The king had narrowly escaped being poisoned by the queen, and it was soon revealed that the mastermind behind the plot was none other than Duke Romanov. Once the truth was made public, it sent shockwaves throughout the entire Pradi Empire.
Not long after, the duke fled. Taking his followers with him, he openly resisted arrest and declared himself king. This act left no doubt about his long-concealed ambition for power.
Still recovering from his illness, the king immediately dispatched troops to the Romanov territory to suppress the rebellious duke. War broke out in the northwest of the Pradi Empire, and the entire nation watched with bated breath to see what would happen next.
Yet, most people didn't believe the duke's rebellion would succeed. The Romanov family might be powerful and control vast lands, but compared to the entire kingdom, they were still far too weak. Duke Romanov didn't have many troops under his command, nor did he possess any noteworthy military strategists. Despite the grand display of his uprising, he couldn't possibly go up against a king who held command over the Royal Knights and could summon additional troops from other noble families if needed. Without external support, the duke's failure was inevitable—just a matter of time.
Because of this, most nobles were certain that the outcome of this war was already set—the king's victory was assured.
But for those nobles who had once aligned themselves with Duke Romanov, fear had now taken hold.
During the king's illness, many had pledged allegiance to the duke, emboldened by his growing power. At one point, his faction had even overshadowed the loyalist Royalists and the neutral Nobility Party. If the king had died as expected, the duke's coup would have been an easy success.
However, now that the king had recovered and the duke's plot was exposed, the nobles who once supported him—many of whom were never truly loyal—began scrambling to protect themselves. They were fair-weather allies, after all—willing to follow whichever side promised more benefits. And now that the duke's ship was sinking, anyone still on board had to find a way to jump off—or risk going down with him.
What made it even worse was that Duke Romanov fled without warning any of his loyal supporters. So, on the very day of his escape, several nobles were arrested by the Royal Knights, completely unaware of what was coming.
The raid was massive. The Royal Knights rarely mobilized, but that day, they swept the entire capital. Countless nobles were arrested—every known supporter of the duke, without exception. Among them were even some nobles who had maintained neutrality or openly supported the king.
The initial arrest list only included the nobles who had openly sided with the duke early on. But under torture, Amos—the first to be captured—gave up a new list of names. Then those people, once arrested, began betraying others to save themselves. As the chain of accusations continued, the list of suspects grew longer and longer. By the end, just the number of well-known nobles implicated had reached over three hundred—let alone their retainers and household members.
The prisons in the capital were overflowing. Guards were doubled, even tripled, and the number of new detainees continued to rise. The prison warden was pulling his hair out.
After all, most of these prisoners were nobles. Everyone knew the king wouldn't execute all of them—they would be released eventually. That meant they couldn't be treated like ordinary prisoners. But nobles were notoriously picky, and the prison conditions weren't up to their standards. To accommodate their demands, the guards had to act more like hotel staff than prison wardens.
More and more people were being hauled off to jail every day. The atmosphere in the capital grew heavier with each passing moment. The once-bustling streets had fallen silent. Ordinary citizens didn't dare leave their homes, while the nobles—aside from the steadfast Royalists and the always low-profile Nobility Party—were in a state of panic. Everyone feared a knock at the door. Many wanted nothing more than to flee the capital and hide in their territories. But with the city under lockdown and nobles barred from even leaving the upper district, that was impossible.
Those not yet arrested could only huddle at home in fear. Families whose heads of household had already been taken were forced to swallow their fear and go out to beg for help—trying everything they could to get their people released.
They had no choice.
Under Pradi law, nobles could usually pay a fine to avoid punishment for crimes. At worst, they might lose their title or land. But this wasn't a normal case—conspiring to murder the king was tantamount to treason, and no amount of gold could buy one's way out of that.
All those arrested were being held on suspicion of conspiring with the duke to poison the king. If the king truly lost his temper and decided to execute them all, no other noble would be able to stop him.
Of course, most nobles knew that wasn't likely. The king was known for being shrewd and calculating—he wouldn't do something so extreme. But the involvement of Crown Prince Edward complicated things.
Though the prince's condition was being kept confidential, rumors were already circulating in the palace that he had also been poisoned. The nobles had all heard whispers of it.
They knew exactly how much the king loved his son. If grief made him irrational, who could guarantee he wouldn't lash out at others?
Even though most arrested nobles would likely be released eventually, someone had to take the fall. The more serious the charge, the higher the price. If they didn't start working behind the scenes now—before the trials began—who could say they wouldn't end up being the unlucky scapegoat who lost their life? And even if they escaped with their lives, they certainly didn't want to lose their lands or titles.
Thus, during this time of fear and uncertainty, some noble households were busier than ever. Every day, invitations arrived in droves—pleas for help to speak on someone's behalf before the king.
Among the most sought-after allies, besides those families favored by the king, was none other than the Williams family, whose merits in this crisis were unmatched.
By now, everyone knew that it was Countess Williams who had saved the king's life. The count himself had already been highly regarded by the king, and now, thanks to his wife's contribution, the Williams family's status had soared.
If Weiwei spoke up on someone's behalf, her one word would carry more weight than ten from anyone else.
Unfortunately, Weiwei was currently living in the palace, and the palace remained sealed to outsiders. The noblewomen whose husbands had been arrested couldn't even meet her—let alone ask for her help. So they turned their attention to Felix, who also spent most of his time in the palace but occasionally ventured out to manage his business affairs.
As a result, every time Felix left the palace, "coincidences" happened nonstop. Every banquet he attended became the hottest ticket in town, with nobles doing everything they could to score an invitation.
Felix was exasperated. He wanted no part in their schemes, but with everyone being so polite and deferential, it was hard for him to turn them away outright. Dealing with them gave him a constant headache.
Eventually, after enduring it a few times, he simply threw everything onto his subordinates and locked himself in the palace.
Ironically, when the king heard about this, he summoned Felix and even teased him over it.
The king told him, "You know, you could just accept the gifts they're giving you."
After all, if he didn't take them, someone else would. And whether he helped them or not—that was up to him.
Though the king had been furious and arrested so many people, he had since cooled down. He had no intention of punishing everyone. The real conspirators would not be spared, of course, but for the others—those proven to be unaware of the plot—he planned to release them after the investigation and trials, likely in exchange for a hefty ransom.
So even if Felix took their gifts and did nothing, those nobles would still feel grateful to him when they were released.
Felix clearly understood all this. But he still refused the gifts, even if it meant offending the other nobles. Ironically, this made the king respect him even more.
So after having a good laugh, the king suddenly asked Felix,
"Would you be willing to make a trip to the northwest?"
"Romanov seems to have secretly joined forces with foreign powers. He has more troops than I expected. I can't spare too many of my forces right now, and I'll need to conscript some soldiers from the noble families. But I don't trust handing them over to anyone else. You, on the other hand—should be able to command them, right?"
Felix had once been a knight in the king's guard. From his days as a knight's squire, he had always stood out. The king had great faith in his capabilities—not just his strength, but also his military command. If the Pradi Empire hadn't enjoyed such long years of peace, Felix could have already earned himself a noble title through military merit.
The king's proposal to send Felix wasn't made lightly. For one, he couldn't leave the capital himself. The Royal Knights had to remain in the capital to maintain order, and many of the military officers had been purged due to their ties to Duke Romanov. Trustworthy commanders were in short supply. The king had considered his options carefully and ultimately decided that Felix was the most suitable choice.
First, Felix was capable and had previously served in the military, which earned him the respect of many soldiers. Second, the knights Felix had brought with him were said to be nearly as strong as the Royal Knights—another reason to send him, as it would reinforce the army's strength.
And most importantly, the king wanted to grant Felix a promotion. If Felix led this campaign and emerged victorious, the king could justifiably elevate his noble rank.
Yes—ever since Weiwei had saved his life, the king had intended to promote Felix. But Felix was already a count, and the next rank was duke—a title that, aside from members of the royal family, was reserved for those who had made monumental contributions to the nation. While Weiwei's actions certainly counted as such, it wouldn't sound good if Felix were promoted solely based on his wife's merit. So, after some thought, the king decided it would be best for Felix to earn military merit of his own—this way, the promotion would be well deserved.
Though the king didn't say it outright, Felix picked up on the implication. He was an ambitious man, and as a former knight, he longed for the battlefield. Presented with such an opportunity, he naturally couldn't refuse. On impulse, he agreed.
But after he left the king's chamber, Felix sobered up and realized—to his dismay—that he had agreed without discussing it with Weiwei first. Guilt settled heavily in his chest.
The palace guards standing in the corridor noticed the change immediately. Felix, who had entered with confidence, now wore a troubled expression as he exited—something had gone wrong.
Soon after, the king subtly leaked the news that Count Williams had been scolded for pleading mercy on behalf of the other nobles. This rumor spread like wildfire. The nobles, especially those who had once been upset at Felix for rejecting their gifts, quickly changed their opinions.
They now praised him as a righteous and kind-hearted noble: even though he had refused their bribes, he still dared to risk the king's anger by speaking up for them. He was leagues above those hypocrites who accepted their gifts but never lifted a finger.
With that, the nobles doubled the value of their gifts and had them delivered en masse to the Williams estate. The servants tried everything to refuse, but the nobles simply dropped off their lavish offerings and left—completely ignoring the objections.
While Felix, the "noble soul" who had profited handsomely thanks to the king's maneuvering, was now wracking his brain on how to break the news to Weiwei—without making her mad.
At that moment, Weiwei was busy entertaining Princess Consort Elina, the wife of the second prince.
The palace currently had only five residents. The queen had been placed under house arrest. Of the remaining four, the king was still recuperating while managing the war effort. Crown Prince Edward, though beginning to take on some diplomatic work, was also in recovery. Prince Andrew had taken on some of his brother's duties and was quite busy himself. No one had time to deal with day-to-day palace affairs.
And so, the only one available to handle things was Princess Consort Elina, who—under the guidance of the steward—had taken over the queen's responsibilities for managing the palace.
Elina had studied courtly duties under her mother, but now that she was actually in charge, she realized it was far more difficult than she imagined.
After making yet another mistake, she couldn't hold it in any longer and came to vent to Weiwei—hoping she could help. Elina knew full well that her future sister-in-law was an incredibly capable woman.
It wasn't just the castle—rumor had it that the entire Williams family territory was managed jointly by Felix and Weiwei, and everything there ran like clockwork. That kind of talent was rare even among men, let alone noblewomen.
So Elina sincerely hoped Weiwei could offer her some advice—just enough to help her get a handle on things.
Although Elina was being groomed to possibly become queen one day, her mother Salina had deliberately avoided fueling her ambition too much. Most of her education was focused on becoming a good noble wife. As for the responsibilities of a queen—something even Salina wasn't familiar with—she had taught very little. So Elina was completely at a loss when it came to managing the palace.
Traditionally, these tasks fell under the crown princess's purview. When she handled them, the noblewomen living in the palace would also pitch in to help. But because the crown princess's position had always been tenuous, the more powerful noblewomen often suppressed her voice and took over the palace duties themselves. So even she only had a vague grasp of things.
And as for Elina, who had only been married a year and had never even been involved in palace affairs? She was starting from zero.
The crown prince had divorced his wife earlier that spring. Shortly afterward, the king fell ill, and the palace was locked down. The noblewomen were all sent home. The steward took over the management duties—but now that the king had assigned Elina the task, the steward was too busy to help much. Elina couldn't even find an assistant.
Still, despite the challenges, Elina was happy to have something to do—because otherwise, she'd be bored out of her mind.
Since the lockdown, she hadn't been allowed to leave the palace. She also wanted nothing to do with the disgraced queen, so she'd been stuck in her chambers with nothing to occupy her. She was starting to go stir-crazy.
Now that she had a real job, she clung to it eagerly. She had no desire to return to sitting around, staring at the walls, waiting for the king to lift the lockdown.
So she came to seek out Weiwei without hesitation.
Weiwei, too, had been bored. Aside from treating her two patients and watching over her child, she had little to do. Diagnosis and prescribing were her responsibilities—actual treatment was handled by Kama and the royal physicians. As for her son Anthony, he had recently recovered from his trauma and no longer needed to cling to her constantly. With more and more toys to distract him and maids to play with, he was content as long as Weiwei was within sight—even if she wasn't directly involved.
So Weiwei suddenly had a lot of free time on her hands. Just when she was wondering what to do with it, Elina came knocking—and the two hit it off instantly. Weiwei agreed to become her advisor.
Though she had never managed a royal palace, Weiwei was methodical and sharp. Palace regulations were all documented—learning them wasn't hard for her. And since she only needed to offer suggestions and didn't have to do any of the grunt work herself, it was an easy job.
Elina was capable, but her personality was too gentle. She lacked decisiveness and was easily swayed. Add to that her rookie status, and it was no surprise that palace staff didn't take her seriously—leading to all kinds of mistakes. But with Weiwei's help and her quick learning, Elina soon got the hang of things. After the initial chaos, the palace gradually returned to order.
Satisfied with her progress, Elina and Weiwei became closer. Elina even began confiding her concerns.
Right now, they were discussing her marriage.
Although Elina hadn't married Prince Andrew by choice, she was reasonably happy with her married life. Andrew was obedient and didn't fool around like many other nobles. He liked spending time with her, and over time, they had developed real feelings for each other.
But what worried Elina now was their lack of children.
They had been married for a year and still had no child. Before the king fell ill and before the noblewomen left, some had already begun whispering cruel things behind her back. Though she hadn't been concerned before, the rumors had started to get to her.
Since Weiwei was a doctor, she decided to ask for a checkup.
"Your body is perfectly healthy. Stop overthinking," Weiwei said, nearly rolling her eyes. "You're still young. Having a child too early isn't good for you or the baby. Waiting a few more years is ideal."
"But…" Elina hesitated, unconvinced. In this era, early marriage and childbirth were common—girls gave birth at twelve or thirteen. Wasn't she already getting old?
Weiwei tried to reassure her. "Seriously, early childbirth is bad. Look at those nobles who had children in their teens. How many are still healthy? And how many of their children survived?"
The infant mortality rate in this world was frighteningly high. Even among nobles, it wasn't uncommon to lose every child they had. Many families ended up handing their estates to distant relatives—just because none of their direct heirs had survived.
Weiwei gave Elina examples of noble families who had suffered from marrying and bearing children too early. She finally convinced her to stop worrying and let nature take its course.
Still, Elina couldn't help saying, "Even if I'm not in a rush, I'm sure His Majesty and the Crown Prince are."
That comment reminded Weiwei of Crown Prince Edward.
The king's greater concern was whether the crown prince would have any heirs. Edward was the king's favored successor. The king had even allowed him to divorce his wife—who had come from the former queen's family—just to find a more suitable partner and ensure the birth of an heir.
If not for the prince's poisoning, the new crown princess would likely have been selected already—perhaps even married by now.
But for now, there was no point rushing. Weiwei was still treating Edward, and his recovery required a long period of abstinence. Even if a new crown princess were selected, she would essentially be a figurehead for now.
Weiwei had already explained this to the king, who had temporarily put the marriage plans on hold. He figured they could revisit the matter once Edward was in better health.
At least now, they no longer feared Edward might not live past twenty. And as a man, he had more time to wait—and more options to choose from.
Still, Weiwei had heard about the king's earlier choices for a new crown princess—and they all seemed quite young. She felt it was necessary to speak with the king and suggest selecting someone older and healthier. With Edward's fragile health and the risk of inherited conditions, pairing him with a delicate girl could be disastrous for their child.
Of course, if the crown prince himself had someone he liked, that would be ideal. But royal marriages involved far too many considerations—it was rarely possible to follow one's heart.
Weiwei thought of the crown prince—who always looked at her like a concerned elder, despite being younger than her in her eyes—and made a mental note to bring it up. After all, good spirits were key to healing. If the prince could marry someone he liked, who knew? His recovery might just speed up.