"Father! I wanna get married!"
The words hung in the air like a rogue fart at a royal banquet. The room went silent.
Ren who just finished serving tea paused still holding the porcelain kettle, their head comically turned to Silver at the same time.
The Emperor, Vanhaussen Archaumbault, paused mid-sip of his tea, his brows climbing higher than the mountain peaks in the Archaum Territory.
"You may now excuse yourself," the Emperor dismissed Ren who was equally bewildered. It only took him a few seconds to completely disappear from their sight.
Silver fiddled with her fingers as she sat there awkwardly. It took all the courage within her to muster saying those words.
The Emperor and the original Hiraya didn't really have a close relationship. Having no idea how to confront her father, she decided to just go with it rather than beating around the bush. One wrong word could ruin all of her plan. Less words, less mistakes.
One of her many talents when she was still Silver was making use of all kinds of resources available at her disposal as long as it serves her purpose. Silver had been an amazing people-pleaser and she used all the connections she made to gain advantages against her colleagues.
She was a slave of money. Where there is incentive, there is Silver.
Right then, Silver remembered one scene from the novel. Where the Emperor found out all of Hiraya's plan behind the scene and just dismissed it. He definitely have a soft spot for his daughter and Silver is willing to bet on that chance.
"Come again, daughter?" The Emperor said, setting down the delicate porcelain cup with a clink that echoed in the otherwise silent room. His voice was deep. His dark hair, streaked with white at the front, and his golden eyes — mirroring hers — shot at her.
Their resemblance was almost uncanny. A mole above his right eyebrow was also noticeable. She was momentarily in awe of his beauty as soon as she got a good look at him. The man in front of her had a 19-year-old daughter, and here he was looking like a 25-year-old man himself.
Is this what they called the power of the main character?
The authoritative man was, apparently, utterly bewildered by her sudden announcement. Silver swallowed, trying to project an air of regal confidence that she definitely did not possess.
But she was Silver, an overworked office worker. She won't easily back down under pressure.
"I want to get married," she repeated, her voice a little steadier this time. She meet his eyes directly, never batting an eye despite her throat feeling like a dessert.
His stunning stature was the one making it hard for her to focus. He was blindingly gorgeous even after being visibly fatigued.
Yep, that man fathered Hiraya, alright. That's exactly what a father of a protagonist should look like.
"And not like in five years when I'm twenty four. I want to get married now. Like, next week now."
A muscle twitched in the Emperor's jaw. His face looked like he was trying to decide whether to call for the Imperial Physician or the Royal Exorcist right that moment. Everything that comes out on his daughters mouth was not making some sense for him.
Maybe he should call both.
"Daughter," he began, his tone laced with a patience Silver suspected was wearing thin, "you are nineteen years old, and while that is a marriageable age for a normal person… you are the Crown Princess. You are also… indisposed, as of late."
He paused, obviously referring to her condition. The Emperor cleared his throat as if realizing he just brought up a sensitive topic.
"Marriage is a serious matter, not some… teenage whim." he leaned his back against the couch.
"And this is the first time we've seen each other in three months. Shouldn't you think of a better way to greet your father?"
"But Father," she whined, channeling her inner spoiled princess (which, apparently, wasn't hard to do). This felt like a dream for Silver. Growing up an orphan she never had a chance to act spoiled. She was born to do this.
"I'm lonely! All I do is sit around in my chambers, being pampered and waited on. It's so boring! I need a husband to you know… spice things up." Every words that came out of Silver's mouth she would observed her father's reaction. She need to tread carefully. The same man in front of her would never bat an eye in taking someone's life.
If it was Hiraya, she would never even dare ask him for a favor… but here she was, basically demanding a husband like ordering takeout.
Silver can't help it. Their lack of connection in the novel was the reason she was having a hard time to begin with.
The Emperor stared at her, his expression unreadable.
"Spice things up?" he repeated flatly.
"Yes! Like… adventures! And… pillow talk! And… someone to argue with about what kind of flowers to plant in the royal gardens!" she continued rambling, making it up as she went along.
"You were never interested in flowers…"
"But I do now."
The Emperor steepled his fingers beneath his chin, his gaze piercing through her.
"And who, pray tell, do you have in mind as the lucky groom who will provide you with these 'adventures' and 'pillow talk'?" His voice was cold. She almost choked on her own breath.
Silver took a deep breath and blurted it out,
"Duke Dashiell Felice!"
The Emperor's reaction was immediate and… disappointing. He didn't choke, faint, or even spill his tea. He simply sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the entire empire.
"Absolutely not," he said, his voice firm.
Silver's mouth flew open.
"What? Why not?"
"Because, daughter," he said, his voice laced with exasperation,
"Duke Felice is not a prize to be won at a princess's fancy. He resides in the north, guarding the borders. He is needed there. That man has never had interest in power. And besides," he added, narrowing his eyes,
"I highly doubt that bloodthirsty lad would agree to leave his post to become your… plaything. The man I know would rather die than make that happen."
"He wouldn't be my plaything!" Silver protested.
"I'd be a wonderful wife! I'm… responsible! And… generous! And I make excellent tea!"
The Emperor raised an eyebrow.
"You've never made your own tea since the day you came out of your mother's womb," he pointed out dryly.
Damn it! She internally cursed. She had forgot about that.
"And besides, the Duke grew up and lived in the North. You've never even caught a glimpse of his shadow."
"But he was a man of merit! I don't want to slowly rot alone in my bedchamber, just waiting until the day I succumb to my illness. That is not how I want to live!"
"What if I faint while walking in the garden, Father? Who will carry me to safety?" she added, her reasons getting more and more ridiculous even for her.
The Emperor's expression softened slightly.
"But that is not a reason to marry someone, daughter. Marriage should be based on…"
"Political alliance? Strategic advantage? Securing the empire's future?" Silver interrupted, ticking off the reasons on her fingers like counting dollars.
"Isn't that how the court works?"
She'd read a lot of novels about those in her previous life, so she was familiar.
The Emperor sighed again, rubbing his temples.
"Those are factors to consider, yes. But marriage should also be based on mutual respect, affection, and…" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
"Love?" she supplied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The Emperor after all only loved one woman in his lifetime.
Please! What is love if she's nearing her deathbed? She'll worry about that later. She didn't even know if she'd make it past twenty-one. Everyone needs to make sacrifices.
The Emperor gave her a stern look.
"Enough. This is not a matter of discussion. You may now excuse yourself."
And with that, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand, turning back to his paperwork, never even leaving a room for arguments.
Silver stormed out of the Emperor's chambers, her cheeks burning with frustration. So much for a sure-fire plan.
She didn't think the plan of hers was going to work anytime soon. Good thing she's used to rejection. Her work used to be rejected all the time in the office, especially when her boss was having a bad day. She was a record holder against her colleagues, too. Accepting defeat was like a second nature to her.
"Natasha! Bring me a pen and paper back in my cham— I mean, a quill and parchment!" she corrected before storming out her heels clacking across the marbled floor.
Who cares if her Plan A didn't work. She had expected much! Vanhaussen is a fickle man. He was never the type to be easily manipulated. If she had to make Plan B, C, D— heck, she'd make it all the way to Q if it's necessary!