The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Taking All Thirteen As Wives (2)
Argider had finally decided to do the impossible: connect with her thirteen wives, one by one.

The challenge?

They were all unique, distinct, and, frankly, impossible to juggle.

She started with Lady Seraphina Eldwyne, who was still licking her wounds from a shattered noble family.

Seraphina had all the grace of a queen, but underneath that perfect facade, she was a nervous wreck.

Argider, with her usual playfulness, decided to launch into a ridiculous discussion about fashion. Of course, Seraphina, a noblewoman who probably could recite an entire history of gowns, was thoroughly unimpressed.

Still, Seraphina smiled. “I appreciate your… enthusiasm,” she muttered.

“Ouch?”

Next up was Amara Voss, a business-savvy merchant’s daughter from the Midward District. She met the Emperor during a grand ball and was charmed into a brief affair.

Argider attempted to impress her with some impressive-sounding talk about trade routes, but quickly realized that her idea of business was more “shiny trinkets” than “supply chains.”

Amara wasn’t amused.

She swiftly switched tactics and started talking about ridiculous investments in things like “magical teapots” and “enchanted wool,” and for some inexplicable reason, Amara laughed.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Nyra Caelmorne, the former bard, was next.

She took one look at Argider and started humming a seductive tune that made Argider feel like she had just entered the wrong tavern.

Argider tried to keep up with Nyra’s flirtatious antics, but after one too many exaggerated gestures and eyebrow raises, Argider gave in and dramatically sighed. “Well, I’m clearly the better storyteller, but I’ll let you have this one,” she quipped.

Talia Renvik, the widow from the Downward District, was more complicated.

Argider tried comforting her with half-hearted pep talks, which were received with a steely gaze. “I don’t need your pity,” Talia said, her voice rough, but Argider could tell there was something underneath.

After a long, awkward silence, Argider finally resorted to telling terrible jokes, which made Talia crack the smallest of smiles.

That was good enough for Argider.

With Elys Marrison, the youngest daughter of a minor noble family, things were, predictably, a little more innocent.

Argider tried to impress her with some “life lessons” that probably sounded more like “how to be a scoundrel.” Elys, wide-eyed and eager, hung on every word.

It was almost too easy.

Argider eventually grew tired of the earnestness and started sharing wildly exaggerated tales of her adventures, making Elys laugh until her cheeks flushed.

It was a win, if only because it didn’t require much effort.

Kassandra Vaelle, the herbalist, was a tough one.

Argider tried talking about plants and remedies, but she was lost after the second sentence. “I think you’re mixing up healing potions with salad,” Kassandra observed dryly, and Argider immediately adopted a “you got me” attitude.

To keep it light, she suggested they invent a new potion that made people “irresistibly charming.”

Kassandra seemed entertained. That was something.

Viora Stellwyn, the artist, was another challenge.

Argider had no idea about painting or colors.

So, she decided to just stare at Viora’s latest work of art, making exaggeratedly confused faces.

“This one looks like a noble in a hat!” she blurted.

Viora nearly choked on her tea, clearly not impressed. They laughed, and for a moment, there was a genuine bond. It was art… sort of.

Reina Dalwyn, the blacksmith, was much easier to handle until Argider decided to try to impress her by swinging a hammer.

The results were catastrophic.

She swung it like a ragdoll, knocking over an entire stack of metal.

Reina just stared, then deadpanned, “Well, I suppose you’re strong in… spirit.”

At least I have one thing going for me,” she sighed.

Mira Solren, the scholarly noblewoman, wasn’t so hard to deal with, except when Argider started rambling about philosophy in an attempt to sound intellectual.

Mira, her lavender eyes wide, tried to follow along but eventually just interrupted, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I like it.”

Argider grinned. “That’s good enough for me,” she said, relieved.

Elira Quenvale, the gentle apothecary, was a softer, more tender connection.

Argider tried to impress her by offering to help with her potions, but it quickly turned into a comedy of errors.

She knocked over a jar of crushed herbs, causing a small explosion of glittery powder.

Elira simply sighed. “You’re hopeless,” she said, but she smiled all the same.

Argider was pretty sure that was the most affection she’d gotten all day.

Sylva Arathorne, the botanist, was immediately entranced by Argider’s attempt to pluck a flower incorrectly. She sighed dramatically, explaining how you needed to “respect the plants.”

Argider, never one to back down, tried again. This time, pretending to be a botanical expert. “Ah yes, this one is a very rare flower, from the Mountain of…uh, what’s it called?”

Sylva just shook her head. “You are… something else.”

Calla Renshade, the baker’s daughter, was an easy one.

Argider simply stuffed her face with pastries while trying not to seem too greedy.

“You’re like a child!” the girl burst out laughing. “But that’s what makes you fun.” And just like that, Argider had earned herself another ally.

Finally, there was Orla Ventris, the sharp-witted courtesan.

Argider tried to engage in witty banter, but Orla wasn’t having any of it.

“You’re out of your depth,” Orla observed dryly. “But I’ll admit, you’re… amusing.”

She did this for two days straight. Two full days of bouncing from one wife to the next, trying to be charming, trying to connect.

And, of course, she tried to get along with the children too.

Oh dear lord, the children.

They were little demonic imps sent straight from the underworld to test her sanity.

The little gremlins had more energy than a thunderstorm and the collective focus of a squirrel on caffeine.

She tried playing games, but they were less “fun bonding” and more “let’s see how many things we can break before the adults catch us.”

By the end of it all, Argider’s mind was a fog of half-formed conversations, chaotic antics, and emotional exhaustion until she passed out on the bed chamber.

This time, the only thing on the agenda was sleep.