Classified (HIATUS)

File 2, Part 1 - Her Imperial Majesty

At this point, I can be the empress. All that is left for me is to tiptoe closer to his bed, gently push the blanket away from his face, pour several drops of potion in his mouth, do this for several weeks, and wait for him to turn white and stop breathing. After that, the crown will easily be mine. Besides, it is not like I am the person people suspect of anything. In short, poisoning him will bring nothing but advantages for me.

Is everyone confused? Let me explain my situation.

~o~

For as long as I can remember, I have embraced my role as a princess. Though I was not the crown princess, I remained a significant figure in the empire. I had access to the finest dresses, exquisite meals, devoted assistants, and loyal servants. Yet, these privileges came at a price, because I had responsibilities to fulfill.

For instance, while other girls my age might have dreamt of idle luxuries, I spent my evenings sneaking into the libraries to devour forbidden books, despite Father's disapproval. I eavesdropped on royal councils, overheard whispered schemes during banquets, and absorbed the nuances of diplomacy from ambassadors, nobles, and advisors. Through these pursuits, I amassed knowledge that fortified Father's strategies and benefited the empire.

Recently, I focused on perfecting magic potions and defensive barriers, tools I began experimenting with as a child. Inspired by a royal document from Grandfather, these creations proved vital against magical creature attacks. Through meticulous research, I uncovered the specifics of magic, earning respect, influence, and being taken seriously - even as a woman.

I believed my efforts would secure me a marriage to a powerful royal. Lacking my sisters' beauty-sharing only the color and texture of their hair, eyes, and skin, and nothing else-I relied on authority and intellect, qualities no ambitious man could ignore. My strategy was simple: secure marriages for my sisters first, then forge alliances to strengthen the empire.

However, life had other plans.

Father suddenly passed away in his sleep, due to suspected cardiac arrest; he had been suffering chest pains and palpitations for months prior, and fainted once. It left my older sister, the crown princess, to ascend the throne at the age of nineteen, her legitimacy backed by The Great Seer's prophecy. She was extraordinary. No one could defeat her in combat, whether armed or unarmed; she won with startling precision in mere seconds.

Her prowess stemmed from relentless discipline. Since age four, she trained under Father's watchful eye and the empire's finest guards, enduring grueling routines, injuries, and warrior techniques. Tears were forbidden; Father believed an empress must possess a mind, heart, and body of steel.

I remember watching her once, as a child, struggling to stand after a particularly harsh drill. The way her small hands gripped the dirt, pushing herself back up, despite the blood trickling down her legs. I held my breath, but also felt a certain pang. There is no stopping, not at all? However, Father merely nodded, satisfied, as if it were just another lesson.

Over time, I saw and felt the shift. At times, I would catch short glimpses of her in her negligee, a stark reminder that beneath the elegance of her gowns, her shoulders, arms, and legs were sculpted with lean, solid muscle. Her pistol shots were frighteningly accurate, slicing through thin sticks from a significant distance.

She was not confined to the fields and barracks, though. For as long as I knew her, she was a keen participant in meetings, tea parties, and balls-offering insights on the court's budget and resource allocation, the bases, strongholds, and forts available in times of war, the state of agriculture, and the empire's economic trajectories, among other matters.