Obey Me Now

“I heard their relationship was bad, but… so that’s the reason?”

“I want Edzoff to feel the same pain I did. The same heartbreak, the same unbearable sense of loss.”

Amelia’s words made Mami’s expression turn somber.

“I want my revenge to be perfect. I will take away the one thing he desires most.”

“And what is that?”

Amelia’s answer was short and clear.

“The throne.”

Mami froze, holding her breath as the weight of Amelia’s words sank in.

“How would you… No, you couldn’t mean—!”

“If he loses the throne to the brother he despises, perhaps he’ll finally understand a fraction of the despair I’ve felt.”

“So, you plan to marry Duke Clio… but is that even possible?”

“In the Solan Empire, it’s not entirely impossible. After all, the Emperor doesn’t have sole discretion over who inherits the throne.”

The Solan Empire’s process of royal succession was unlike any other. Drawing upon the spirit of the sun that shines equally on all, the selection of the next emperor required the judgment of both the Emperor and the five ducal houses that safeguarded the empire. Only a prince who demonstrated leadership and earned the respect of the dukes could ascend the throne. Until the day of judgment, the princes held the title of duke and worked tirelessly to prove their worth.

Currently, Edzoff had the favor of the dukes and the Emperor’s affection. The Emperor’s decision to entrust him with the warm and prosperous southern territories was a testament to this. In stark contrast, Duke Clio, also a prince, had been exiled to the frozen, desolate northern territories—a punishment influenced heavily by Edzoff’s manipulations.

“The five ducal houses would never support Duke Clio for the throne,” Mami said with certainty.

“At least House Fiore will back him,” Amelia replied firmly.

“House Fiore? But even the Duke of Fiore wouldn’t…”

“I’ll make it happen. I’ll make him emperor.”

Amelia’s voice carried unwavering resolve.

“I’ll be the one to choose him, to crown him.”

Mami could barely comprehend her mistress’s words, but she understood enough to know the monumental difficulty of the path Amelia was setting for herself.

“You’re going to claim the title of Duke of Fiore?”

“Yes. If I become the head of House Fiore, I’ll have the authority to decide the next emperor.”

For so long, Amelia had been at the mercy of others’ choices. Now, she would wield the power to make those choices herself.

“But you know what that means. House Fiore is a Musketeer family. You can’t become the head if you can’t use a gun. The family wouldn’t accept it.”

“That’s why I have so much work ahead of me.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to ask the Duke of Fiore for help?”

“No. His health is already failing. I don’t want to burden him further.”

The current Duke of Fiore, Belvan, had stepped back from his duties due to his deteriorating health, prompting the family to search for a successor.

“This is something I have to do myself. With that power, I can support Duke Clio and make him the next contender for the throne. Only then can I strip everything from Edzoff.”

Mami couldn’t fully grasp the depths of Amelia’s plans, but she understood one thing clearly: Amelia was about to embark on a grueling, near-impossible path. She resolved to support her mistress no matter what.

“Alright. I’ll help you in any way I can. But first things first, you need to marry Duke Clio. Do you think he’ll agree? He’s a war-obsessed monster…”

Amelia began scribbling on a parchment with swift, deliberate strokes.

“I’ll start with a proposal letter. There’s a magic communication device here, isn’t there?”

Magical communication devices could instantly warp letters to their recipients but were prohibitively expensive, accessible only to nobles.

“Yes, there is, but…”

“I need to meet him to persuade him, and he’s never come to the capital since he went north.”

“I’ve never seen him at any social events. Honestly, I’m not even sure he’s human. Nobody’s ever seen his face.”

The rumors surrounding Duke Clio were endless—monstrous, cursed, hideously disfigured. The more Mami thought about it, the less she liked the idea of this marriage.

“My lady, are you truly going to marry him? Even for revenge, what if he’s as horrible as the rumors say? And what if he’s hideous?”

“Appearance and personality don’t matter. This isn’t a marriage of emotion.”

“My lady…”

“What matters is that he’s the one I need. I have to meet him somehow. This is the only way.”

Amelia’s expression was resolute.

“If I send this proposal, he’ll be so shocked he’ll have to meet me.”

This marriage had to remain a contract in secret; no evidence of its true nature could be left behind. A face-to-face meeting was essential.

“What if he’s so shocked he kills you on the spot?” Mami joked, half-serious.

“He wouldn’t dare. He’s still a duke.”

Ignoring Mami’s grumbling, Amelia clenched the simple yet decisive proposal letter in her hands, steeling herself.

“It’ll work out. I can do this. I will marry that monster duke, no matter what!”

In a bustling inn, a man clad in a black robe sat anxiously, glancing toward the door. Though his hood obscured his face, glimpses of his foreign bronze skin and dark red hair could be seen. A jagged scar beneath his fierce black eyes added to his intimidating appearance.

“Where could he be? Staying out all night without a word!”

His voice was a mix of irritation and unease.

“Could it have something to do with that woman he saved yesterday? Who is she, anyway?”

Just then, the inn’s door creaked open, and the lively chatter inside fell silent. All eyes turned toward the figure who entered.

Draped in thick animal hides and wearing a hood that covered half his face, the man strode in calmly, exuding a raw, untamed aura. He was unmistakably a man from the North.

The robed figure immediately stood and saluted crisply.

“Your Grace! Where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Quiet.”

The man who had entered was none other than Eclite Riot Clio, the Black Lion of the North. Despite being a duke and a prince of the empire, his barbaric appearance was worlds away from the polished image of royalty. He had come south for a secret mission but was supposed to have returned the previous day. Instead, he’d stayed out all night, leaving his escort, Cahill, bewildered and frustrated.

“Could this have something to do with the woman you saved in the mountains?”

“Keihil.”

At the sound of his name spoken with force, Keihil flinched and quickly changed the subject.

“A-anyway, we should return to the North immediately. You’re leaving today, right?”

“Not sure.”

“Pardon?”

“I wanted to see her just once… but when she asked me to stay, I found myself wanting more.”

“What are you talking about?”

Keihil couldn’t make sense of the cryptic words. Meanwhile, Eclite stared blankly at his own hands for a moment before his gaze sharpened and landed back on Keihil.

“Did you catch them?”

“Catch who?” Keihil paused before realizing. “Oh, the bandits? No, Your Grace. With all the chaos you caused, none could have survived. They were all buried in the landslide.”

“They died too easily.”

Eclite’s lips curled in displeasure.

“Still, it’s strange. That area isn’t known for bandits. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Which is why I feel an even greater urge to stay close,” Eclite muttered.

“Close to whom? Don’t tell me—”

Before Keihil could finish his sentence, someone approached Eclite and whispered something into his ear before handing him an envelope. Keihil raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

“What’s that?”

“A letter.”

“How could anyone know you’re here, Your Grace?”

“I had all correspondence to the North redirected to this location.”

“Were you waiting for something?”

Eclite’s fingers trembled slightly as he opened the envelope. His voice, normally cold and measured, grew faintly warmer.

“I’ve been waiting for this. For quite a while.”

Eclite rose to his feet, and Keihil instinctively followed.

“Are we finally heading back? Shall I prepare the horses?”

“Yes. But before that…”

Eclite glanced down at his rugged attire, then sighed. Without warning, he grabbed Keihil’s robe and draped it over himself.

“I’ll be borrowing this.”

“Wait! Where are you going? Aren’t you returning to the North?”

“I have a reply to deliver.”

“A reply? To whom?”

Eclite turned and walked away, his previously rigid expression softening, just barely. Keihil stood frozen, staring after his retreating figure, utterly bewildered.

“Why is he acting like this? Couldn’t he at least explain what’s going on?”

His gaze fell to the discarded envelope Eclite had left behind. Picking it up, he unfolded the letter and read its contents.

“What is this? A… proposal?”

Keihil’s eyes widened in shock as he read the brief but audacious message:

“I fell in love at first sight. Please marry me, Eclite Riot Clio, Duke of the North. Yours sincerely, Amelia Cesaret.”