To put it simply, three months ago, I had to become the showpiece husband of the Iron-Blooded Empress, meant to pacify public sentiment, in place of my foolish, brainless younger brother who abandoned his duty and fled.

The moment I heard he had run away, I resolved to find him, break his legs, and drag him back. Unfortunately, I couldn’t carry that plan out.

Because the Empire’s delegation had already arrived.

In other words, when I happily returned to the royal castle, our kingdom was already on the brink of ruin.

“I’ve said this before, but I’m truly glad you’re here. Honestly, it would have been too much trouble to find another candidate.”

Even if it was just a decorative role, being the Iron-Blooded Empress’s husband was an enviable position for the boldest and greediest men out there.

I fundamentally dislike complicated things. Especially politics.

Still, I am royalty.

The thought of how many people across the continent must have coveted this role, and how many schemed and fought to take it, made my stomach churn.

‘In that sense, Meyer Kingdom is perfect.’

Always busy fighting endless wars against other races, Meyer Kingdom had no time to worry about internal or external politics.

Instead of worrying about continental affairs, they simply swung their swords a few more times.

…When you think about it, isn’t that kind of sad?

“Please convey my gratitude once again to King Meyer for keeping his promise. The supplies we promised will continue to be delivered without fail.”

“Ah, thanks.”

And I meant it. Meyer Kingdom was always lacking in everything. Even if the Empire sent us supplies they were planning to throw away, we would gratefully accept them without complaint.

“And as for your lifestyle…”

“I know. I’ll eat, sleep, and relax like I’ve been doing.”

Other than occasionally participating in parades for public display, I wouldn’t have anything to do.

With all opposition purged during the rebellion, there was no need to show my face at social parties, and above all, I was absolutely forbidden from getting involved in state affairs.

I thought I had given the correct answer, knowing my position perfectly. But apparently not.

My wife shook her head coldly.

“Sorry, but that won’t do anymore. I cannot allow my husband to laze around while leeching off the people’s hard-earned blood and sweat.”

“…Huh?”

What? This isn’t what I expected.

“Those three months were time I gave you to adjust to the capital. You seem far too comfortable now, so it’s time to give you some work.”

If I were given even a nominal title, it would undoubtedly cause problems for my wife. So why was she trying to put me to work?

No matter how ignorant I was of politics, I wasn’t naive enough to believe her talk about “leeching off the people’s blood.”

But trying to read the thoughts of my wife, a veteran of the continent’s political arena, was impossible.

“So what exactly do you want me to do?”

“Have you heard of the Hounds?”

“Nope.”

Living on the far eastern battlefields, I was completely ignorant of politics, trends, factions, and famous individuals.

To be honest, I just never cared.

As if she had expected my answer, my wife handed me a stack of prepared documents.

“To put it simply, the Hounds are an unofficial organization that handles the Empire’s dirty work. By ‘handling,’ I mean they’re sent to places requiring force or to perform assassinations. Anyway, you’re now their leader. Technically, you already are.”

As I listened to her explanation and skimmed through the documents, I felt the tension in me quickly dissipate.

It seemed the heavens had smiled on me after all.

The records of what the Hounds had done matched what Marianne said. They caused chaos for those uncooperative with the Empire or assassinated individuals deemed dangerous.

Even as an unofficial organization, it was infamous enough that everyone who needed to know about it already did.

And if the leader of such an organization was the Empress’s husband? That would make me the perfect target for those who hated her or the Empire.

In other words, it was a role designed to get me killed.

“Ah, so I wasn’t brought here as a hostage, a political shield, or a symbol of loyalty—I was brought here to be a scapegoat?”

My wife’s eyes widened slightly. It seemed she hadn’t expected me to say it so bluntly.

Still, she looked cuter with her eyes wide like that.

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“To answer that, I need to ask one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Will the support for Meyer Kingdom continue even if I die?”

For the first time, Marianne’s face hardened slightly. She looked a little angry.

“…You’re underestimating me. Whether you live or die, the promise will be kept.”

“Then I have no complaints.”

I really didn’t. But my wife’s eyes were filled with distrust.

“You truly have no resentment or anger after realizing you’ve been sent here to die?”

“Nope.”

Assassinations and murder attempts were an everyday occurrence on the battlefield. Compared to that, this was much safer.

My weak younger brother wouldn’t have survived this. That’s why I had no complaints about being here.

“You could be poisoned or cursed to death, you know?”

“Then I’d die. Simple as that.”

If they could kill me, that is.

It’s not that I wasn’t afraid of death. In my opinion, anyone who says they aren’t afraid of death is either insane or an idiot.

I was afraid of death too. I just stayed ready to accept it whenever it came.

“Hmm. I suppose optimism isn’t a bad thing.”

Marianne rose from her seat. Was the tea meeting over already?

“Other than leading the Hounds, you’re free to do whatever you want. You already do, but now you don’t need to ask permission, so live comfortably.”

Her tone suggested she already knew what I got up to. Of course she did.

“You remember you have to visit your homeland once a year, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry.”

Not that anyone would notice if I disappeared entirely, but still—it’s good to confirm.

“One last thing.”

“What is it?”

“Are we still going to sleep in separate rooms? What about marital life?”

“…Don’t even dream about it.”

With a cold glare, my wife left the room. I could have asked which family would produce the heir, but it was probably one of the rebel families.

“Well, I guess I won’t be having kids in my lifetime.”

I stuffed the remaining cookies into my mouth, washed them down with tea, and stood up to leave the room.

Since she hadn’t told me to start work immediately, I figured I could take the day off. Just as I stepped into the hallway, I turned and spoke.

“I don’t need a bodyguard.”

No response.

“If you don’t come out now, don’t blame me later if I mistake you for an assassin and kill you.”

Finally, Haria appeared. As always, her expression betrayed how irritated she was at being caught.

That annoyed look was cute in its own way.

“As I always say, I’m not a bodyguard. I’m a personal maid assigned to attend to you.”

“I know. You’re too busy spying on me and tattling to my wife.”

“…Where are you planning to go?”

“To a brothel to take care of some business.”

“……”

Usually, as the Empress’s husband, visiting a brothel was strictly forbidden for appearances' sake. But today, I felt like being bold and said it outright.

“You can’t.”

Haria rejected the idea outright, her expression as contemptuous as if she were looking at a bug.

“That’s disappointing.”

“Additionally, starting today, you’re to assume your duties as the leader of the Hounds.”

Oh, damn. Was that today?

“Then I guess there’s no choice. Explain the Hounds to me on the way.”

“You’ve already read the documents.”

“Hearing it directly from someone in the field is always a little different.”

The Hounds. Recently nicknamed the Empress’s hunting dogs. The “recently” part is because the Empress didn’t create the organization herself.

The Hounds were an old group formed by the Empire—more specifically, by the Imperial family and other high-ranking elites—to clean up their messes.

And most of the “messes” they dealt with were dirty work, naturally.

For example, if a marquis’s son impregnated a commoner, or if the daughter of the finance minister started dabbling in drugs, the Hounds’ job was to make sure there were no rumors or loose ends.

It was technically a government organization, but in practice, it wasn’t much different from a gang. The only difference was that its clients were of significantly higher social status.

Given the nature of their work, the members weren’t ordinary either. Most of them had no choice but to join due to circumstances or were coerced by the Empire.

“There’s no way loyalty exists in a group like that.”

“I’ve heard there are a few rare cases of people joining voluntarily. Extremely rare, though.”

Leaving the palace, I followed Haria toward the Hounds’ headquarters. Apparently, the place was a decrepit bar used as a cover, so much so that some people called it the doghouse.

“That’s a fitting name, isn’t it?”

“……”

Instead of answering, Haria picked up her pace. Wasn’t that a little childish?

“Is there some urgent matter in the organization?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then can’t we slow down a bit?”

“No. I’m looking forward to ending the misery of walking beside you as soon as possible.”

“Fair enough. Can’t argue with that!”

“……”

Ignored again. Despite my best attempts at humor, Haria kept speaking in her usual detached tone.

“The Hounds are bound by compulsory obedience contract magic, from the leader to the lowest-ranking member. However, as the Empress’s husband, you’re an exception.”

“Sounds like a leash.”

Once again, Haria said nothing. Maybe they referred to it that way among themselves too.

“Does that mean once you become a Hound, you’re stuck for life? Contract magic could be used to ensure secrecy, couldn’t it?”

Even someone like me, who wasn’t well-versed in magic, knew that much. But Haria’s response made me realize how little I understood the paranoia of those in power.

“They avoid even the remotest possibility. That’s why being released from the Hounds in any form is extremely rare. You usually have to die to leave.”

The dogs were in a far sadder situation than I’d imagined.

“Extremely rare doesn’t mean it’s impossible, though, right?”

“…There are stories of people being released after achieving extraordinary merit. But that’s incredibly rare and has nothing to do with you.”

Apparently, there weren’t that many tasks either, so the members could enjoy some freedom most of the time. The only downside—or maybe another feature—was that the number of members fluctuated, depending on deaths or recruitment.

“How many members are there now?”

“In the past, there were usually around 20. But during the rebellion, the Hounds were also used for political purposes, so the numbers have dropped significantly. Including you and me, there are currently 10 members. We’re here.”

When Haria stopped walking, I looked up to see a crumbling old building.

If it weren’t for the barely hanging bar sign, it could have easily been mistaken for an abandoned house.

“Before we go in, one last question.”

“What is it?”

“Is it only brothels that are off-limits?”

“...”

You don’t have to look at me like that. I’ve already said it might become a habit.

“As long as you don’t visit a place blatantly identified as a brothel and tarnish Her Majesty’s reputation, I don’t care. You can seduce as many women in the capital as you want, just as you’ve been doing. Personally, I recommend finding a log (dead body) and nailing (literally and figuratively) it in your bedroom.”

“That doesn’t sound appealing.”

It really doesn’t. I’ve tried it, so I know.

“…”

“Ah, wait. Could it work if I applied wood golems?”

Just as I was coming up with an innovative idea I hadn’t thought of in my less experienced days, Haria ignored me and entered the building first.