The Tyrant's Daughter-in-Law

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Prologue

"We have arrived at Galnem."

Needle-sharp wind howled through the high mountains and valleys, carrying a biting chill.

The empire's highest powers sat atop their horses with rigid expressions, their identities concealed yet their presence undeniably imposing. Behind them stood iron-blooded soldiers with discipline as sharp as blades, motionless as statues.

Their lord and noble blood of the imperial family, the Fourth Prince Parmes Aslet, had silver hair like frost and red eyes. His gaze was dry yet fierce, like a predator eyeing its prey.

"This land will serve as the foundation of our conquest, Your Majesty."

The bespectacled man seated beside Parmes continued.

A village where poison and medicine gathered together — outwardly unremarkable, yet far from ordinary within. Galnem was the perfect strategic location for Parmes, who coveted the throne, to hide his secrets and weave his schemes.

As Parmes dismounted, a soldier in silver armor quickly dropped to his knees beside the horse. The sound of Parmes's boot stepping onto the soldier's back echoed.

He set foot on the dirt path ahead — a ruthless stride that had trampled only cold stone, corpses, and blood until now.

After about three steps, the tip of Parmes's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

A single bright yellow flower with broad leaves bloomed beneath his feet.

Parmes glanced down at it for a moment. A faint, cold smile touched his lips and vanished.

His gaze returned to the front, and his shoe stepped over the flower with indifferent, merciless steps.

Everyone followed behind Parmes.

Chapter 1

"Alright, alright! Welcome, Mr. Panel, and Mrs. Violet! It's time, so let's get started."

I greeted the two neighbors who had come to our yard today. In our tiny yard sat a towering, menacing-looking man with a mohawk hairstyle and a plump woman with a round face and a Beethoven-style haircut, both looking at me demurely. They were Mr. Panel and Mrs. Violet, in that order.

Raising the spoon in my small hand, I said with a serious expression, "Red Sugar Beet sherbet is a two-for-one food that delivers both taste and health."

It might look like door-to-door sales, but no. What I was doing right now was the ultimate lesson to save the students before me.

Allow me to introduce it: the Red Sugar Beet Recipe Lecture!

For reference, the Red Sugar Beets here were a completely different species from modern red sugar beets — a vegetable closer to a sweet fruit.

Mrs. Violet, who had been watching my dramatic explanation intently, opened her mouth with a smile.

"It must have taken a lot of work to process the sugar beets."

"Oh, it's fine. Uncle Zimmer helped me."

As soon as I mentioned Uncle Zimmer's name, the woman's eyebrow twitched and she flinched.

"Ah... I, I see."

"...Cough."

Then the massive Mr. Panel sitting beside her wriggled his caterpillar-like eyebrows and blew out a breath through his nose.

For reference, the Uncle Zimmer I had just mentioned — who didn't exist here — was my closest friend in our village, a neighbor who always got into trouble and ended up getting scolded by me every time.

Now, I knew Uncle Zimmer was somewhat distant from the other villagers, but... it still hurt a little each time he was rejected like this.

He was a man who showed his shortcomings even to a ten-year-old like me, so adults would see it even more clearly.

Sigh. Poor Uncle Zimmer.

No, I can't let this go. I need to take his side.

"Uncle Zimmer is really a kind person. He might seem a bit foolish, but once you get to know him, you'll see him in a whole new light!"

"..."

"..."

A brief silence passed.

"I, I see."

Mrs. Violet nodded, still wearing an awkward smile on her face.

After a while of awkwardness, my lecture resumed.

Though calling it a lecture was generous — I was teaching them how to dry Red Sugar Beet fruits, when to mix them with beet juice, and how to shape them into pills.

"Now if you put this in the Ice Valley for about an hour, you'll have delicious sherbet!"

"My goodness. It's this delicious even without freezing... hmm!"

"If you bite into this while charging into a blazing battlefield, you won't feel the heat."

Mr. Panel said something strange again, as he often did. I'd just let it slide.

"Anyway, you didn't forget the homework I gave you last time, right?"

At my words, Mr. Panel and Mrs. Violet exchanged glances.

When neither of them spoke, I continued with a stern expression.

"Making sugar beet pills."

"Uh... well... that..."

"Don't tell me you didn't do the homework? I told you, they get incredibly delicious once they age!"

After my recipe lecture, I always gave them homework on making preserved foods.

Honestly, that was the whole point.

I didn't want to see my beloved villagers starve to death during a famine.

"I told you, right? A terrifying tyrant will rule the empire someday, and a great famine might come!"

That was right. In three years, a terrible famine would strike the empire, and the nation's finances would be so ruined that even warhorses would be used as food.

That was why I was personally teaching these innocent, clueless neighbors how to survive a famine!

"Y, yes. While I was impressed that the rice cakes could serve as military rations, this humble one will soon be leaving this place..."

"Mr. Panel, be quiet. That matter is still a secret to Arinell. Shh!"

Mrs. Violet scolded him with a stern expression, and Mr. Panel flinched.

What are these delinquent students whispering about when they haven't even done their homework!

Just as I was about to scold them, Mrs. Violet's voice came, hastily changing the subject.

"But Arinell, you really don't want to go to school, do you?"

I paused at her words.

Children in the imperial capital went to school, just like in modern times.

"Yes, I just prefer reading books on my own. I'm confident I can do better than kids who go to school, even by myself."

But of course, I had no intention of going to school.

When the great famine came, many people in the cities would starve to death without a doubt.

My home, where I could dig up even grass roots and had precious Red Sugar Beet pills, was the better choice.

Right! Exactly. I placed my hand on my hip and nodded.

"Arinell, in my opinion, you're special. I've graduated thousands of ladies from the capital, but..."

"Hmm?"

I asked back, puzzled by Mrs. Violet's words.

"Ah, from my arms, I mean. When I was young... I ran an orphanage in the capital. An... orphanage for beautiful ladies."

"Really?"

An ordinary-looking village woman was an orphanage director? That was impressive!

But did orphanages use the concept of "graduation" too?

Mr. Panel cleared his throat again.

"Cough!"

"In my opinion, with my impeccable eye, Arinell, you are special. A girl as smart, creative, and survival-oriented as you is rare. You'll surely become the flower of flowers."

Seeing Mrs. Violet suddenly grab my hand and her eyes light up, I flinched.

Her cheeks were flushed a bright red.

"Someday, there will surely come a time when you need to learn something somewhere other than school. When that day comes, please call me."

"Arinell."

As soon as Mrs. Violet finished speaking, Mr. Panel cut in abruptly.

"The accomplishments of ladies are useless in real, blood-soaked combat. In this humble one's opinion, your true talents lie elsewhere..."

"No... I mean, Mr. Panel! Arinell is mine first!"

Mrs. Violet's shrill protest rang out.

"Arinell will take her place under this humble one's command. You, madam, should not entertain false hopes!"

Mr. Panel waved his thick arm and said with a solemn expression.

"Mr. Panel, I'm disappointed you didn't see it that way. Still, you can't just barge into someone else's business..."

"You, madam, broke the rules first!"

Oh dear, they're fighting again.

The two of them always tried to persuade me passionately whenever they got the chance, insisting that I should follow them to learn either social etiquette or battlefield tactics.

I had no idea why social accomplishments or war tactics would be needed in a place like this countryside, but there it was.

"Everyone, stop."

Then, a voice came that rescued me from the suddenly overheated atmosphere.

When did he appear?

Mr. Arms, the latecomer who appeared last in today's class, pushed up his glasses and stopped the two fighting men, his brown ponytail flying as he ran over.

Mr. Arms lived next door to Uncle Zimmer, whom I had mentioned earlier, and spoke in a strange way that was neither noble nor commoner.

If I had to describe it, it was like a commoner imitating a noble — or maybe the other way around?

"What are you doing in front of a child? Arinell is scared, thinking you're fighting. And the two of you."

At Mr. Arms's blunt voice, Mr. Panel and Mrs. Violet stiffened.

"Breaking the rules we set from the beginning is not advisable. If the two of you continue like this, I may have no choice but to join this war myself."

At his words, which sounded like a threat, Mr. Panel and Mrs. Violet looked at each other.

It seemed neither of them was a match for Mr. Arms.

Mrs. Violet sighed softly and opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Arinell."

"Cough. This humble one's greed was excessive."

Mr. Panel also apologized to me.

After a while, they left with the Red Sugar Beet sherbet recipe they had copied from me.

"Make sure to do your homework next time!"

I called after their backs, and Mr. Arms's voice came from beside me.

"...Have the villagers offered to teach you something, besides those two?"

"Ah. Aunt Annie said she'd teach me about law, and Uncle Burnell asked if I was curious about alchemy. But we're too busy trying to make a living... and I wasn't interested, so I declined."

At my words, it looked like sparks flew from Mr. Arms's eyes behind his glasses. Then he clenched his fist and muttered something.

"So they all pretended not to care, but were busy working behind the scenes."

Was I imagining it? He looked angry, as if betrayed.

After a while, Mr. Arms raised his gaze and moved his lips in a low voice.

"What they're talking about isn't important in life. It's just a side branch."

"Ah..."

"The most important thing in life, and what you must learn."

His serious voice burrowed into my ears.

A dark gaze through cold glasses was fixed on me.

"...It's money."

My name is Arinell Maila, a victim of the common reincarnation truck and a novel transmigrator.

The novel I transmigrated into was I Will Stop Being the Tyrant's Mistress, a tragic romance about the tyrant's mistress, Amelia, being obsessed over by the tyrant.

The fearsome tyrant's name was Parmes Aslet. Nicknamed the "Silver-Haired Demon," he would soon plunge the empire into terror alongside his four ministers.

The ministers representing the Royal Household, Military, Economy, and Foreign Affairs were also terrifying villains who shared the tragedy in the novel alongside Parmes.

The reason I said "soon" was because "that event," called the worst in history in the novel, had not yet occurred.

But it will definitely happen, and I can't stop it.

Because I had no connection to the imperial palace at all — I was just a village girl's daughter.

So I guess you could say I'm not even an extra, just a random citizen number one.

My mother was supposedly a knight of some noble, but she came to the village of Galnem, a village within a village, after becoming pregnant with me.

In this village of only seven households, I grew up picking wildflowers. After my mother passed away when I was seven, I lived by developing food recipes to share with the villagers, growing Red Sugar Beets with my capable hands, and gathering medicinal herbs.

All the villagers were uniquely strange, but they were all kind-hearted people.

And among the neighbors of Galnem village, the person who had come to me looking tearful right now was...

"Oh my goodness, again? Haa..."

It was Jon Zimmer, the most troublemaking of the villagers I took care of.

What had happened this time? Uncle Zimmer showed me the wound on his ankle, saying he'd scraped it on a nail that popped out of the stairs.

I placed my small fist on my hip and sighed, pretending to be angry.

How could an adult get hurt more than kids do?

"Arinell can just heal you again."

"I don't know. Next time I'll pretend I don't see it."

I said that, but I took out the ointment I had made myself from the herb box and applied it to his ankle.

It looked like a pretty deep cut, but at least it wouldn't leave a scar at this level.

"You really won't heal me next time?"

The man asked me in a pitiful tone, his eyebrows drooping.

What, seriously! Wasn't it too shameless for an adult to get treated by a ten-year-old like me?

"...Really?"

Ugh, I was really trying to get angry this time.

But when he asked with that face and those eyes, I had no choice but to answer this way — whether before or after transmigration, I was weak for handsome men.

"No, how could I turn my back on you? But I get upset when you get hurt. You said you cherish me, right? Do you want to see me hurting over this?"

At my point-by-point questioning, Uncle Zimmer's ordinary brown eyes rippled faintly.

Was I imagining it? For a moment, they seemed to darken with a deep red hue.

Uncle Zimmer slowly shook his head.

"So don't get hurt. For my sake too."

After finishing the treatment, I urged him once more.

My neighbor, Jon Zimmer, had a face so handsome it was hard to get used to no matter how many times I looked at it, and a gradually emerging innocent smile.

"As I thought, Arinell is the best in the world to me."

The man's smile that lit up the surroundings.

Watching that smile, I thought that the small, happy daily life with Uncle Zimmer and the other villagers would last forever.

Until the day Uncle Zimmer and the villagers disappeared from the village like they evaporated, on a rainy day, leaving behind a letter that sounded like a lie.

And in the same year, news came that the tyrant Parmes Aslet, the protagonist of I Will Stop Being the Tyrant's Mistress, had succeeded in his rebellion and ascended the throne.