The World Is Mine For The Taking

Princess Myrcella's eyes widened, suspicion sharp and immediate as my demand hung heavy in the air. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came at first, as if the sheer absurdity of what I'd just said left her momentarily stunned.

"You… want me to make you the King?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with disbelief, as though daring me to confirm her worst assumption.

Her reaction? Expected.

Most people, when asking for something, knew to keep their demands within reason. Sure, there were those bold enough to push the envelope, even teeter on the edge of absurdity. But what I'd just proposed? It was beyond outrageous—it bordered on a goddamn fantasy. The kind of thing that would get someone thrown out of a negotiation, if not out of a window. Enjoy more content from empire

"You're not joking, are you?" she asked again, her voice softer now, but no less cutting.

"I'm not," I replied, meeting her gaze head-on. "I don't joke about matters like this. The only way you'll have my cooperation is by making me the King."

Her expression faltered. For a split second, I saw the raw frustration bubbling beneath the surface. She clenched her jaw, lips pressing into a tight line. Her fingers twitched—she wanted to scratch at her scalp, rake her nails through her carefully styled hair. But she didn't. A princess didn't lose her composure. Not in public. Not even when faced with something this absurd.

"This…" she began, her voice measured, almost too calm. "This is far more ridiculous than what I suggested earlier. Offering you my body, that is." She shook her head, a faint, bitter smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather strip myself bare than entertain such a demand. What you're asking… it's like handing over half the kingdom. And that's not something I can do. Only members of the royal family can rule."

Her point was fair. Monarchies didn't just let anyone take the throne. Unless, of course, someone married in—like the King once did, merging bloodlines and sealing political deals in silk sheets.

"Wait," she said suddenly, her gaze sharpening. "Are you implying I should marry you?"

I smiled, but it wasn't a kind one. "No, Princess. I'm not suggesting marriage. I don't need a crown or a throne. I'm not interested in playing dress-up for the court. What I want is control. You keep the title, the pomp, and the pageantry. You'll still smile for the crowds and wave from balconies. But behind the scenes?" I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I call the shots. You rule in name. I rule in truth."

Her face paled. Her hands, folded neatly in front of her, clenched tighter, the knuckles turning white. "You're asking for something impossible, Sir Faust. No royal could ever agree to that. To give you such power would be to surrender the kingdom itself. I would be nothing but a puppet."

She wasn't wrong. Her reasoning was sound, and I wasn't about to argue. What I was asking for was the equivalent of handing over the kingdom on a silver platter. It was a betrayal wrapped in velvet, disguised as a favor.

"I'm sorry, Sir Faust," she said, rising to her feet. Her movements were fluid, every step calculated and deliberate. "Your offer, tempting as it may be, is unacceptable. This conversation is over."

She turned, the soft rustle of her clothes the only sound in the balcony.

"Wait," I called after her, voice firm but calm.

She paused but didn't look back.

"You and I both know that money alone won't save this kingdom," I said, watching her carefully. "You didn't come here just to ask for funds. There's something else you need, isn't there?"

***

Myrcella's POV

The first time I saw that man, a chill had crawled up my spine and settled deep in my bones. It hadn't left since. Even now, as I stood there, his words echoing in my head, that cold, creeping dread lingered. His scaled skin, those blood-red eyes—they were etched into my mind like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.

He was terrifying.

But he had saved the kingdom. Without him, we would have been nothing but ash and rubble. The catastrophe he averted… it wasn't just our downfall he had prevented. If not for him, the entire world might have fallen.

Which is why tonight, I sought his audience. I called for him to cooperate with me, to help save the Kingdom from my father—a man doing nothing but sitting idly, waiting for the Kingdom's inevitable collapse. I believe that was his intention from the start. Since I was old enough to understand the world around me, I noticed how unmotivated he was. He did nothing. His reign was marked by apathy, indifference, and decay.

He wasn't a King. He was a corpse on a throne.

I knew his intentions, clear as glass. He wanted the Kingdom to fall. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he'd given up before I was even born. From the moment I could understand anything, I noticed how lifeless he was. No ambition. No drive. Just a hollow man collecting dust.

He was already old when I was born, and maybe age had dulled his ambitions. Or perhaps he never had any to begin with. The only things that stirred him were wealth and women. Even after his body failed him, after his manhood became useless, he still entertained mistresses—women other than my mother. A wife he had never loved, not even once. Their marriage was a farce. A political union with no passion, no connection.

It made me sick.

I had to save this Kingdom from that hollow shell of a ruler. Not just from him, but from the looming threat that hung over us like a blade waiting to drop.

The Empire was moving—fast and relentless. Their hunger for expansion knew no bounds, and they had already claimed lands across the continent. The Milham Kingdom was next. It wasn't a question of if but when. The people were terrified, whispers of invasion spreading like wildfire. If no one acted, if nothing changed, the Kingdom would crumble.

I had to stop it.

I couldn't allow that.

Which is why I had to meet him. The man who saved the world from annihilation. Christopher Faust. Owner of Leonamon, the largest company on the planet. His influence stretched across borders, and his wealth was unmatched. For now, Milham benefited from his monopoly. But if Leonamon ever decided to expand beyond our borders, the Kingdom's fragile economy would collapse. We'd lose everything.

At first glance, he seemed like a refined gentleman, detached and uninterested in the world's affairs. But I'd seen glimpses of his true power. And it terrified me. Even though I was grateful for what he had done—saving this Kingdom from utter ruin—I couldn't shake the fear he instilled in me. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating.

Yet, I had no choice but to take my chances.

What I didn't expect was the outrageous demand he made in return.

He didn't ask for gold or land. No. He demanded power. The right to rule in the shadows. He wanted to be the true King while I played the part of a figurehead.

It was impossible.

Agreeing to such terms would mean surrendering everything. I would become nothing more than a puppet, dancing on strings he controlled. The thought alone made my skin crawl.

Which was why I had no choice but to end this conversation before it spiraled into something beyond my control. Letting someone else rule the Kingdom from the shadows? Unthinkable. It wasn't just a risk—it was a guaranteed disaster waiting to happen. I couldn't afford to play a game where the stakes were this high. Deep down, though, I knew the truth: nothing good could ever come from a deal like that.

But as I turned to leave, his voice cut through the air like a whip—calm, controlled, and dripping with a confidence that dared you to ignore it.

"You and I both know that money alone won't save this kingdom. You didn't come here just to ask for funds. There's something else you need, isn't there?"

I froze mid-step, my pulse hammering in my ears. Slowly, I turned back to face him.

His long, white hair fell over his shoulders, brushing his back. His eyes—crimson, like freshly spilled blood—glowed in the dim light. His features were sharp, almost too perfect, like something carved from marble. But instead of quickening my heart, it sent a shiver down my spine.

And he was right.

I knew exactly what he meant. Money? It was just a means. But what I truly needed… what I had really come here for… was something far more dangerous.

"You need power," he said, his voice smooth, almost taunting.

I swallowed hard.

When I came here tonight, I had two goals. Simple, on the surface: convince him to keep his company from expanding beyond Milham's borders and secure his help in defending the Kingdom from the Empire's looming threat. Sure, money was part of the equation—but it was never the whole solution. Not for what I was planning.

I needed him. His power.

I'd seen it firsthand. The things he could do… No one else could match him. The Magic Knights were strong, but if I overthrew my father, they would turn on me. They wouldn't follow someone who staged a coup, no matter the reason.

But he could.

I hated how badly I needed him.

"I'll give you what you want," he said, leaning back like this was some casual negotiation and not a life-or-death pact. His crimson eyes locked onto mine, unflinching. "But only if you make my terms happen."