A moment later, the faint sounds of craftsmen murmuring and hammering drifted from outside the door.
The folding screen had long since been moved by Wendy, Laxana, and Yekaterina to block the entrance.
None of the three spoke.
The lingering air of ambiguity mingled with the noises of repair, forming an utterly absurd scene.
Miss Klein sat at the corner of the bed, hugging her knees, her head buried deep.
Her striking golden hair spilled messily, hiding every trace of emotion.
The Little Queen had regained her poise, reclining lazily at the headboard with one leg elegantly crossed.
Only those emerald eyes, which restlessly shifted between Wendy and Laxana, betrayed her inner turmoil.
Wendy felt his temples begin to throb again.
Three days.
This deadline hung over him like a Damocles sword.
He needed a perfect excuse.
An excuse to explain to Astreia why her Chief Mage Advisor had abandoned the border, rushed back to the royal capital, and even kicked down the door of her sister’s chambers.
“Assassination by the Veid Faction.”
This lie, hastily fabricated by Laxana in desperation, was too fragile—a single poke would shatter it.
Astreia was no fool. She was astute, perhaps even excessively so.
Once she returned, a mere few questions would unravel the whole farce of the previous night.
At that point…
Wendy dared not think further.
His gaze wandered the room aimlessly, seeking a lifeline amid the chaos.
Wait.
Crisis…
The best way to cover a crisis is to create an even greater one!
A flash of inspiration split through his muddled thoughts.
He remembered someone—Secretary Edwin Veid!
“I have an idea.”
Wendy’s voice was quiet, but it instantly broke the strange tension.
Laxana and Yekaterina, who had been silently competing with each other, turned their eyes to him in unison.
“Laxana,”
The Prince first looked at Miss Klein.
“The lie you told Astreia was that the Veid Faction was stirring up trouble against the royal palace, right?”
Laxana nodded blankly.
“Yes… that’s what I said.”
“Then let’s make it real.”
“What?”
Laxana froze.
Yekaterina also dropped her frivolous expression, surprise flickering in her emerald eyes.
Wendy ignored their shock and continued.
“Not only will we make it real, but we’ll turn it into a storm that sweeps the entire capital. One powerful enough that everyone will believe Astreia’s march was an act of justice, a crusade to set things right and save the kingdom!”
He stood up, pacing two steps behind the screen, his thoughts becoming ever clearer.
“First, bring that guy—Edwin Veid—out of the dungeon. Clean him up and dress him in his finest clothes.”
“He’s the Duke Veid’s lapdog planted at the Sunset Fortress, and a crucial witness. We’ll parade him through the streets and have him reveal the Veid Family’s plot to rebel. Let every citizen and soldier in the capital see and hear with their own eyes and ears what the kingdom’s greatest noble family was plotting.”
Laxana’s breath caught. She seemed to understand.
“And then?”
“Then, the Confession.”
Wendy’s eyes grew brighter, even tinged with excitement.
“On it is clear, undeniable proof of the Veid Family’s treason. Each charge is enough to put them on the gallows a hundred times over!”
“You mean—”
Laxana’s violet eyes widened.
“We’re going to make the Confession… public?”
“Exactly!”
“This… it truly would prove the legitimacy of Astreia’s advance, and cement the Veid Faction’s crimes…”
Laxana’s thoughts burst open, but then she frowned.
“But it’s not enough! Just parading and posting notices is too slow. By the time Astreia returns, the news won’t have spread far enough!”
“Who said anything about notices?”
Wendy smiled mysteriously, turning to the still-silent Little Queen.
“Your Majesty, do you remember that little invention I mentioned to Prime Minister Allison yesterday?”
Yekaterina blinked.
“You mean… that thing called ‘hemp paper’?”
“Exactly.”
Wendy snapped his fingers.
“But paper alone isn’t enough. We need something more. A weapon that can spread the Veid Family’s crimes to every corner of the capital overnight.”
He paused deliberately, savoring the suspense.
“Movable Type Printing.”
“Movable… type printing?”
The two women echoed the unfamiliar words, confusion on their faces.
Wendy moved to the desk, picked up a quill, and quickly sketched a few squares on parchment.
“Simply put, you carve each character into a separate stamp.”
“Then, like building blocks, you arrange these stamps as needed to form text.”
“Finally, you ink them and press them onto paper.”
“In this way, we no longer need scribes to copy every word by hand. By simply repeating the steps of inking and pressing, we can produce thousands of identical copies in a single day!”
At this moment, Wendy’s voice seemed to weave a spell, painting a vivid scene for the two women.
“Imagine it—thousands of newspapers flooding the streets like snowflakes, each with Edwin Veid’s confession on the front page!”
“Would Astreia still be seen as a rebellious Princess?”
“No. She would be the savior who set the kingdom right and rescued it from disaster!”
“As for the commotion from last night—”
Wendy gestured toward the door.
“It naturally becomes the glorious aftermath of your battle with the assassins.”
“Everything falls into place.”
At his words, the bedchamber fell silent.
Laxana and Yekaterina were speechless, stunned by the scope of Wendy’s plan.
They stared dumbfounded at the man before them.
This plan was beyond flawless.
It was alchemy—turning disaster into miracle.
He hadn’t just resolved the immediate crisis of trust; he had transformed it into a political triumph, firmly rooting Astreia’s legitimacy in the hearts of the people and the soldiers.
Laxana’s gaze toward Wendy changed utterly.
Gone was any trace of resentment or grievance—only a pure, almost reverent admiration remained.
She had always thought Wendy was clever, but more of a pretty-faced “mascot.”
Only now did she realize what a terrifyingly brilliant mind lay beneath that beautiful exterior.
She understood—honor was the foundation of any noble house. Such exposure would be intolerable to any aristocrat.
Yekaterina, the Queen of Valoran, was even more shaken.
She saw further than Laxana.
Papermaking. Movable Type Printing…
What did the union of these two mean?
It meant knowledge would no longer be monopolized by costly parchment.
It meant the royal will could be delivered swiftly and faithfully to every corner of the Kingdom, free from distortion or delay by local lords.
It was a new, unprecedented instrument of power.
A force capable of reshaping the world.
She looked at Wendy, and the possessiveness in her emerald eyes grew ever more intense.
“My… Prince.”
The Little Queen slid from the bed, bare feet soundless on the floor, and walked step by step to stand before the Prince.
She made no flirtatious moves, but, like a true Queen, bowed slightly in a flawless courtly salute to her subject.
“The future of Valoran is in your hands.”
Wendy exhaled deeply.
Done!
He knew that, from this moment, the hellish impasse had truly come to an end.
“Time is short.”
Wendy’s smile faded. His expression turned grave and resolute.
“Your Majesty, summon Prime Minister Allison at once. We’ll need her full cooperation for this plan.”
“Laxana, I need your help with the manufacturing of the Printing Press—especially the core magic inscriptions.”
“Now, let’s get to work.”
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