The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1188 - 182 - Myrcella’s Plan (1)

Leon’s POV

"Leon," Myrcella said.

Her voice pulled me back to the present.

I was in her room, again. The same room that had slowly turned into a second office for her. Papers were stacked on the desk, neatly arranged but obviously untouched for hours. A faint scent of ink and parchment lingered in the air, mixed with something more subtle. And that was fatigue. The kind that seeped into everything and refused to leave.

She looked worse than before.

Not sick and not injured—but worn down. Gaunt. Her cheeks were a little hollow, her eyes duller than usual, rimmed with shadows that no amount of composure could hide. The bags under her eyes weren’t subtle anymore. They were blatant, like her body was openly protesting against how hard she’d been pushing herself.

She was exhausted.

And it wasn’t the kind of tired that went away with a nap.

I could tell she was thinking about this seriously. No—extremely seriously. Every choice she made now mattered. Every delay, every compromise, as well as every concession to the administration weighed on her like a stone.

Well, it was natural.

This wasn’t just some minor reform or ceremonial duty. This was something that could decide the future of the Kingdom of Milham. If she failed, the kingdom wouldn’t just stagnate—it would fracture. The tension that had been building under the surface would finally tear it apart from within.

Her goal was simple on paper and impossible in reality.

She needed support. Real support. Enough of it that the academy would be forced to open its doors fully—to allow every cadet to enroll, train, and graduate as proper magic knights.

Not half-measures. Not exceptions. Not compromises.

Everyone.

But progress was slow.

Painfully slow.

To be fair, she was making progress. More than anyone else could’ve managed in her position. Deals were being negotiated, lines were being tested, opposition was being softened.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Not enough to finish it.

"Are you okay?" I asked, watching her closely. "You’ve got bags under your eyes."

She blinked, then smiled faintly, like she’d been expecting that comment.

"Well, that just means I’m working hard, right?" she said. Her voice was light, but there was a tired edge beneath it. "I think it’s better that way. If I achieve this through my own sweat and effort... then it’ll actually mean something. The satisfaction alone would be worth it."

I sighed.

"You’re pushing yourself too much."

"It’s fine," she said quickly, almost reflexively. "Really. I think it’s only natural that I exert myself like this." She paused, then continued more quietly. "My mother is doing everything she can to keep the kingdom running. Managing affairs, holding the nobles in check... and making sure the person who assassinated my father ends up on the guillotine."

Her hands clenched slightly in her lap.

"So, as her daughter," she continued, "knowing how hard she’s working... I don’t think I have the right to do any less."

When she put it that way, I didn’t have much to say.

Arguing would’ve felt wrong. Hollow. I couldn’t tell her she was wrong when everything she said was true.

Still, that didn’t make watching her like this any easier.

I stepped closer.

"Myrcella," I said, placing my hands on her shoulders.

They were rigid. Tense. Way more than they should’ve been. The muscles felt tight beneath my fingers, knotted from stress and long hours hunched over desks and documents.

Without really thinking about it, I started massaging them gently.

"What is it?" she asked, glancing up at me.

"Rest for a bit." 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"Huh?"

"Just take a short break," I said. "I know you’re in a hurry. I know everything feels urgent. But if you keep going like this, your body’s going to give out before your plans ever do." I softened my voice. "Just a little rest. That’s all I’m asking."

She hesitated.

"O-Okay," she said finally, sounding a bit unsure—but she smiled anyway.

I think she knew. Knew that I wasn’t ordering her. Just worrying.

We lay down on the bed together. The mattress dipped beneath our weight, the tension easing ever so slightly as gravity did its work. Her body pressed against mine, warm and solid, a quiet reminder that she was still human—still someone who needed rest, no matter how strong she tried to be.

"Leon," she said softly. "Want me to jerk you off?"

I huffed out a short laugh.

"Nah. Just rest."

As tempting as the offer was, the timing was wrong. She was exhausted to her core, and the last thing I wanted was to take more from her when she already had nothing left to give.

"Fufufufu," she chuckled. "I love you, Leon."

She leaned in and kissed my cheek.

That was all it took.

Within minutes, her breathing evened out. Her body relaxed completely, tension melting away as sleep claimed her without resistance. She didn’t fight it. She couldn’t.

She was out.

I stayed with her.

Three hours passed.

When she finally stirred, sunlight had shifted through the window, painting the room in softer colors.

"Good morning," I said quietly. "Well... good afternoon, technically."

She blinked, clearly disoriented.

"What time is it?"

"Afternoon," I replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," she said, stretching slightly. "Like a baby."

She smiled—genuinely this time.

Seeing that alone made the wait worth it.

"Leon," she said after a moment. "Thank you."

I smiled back. "You’re welcome."

***

Myrcella’s POV

After Leon and I parted ways, I headed straight for the council’s office.

The moment I stepped inside, the weight returned.

Nothing was going well.

The campaign I was trying to push through was stuck, tangled in bureaucracy and resistance. The administration was cautious, hesitant, and in some cases outright hostile. Every discussion felt like wading through mud and every negotiation dragging on longer than it should.

There were too many variables. Too many voices.

I still had so much to consider, so many angles left unresolved. And no matter how much progress I made, it never felt like enough.

For the first time in a while, doubt crept in.

What if I couldn’t do it?

What if I failed the cadets?

The thought made my chest tighten. If I broke that promise, my credibility would shatter. Everything I stood for would lose its weight.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I wouldn’t.

Taking a breath, I reached for my phone.

"Hello," I said once the call connected.

"Princess Myrcella," came the reply. "It’s rare for you to call me. What is it?"

"Hello, Senior Artemis," I said, steadying my voice. "I’d like to meet with you. There’s something I want to discuss."

She was the former student council president.

And possibly my best chance.