Eri pov
Uran City was a place of harsh contrasts. As my carriage rolled through the dusty roads, I saw nothing but plain farms and small, crumbling houses. The people looked weary, their clothes tattered from years of hard labor. Yet, in the heart of this poverty, a structure rose like a middle finger to the heavens—the manor of Lord Gidon.
The house was blinding. It was more polished and ornate than the palace itself. Outside his gates, a long, winding line of people stretched for miles. They were waiting for "relief goods"—scraps of food and supplies branded with Gidon's seal.
I signaled the carriage to stop. I stepped out, my boots hitting the dry earth, and approached a woman waiting in line.
"Is the line always this long?" I asked softly.
The woman looked at me, her eyes widening as she realized who I was, but she quickly looked back at the manor. "Lord Gidon is a saint, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice trembling. "He is the only leader who remembers us. He gives us food when the crops fail. Without him, we would starve."
I looked at the "relief" they were receiving. It was barely enough to last a day. A clever tactic—keep them hungry enough to stay dependent, but full enough to call you a hero.
"Your Majesty!" A booming voice interrupted my thoughts.
Lord Gidon hurried down the steps of his manor, his face twisted into a mask of surprised delight. "I had no idea you were coming! Had I known, I would have prepared the city gates for a royal welcome."
As if on cue, a group of servants bowed low, carrying trays of expensive fruits and delicacies through the crowd. It was a performance—a carefully choreographed show of "busy kindness" to impress me. The crowd began to murmur, the excitement of seeing a Queen for the first time ripples through the starving masses.
But the real shock came when I stepped inside.
The moment I crossed the threshold of Gidon's manor, the air changed. The floor beneath my feet wasn't stone or wood—it was solid gold inlay. The walls were lined with silk, and the chandeliers were made of rare crystals that put the palace to shame.
"My Queen," Gidon's wife greeted, curtsying with a smirk that didn't reach her eyes. "We have prepared a feast in your honor. Please, sit."
I looked at the massive table groaning under the weight of roasted meats, fine wines, and exotic desserts. I exchanged a sharp, knowing look with Lourice and Ali.
My visit was unannounced. I had deliberately kept this trip a secret to catch them off guard. And yet, there was a feast waiting. There was gold on the floor. There was a performance at the gate.
They weren't surprised. They were ready.
"A feast?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous, icy silk. I looked at the gold floor, then back at Gidon's sweating face. "How fortunate that you had all of this prepared for a guest you didn't expect. Tell me, Gidon... how many of those people outside have to starve so you can walk on gold?"
The room went silent. The "saint" of Uran City paled, the mask of kindness finally starting to crack.
The air in the room turned to ice. I couldn't hold back the disgust boiling in my veins any longer. I stood up, the chair screeching against the golden floor—a harsh sound that cut through the music and laughter.
I raised my hand, a silent but absolute signal.
In an instant, the doors burst open. My royal guards, led by Ali, flooded the hall, their steel gleaming under the crystal chandeliers. The guests gasped, the feast forgotten as the cold reality of my presence took hold.
"Lord Gidon," I began, my voice vibrating with a power that made the golden walls seem to tremble. "By the authority of the Crown and the laws of Kazunaga, I find you guilty of high treason and the systematic murder of your people's future. I sentence you, your wife, and your direct heirs to death. Second-degree execution."
The room erupted in screams. Gidon fell to his knees, his face white as a sheet. "No! Your Majesty, please! You don't understand! I have always helped this city! Look at the lines outside! I feed them! Uran is poor, and I am their only savior!"
I reached into my mantle and pulled out a stack of documents, throwing them onto the table. They scattered over the expensive food like autumn leaves.
"Help? You call this help?" I stepped closer, looming over him. "I have reviewed the ledgers, Gidon. Even before I took the throne, the budget allocated to Uran City was immense. Your taxes are the lowest in the kingdom because you claimed you had no major projects—no universities, no agricultural development, no infrastructure. Large cities pay extra to help establish small ones like yours. But look at Uran!"
I grabbed him by the collar, forcing him to look at the gold beneath his feet. "For generations, your family has ruled this city, and nothing has improved. The only thing that grew was this house! Your children study in foreign kingdoms while the children of Uran grow up in ignorance! You kept them mangmang—uneducated—so they would never question you!"
Gidon tried to speak, but I cut him off, my voice rising in fury.
"You give them 'relief goods' using their own tax money! Instead of building irrigation systems so they could farm their own land, instead of fixing the soil so they could be independent, you used the budget to buy your wife's jewelry and your children's foreign degrees! You didn't feed them out of kindness, Gidon. You fed them just enough so they wouldn't die before you could steal from them again."
I let go of him, watching him slump into a heap on his golden floor.
"Take them," I commanded Ali. "The children's spouses and the grandchildren are to be spared and exiled—they are third-degree. But the root of this corruption ends today. This gold will be melted down to build the first school and the first irrigation system Uran has ever seen."
As they dragged him away, screaming for a mercy he never gave his people, I felt a heavy weight settle on my shoulders. I looked at the feast, now cold and silent.
I was no longer just the woman Elara loved. I was the axe of justice for Kazunaga. And this was only the beginning.