Amesaya

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT]

"...I have to choose a King Consort right now?!"

No sooner did the young woman from Earth awake in the body of Empress Isabelle of Nevremia than she was informed she'd have to choose a King Consort to keep her throne. While she was still trying to get used to her new body, new world, and new position, her advisors insisted she marry some stranger to retain her power.

"But don't Empresses get to make the rules?"

As Isabelle Von Nevremia. not only is she the revered empress of a powerful country, but she has access to a special status system, which allows her to read people's names, skills, moods, and even their kinks. As well as that, there's some kind of mysterious 'challenge' system that awards her 'skill points' for successfully completing challenges.

...But all the challenges are just seducing people. How tacky...

"...If I'm going to be Empress, then I won't have a king! I'm going to have a harem!"

I'm the Empress! So I'm Going to Make Myself a Harem

There was no response to her meaningful groan.

"I'm DYING." She sighed and flopped forward onto the desk. "I'M DYING. NO. PAPERWORK."

She moaned and buried her head in her arms. She was sprawled on the surface, her head pillowed on the sleeves of her dress and her face turned to the window, the curtains drawn and the sunlight streaming through the panes.

She could hear the chirping of the birds, the rustling of the leaves, and the sound of the wind in the trees.

Her gaze was fixed on the scenery, the colors and the movement and the life. It was a welcome distraction from the piles of papers that were stacked precariously on the desk.

The pages were filled with the scribbles of bureaucrats, the ink dry and the words faded and smudged.

"I should be preparing for the weddiiiinnnggggggg." She whined. "And. Stuff." She couldn't think of any of that. Stuff. At the moment, though.

I'm not free, I'm a prisoner of responsibility