The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 187: The Tyrant and The Tutor

What followed was a whirlwind that left me feeling more like a doll being dressed than a person preparing for the day.

Three attendants appeared as if summoned by magic, carrying gowns I’d never seen before... clearly new acquisitions, because I certainly hadn’t brought this many clothes from Solmire. They debated amongst themselves in hushed, rapid voices about which would be most appropriate for "meeting with His Majesty in an informal setting."

I was guided... herded, really... behind a dressing screen where I was stripped of Soren’s tunic (which one of the attendants took with carefully averted eyes) and into undergarments that were considerably more substantial than what I’d been wearing last night.

The gown they’d selected was beautiful in that understated way that suggested extreme expense: deep burgundy silk that caught the light when I moved, cut simply but elegantly, with long sleeves and a neckline that was modest by Solmire standards but probably scandalous here. Gold embroidery traced patterns along the cuffs and hem... fire motifs, I realized, stylized flames that seemed to flicker with movement.

Someone had clearly put thought into this. Into making me look like the Fire Queen while simultaneously fitting Nevareth’s aesthetic.

When they finally let me see myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back.

I looked like an Empress.

Not the tyrant of Solmire who’d worn her cruelty like armor. Not the desperate, burning thing who’d died on a battlefield. But someone who could actually belong here, in this palace of ice and politics and carefully maintained appearances.

"You look beautiful, Your Majesty," Mira said softly, and I realized she was right.

I did.

I ate quickly, efficiently, my mind already moving ahead to what came next.

When I was finally deemed presentable, when every detail had been scrutinized and approved, I was guided through the palace toward the Emperor’s wing.

The guards I passed bowed deeply. Servants scattered out of my path. People who happened to be in the corridors I walked through offered carefully measured greetings that suggested they were still determining how to treat me... with respect or barely concealed hostility.

I catalogued every face, every reaction, saving them away for later consideration.

The Emperor’s wing was, predictably, magnificent. High ceilings, massive windows that let in cold northern light, and that distinctive ice-touched architecture that made everything look carved from ice itself.

My guide... a chamberlain who’d introduced himself with a name I immediately forgot... brought me to a set of doors that presumably led to Soren’s private sitting room.

He knocked, announced me, and stepped aside.

I walked in expecting formality. Some kind of official setting where we’d discuss matters of state or political strategy or whatever it was future empresses and their emperors discussed.

Instead, I found something considerably more... relaxed.

Soren was sprawled in a chair near the fireplace... looking like he’d just woken up himself. His hair was slightly disheveled, his shirt open at the collar, and he had the kind of loose-limbed contentment that suggested he was in an exceptionally good mood.

At his feet, Bjorn lay stretched out like the world’s largest rug, apparently in the middle of getting his ears scratched.

And standing nearby, looking like a man whose soul had left his body approximately three hours ago and hadn’t bothered returning, was Aldric. He held documents in white-knuckled hands and wore an expression that suggested he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment.

They’d clearly been discussing something... there were maps spread across a nearby table, and I caught fragments of words like "supply routes" and "winter reserves" before all conversation stopped.

Because Soren had noticed me.

His entire face lit up... actually lit up, like I’d just made his entire day simply by existing in his vicinity and his smile went from contentedly relaxed to something considerably more dangerous.

"You’re up early," he said, his tone absolutely teasing given that it was mid-afternoon and we both knew exactly why I’d slept so late.

I felt heat creep up my neck but refused to give him the satisfaction of showing embarrassment. "Yes," I replied coolly. "And whose fault is that?"

I let my eyes convey exactly what I meant by that.

Aldric suddenly became extraordinarily interested in the documents he was holding, his ears going slightly pink.

And then Bjorn noticed me.

The massive frost-wolf lifted his head, ears perking up immediately. His tail began wagging like he was some kind of overgrown puppy rather than a creature that could probably tear a man’s throat out without trying and he hauled himself to his feet with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested I was his new favorite person.

He bounded over, and I instinctively took a step back before forcing myself to hold still. I’d never been comfortable around large animals had been bitten by a guard dog as a child and maintained a healthy wariness ever since.

But Bjorn just stopped in front of me, sat politely, and looked up with eyes that were far too intelligent for comfort. His tail was still wagging, sweeping across the floor in wide arcs, and he made a sound that was almost questioning.

He wanted attention. From me. The betrayer who’d stolen his beloved human’s focus.

"He likes you," Soren observed, sounding far too pleased about this development. "He’s very particular about who he tolerates."

I reached out hesitantly, giving Bjorn’s head a light brush with my fingers. His fur was softer than expected, cool to the touch like everything else in this ice-touched empire, and he leaned into my hand with the kind of contentment that suggested this minimal effort was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

His tail wagged harder.

Traitor. The entire palace was full of traitors.

I pulled my hand back, and Bjorn seemed satisfied, returning to his position near Soren’s chair and sprawling out again like he’d accomplished something significant.

"Lady Eris." Aldric’s voice pulled my attention away from the wolf. He bowed, correctly, formally but there was ice in his tone. Not the temperature kind. The emotional kind that suggested he was being respectful because duty demanded it, not because he wanted to be. "Good afternoon."

"Master Aldric." I matched his formality, keeping my expression neutral. "I hope I’m not interrupting."

"Not at all," Soren interjected smoothly, rising from his chair with that fluid grace that made even simple movements look deliberate. "We were just discussing how to prevent the northern trade routes from becoming complete disasters this winter. Fascinating stuff. I’m sure you’d love to hear about transport logistics and supply chain management."

His tone suggested he knew very well that I absolutely would not.

He moved closer, and I was suddenly very aware that the last time we’d been this near each other, I’d been half-naked and completely at his mercy. Heat flooded my face despite my best efforts, and his smile widened like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

"You came to see me because you missed me, right?" He leaned slightly forward, voice dropping to something almost intimate despite Aldric’s presence. "Couldn’t stay away?"

I resisted the urge to set something on fire. "I did not."

I made my voice brisk, businesslike, the tone I’d used in council meetings when dealing with ministers who thought they could manipulate me. "I came because I wish to begin learning everything necessary. If I’m to help you with our arrangement, I need to know where to strike."

The last word came out with perhaps more edge than intended, and I saw Aldric’s eyebrows rise fractionally.

But Soren’s smile widened into something genuinely delighted. "I love it when you talk about striking people." He looked at me like I’d just said something profoundly romantic rather than vaguely threatening. "Maybe I can be your first victim?"

The atmosphere in the room shifted... tension crackling between us that had nothing to do with politics and everything to do with the fact that we were very definitely not thinking about politics right now.

Aldric cleared his throat delicately. "Your Majesty, if you don’t need me for—"

"Actually, Aldric, perfect timing." Soren turned to him with an expression of such casual innocence that I knew immediately something terrible was about to happen to the poor man. "You’ll help Eris with whatever she needs to get started."

Aldric’s face went carefully blank. "Your Majesty?"

"Tutoring. Resources. Access to archives. Whatever she requires to understand Nevareth’s political structure, economic systems, court protocols—all of it."

Soren’s tone was perfectly reasonable, as though he were assigning a routine task rather than essentially throwing his overworked secretary into close proximity with a woman he clearly didn’t trust.

"You’re the most knowledgeable person about how this empire actually functions. You’ll be invaluable."

Aldric looked like Soren had just stabbed him. His jaw clenched, his knuckles going white around the documents he still held. For a moment, I thought he might actually protest.

But then his training reasserted itself, and he bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

The words came out perfectly respectful and completely devoid of enthusiasm.

I couldn’t resist.

"I promise to be a good student, Aldric." I smiled at him... sweet, innocent, absolutely calculated to make him even more uncomfortable. "I’m very eager to learn. I hope you have patience for someone who asks many, many questions."

His eye twitched. Just barely. But I saw it.

Soren was trying very hard not to laugh.

Before anyone could respond, there was a knock at the door and Ryse entered without waiting for permission. He took one look at the three of us, Soren barely containing amusement, Aldric looking like he was planning elaborate revenge, me smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth and sighed.

"Your Majesty, the border generals have arrived. They’re waiting in the war room."

Soren’s expression shifted immediately, irritation flickering across his face. "Now?"

"You scheduled the meeting for three," Ryse said pointedly. "It is now three."

"Right." Soren ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. "Of course." He turned to me, and something in his expression softened. "Don’t terrorize Aldric too much. I need him functional."

Then to Aldric: "Be nice. She bites."

He didn’t even glance at Bjorn on his way to the door, clearly knowing the wolf wouldn’t follow.

Because Bjorn had found something more interesting.

As Soren and Ryse left, closing the door behind them, I was left alone with Aldric and a wolf who was currently staring at me with the kind of devotion usually reserved for people carrying fresh meat.

Aldric looked at me with barely concealed wariness.

Well this is going to be fun, I thought.

I looked back at him with equal assessment.

Bjorn’s tail thumped once against the floor, apparently satisfied with this arrangement.

"Well," I said finally. "Shall we begin?"