and crushing its enemies. It requires the blood of the Dragon."

My stomach plummeted. A freezing, paralyzing realization washed over me.

No. He wouldn’t.

"Therefore," the scribe shouted, holding the golden scroll high in the air. "His Divine Majesty, Emperor Shirakawa, hereby officially adopts his nephew, Lord Akira Kurogane, as his direct heir!"

The entire fortress went dead silent. Only the howling wind made a sound.

Akira stood completely frozen, his massive hands gripping the stone wall so hard the rock actually began to crack under his fingers.

"Let it be known!" the scribe finished, his voice trembling with terror. "Lord Akira Kurogane is hereby named the new Crown Prince of the Empire! By Imperial Command, you are ordered to return to the capital immediately to take your place at the Emperor’s side!"

The scroll rolled shut with a sharp snap.

My knees felt weak. I stumbled back a step.

It wasn’t a reward. It was the most brilliant, vicious trap I had ever seen.

The Emperor knew he couldn’t defeat Akira in the North. He couldn’t break the Kurogane Fortress. So, he had simply ordered Akira to leave it.

If Akira refused the title, he would be committing high treason against a direct Imperial Edict, giving the Emperor the legal right to execute every single person in the North.

If Akira accepted the title, he would have to pack up his life, leave his impenetrable fortress, and walk straight back into the viper’s nest of the capital. Right back into the Emperor’s total control.

Second Prince Jin would try to assassinate us every single day. The capital nobles would tear us apart. And I, the former basement rat with zero magic, was suddenly the Crown Princess of the entire Empire.

I looked at my husband.

Akira was staring down at the golden carriage, his Warlord aura completely suppressed by sheer, unadulterated shock. The man who had faced a bone giant without flinching looked completely, utterly trapped.

We had fought so hard to escape the capital. And now, the Emperor was dragging us right back into the fire.

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