Azrael_Nightshade

Alistair Ashencrest was once an overworked government official in America—until he woke up in a fantasy empire as the Leader of the Imperial Council of Ministers. Now, he’s stuck managing an empire where corrupt nobles, power-hungry schemers, and war-hungry generals constantly test his patience.

The Emperor relies on him. The nobles fear him. The commoners spread ridiculous rumors about his supposed tyranny. And worst of all? He still has to deal with paperwork.

Between surviving noble schemes, balancing the empire’s politics, and avoiding troublesome romance rumors, Alistair just wants to do his job efficiently.

But with four powerful women trying to entangle him in politics and romance, a paranoid Emperor, and multiple coup attempts every year, his life is anything but peaceful.

"I saved the empire. Why am I still working overtime?"

I Became the Empire’s Overworked Minister

The Imperial Palace was a marvel of architecture, a towering symbol of the Empire's power. Its golden spires gleamed under the midday sun, and its vast halls were adorned with elaborate murals depicting past emperors.

None of that mattered to Alistair Ashencrest, who was currently being dragged into yet another pointless imperial meeting.

"Sir, please try to be diplomatic," Cedric whispered as they walked toward the Throne Room.

Alistair gave him a flat look. "I'm always diplomatic."

Cedric sighed. "You told a noble yesterday that his intelligence was an insult to livestock."

"Which was diplomatic considering I wanted to call him an inbred cabbage," Alistair muttered.

The two approached the massive golden doors of the Imperial Throne Room, where armored guards saluted before swinging them open. Inside, a long red carpet led to a massive throne, where the Emperor of Veltan, Julius Veltan III, sat in regal splendor.

Despite the throne's grandeur, the Emperor himself looked... tired.

"Minister Ashencrest," the Emperor said, his deep voice echoing through the chamber.

The Emperor tapped his fingers against the armrest. "There's a problem."

Alistair resisted the urge to sigh. "Of course. What is it this time?"

The Emperor gestured toward a group of nobles standing at the side. Duke Reinhardt, the leader of the Aristocratic Faction, stepped forward with a smug expression.

"My Emperor," Reinhardt began, bowing dramatically, "I must insist that the Imperial Council reconsiders its recent tax policies. The burden on noble households is simply too great!"

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Too great?"

"Indeed!" Reinhardt continued. "The increased tariffs on landowners are crippling our ability to govern!"

Alistair turned to the Emperor. "Your Majesty, may I?"

Alistair took a slow step forward, staring directly at Reinhardt, who unconsciously took a step back.

"You claim the tax burden is too great?" Alistair said. "And yet, reports indicate that your estate recently imported a golden carriage from the Western Kingdoms. Your faction also held a week-long festival, complete with fireworks and a private orchestra. Are these the actions of struggling nobles?"

Reinhardt turned red. "T-That is beside the point!"

"Oh, I think it's exactly the point," Alistair said, his voice cold. "Perhaps the problem isn't high taxes. Perhaps it's your faction's blatant incompetence at managing wealth."

Several nobles turned pale. Even the Emperor hid a smirk.

Reinhardt gritted his teeth. "This is an outrage! The Aristocratic Faction will not stand for this!"

Alistair sighed, rubbing his temples. "Then sit down."

The Emperor choked back laughter. Cedric let out a quiet cough to hide his amusement.

Reinhardt looked like he was about to explode, but before he could retort, a new voice cut through the tension.

"Minister Ashencrest is right," a calm, regal voice said.

Everyone turned as Princess Eleanor Veltan stepped forward.

She wore an elegant black dress, her golden hair cascading down her back in loose waves. Her blue eyes gleamed with intelligence, and a knowing smirk played at her lips.

"The Imperial Council's decisions have been fair and just," she continued smoothly. "I, for one, am grateful for Minister Ashencrest's efficiency in managing state affairs."

Alistair narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew exactly what Eleanor was doing—aligning herself with him politically in front of the Emperor and nobles.

Reinhardt clenched his fists but had no counterargument.

The Emperor chuckled. "It seems the Council's decision stands." He waved a hand dismissively. "Now, enough of this. Alistair, your next assignment—"

Chapter 2: Another Day, Another Headache