The Villainess Wants To Retire Chapter 145: The Emperor’s good mood

Soren returned to the war room in a mood that could only be described as aggressively pleasant.

Not walking. Floating. Or at least giving the impression of soone whose feet barely touched the ground. Utterly pleased with himself in ways that made grown n uncomfortable.

The war room itself was less formal than the title suggested. Large space with a table covered in maps and reports. Comfortable enough for long discussions. Warm enough that winter’s bite stayed outside where it belonged.

Ryse sat at the head reviewing supply manifests. Jorel lounged nearby sharpening a blade that probably didn’t need sharpening. Lord Davrin occupied a chair by the hearth nursing wine that looked expensive. Several junior officers hovered at the edges handling various administrative tasks.

All of them looked up when Soren entered.

Noticed imdiately that sothing had shifted.

He was smiling.

Not the polite expression he wore for diplomacy. Not the cold smile that preceded violence. Just... smiling. To himself. At nothing in particular. Like he’d discovered sothing wonderful and was savoring it privately.

"Your Majesty." Ryse stood. Professional. "We were just—"

Soren waved him down. "Continue. Don’t let interrupt."

He settled into a chair. Still smiling. Poured himself wine from the decanter without really paying attention.

Murmured sothing under his breath.

Too quiet for most to hear. But Jorel was close enough to catch fragnts.

"...tastes like..."

Ryse’s eyes narrowed. Also catching pieces.

"...her skin..."

Another murmur. Satisfied sound.

"...so warm..."

Jorel’s blade stopped moving. He glanced at Ryse. Ryse glanced back. Both n having the sa thought simultaneously.

Oh no.

Davrin noticed the exchange. Raised an eyebrow. Took a long drink of wine like he’d need it for whatever was about to happen.

"Your Majesty," Ryse tried again. "We were discussing tomorrow’s departure schedule. Dawn seems optimal given weather predictions—"

"Fine." Soren wasn’t really listening. Still smiling. "Whatever you think is best."

"And the route through the Silver Shores. Duke Vael has prepared accommodations at three stops along the coast—"

"Good."

"There’s also the matter of—"

"Handle it."

Ryse stopped talking.

Just looked at his Emperor who was clearly physically present but ntally sowhere else entirely. Sowhere that made him smile like an idiot and apparently robbed him of the ability to engage with logistics.

Jorel tried.

"We’ve received reports of increased Vargra activity near the coastal route." He kept his tone professional. "Pack of maybe eight. Could be a problem if they decide our procession looks like easy prey."

"Mm." Soren took a drink. Still smiling. "That’s nice."

"...that’s nice?" Jorel repeated.

"Yes. Very nice. Good work bringing it to my attention."

Silence.

Davrin made a sound that might have been a cough or suppressed laughter. Hard to tell.

"Your Majesty." Ryse’s voice had gone carefully neutral. "Are you listening?"

"Of course." Soren focused on him. Sort of. "You were saying sothing about... wolves?"

"Yes..."

"Right. Vargra. Large ice wolves. Pack hunters. Very dangerous." He gestured vaguely. "I’m sure you can deal with them."

"How would you like us to—"

"I trust your judgnt, Commander. You’re very good at your job. It’s why I pay you." Back to smiling. "Speaking of which, remind to increase your salary when we reach the Frozen Court."

Ryse blinked. "...thank you, Your Majesty."

"You’re welco. You deserve it. Handling everything while I was gone. Very competent. Excellent work."

The junior officers were staring now. Not even pretending to work. Just watching their Emperor act like soone had replaced him with a significantly happier version.

Davrin leaned toward Jorel. Whispered just loud enough for nearby ears to catch.

"Is he always like this?"

"No," Jorel whispered back. "Not that I’m are of at least."

"Should we be concerned?"

"Probably."

Ryse tried one more ti.

"The accommodations in the Silver Shores. Duke Vael has offered his coastal manor for our first major stop. It’s large enough for the imperial party and has adequate security. However, so of the nobles are requesting separate lodgings in town—"

"No." Soren’s tone didn’t change. Still pleasant. Still smiling. But absolute. "Everyone stays at the manor. Easier to protect. Easier to manage. If they complain, remind them they’re welco to travel separately and arrange their own security."

"Understood."

"Anything else that actually requires my input?" Soren asked. "Or can I trust you all to handle standard logistics without supervision?"

"We can handle it," Ryse said slowly. "But there is one matter that—"

The door opened.

One of the scouts entered. Snapped to attention when he saw the Emperor. "Your Majesty. Commander. I have the updated threat assessnt you requested."

"Go ahead," Ryse said.

"The ice bears activity has increased near the mountain passes. Thraen spotted in the old ruins northwest of here—dormant but present. The hybrid sighting remains unconfird but locals report unusual tracks. Wolf pack movents suggest possible migration pattern. Overall threat level is elevated but manageable with current security asures."

Standard report. Dry. Professional.

Soren’s expression changed.

Instantly. Completely. The smile vanished like it had never existed. Cold settled over his features. Emperor instead of lovesick fool.

"Threat level to the procession?" His voice had gone flat.

"Low to moderate, Your Majesty. With proper precautions—"

"And threat level to Eris specifically?"

The scout hesitated. "...the sa, Your Majesty."

"Unacceptable." Soren stood. "Double the periter guard. Triple forward scouts. I want every Anakai within ten miles of our route identified and tracked. If anything approaches the procession, eliminate it before it becos a problem."

"Your Majesty, that level of response might be—"

"If anything threatens her," Soren interrupted, voice dropping to sothing dangerous, "eliminate it. No exceptions. No hesitation. No waiting to assess intent. Anything that could be a threat gets removed. Permanently. Am I clear?"

The scout straightened. "Crystal clear, Your Majesty."

"Good. Report any sightings directly to Commander Ryse. He’ll coordinate response."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The scout left quickly.

Silence filled the room.

Then Soren sat back down. Picked up his wine. Took a drink.

And smiled again.

Like the past thirty seconds hadn’t happened. Like he hadn’t just gone from giddy to terrifying and back in less ti than it took to breathe.

"So," he said pleasantly. "Anything else?"

Ryse and Jorel exchanged another glance.

Davrin took a very long drink of wine.

*The Emperor is in love," Ryse thought. "And sohow more terrifying for it."

Because apparently being in love made Soren simultaneously softer and more dangerous. Made him smile like an idiot one mont and promise death to anything that threatened his chosen person the next.

Gods help anyone who tried to hurt Eris.

Gods help anyone who even looked at her wrong.

Gods help the entire court when they reached the Frozen Court and Vetra inevitably tried to undermine her.

"No, Your Majesty," Ryse said finally. "I think we have everything we need."

"Excellent." Soren stood. Stretched. Still in a good mood despite the brief descent into murder-mode. "Then I’ll leave you to it. Early morning tomorrow. Make sure everyone’s ready."

He headed for the door. Paused. Looked back once and left.

The mont the door closed, everyone exhaled.

"What," one of the junior officers said slowly, "was that?"

"That," Ryse said, "was our Emperor discovering he has feelings."

"It’s terrifying," another officer added.

"It’s going to be a long week," Ryse muttered.

Davrin raised his glass. "To the future Empress. May she survive whatever chaos she’s apparently unleashed."

Everyone drank to that.

Because if this was how Soren acted after a few days with Eris...

Aneithra help them.