The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 62

Chapter 62: Marriage Ceremony
The underground prison buzzed with uneasy whispers as knights and experts paced, their faces shadowed with confusion. Despite hours of examination, the imposter remained an enigma. No one could definitively explain who—or what—she was.

Above ground, the emperor’s chambers were a whirlwind of activity. The aftermath of the battle left the room in disarray, yet attendants bustled to restore order. Argider sat on the bed beside Fialova, her injured arm nestled in a sling. The Duke’s healing magic had mended much of the damage, but the lingering ache reminded Argider of the chaos from earlier.

“I swear, if I had a twin sister, someone would’ve told me by now,” Fialova grumbled, fidgeting as an attendant adjusted the hem of her gown. Her golden dress shimmered with embroidery of lightning bolts, a nod to her bestowed magic. “This is ridiculous.”

Tina, the ever-loyal knight who had once risked her life to save Argider’s mother, stood at attention near the door. Her face was a mask of quiet concern. “It’s not an imposter,” she repeated, glancing nervously between them. “But they won’t explain what it is. They just keep… avoiding the question.”

Before Argider could respond, the door swung open with an infuriating lack of ceremony. In strolled Denzelle, his smirk as irritating as ever.

“Alright, enough dithering,” he declared, as though he owned the room.

Argider’s jaw tightened. This prick. She glared at him, her expression sharpening into a dagger. His smug attitude grated her nerves, especially after his cryptic threats about his mysterious “master.” For all she knew, he was orchestrating this entire mess.

“Why are you here?” Argider snapped, her tone venomous.

Denzelle raised a brow, unperturbed. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m one of the masterminds behind this wedding, Your Majesty. Now, get dressed. The nobles are arriving, and the show must go on.”

Fialova rose, rolling her eyes but nodding at the attendants beckoning her. “Wish me luck,” she muttered to Argider, following them out for the finishing touches to her bridal look.

The door closed, leaving Argider alone. Her corset bit into her ribs like an iron vice, making her breaths shallow. The wedding gown was stunning—layers of pristine ivory silk cascading like waterfalls, the bodice embroidered with golden phoenixes rising in intricate flames. Yet, beneath its beauty was suffocation, the fabric pressing too tightly against her skin and nerves.

She ran a hand along the skirt’s delicate folds, whispering to herself, “What am I even doing?” As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t shake the suffocating thought: someone, somewhere, was still pulling the strings.

But who?

Argider barely had time to consider the possibilities before another knock came at the door. Her breath hitched for a moment, but the knights stationed outside reassured her that she wasn’t about to be ambushed again. She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing over the arm sling cradling her injured arm.

When the door creaked open, it revealed not an assassin or a strange figure but her mother, Meloris. The regal woman stepped into the room with deliberate grace, her gown flowing like liquid silver around her. Her expression was rigid, but not in the sharp way that usually preceded a reprimand. This was softer, layered with concern she couldn’t easily conceal.

“My precious son,” Meloris sighed, gathering the heavy skirts of the gown she intended to wear for the wedding. Her voice carried a weight only a mother could manage, equal parts exasperation and unconditional love. “Why does trouble always find you?”

Before Argider could respond, Meloris swept forward and embraced her. The hug was firm yet gentle, warm against the chill of the cavernous palace. It was the kind of touch Argider hadn’t realized she needed until she felt it, a quiet comfort that seemed to melt the fear she hadn’t fully acknowledged.

She didn’t hesitate to hug her back, though the sling on her arm made it awkward. The emperor nestled into her mother’s embrace, feeling a wave of gratitude for the solid presence she brought.

“Mother, I’m not a boy anymore,” Argider said with a chuckle, her voice light though her heart ached from the tumultuous day.

“Ah,” Meloris pulled away just enough to look at her, dabbing at tears that hadn’t fully formed. She laughed softly, the sound filled with affection. “Forgive me. It’s just… you’ll always be my son, woman or man. That will never change.”

To think there had been a time when they could hardly bear to speak to one another. The frigid, duty-driven atmosphere of their household had kept them apart, both too unsure of how to bridge the distance. It had taken tragedies to shatter those walls, to remind them that they had never truly hated each other. They had simply forgotten how to love.

“Am I pretty, Mom?” Argider teased, flashing a grin as she leaned back.

Meloris raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. “So, you’re finally getting used to this, hmm?”

Their laughter echoed through the room, lightening the air despite the lingering tension.

The moment of calm didn’t last long. An hour later, the deep toll of the ceremonial bell reverberated through the palace, signaling the gathering of nobles and guests. The corridors buzzed with chatter, the grand hall filling quickly with attendees from all walks of life. Nobles of every rank, commoners fortunate enough to be invited, and dignitaries from allied nations gathered to witness the event.

Even so, whispers followed Argider’s name. The idea of her committing to marriage once more—again—seemed to baffle everyone present. Her reputation as a capricious emperor made such loyalty seem improbable. Yet, here they were.

At the front, the Scepter Council sat in their usual formation, faces stony and unyielding. All except for Gander Morrigan, father to Esmeralda. His demeanor betrayed a simmering displeasure over the new union, though recent rumors about Argider’s rekindled connection with his daughter seemed to mollify him.

The other wives stood off to the side, a trio of contrasting reactions. Callista wore a satisfied, almost smug expression, as though the chaos of the day had vindicated her in some way. Faeralys, however, stood with her arms crossed, her icy glare a sharp counterpoint to the warmth of the ceremony. And then there was Esmeralda, ever poised, her regal mask firmly in place, hiding any emotion that might have betrayed her feelings about the day’s events.

“Thank you for inviting me, Your Imperial Majesty,” Callista purred, stepping closer to Esmeralda with a grace that was both predatory and disarmingly elegant. The sly glint in her eyes betrayed a sense of triumph. She hadn’t expected the Empress, of all people, to extend an olive branch, especially given Esmeralda’s reputation for fierce possessiveness.

Esmeralda, however, didn’t miss a beat. Her lips curved into a sharp smile, the kind that made people question if they were truly welcome or walking into a trap. “Hah!” she scoffed, her laugh sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t invite you to bask in your presence. I invited you to ruin her.”

Callista’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before recovering into a delicate smirk. The venom in Esmeralda’s words was palpable, but there was no denying the delicious chaos in the air.

Faeralys, standing a few paces away, arched a brow. Her confusion was evident. While she didn’t claim to understand the nuances of political games, this exchange reeked of ulterior motives. Of course, Faeralys had a tendency to overthink in one specific direction. Is this about… bedchamber activities?

Her nose wrinkled at the thought. The recent swirl of rumors surrounding the Emperor and Empress had her stomach churning. Hmph… To think I once believed this man-whore might actually change.

It had been some time since she and Argider had spoken in private. And—thank the heavens Argider had never tried to touch her. Not once. She couldn’t tell if that was because of respect or indifference, but either way, it kept her mood relatively intact.

Still, the bitterness lingered. Faeralys didn’t know exactly what she felt for the Emperor. It certainly wasn’t love. How could anyone forgive someone so insufferable, so incorrigible? She crossed her arms, her piercing gaze flicking between Callista and Esmeralda, both of whom were far too absorbed in their schemes to notice her disdain.

The grand hall was a masterpiece of opulence, dripping with gold accents and intricate floral arrangements. The air itself seemed to hum with anticipation, though beneath the grandeur lay an undercurrent of tension. This wasn’t just a wedding. It was a spectacle, a stage on which alliances, rivalries, and secrets would play out, no matter how many vows were spoken.

And for Argider, seated in the center of it all, it was hard to tell which was heavier: the corset squeezing the air out of her lungs or the weight of the expectations placed upon her.

The heavy creak of the door drew all eyes to the bride-to-be. Fialova stepped into the room, her entrance quiet yet commanding. For the first time, the ever-battle-hardened knight, so often adorned in armor splattered with blood and grit, was transformed.

She was radiant. Clad in an elegant gown that clung to her form with a grace armor could never achieve, she exuded a delicate femininity that starkly contrasted her usual stoicism. Her hair, usually pulled back in a practical braid, cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, framing a face that now seemed sculpted from porcelain. Despite her unyielding strength, there was no denying the undeniable beauty she possessed—beauty that this day had unveiled to the world.

For a moment, the room held its collective breath.

“Wow…” Argider’s voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper, as though speaking louder might shatter the moment.

Her gaze was locked on Fialova, her mind briefly forgetting the chaos that had led to this day—the daggers, the accusations, the blood-soaked tension. In this instant, none of it mattered. All Argider could see was her bride, glowing like a vision she never realized she needed.

For once, everything felt still. Peaceful. Beautiful.