62 — Chapter 62

“Oh, my. It seems I’ve received far more than I gave.”

In a prison cell, dim even during the day, a captivating voice rang out.

Heidemarie flicked the two face cards Clemens had handed over, fluttering them within her palm as she blinked her long eyelashes.

“But those are the rules, so there’s no helping it, is there?”

She tilted her head slightly, appearing entirely unrepentant.

The other prisoners, leaning back against their sofas as usual, organized their own hands as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“That’s right. The rules of this game say the Pauper gives the Emperor their two strongest cards, and the Emperor gives the Pauper two useless ones in exchange. It can’t be helped. Just forgive her, Clemens.”

“It is a rule that reflects the harsh reality of a world where the poor are structurally exploited, but ‘Lust’ means no harm by it. Please, forgive her, Lord Clemens.”

“You don’t have to look so tragic about it. Forgive her already, Clemens.”

“Forgive, Clemens.”

In order, it was Horst, Morgan, Liesel, and Gilbert.

While they never managed to beat Heidemarie, they never fell to the bottom rank either. With an air of complete composure, they toyed with their new plaything, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

“Forgive, Clemens,” Isaac finally muttered under his breath, and at that moment, everyone finished organizing their hands.

Maintaining their lethargic atmosphere, they began to discard their first cards into the center.

Whether it be chess or cards, the rule that the loser must show absolute obedience to the winner applied even to them.

However, now that they had a “rookie” like Clemens, it was almost impossible for them to fall into last place. Even if they did, they each possessed some trick to brilliantly maneuver their way out of a predicament.

One wrong move and you could fall to the status of a prison slave—even that thrill served as an enticing spice in this tedious life behind bars.

Thus, they chose and played their cards with practiced ease, radiating an aristocratic grace and unhesitating movements.

Amidst them all, there was one person whose face was twisted in desperation.

It was the former Marquis Clemens von Rottner, who by this point had been stripped of everything but his skin.

The intellectual light that once graced his bloodshot eyes was gone; his stiffened face no longer even attempted to feign a gentle personality.

With his white hair disheveled and his shoes taken from him—exposing thin, aged feet—he looked wretched and utterly powerless.

Looking at him now, no one would believe that this was once the “noble among nobles” who had manipulated the kings of great empires at his whim and wielded power across nations.

Clemens had been in this state ever since the land deeds he had hidden in his shoes were snatched away.

“Oh, don’t, Clemens. Please don’t make such a scary face. If you glare at the cards with such a ghoulish expression, even the Goddess of Luck will run away.”

The beautiful courtesan who had fleeced him of everything whispered sweetly and gently.

“Besides, rest easy. It’s not as if we’re all bloodthirsty, homicidal maniacs—probably. Just because you might become the Pauper again, and just because you might have nothing left of value but your internal organs, it doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll disassemble you.”

“…”

In response, Clemens only glared up at Heidemarie with a sharp, piercing gaze.

Though his eyes were filled with intense hatred, they surprisingly showed no trace of fear.

Despite being surrounded by insane prisoners and being presented with the vivid possibility of being carved into pieces, he showed not a shred of cowardice—a testament, perhaps, to his former status as Prime Minister.

Heidemarie stared at Clemens intently for a moment before letting out a playful, amused giggle.

“Wonderful. I truly do love a man with backbone.”

“…You whore,” Clemens growled, spitting the words out.

He looked as though he were about to spit on her as well, but Gilbert stopped him by pressing a sword to his throat without so much as a warning movement.

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped being disrespectful to my wife.”

Clemens watched a bead of blood trickle down his Adam’s apple, but instead of backing down, the light in his eyes intensified as he glared at Heidemarie with murderous intent.

“…Just you wait.”

“You can bark all you want, but you might want to stop ‘looking’ at Marie, don’t you think?”

Liesel, who had been picking his cards with a look of annoyance—it seemed his hand was lacking in strength this round—pointed this out with a sneer.

He looked up, his lips curling into a sarcastic arc toward Clemens.

“The eyes of ‘Lust’ are demonic. Once you drown in them, it’s far more potent than my brainwashing; she’ll suck you dry right down to the marrow of your bones.”

“Oh, stop, ‘Envy.’ I’m quite flustered that the day has come where you’d praise me so much.”

“I’m not praising you, I’m insulting you. I’m saying you’re far more troublesome than any succubus or charm-weaving demon out there.”

As usual, these two ladies didn’t get along—or rather, they maintained a very unique sense of distance.

Liesel gave a dismissive huff.

“Honestly, you have no shame. It’s not just men; you’ll seduce women—no, you’ll even seduce other species. When you first entered this prison, it wasn’t just foreign dignitaries; even cows, fish, and birds were wandering over here, drawn to you. Do you have any idea how much trouble we had clearing them out?”

“But thanks to that, for a while, the dinner table was quite bountiful.”

“We can’t exactly eat the humans, of course, but the letters they still send her remain an important source of information.”

Liesel, who had a bit of a clean-freak streak, spat the words out resentfully, but Isaac and Morgan, who had profited from the situation, came to Heidemarie’s defense.

The Queen, maintaining her composed posture, merely shrugged at both the criticism and the defense.

“You’ll just have to get used to it. This is simply who I am.”

Indeed, she was a courtesan by birth.

Her voluptuous body commanded attention simply by existing, and her faint sighs carried a scent of allure that sent shivers down the spine.

Whether man or woman, or even crossing the boundaries of species, anyone who locks eyes with her is invariably dragged into the watery, cerulean world held within her gaze.

Once that happens, their sense of self dissolves, and like someone gripped by a high fever, they begin to do nothing but beg for the Queen’s love.

While it was Liesel who consciously and systematically taught Elma the art of attracting and manipulating the interest of others, the one who instilled the subconscious art—the ability to seduce as naturally as breathing—was none other than Heidemarie.

The courtesan who brought this world’s most troublesome seductress (Elma) into existence tilted her head with innocent curiosity.

“And to be honest, in terms of the power of charm, I believe Elma has surpassed me. If that girl truly puts her heart into it, she should be able to beguile not just animals, but even magical beasts and Demon Insects.”

As she spoke with a touch of pride, Liesel raised a single eyebrow, looking increasingly exasperated.

“Well, obviously. I mean, that girl was gifted with your needlessly beautiful face, plus [Sloth’s] silver tongue and my own brainwashing techniques. There shouldn’t be a being alive she can’t bring to their knees.”

After delivering that bit of blatant “doting parent” commentary, he twisted his lips slightly and added:

“—Honestly, I’m just glad Elma didn’t inherit your cursed eyes. Your eyes, which dissolve a person’s ego just by looking at them, are practically in the realm of the Evil Eye. We already raised her to be far too charming as it is; if she had the Evil Eye on top of that, God knows what would happen. An excessive power of charm only leads to ruin.”

“…I suppose so.”

Despite being teased as a woman who brings about destruction, Heidemarie didn’t argue. She cast a brief glance at Horst and smiled as if to keep him in check.

Heidemarie had never told even her precious comrades the truth: that Elma’s eyes turn red when her emotions are heightened. Crimson eyes, like a setting sun or dripping blood, exert a much stronger allure than her mystical dawn-colored eyes—influencing the human psyche so powerfully that she would likely be viewed as a danger, much like the demons of old.

The beautiful courtesan casually tucked the inconvenient truth deep into her heart, whispering a lovely endearment with her perfectly shaped lips instead.

“That is why I love you so much, Liesel.”

“…I have no idea how you arrived at ‘that is why.’”

At his grumbling and wrinkled nose, Heidemarie’s lips parted in a soft chuckle. Then, as if suddenly remembering, she looked over at Clemens and gave an exaggerated shrug.

“Forgive me, leaving you out of the conversation like that. What were we talking about—ah, yes, the fact that it’s best if you don’t look at me too much.”

She pulled the conversation back from its slight detour and casually discarded a hand into the center. She gave Clemens a mischievous wink.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but it might be true. You see, for some reason, when I stare fixedly at someone, they often suddenly fall to their knees, beg for mercy, or fall into despair and die. It’s quite a bother, isn’t it?”

It was a shocking revelation to deliver so casually. At that point, she was more like a demon or a grimace. Even the hardened Clemens was momentarily taken aback, but Heidemarie continued with a giggle.

“I had quite a difficult time with this in my youth. But thanks to that, I’ve come to hold a very simple policy. You see—”

Only those who do not fawn over me are recognized as equals.

Those who crawl toward me—are to be ruled.

The words she uttered with a bewitching smile carried a strange, overwhelming force that could not be dismissed as the mere delusions of a whore. As Clemens instinctively swallowed hard, Heidemarie smiled at him like a noble cat.

“From the moment we met until this very second, you have never once directed lust toward me. I quite like that about you. However, Clemens… the humans who do not feel lust for me—the ones who manage to avoid being ruled—are usually those who are significantly lacking in something.”

“For example,” she said in a sing-song voice, looking around at her comrades.

“Someone who has lost something so precious that they’ve forgotten desire. Someone who seeks something else, far more difficult to obtain than a woman’s body. And then… there are those who have already offered their entire hearts to me.”

As her gaze briefly brushed past Gilbert, a soft sigh of a laugh escaped her beautiful lips. After looking around at everyone, Heidemarie fixed her gaze intently on Clemens. Leaning elegantly back into the sofa, she added, “And then…”

“There are those who already have a beloved woman living in the deepest recesses of their hearts—so much so that I don’t even enter their field of vision. That would be you, wouldn’t it, Clemens?”

“…!”

Clemens fell silent, caught completely off guard. Eventually, the corner of his mouth curled into a sneer of derision. He spat the words at Heidemarie with utter contempt.

“What nonsense. Reducing everything to trivial emotions like love and romance… truly, you are a woman to the last.”

However, his spirited insult was immediately shut down.

“That’s what he says, but what about you, [Sloth]?”

“Blink rate has increased, the corrugator supercilii muscles are tensed, and his gaze shifted to the upper right. In other words: he feels anxiety and discomfort at [Lust’s] statement and is speaking a falsehood—he is quite visibly shaken.”

His bravado was easily dismantled by Morgan’s “mind-reading.”

Faced with a giggling Heidemarie, Clemens bristled like a pathetic small animal.

“Ha… I know not what sort of trickery this is, but stating your own delusions as fact must be quite—”

“Oh, speaking of stating facts, I heard a rather interesting rumor recently. Well, I didn’t exactly hear it; strictly speaking, it was written in this letter.”

“Where did that letter just come from!?”

As Heidemarie pulled a sealed envelope from her cleavage with a flourish, Clemens forgot his posturing and barked a retort. Heidemarie smiled and brushed it off, unfolding the stationery with elegant fingers.

“A rumor about a certain woman who was once in social circles. This woman—Lady Fine, I believe—seems to have had quite a run of bad luck. Her intelligence and integrity were highly valued, and she became the secondary consort to a certain King. However, her goodness was deemed a nuisance, and she was quickly divorced. She was cast out of the court under the pretext of being ‘bestowed upon a trustworthy vassal,’ but then that vassal—her husband—fell from power. With no children and long since abandoned by the family that should have been her support, poor Lady Fine reportedly left the estate alone.”

“…!”

“Even so, she is a woman unaccustomed to travel, nearing her senior years. Scrimping together what little travel money she had, she rode her horse toward the most secluded place she could think of—oh, it brings tears to my eyes—the only rural district she had ever visited.”

Clemens was now beyond words. He simply clenched his fists until they bled and kept his mouth tightly shut.

“It was a place of memories for her. The ‘second husband’ who took her in had taken her there just once—a meager honeymoon of sorts—amidst his busy duties.”

Heidemarie’s smile deepened subtly.

“The name of that peaceful, nature-rich place, perfect for a summer retreat, is… Tremmel.”

“…”

With a sharp click of her heels, Heidemarie finally stood up. She tossed the cards in her hand onto the table.

Three Queens.

With that, her hand was empty—meaning, once again, she was the Emperor.

The beautiful courtesan who reigned over the prison narrowed her eyes tenderly and spoke.

“How unfortunate, Clemens. By my reckoning, you are the Pauper once again. I wonder what I shall take from you this time?”

Reaching out with her slender, white fingers, she lifted Clemens’s stiffened chin. She spun her words as sweetly as a lover’s whisper.

“The hidden gold coins, the ring, and the land deeds under a different name… I’ve already taken those. I wonder what else I have to strip away before your goal finally collapses.”

“…”

Clemens let out a groan of despair.

This woman had seen through him from the very beginning.

And then, she had stripped him of everything, piece by piece.

The hidden gold, the ring, the deeds.

In other words: the travel money to reach Tremmel, the ring hiding the poison he intended to swallow, and—the land to ensure his wife’s safety.

“I’ve decided,” Heidemarie said, her lips curving upward as she placed a soft hand on Clemens’s cheek.

“Lastly, give me your truth. The reason you foolishly challenged us the moment your brainwashing was lifted—the reason you aimed to escape even at the risk of having your limbs torn off—was it so you could grant that land to the former Marchioness Fine von Rottner, and then die by your own hand there?”

Clemens let the only powerful card remaining in his hand—the Queen of Hearts—fall powerlessly to the floor.