Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

Scarlett returned to her seat in the galleries, where Lady Withersworth and Duchess Valentino awaited her. The former greeted her with a knowing smile as she settled down.

“For a moment there,” Lady Withersworth remarked, her voice low and tinged with amusement, “I half-expected Count Hayden to spontaneously combust before the entire conclave. But it seems my concerns were unfounded. Though it seems you did not have to do much yourself, you handled the situation with admirable grace, considering things, dear.”

Scarlett cast a sidelong glance at the older woman, noting the widening of the duchess’ eyes at the first comment. Her own attention drifted to the central table below. “You have been listening to too many of Miss Hale’s fanciful tales, Lady Withersworth,” she replied simply. “I am not so reckless as to publicly disfigure a high-ranking noble of the empire, regardless of the provocation.”

She just entertained the idea of doing so.

Lady Withersworth let out a light chuckle. “No, of course not. Yet you still silenced him quite effectively, despite your restraint. That was a rather curious statement you made to Count Hayden earlier. I daresay the count will be occupied with some rather urgent ‘housekeeping’ in the coming weeks.”

“He is welcome to try.” Scarlett’s sharp gaze fixed on the man, still seated with a deep frown etched across his face.

Lady Withersworth wasn’t the only one who had picked up on Scarlett’s veiled threat, nor Count Hayden’s reaction. Whispers would undoubtedly spread, and quiet inquiries would probably follow, no matter what happened next. The count probably hoped Scarlett either lacked concrete evidence to back her insinuations or chose not to disclose it if she did, buying him time to cover his tracks where necessary. But for Scarlett, a favor from Beldon would be enough to set the wheels in motion, and the man owed her plenty.

She doubted Count Hayden would lose his title or anything, but it would at least send a message. In that way, she was lucky. The count was pretty easy for her to target, compared to some others.

Her eyes briefly shifted to Duke Valentino, then to Lord Withersworth and his associates, who had remained unusually subdued throughout most of the evening. Scarlett supposed that she had inadvertently removed one enemy player from their political chessboard. While she wasn’t necessarily allied with either the duke or Lord Withersworth—she still wasn’t sure of the latter’s full agenda—it might not even make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. At the very least, they were unlikely to become her enemies in the near future.

Imperial Advisor Blackwood’s harmonious voice cut through the murmur of conversation around the chamber, pulling the assembly back to order. The emperor redirected the focus of the proceedings to the matters at hand, encouraging open discussion on how best to allocate and position the combined forces and resources to combat the growing monster incursions and Tribe threat.

Most of the logistical groundwork had already been done, with both imperial forces and independent groups like the Followers and Shields Guild handling much of the coordination. Now, though, the emperor sought to foster dialogue about how the factions could further collaborate and the like. Scarlett only half-listened, to be honest, massaging the bridge of her nose occasionally in vain attempts to alleviate her dull headache.

Though these talks were technically relevant to her barony and its ongoing relief efforts, she wasn’t well-versed enough in the details to keep up with all that was being said. Despite her recent efforts to educate herself and keep on top of reports, she was still far from an expert in these kinds of operations. Fortunately, with Lady Withersworth overseeing matters while Evelyne was recuperating, the barony already had things covered.

That’s why Scarlett allowed herself a moment of rest so that she could conserve enough mental energy to stick through the remainder of the evening.

As the discussions dragged on, Lord Withersworth rose from his seat. Immediately, Scarlett’s attention snapped back to the present as a hush fell over the assembly. All eyes turned to the older gentleman as if in anticipation of him finally speaking up after remaining silent until now.

“That dolt,” Scarlett heard Lady Withersworth mutter under her breath. “Look at him, standing tall when it’s clear as day he’s been neglecting sleep and proper meals. If he’s intent on leaving me a widow, he could at least have the decency to revise his will first.”

Lord Withersworth, oblivious to his wife’s biting remarks, cleared his throat, the sound ringing through the now-quiet chamber. “Esteemed peers,” he began, his voice more commanding now than Scarlett had ever heard it before. “While we have addressed many crucial matters already, I wish to bring forth a separate motion for consideration. One that may represent a matter of almost unprecedented significance. What I am about to present is, in the opinion of myself and my distinguished associates, the most comprehensive strategy for countering the threat posed by the Tribe of Sin and the current monster incursions. Indeed, it may even prove to be one of the most ambitious undertakings of our time.”

A ripple of anticipation fell over the Forum as those gathered waited for him to continue.

“We have been working closely with select mages and wizards from the towers and the Ustrum Assembly to devise this approach,” he declared, his gaze sweeping across the chamber. “Once you hear the details, I’m certain you will all grasp its importance, if not its necessity. In essence, we have found a method to erect a barrier that inhibits the Tribe of Sin’s teleportation abilities within all imperial lands, effectively preventing them from launching any further attacks on our settlements.”

A wave of astonished and stunned murmurs rippled through the galleries, and even Scarlett was slightly taken aback.

“Are you speaking in earnest, Lord Withersworth?” Duke Roscoe called from his seat opposite at the central table, his voice thick with a healthy dose of skepticism.

“I am.”

The duke leaned forward, brow furrowed. “…That is an extraordinary claim, if so. But there must be more to it, else you wouldn’t bring such a proposal before this conclave. I have never heard of magic capable of such a feat on this scale.”

“I can assure you that it is most definitely possible.” Lord Withersworth straightened his sleeves calmly. “I have personally consulted with numerous reputable mages, including Elystead Tower’s Dean Godwin, the Ustrum Assembly’s Master Docent Ainsworth, and our own Imperial Advisor Blackwood. All have confirmed its viability.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “However, this is no simple task. My colleagues and I, along with our dedicated subordinates, have spent countless sleepless nights over the past two weeks scrutinising every aspect of this proposition. By all accounts, an endeavour of this magnitude would rival great projects like the construction of the Everdust Barrier or the Singing Sands Palace on the Luicean Isles. Given the urgency of our situation, it must also be completed within a remarkably short time frame.”

Scarlett glanced around as hushed conversations broke out. Even Lady Withersworth, usually so composed, seemed taken aback by her husband’s revelation.

It had been clear that Lord Withersworth and certain other influential figures tied to the crown had been planning something big lately, but even Beldon’s network had failed to uncover the details. The fact that they had managed to keep it hidden even from Mirage was, in its own way, impressive. All those involved must have been working under the strictest of confidentiality agreements, which meant they were serious about being able to present this motion tonight without giving the opposition time to prepare.

“What exactly is the scale we are discussing here?” the Imperial General asked seriously.

Lord Withersworth gestured towards Lord Fitzroy, the High Treasurer, seated to his right. Lord Fitzroy’s expression was grave. “By current estimates,” he said, steepling his fingers, “the cost of this project would require an investment of materials exceeding four billion solars in value… to be gathered within one month.”

An uproar of gasps and exclamations erupted around the chamber as the assembled nobles and dignitaries heard the figure. Even Scarlett found herself staring at the man in disbelief.

Four billion solars? In one month? That was insane. She had thought she’d accumulated a pretty considerable wealth for a baroness over the past six months or so, but even her fortune—including everything she’d already spent—only amounted to a few million solars. A duke’s fortune might be larger, but she doubted any would have more than a couple hundred million solars. Even then, most noble wealth would likely be tied up in lands, businesses, and other assets.

“This is preposterous!” someone shouted from the galleries, their outburst quickly joined by a chorus of similar sentiments.

“Are you here simply to waste our time?” a noble at the central table demanded, glaring at Lord Withersworth and his associates.

“Quite the opposite,” Count Stansfold, one of Lord Withersworth’s allies, answered with unflappable patience. “This is the single most effective way of handling the Tribe of Sin, as we would be stripping them of their most potent weapon. Our citizens live in constant fear, and as many here tonight have been so eager to point out, our forces are strained to deal with the incursions. This proposal offers the best chance to protect both our people and our empire.”

“If it weren’t impossibly expensive, perhaps,” someone retorted.

“What would this mean for the Kilnstone network?” another noble asked.

“It would also be affected,” Lord Withersworth admitted, triggering another wave of outrage.

Duke Roscoe shook his head. “So this motion of yours would not only cripple our empire’s finances, but our own trade and logistics as well?”

“The empire is more than capable of functioning without access to the Kilnstone network,” the Chancellor of Trade interjected. “And since the attack two weeks ago, we have already begun implementing measures to reduce our immediate reliance on it. The routes established to transport relief supplies will be sufficient to handle the additional strain that the absence of the Kilnstones would represent.”

“And how long would this last?” one voice demanded.

“Until the current threat has passed, or as long as necessary,” came the response.

“There is no telling how long that could be!”

The debate intensified, with seemingly every person in the chamber clamoring to be heard.

“What do you make of this, dear?” Lady Withersworth asked quietly, turning to Scarlett.

Scarlett glanced at the woman. “I am withholding judgement,” she replied, her eyes flicking back to the central table. “For now.”

She had lots of thoughts, but much depended on the finer details.

“Tell us more about the specifics of this proposal,” Duke Valentino said, finally cutting through the noise. The portly man’s gaze settled on Lord Withersworth and his colleagues. “Is this a one-time expense? Once this ‘barrier’ is removed, can it be reactivated?”

“Not quite, and it depends,” Lord Withersworth replied. “The barrier consists of a single immense spell array spread across the empire, but casting and maintaining it would require establishing vital infrastructure throughout our lands. The Kilnstone network would serve as its foundation, but we would also need to construct certain structures—’pylons’, our mages call them—near each Kilnstone. These pylons require significant investment, including rare and costly materials, specialised magical ingredients, and skilled labor. Much of this would be provided by the mage towers and the Assembly, with some assistance from the large merchant guilds in sourcing what we lack. A large portion of the cost comes from this, but even more will be required for the array’s upkeep, as it consumes vast amounts of mana. Regarding what happens after we deactivate it, the pylons themselves will remain, so they can be reused, though it would come with additional costs.”

Duke Valentino nodded, taking in the explanation. Around the chamber, some heads bobbed in agreement, though just as many or more shook in disapproval.

“I still fail to see how this can in any way be considered a reasonable measure,” Duke Roscoe said sharply. “At a time like this, we should focus on practical solutions, not grandiose fantasies.”

“This is a practical solution,” Count Stanfold shot back. “And more complete than anything else proposed thus far.”

“And how do we intend to pay for it?” Duchess Swail questioned. “Four billion solars gathered in such a short period is not a burden the crown alone can bear. It would inevitably require considerable contributions from us nobles, many of whom are already struggling to protect our lands. How much are we expected to sacrifice for this project at the expense of our people?”

Lord Fitzroy spoke next, his tone measured. “We acknowledge that it is a substantial cost, and to demonstrate its commitment, the crown would finance half of this venture’s expenses, even if it means transferring ownership of a portion of the royal treasury’s reserves, selling imperial land, or cutting court expenses. However, the remaining half must indeed come from the noble houses and institutions. This is a collective investment in the future and safety of the entire empire — one we must all share.”

“And how would we decide who pays what?” the duchess pressed further.

“That remains under discussion,” Lord Fitzroy replied. “But before we can divide the burden, we must first decide whether to proceed with this plan at all.”

Duke Roscoe scoffed. “This is truly absurd. You claim this ‘barrier’ will work, but how can we even be so sure? What if this only hastens the downfall of the empire?”

There were sounds of agreement from those gathered.

A soft, melodious chuckle cut through the tense atmosphere, drawing everyone’s attention. Duke Roscoe scowled as his gaze shifted to the woman seated beside the emperor. “…Did I say something amusing, Lady Blackwood?”

Lady Evelia Blackwood, her raven hair framing an enigmatic smile, shook her head lightly. “Certainly not intentionally, Duke. I did, however, find it funny that you would so openly doubt their claims — especially after having heard my endorsement of their credibility. Should I perhaps take offense?”

“That was not my intent.”

“Then we have nothing to debate, do we? The array will function exactly as described,” she said, her smile deepening. “Whether the price is worth it is another question entirely.”

Duke Roscoe fell silent for several seconds, then turned back to the room. “…Let us suppose that it will work as claimed. Nevertheless, this is not a decision we can make here. These matters should be deliberated within the Imperial Diet, not at this forum.”

“That is where you are mistaken,” Lord Withersworth replied. “While the Imperial Diet is indeed where these decisions would normally be made, the Edict of Sovereign Necessity, enacted by Emperor Gautier II, empowers conclaves like this one to make swift and decisive actions to safeguard the realm in times of crisis. Is that not precisely why we are here tonight?”

His statement sparked another round of whispers, this time far less favorable. More than one noble shot dark looks in Withersworth’s direction.

Scarlett couldn’t blame them, considering the audacity hidden in those words.

Technically, Lord Withersworth wasn’t wrong. This was indeed the intended purpose of a conclave like this one. But there was a reason not all the empire’s nobles had chosen to attend tonight — and it wasn’t only because they were busy. While, officially, conclaves could be convened to enact far-reaching, empire-wide decisions, in practice, they just weren’t. And the reason for that was simple.

The nobles didn’t like it.

In the empire, the emperor wielded considerable power, but he did not hold absolute authority. As Duke Roscoe had pointed out, major decisions generally went through the Imperial Diet, and this wasn’t something easily bypassed.

A conclave was one of the few ways to do so. And while it was ostensibly a gathering of influential individuals meant to address urgent matters, it was even more so a relic of the empire’s early days. This was reflected in the fact that, regardless of what consensus those present might reach, the final decision ultimately rested with one person and one person alone: the emperor.

In theory, this allowed the emperor to bypass the usual channels and force through decisions that might otherwise face vehement opposition. However, even the most loyal nobles would view such an action with suspicion if abused. As a result, very few emperors had ever invoked this privilege, and conclaves had largely become ceremonial. Yet here were Lord Withersworth and his allies, brazenly defying that long-standing precedent.

Honestly, Scarlett could understand why many would be furious.

As the debates around her grew more heated, Scarlett’s gaze drifted towards the emperor himself. He sat there on his throne, silently observing the proceedings, his expression revealing nothing.

Several of his officials were among those backing this proposal, so he clearly had knowledge of it beforehand. The question was whether he actively supported it, or if he was merely letting Lord Withersworth and the others test the waters to gauge the conclave’s reaction.

For Scarlett, one reason this proposal was unexpected was that she didn’t recognise it from the game. There could be many reasons for this: perhaps it had never made it through this conclave, or maybe the accelerated timeline of events had pushed the emperor and nobles to consider more drastic actions. But even if the specifics were unfamiliar to her, certain aspects of this situation did align with her overall expectations.

That made her wonder who the original architect of the idea had been.

Her eyes flicked to Evelia Blackwood, seated to the emperor’s right. The woman didn’t look at all bothered by the continued buzz of discussions in the chamber, even as impassioned advocates on both sides made their cases.

Eventually, the emperor himself spoke.

“I understand that this is a divisive issue,” he said, the chamber quieting almost immediately. “Indeed, this motion is both drastic and far-reaching. Such momentous decisions must not be made lightly, even in circumstances as dire as these. However…” He paused, allowing a stretched silence to settle over the Forum as everyone waited for his next words. “For now, let us adjourn for a brief recess. This will give everyone time to reflect and gather their thoughts. We will reconvene to resume these discussions shortly.”

Scarlett frowned as disappointed murmurs rippled through the assembly. While she had known a break was on the agenda, she didn’t see the point. It was already getting late, and she would much have preferred to wrap things up rather than drag things out.

With a weary sigh, she accepted things as they were. She guessed this might actually suit her plans for the night as well.

As people slowly rose from their seats amid animated conversations, Scarlett’s eyes lingered momentarily on the emperor before moving to Leon, who stood watchfully at the chamber’s edge.

Speaking to him tonight probably wasn’t an option, judging from how things were looking. But there was someone else she wanted to meet.

She stood and turned to Lady Withersworth and Duke Valentino’s wife. “There is someone I must find during this recess. I will rejoin you when the session resumes.”

“Oh? Very well, dear. Take care,” Lady Withersworth replied with a smile. “If you need me, I’ll be cornering that oaf of a husband I have for a much-needed chat.”

Scarlett chose not to think about what that chat might entail. She didn’t envy Lord Withersworth right now. “I will keep that in mind.”

With that, she made to leave the gallery.

It was time to seek a private audience with a certain advisor.