The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 417: Concern

Across the palace, the atmosphere in the Emperor’s study was thick enough to choke a horse. Soren was submerged in a sea of paperwork, his quill moving with a mechanical, joyless precision.

He had been at his desk since before dawn, and as the afternoon light began to fade, he showed no signs of stopping.

He looked terrible. There were circles under his eyes, and his hair, usually so perfectly managed, was windswept and disheveled from where he had repeatedly run his hands through it in frustration.

Yet, despite the exhaustion, the harsh light of the office only emphasized the sharp, tragic beauty of his features.

Aldric sat opposite him, reviewing a stack of witness testimonies. He hadn’t spoken in an hour, but his irritation was growing with every heavy sigh Soren exhaled.

He watched as Soren reached for a new document, dipped his quill, and then... froze. Soren’s hand hovered over the parchment, the ink dripping to form a dark blotch. His eyes were unfocused, staring at a point on the wall as if he were trying to see through the stone to the rooms beyond.

Gods, he looks miserable, Aldric thought, his jaw tightening. Like someone kicked his puppy. No... like someone took his wife. Which, technically, he did to himself.

This had been the pattern for four days. Soren avoiding the shared chambers. Soren sleeping on the narrow, uncomfortable divan in the study. Soren pining like a lovesick squire while pretending to be an indomitable ruler.

"Your Majesty," Aldric said, his voice firm and laced with a parental edge.

Soren didn’t look up. "I’m fine, Aldric. Just a long list of grievances from the Southern Archons." He began to sign the blotched paper, his movements jerky.

"You haven’t slept in seventy-two hours," Aldric countered, crossing his arms. "You’re going to collapse mid-sentence, and then I’ll have to explain to the High Council why their Emperor is drooling on a trade treaty. The empire needs a healthy ruler, not a walking corpse."

"Too much work," Soren muttered, his voice raspy. "Vetra’s supporters are stirring in the borderlands. I can’t afford to rest."

Aldric stood up, leaning over the desk until he was directly in Soren’s line of sight. "If you miss your wife so badly..." He paused, letting the silence hang heavy between them. "Why don’t you just go see her?"

Soren’s quill stopped mid-stroke. He looked up sharply, his sapphire eyes wide with a mix of shock and defensiveness. "I don’t... "

"You’re a terrible liar, Your Majesty," Aldric interrupted, his stare unimpressed. "You’ve been avoiding her for days. You’re practically vibrating with the effort of not walking down that hallway."

"I’m not avoiding her," Soren snapped, though his voice lacked conviction. "I’ve been busy. There’s a difference."

"Busy. Right." Aldric began to count on his fingers. "Busy sleeping in your study. Busy sending servants every hour to check if she’s eating. Busy asking me if she is okay. Busy asking the guards if she’s resting. If that’s ’busy,’ Soren, then I’m the Queen of Solmire."

Soren’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t deny a single word. The "concern" he had been masking as imperial duty was transparent to the man who had known him since he was a clueless youth.

"That’s concern," Soren said quietly, looking away. "Not avoidance."

"Your Majesty, with all due respect... if you miss her, just go. Whatever you think is stopping you... whatever ghost you’re fighting... it’s not worth this."

"You don’t understand," Soren whispered. There was a sudden, sharp pain in his voice that made Aldric’s irritation vanish, replaced by genuine concern.

"Then..." Aldric said softly. "Talk to her, at least."

Aldric knew it was about Caelen. He had seen the way Soren looked whenever the King’s name was mentioned. He knew his Emperor was a man who felt he was playing a part in a play where the lead actress was still in love with the previous leading man.

A sharp knock at the door cut through the tension.

"Your Majesty," the guard announced from the other side. "Empress Eris requests entry."

Soren froze. His eyes went wide, and his heart gave a violent, painful thump against his ribs. No, no, no, not now...

He instinctively tried to stand, knocking a stack of papers to the floor. He looked like a man who had just been told his palace was on fire.

Aldric stood there, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. Perfect timing, he thought.

"Let her in," Soren said, though the words came out in a slightly strangled, higher-than-normal pitch. He frantically tried to straighten the papers on his desk, his hands fumbling. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to look like an Emperor and failing miserably.

The door swung open, and Eris stepped through.

Soren’s brain simply stopped functioning.

She looked beautiful... always... but in the golden afternoon light of the study, she looked like an apparition. The soft glow from the high windows caught the snowy hue in her hair and turned her amber eyes into molten gold. She was wearing a simple, elegant gown of deep crimson, and the sight of her was so sudden and so visceral that Soren forgot how to breathe.

Gods, he thought, his pulse racing. How does she keep getting more beautiful? Every time I see her, it’s like seeing the sun for the first time.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He just stared at her, his mouth slightly agape, looking like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights.

The tension in the room became a living thing... thick, vibrating, and heavy with the four days of silence they had endured. Eris stopped a few feet from the desk, her own eyes wide and searching as they found his. For a moment, the rest of the world... the treaties, the arrests, the trials... simply ceased to exist.

Aldric watched the two of them, his internal monologue a mix of amusement and pity. Oh, this is bad, he thought. They’re both one step away from a total collapse.

He knew they needed privacy, and they needed it immediately.

Aldric stood smoothly, offering a professional bow to Eris. "Your Majesty, it is good to see you."

Eris offered him a small, genuine smile. She had always liked Aldric; he was the only one who seemed to treat her like a person rather than a political piece. "Aldric."

Aldric turned back to Soren, giving him a pointed, meaningful look that clearly said: Fix this, you fool.

"I’ll return later to finish the manifests, Your Majesty," Aldric said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He exited the room with a quick, efficient grace, the heavy doors clicking shut behind him.

Soren and Eris were finally alone.