Moreover, Seraphina had never treated him like some fool to be placated, nor had she tried to “paint grand but empty pictures.”
Instead, she regarded him as a political equal capable of true understanding.
That had always been Seraphina’s intention. In the entire Demon Realm, he was the only one clever enough.
And clever people naturally sought out other clever people.
When you meet someone who insists that one plus one equals three, your first reaction is not anger—it is pity.
Then you simply keep as far away from them as possible.
“Your Highness’s difficulties… this servant now fully understands.” For the first time today, Dekrian revealed a genuine smile.
“For the future of the Demon Realm, certain necessary… ‘techniques’ are indispensable. That is perfectly understandable. My clan will undoubtedly support Your Highness’s new policy.”
Fine words were easy to say, but when it came to actual execution, Seraphina still harbored some worries.
She did not consider herself particularly skilled at reading people, nor did she believe everything she saw was the truth.
Feigned compliance while secretly opposing was all too common in situations like this.
Therefore, she had to bind Dekrian firmly to her ship!
And the rope she would use… would be profit and status!
“Not only that.” Seraphina struck while the iron was hot, steering the conversation back toward incentives.
“Regarding Lady Ailinuo’s coming-of-age ceremony, I have another suggestion. If Your Grace can successfully introduce several unforgettable human delicacies at the banquet, that in itself would be tremendous support for the new policy.”
“And furthermore…” She paused deliberately, making Dekrian focus even more intently.
“I hear that beside the Bloodborn territory, a newly surveyed mineral vein has been discovered… Perhaps the mining rights could be approved a little faster?”
Dekrian’s eyes instantly lit up.
The Bloodborn had an enormous need for certain gems and minerals containing special energies, yet most high-quality veins in the Demon Realm were controlled directly by the Demon King.
The newly mentioned vein appeared to be of exceptional value.
Seraphina knew perfectly well that this was what worried Dekrian most.
The vein itself was not within Bloodborn territory but in the buffer zone between two clans.
Dekrian urgently needed those mining rights. Why not grant him this favor in exchange for his loyalty?
This promise was far more substantial than empty titles.
Besides, Seraphina’s words carried special weight with Movira—at least where state affairs were concerned.
She was confident that all she needed to do was whisper a few words in Movira’s ear, and the matter would be settled.
“Your Highness may rest assured.”
A trace of barely detectable excitement colored Dekrian’s voice. If before this moment he had still been merely going through the motions, from now on he would follow Seraphina with absolute sincerity!
“My daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony will shatter all past traditions—it shall embody progress and inclusivity!”
“Finally.” The corners of Seraphina’s mouth curved upward as she looked at Dekrian. This time he was genuinely puzzled.
Was she going to go back on her word?
Even Dekrian, master of perfect composure, could not entirely hide a momentary stunned expression.
“Is there anything else you require, Your Highness?”
“For this… reform, I intend to establish an entirely new department to oversee everything. When the time comes, I hope Your Grace will be willing to participate!”
Participate? Me?!
Dekrian felt as though he must be ill—how else could he hear such words?
Every major and minor policy in the Demon Realm had always been driven by Movira.
Even after Seraphina’s arrival, though everything was handed to her, the will behind it remained Movira’s.
People like Dekrian could only offer suggestions. They had no power to decide. If Movira forced something through, they were helpless.
Yet Seraphina’s words implied…
Before he could fully process it, Seraphina extended her hand in an unmistakable gesture of handshake.
“You…” For a moment, even the ever-calm and steady Dekrian could not conceal his fluster.
For a sovereign—even if the Princess Regent was not a true monarch in the full sense—to extend their hand first before a subject already bestowed enormous face.
“My apologies, Your Highness. It is I who overstepped.” He swiftly removed his white glove and lightly clasped just the upper third of Seraphina’s palm before immediately releasing it.
The motion was so quick that Seraphina almost failed to react, yet she still smiled brightly at him. “Here’s to pleasant cooperation!”
“It is my honor, dear Princess Regent.”
…
Watching Dekrian’s satisfied departing figure, Seraphina let out a soft breath of relief and rubbed her lower abdomen, which still ached faintly.
“Dealing with clever people really is comfortable.”
With that final remark, she left the side hall.
The battles to come would tax her mind far more than facing abyssal lesser demons ever had.
For the sake of her taste buds and her stomach, Seraphina—for the first time—actively threw herself into administrative work.
Implementing the new policy proved far slower and more arduous than she had imagined.
Even with the support of someone as clever as Dekrian, the Demon Realm’s deeply entrenched habits could not be shattered by a few commands or reprimands.
For days on end, the lamps in the book room burned late into the night.
Seraphina buried herself in mountains of documents, handling not only absurd disputes but also the open and hidden struggles sparked by the “Merit of Tillage.”
The great nobles still had face to maintain; having pledged support in court, they refrained from too many underhanded moves in private.
But certain lesser nobles cared for no such thing.
Moreover, this policy directly cut into their profits.
Blocking a man’s wealth was akin to murdering his parents.
Some questioned the resources wasted on the new policy; others paid lip service while secretly sabotaging it.
All of these required Seraphina’s personal attention.
There were moments when she almost regretted it, yet the moment she thought of finally tasting proper food again, she crushed that regret and swallowed it down.
Of course, whenever she encountered particularly outrageous matters, her fingertips would tremble with rage, yet she still had to suppress her anger, remain calm, and issue measured judgments.
She always attached the latest reports from the Blackstone Outpost—proof that the trial crops were growing exceptionally well—showing that her decisions were not mere fantasy.
Physical exhaustion could be endured, but the mental pressure and uncertainty about the future—coupled with the familiar, subtle changes in her lower abdomen that hinted at something approaching—kept reminding her of their presence under such intense stress.
“Tch… troubles within and without!”
She massaged her throbbing temples, her gaze falling on the oppressive, dusky sky beyond the window. The gloom felt suffocating.
Yet until the new policy truly bore fruit, Seraphina still had to face those unimaginable meals.
It wasn’t that Demon Realm food was bizarre—only that it was… not quite normal.
It was edible, but somehow still hard to eat.
This afternoon, after enduring another “baptism” of lunch, Seraphina’s stomach churned violently.
Especially now, when “normal” food was almost within reach—the feeling was even worse.
Pure, pent-up loathing!