Chapter 5: Bit

"Huk!"

"Awake."

Eru flew beside her.

What was that dream?

Ett's breath came in uneven gasps as she pressed a hand to her chest. Her fingers curled against the fabric of her nightgown, as if trying to grasp something that wasn't there. Yet the feeling remained—a hollow emptiness where her heart should be.

It was horrible.

The nightmare clung to her like a real experience refusing to fade. She could still feel it—fingers, cold and unrelenting, tearing through her flesh with merciless precision. The unbearable agony as something warm and wet was wrenched out from her body. Then, the sickening pressure as it was shoved against her lips, forced past her teeth.

Her own heart.

She swallowed her own heart.

Ett had barely sat up when another wave of nausea hit her, blurring her vision. A bitter taste rose in her throat.

"No, no. Wake up."

The sensation lingered—too vivid, too real. Even now, fully awake, her hands wouldn't stop trembling.

"Ett. Good. Morning."

Cough. Cough. Cough. Cough.

Cough.

"Ha. Wh-What a g-good mo-morni--cough!"

Sheesh. What's so good about the morning?

Her blood stained her bedsheets again.

Not again.

She rang the bell.

Sooner, someone knocked. "Mistress?"

"Come…cough-"

In.

Ett's voice just went faint. The two maids bowed, waiting for her order.

"How long have I been asleep."

"About three weeks, Mistress."

"Hah."

Amazing. It's true that whenever Ett fainted in the novel, she would rest not three days but three weeks, not one day but one month.

Would it turn one month a year and a year to a decade? How much inspiration from Sleeping Beauty is this? Anyway, in a goodish way, she should be able to estimate the duration whenever she have coughing fits.

One of the maids informed her, "The physician will come soon."

Like always, whenever she fainted, the imperial physician would come. Ett wonders if the physician is tired of taking care of her. All he tells her is to pacify her emotions.

She had never honestly looked at every one of them in the eye, nor did she care about them. That's how we see mobs, right? Would it change if she did it now?

Ett does not know, nor she wants to get close. No one is an exception.

As they guided her to her bathing area, Ett was as silent as she could, gazing at nothingness as she thought about her nightmare.

Three weeks ago, a spur of her thoughts aspiring and had planned to be an adventurer and turn into an sick protagonist ready to hoard eye candies and protect the world from evilness—begone thot!

Yet in her dream, Guren tore her heart out and forced her to eat it.

Ironically, that's how it was written in the novel. Well, she thinks so. That was the day, Ett the Dowager Empress lost her usefulness.

"Budalla, ergelak, scemu, loll, stupide, blöd, gòrach." Ett wants to bash her head, repeatedly muttering a mantra with the same meaning.

She should have followed her original plan. Why did she let herself fall into the same careless escape attempts she'd seen in countless stories?

Foolish.

She had been far too reckless for her own good. If she was going to play the role of Ett, she needed to be strategic—methodical. And if Ett truly sought a way back to her original body, she required a solid cover, something airtight enough to conceal her true intentions.

What had she been thinking, trying to escape? Beyond these walls, she was even more vulnerable—a walking target marked by her own bloodline.

Indeed, her mind turned to dung for a moment.

Yeah, in some way, Guren had helped her.

"Taking care of your body is of utmost importance. You mustn't overexert yourself," the physician reminded her once again, noticing how lost in thought Ett seemed.

"Yes."

After another 'gentle' advice from the physician, he went away.

"Lead me to my Study Chamber." Pwe, that sounds old.

Ett usually went to only two chambers: her room and study room. If she's not there, she's at the library.

A monotonous and predictable existence.

It's not bad. Ett's life on earth was much more predictable than this. Wait, should she say 'systematic'? What a barf.

"Yes, Your Grace."

There were papers neatly organized on top of her table. Books were stacked on each side of the walls, dark crimson curtains, carpet, and even her chair. Honestly, this office room was dull, and the guest had no seat.

It's too plain to be called a simple minimalist working place. Well, it's not like they would be bold enough to visit and directly report to her. At least when she was in her modern room, she had many more things.

How ideal would it be to settle into her newly acquired ergonomic gaming chair, paired with her high-performance PC and a brand-new, high-refresh-rate monitor?

The immersive glow of customizable RGB lighting would set the perfect ambiance, complemented by her state-of-the-art gaming headset, delivering crystal-clear surrounding sound with deep, resonant bass for an unparalleled gaming experience.

Okay, that sounds like she is a salesperson now.

Really, she missed typing on her keyboard, feeling each key whenever her fingers glide, and clicking her mouse whenever she's playing her favorite game, fufu. Come to think of it, they are more expensive than her clothes. The second is her shoes.

"You may leave."

"Yes."

Once the door was closed, she took some thick books and placed them on her chair and a stool to step on. She did not forget to put a cloth on top of the book.

"Gomen, Book-chan."

"…"

As she sat on the chair, the edge of the desk could only align on her neck.

"…"

Ett added more books to her seat.

"Ah, much better."

The woefulness of a small child. She should ask the maids to give her smaller seat or have someone adjust her chair in some way.

"Howee~."

Looking at the papers, Ett smiled. Thankfully, she can read it.

"Ostenian Duchy."

Reading through the information, Ett pursed her lips.

The Imperial Faction consists of the highest-ranking aristocrats who oppose the Emperor. They gather young heirs to discuss politics and strategize ways to gain influence over the Adiand Empire.

Though they recognize Guren's exceptional talent, they see him as a mere child—impressive among his peers but still vulnerable to adult manipulation especially in groups. Unlike the tyrant he was at the start of the novel, he seems more reserved in this timeline.

Notably, Guren has rarely been seen in public since his coronation at nine, and direct communication with the Emperor is impossible—only his Advisor speaks on his behalf. The Ostenian Duchy, however, has the most access to the Royal Advisors.

Ett recalls encountering someone from the Duchy on her first day with Butler Xiwen. Though pillars obscured his face, his insignia and attire stood out.

Was that Archduke Froiz, Guren's personal advisor? The serious yet charming figure who only appears briefly in the story? To be honest, he isn't like a typical advisor who stays by His Majesty's side—he often goes out.

It's more like being an advisor is just a side role for him. In truth, Guren doesn't really need an advisor—it's just for show and a bridge of communication.

Now, an advisor will be appearing because a ball is about to be held.

"Anyway, won't this be the first celebration in four years?"

The day that Ett could see many people from far away and watch them with calculation. After all, watching doves and hawks mingling and clashing together from afar is an excellent way to assess them.

"Wait."

Doesn't that mean the original Ett in the novel had this on her table before? And not just anywhere—she placed it at the very top.

"Then it was delayed."

And now it has resumed just like scheduled.

Ett rubbed her forehead, feeling the threads tangled once she began acting like the real Ett.

"You really won't let me re--cough."

Seriously.

"Eru, play or sleep?"

Play is getting back to gathering information or sleep, literally, rest.

Eru swallowed the entire green grape in one gulp, its throat bobbing as it closed and opened its beak again.

"Grapes."

"Yes, if you can wait, I'll get as much as you like."

"Play."

"Alright. You'll go tomorrow to Ostenian Duchy."

"Northwest."

Eru uttered, cocking its head in the window in the northwest direction.

Ett smiled, "You memorized it well."

"I'm. Smart."

"Yes, yes. Very smart. Ett is so happy to have you."

"Me too."

Ett chuckled. This lyrebird has an ego.

"You know what to do right?"

"Yes."

"Don't die."

Eru replied, "You. Too."

Me too? That's cute.

***

--Arkada, Capital of Jushen Empire--

The men descended into the subterranean tunnel beneath the city's hidden passage, their footsteps echoing with an ominous rhythm. Their dark capes billowed behind them as their heavy boots splashed through the water.

Concealed behind an unassuming wall, a hidden door became apparent after the group leader pushed a particular stone on it, granting them passage into the clandestine area. Their figures were cloaked in shadow as the glint of swords nestled at their belts.

"Sire, welcome back," greeted a young man in his early twenties, his demeanor exuding a scholarly elegance as he welcomed them with a respectful nod. "Please, come in," he added, gesturing graciously towards the interior of the chamber.

The man who leads the cloaked men seated on the highest chair wherein the table has many stacked papers organized in different categories. Removing his cloak, his chestnut hair was tied into a simple bun, and a chiseled face with sharp brown eyes and an aquiline nose was revealed. His thin lips made a small smile as he skimmed the papers on his table.

The man's baritone voice flowed like a gentle breeze, carrying a warmth that contrasted with the room's dimness. "Well done. How many nobles and scholars this time?"

The young man replied, "As we aimed for lower nobles, there are three other barons, two viscounts, and somehow an heir to a dukedom. Five nobles and our scholars in Jushen academies are starting to get few. Ten of them are already missing. We've found two of them nearly on the verge of death while one is already dead."

"I see."

"Even so, it did not affect the main plan. As you commanded, the scholars recognized as teachers who had the privilege to attend any noble's balls in their free time made good impressions. Our men marked waterways, caves, and tunnels. Mr. Grandall has been promoted as the academy's librarian."

The man's eyes narrowed, "And the previous librarian?"

The young man sinisterly smiled, "She died from bandits as she was travelling to her hometown."

"That's good to hear."

The man's eyes raised his hand, and one of the men behind him moved forward. He revealed a bottle the liquid was dyed with an indigo hue, its size the height of a man's hand.

"This is called Lily poison. It's odorless and cannot be examined by mere silver spoon or anything else unless there is a poison master, which rarely exists in this empire."

Another person wearing a cloak dragged a wooden crate; as it was opened, velvet red powder was revealed.

"This is a newly made opium called Nan powder. If mixed with salt and sugar, it will be addicting. Surely, the nobles would like this. Be careful and mix it with any food. It would be a different matter if mixed with another powder with explosive properties. Take it."

"Understood, sir; I'll make sure once it's been spread in the empire, it will not cause you any inconveniences. Our chefs will also try the right dosage before selling it to the market."

The man nodded satisfactorily, "If you have questions, you can send the pigeon or ask one of my men. I'll be in and out of this empire as usual."

He patted the young man's shoulder.

"Rest assured, it won't take long, and His Majesty will order us to purge them all."

"Indeed, Sire. I'll see through this to the very end."

The young man swore, bowing lowly.

"I'll entrust you with that matter then."

Taking the essential papers on the desk, the man covered himself with his hood again and turned to leave.

"Let's find the missing scholars."

"Yes, Sire," the cloaked men replied in unison.