Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

The ceremonial proceedings continued for a while longer, though after the commotion surrounding Scarlett, each successive noble called before the throne received only a few words from the emperor before being dismissed to make way for the next.

There was honestly something faintly absurd about it, with each of them having to kneel before the enormous severed tooth of an ancient dragon that had been brought in to honour Scarlett’s achievement, as if the proof of her deed were looming over every lesser recognition that followed.

She did hope that wouldn’t inspire any hard feelings.

Eventually, the royal herald brought the ceremonies to an end, and the emperor departed with his entourage. After that, under the direction of the palace attendants, the guests began filing out in a slow, ordered stream, starting with the unlanded nobles and various dignitaries at the other end of the hall.

A small stir arose when it came time for Scarlett’s section to move, though.

Just as she turned to join the procession, the measured tread of armoured steps sounded behind her. A knight in gold-and-white plate approached, one hand resting on the pommel of the sword at their waist. The helmet with a dragon curved along its crown concealed their face, but Scarlett could already tell who was beneath it.

“Baroness Hartford,” Dame Iyana’s cool voice followed. “His Majesty has summoned you to his office.”

Several gazes turned towards Scarlett.

She considered the knight for a moment, then glanced around the chamber to see whether Sir Leon was still present.

It seemed he had disappeared at some point.

Her attention returned to Dame Iyana, and Scarlett offered a small nod for her to lead the way.

The woman turned without another word and started walking. Scarlett followed beneath the gathered gazes of the surrounding nobles as she was led towards a passage at the far end of the chamber, near the base of the raised platform holding the throne.

They passed through it, leaving the noise behind.

For a while, they simply continued through mostly empty corridors, lit by glowing cressets set into the walls.

Eventually, Dame Iyana spoke.

“How many of you were there who slew the dragon?”

Scarlett glanced at her.

“Nine,” she said. “Though I suspect most of their names would be unfamiliar to you.”

Dame Iyana stayed quiet for a few seconds. Maybe she was considering how truthful the answer seemed.

“How much of the victory would you claim for yourself?” she asked.

“I was the one who dealt the final blow.”

Both to Olgolzkreh’s crazed Will and to his corporeal body. Scarlett thought that was enough to regard herself as his vanquisher.

At least in this context.

As for the names that would actually be recorded, she would let her party members decide for themselves whether they wished to be included.

“Hmm.”

That was the only sound the armoured woman made as they continued onward. Scarlett wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret it.

They ascended a narrow spiral stair, its outer wall broken at even intervals by thin openings that offered brief glimpses of Elystead’s cityscape and harbour. It was an interesting perspective of the capital that Scarlett hadn’t seen before. Until now, most of her views from Dawnlight Palace had been towards the south, facing Rellaria Lake.

The climb carried them higher into the palace until the narrower passages gave way to a grander corridor lined with gilded murals, vaulted ceilings, and statues of emperors. Palace Guards stood at attention along the walls, unmoving as Scarlett and Dame Iyana passed.

“You must have grown considerably since Windgrove,” the woman said as they walked past a marble bust of Galrath the Great.

“Indeed, I have.”

“Are you content with your moniker?”

“The ‘Revenant Flame’, you mean?”

Scarlett considered it.

“I suppose I am,” she said after a moment.

It was strange to think that she had finally entered the category of people this world deemed worthy of an epithet. This setting had always been fond of those, but they were generally reserved for the truly powerful or exceptionally accomplished.

“What of you?” she asked. “Are you fond of being known as The Frigid?”

Dame Iyana took a few moments to consider her reply.

“It suits me,” she finally said. “But I have always found it somewhat uncharitable.”

“Yes, perhaps. Though I wonder whether that is not simply the nature of epithets. In my case, it fails to acknowledge that I am rather adept at hydrokinesis as well as pyrokinesis.”

“At least yours does not imply quite as much about your supposed character.”

Scarlett let out a light chuckle. “No, you are right in that.”

She did wonder what thought had gone into the title she’d received. Had the emperor or his officials actually considered it before today, or had he coined it on the spot?

Was the ‘Revenant’ part meant to refer to how she was restoring House Hartford to something closer to its former prestige? That was how she had interpreted it, but there were certainly more macabre readings available.

Would it be acceptable to ask the man himself?

She and Dame Iyana settled into a companionable silence for the remaining stretch through the palace. Soon enough, they arrived before a set of looming doors fashioned from some sort of wood that Scarlett didn’t recognise. Its surface sat somewhere between auburn and dark red, with a faint glitter that caught in the light.

Two knights in the Royal Guard’s plate stood watch before them. From their builds alone, it wasn’t hard for Scarlett to identify either.

One was tall, broad, and imposing, though not quite on Holdger’s level.

That had to be the Fourth Sword of the Empire — Sir Dariel ‘The Stout’ Sagar.

The other was closer to the average frame of a man, but there was a quiet authority to the way he carried himself that made him seem more formidable than the larger knight beside him.

The First Sword of the Empire, as well as captain of the Royal Guard — Sir Tavion ‘The Proven’ Swale.

Sir Tavion gave Dame Iyana a brief nod, then turned his helmet towards Scarlett.

“His Majesty is waiting inside.”

Scarlett found herself studying him for a moment.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

His voice was surprisingly deep. There was a certain rasp to it as well, almost like he’d spent the last week chain-smoking, but it had been controlled into a low, steady rumble. His general presence also gave Scarlett the distinct impression that the blade at his hip could be drawn and at her throat before she had time to react.

It actually reminded her of the feeling she got when standing near Arnaud Astrey.

Without all of her equipment, it was entirely possible that this man could kill her before she could even try to fight back.

That was a sobering thought.

Especially after having just been lauded for killing an ancient dragon.

That said…

She wondered if there was just something about all the strong middle-aged men in the empire.

Arnaud had been oppressively threatening during their first meeting, only to later prove far more embarrassingly soft around Alyssa. In the same vein, Scarlett recalled Dame Iyana once mentioning that the famous knight captain in front of her was the sort of man who couldn’t stop talking once he got started, had a mania for woodworking, and possessed a questionable sense of humour.

Appearances really could be deceiving.

Sir Dariel opened the chamber doors, and Scarlett offered both Sir Tavion and Dame Iyana a respectful nod before passing them and stepping over the threshold.

The doors pulled shut behind her with a weighty thud.

Scarlett had never visited this place in the game, so the sight before her was entirely new.

The emperor’s office was a broad chamber surrounded by bronze-red stone walls and warmed by a fire burning inside a hearth shaped like a coiled dragon. At the chamber’s centre, a mechanical sun moved slowly beneath the vaulted ceiling, its golden rays turning with a soft, near-silent rhythm. Near the far end stood a crescent-shaped desk, positioned before an enormous sun-shaped window whose amber panes cast warm light across the polished floor.

Scarlett was surprised by how restrained the room felt despite being ostentatious in its own way. The Chamber of Elysia was far grander as a sight, but something about this place felt considerably more lived-in.

Seeing it also felt more satisfying.

Like an accomplishment.

It actually surpassed the satisfaction she had felt earlier while standing before the throne, though she wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that.

Scarlett’s eyes moved to the desk ahead.

Behind it sat the emperor.

He had removed the ceremonial robes he’d worn earlier and was now dressed in a dark green formal coat with gold embroidery at the cuffs and collar. There was no crown on his head, nor any of the regalia one might usually expect from the ruler of an empire. On one finger, he wore a gold signet ring set with a deep amber gem, which he turned idly with his other hand as he watched her.

Scarlett realised she had focused on the room before greeting him.

That was unlike her.

She lowered herself into a respectful curtsy. “Baroness Scarlett Hartford greets our empire’s gilded sun, Your Imperial Majesty.”

The man’s attention remained on her in almost uncomfortable silence for several seconds before he finally gestured towards a chair set opposite him.

“Welcome, Baroness. Have a seat.”

Scarlett crossed the office, gathering the folds of her gown as she sat and placed her hands in her lap.

“I believe you are the first member of your house to visit this office for almost three centuries,” the emperor said casually.

Scarlett was struck by how different his atmosphere felt now compared to earlier, when he had been seated on the throne.

Then, he had felt like a liege holding court before his assembled vassals. His speech had been formal and measured, not all that unlike Scarlett’s own.

Now, even though he had only spoken a few words, the person in front of her felt much more like a normal man.

There was a part of her that didn’t like that.

Another felt incredibly privileged to be allowed to witness it.

And then there was a third that wondered if the liege she had seen earlier was truly the ideal that had been worth the original Scarlett striving towards all those years.

“If I may ask,” she said, pushing those thoughts aside and focusing on the present, “do you know which Hartford would have been the last?”

The emperor shook his head lightly. “I couldn’t say for certain. I imagine it would have been the second head of your house. This room was not completed until Galrath was nearing his deathbed, so he did not receive many visitors here.”

“Then it is a great honour you have granted me, Your Majesty.”

Scarlett didn’t actually care all that much about the old ancestors of House Hartford beyond Arlene. Which of them had or hadn’t visited this office wasn’t exactly a subject that stirred her blood.

The various books spread across the emperor’s desk, however, were another matter.

Her gaze passed over them lightly, pausing briefly on a clockwork sphere ticking gently near the edge of the desk before moving to the volumes themselves. She noted their titles and bindings where she could, quietly wondering whether any might be the book the second princess had mentioned.

“It’s an honour you have made yourself more than worthy of,” the emperor said.

He leaned back in his seat, hands clasped.

“Your father was also a man of distinguished service. I recall bestowing several minor honours upon him for his merits, but those were granted during larger gatherings. Compared to him, what you have managed is truly exceptional.”

His expression softened by a degree. “I am certain he would be proud.”

Scarlett stilled.

That was an awkward thing to hear.

Not because it was insulting, but because it was probably the last sort of thing the original Scarlett would have wanted to hear from the emperor himself.

After a moment, Scarlett showed a mild smile.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

The emperor watched her for a second longer, then let the subject pass.

“Now, I am curious.” His tone shifted. “What do you think of the name with which I styled you?”

“I am humbled and gratified by it.”

“You are gratified, but you would not have minded if I had withheld it?”

“It would not have been for me to decide. I am well aware that it is a mark of grace Your Majesty was under no obligation to bestow upon me.”

“That did not seem to stop you from nearly preventing yourself from receiving it when you did not have to.”

He smiled, and Scarlett was slightly caught off guard by the lightheartedness of the gesture.

“Could you tell me,” he continued, “what it is about the Red Witch of Destruction that made you so willing to jeopardise your current prospects? She has been dead for well over two centuries. To be entirely forthright, I would have thought your house had removed all traces of its connection to her.”

Scarlett’s lips drew thinner.

“Feel free to speak candidly,” the emperor added.

‘Candidly’.

Scarlett swallowed a laugh.

“If I am to be honest, Your Majesty, I am more surprised that you were familiar with the specific circumstances of a minor house such as mine. Did you inquire into it because you knew about today’s proceedings?”

The man chuckled.

“There is much that comes with ruling an empire, Baroness. Among it is being familiar with the houses that have served us faithfully for generations. There may be many lineages that call these lands their home, but I don’t think it unreasonable for the people to expect their emperor to expend the effort to remember those charged with overseeing the empire’s domains.”

He unclasped his hands and gestured towards one of the walls, where several portraits of previous emperors and empresses hung in solemn arrangement. His finger indicated one in particular.

“It was Emperor Aldren who taught us that an emperor who remembers only the most important of names grows blind to the realm beneath them.”

“Wise words.”

“Indeed. Though with that said, yours is not difficult to remember. There are few houses whose circumstances resemble yours. I could count them all on both hands.” A faint, almost weary sigh left the man. “Had my predecessors been perfect, there would have been none.”

Scarlett…couldn’t tell which way she was supposed to interpret that.

Did he mean that perfect rulers would never have spared such houses in the first place?

Or that, under perfect rulers, there would never have been cause to punish them?

Either way, she suspected it wasn’t the kind of statement one was meant to question while seated across from the emperor.

“Your case is one of the more extreme ones, however,” he continued. “The Red Witch of Destruction—”

He stopped.

Then, after considering Scarlett for a moment, he corrected himself.

“Arlene Hartford’s actions mark her as perhaps the most infamous traitor in the early history of the empire. Especially for a mage of her prominence. And if I am not misremembering, she was not the only one from your house. There was a brother who defected as well, was there not?”

Scarlett nodded. “There was. Delmont Hartford. He disagreed with the treatment of his sister and joined the Rising Isle. His descendants remain there to this day.”

To the empire, it wasn’t surprising that they had been branded criminals. Whatever their reasons, Arlene and her brother had turned against imperial authority. Scarlett wasn’t going to waste anyone’s time pretending otherwise.

But she did disagree with calling Arlene the most infamous traitor.

Ustrum’s betrayal had been far worse, and at least part of it had been brought about by the empire’s own failings.

Though that was a well-kept secret.

It was entirely possible even the emperor didn’t know the full truth of it.

“That is an unfortunate legacy, Baroness,” the emperor suddenly said, causing Scarlett to blink. “But we cannot be held responsible for every failing of our ancestors, don’t you agree?”

She frowned slightly as she looked into his eyes.

…He was still talking about her situation, right? The timing there had to have been a coincidence.

“You are correct, Your Majesty,” she finally replied.

He showed another light smile. “Then would you mind explaining this interest in Arlene Hartford?”

Scarlett regarded him for a few moments.

There were several answers she could give.

She could say that Arlene’s connection to House Hartford had become a matter of personal dignity. That she had found records of it and, as the current head of the house, felt obligated to see even its disgraced members recorded honestly. That she didn’t believe silence and erasure served the empire any better than open condemnation.

It would be an arrogant answer, but probably an acceptable one. The emperor had already made it clear that he was willing to tolerate a certain degree of arrogance from her.

But sometime between the moment she had knelt before the throne and made her request and the moment she now found herself seated across from him in this office, another possibility had occurred to her.

Her eyes moved to the books spread across the desk.

There was another way to use her circumstances here.

Not the safest way. And certainly not the most comfortable one. It was a method she usually saved for when all her other options had narrowed, and she still wasn’t the best at it. But when used correctly, it could draw out far more than careful evasion ever would.

Her gaze returned to the emperor.

She would see where her own brand of honesty could bring her.

“Your Majesty, are you familiar with the Hall of Echoes?”