Extreme Cold Era: Shelter Don't Keep Waste-Chapter 753 - 706: The Empress Is Critically Ill

Lord's mansion of Chernobyl, Perfikot now leads a leisurely life without the vexing entanglement of political affairs.

Although she still retains the governance over the Northern Territory, under her persistent guidance, the administration system of the north is already quite complete, capable of good self-regulation even without her intervention.

Though there are still some matters that require her personal involvement, they do not take much of her time.

A couple of hours spent each day on approving documents, listening to reports from the officials of relevant departments, and issuing instructions is sufficient.

The remaining ample time allows Perfikot to do whatever she desires.

Whether soaking herself in a hot spring until her skin wrinkles, or setting a table in the greenhouse garden to enjoy afternoon tea, Perfikot has enough leisure and leisureliness.

This makes her sigh and wonder why she hadn't resigned from all positions earlier, allowing herself to relax happily.

Those troublesome political affairs that feel like a hangman's foot should have long been assigned to others, rather than taking on them alone.

"Oh, the Prime Minister attended to every affair personally in the past, resulting in working himself to death, I can't make such a mistake!" Perfikot leaned back on a giant lounge chair, nearly drifting into sleep in comfort.

Soft bear fur lay beneath her, it's a huge polar bear pelt, with white fur over two meters long, capable of enveloping her entirely.

Lying upon it, allowing the furry sensation to wrap around her, she felt comfortable enough to keep her eyes closed.

Yet someone had to disturb her just then, the loyal old steward Foster approached her and whispered, "Miss, urgent telegram from Beloburg, Her Majesty the Empress is critically ill, requesting you to proceed to Beloburg immediately."

"What? Her Majesty the Empress is critically ill at this time?" Perfikot opened her eyes, her gaze laden with shock.

Although she knew the Empress's health had always been poor, and that she had little time left, critically ill at this moment...

"Understood, prepare the Flying Airship immediately!" Perfikot did not overthink and promptly instructed the old steward to prepare for travel.

However, the old steward did not leave instead, hesitated a moment before saying to Perfikot, "Miss, this matter might be tricky! Because along with this telegram came another piece of news.

Our people in Beloburg reported that the Royalist Party recently had a conspiracy, they seem to decide on some action; then came the news of the Empress being critically ill, as well as the mobilization of army and Knight Order loyal to the Royal Family."

Beloburg is now controlled by army and Knight Order loyal to the Royal Family; should there be anything amiss, your proceeding there could be..."

The old steward knew he shouldn't say such things, but seeing as Perfikot is the sole descendant of the Brandlis Clan, he couldn't possibly watch his Miss step into danger.

Upon hearing the steward's explanation, Perfikot hesitated for a moment, closed her eyes, and fell into contemplation.

The steward's intention was clear: the news of the Empress being critically ill was likely fabricated by the Royalist Party to lure her to Beloburg and then employ military against her.

They could either be planning to confine her or to eliminate her once and for all.

After all, Perfikot has no heir; should she perish, the leadership of the Northern Territory in both legal and nominal terms would cease to exist.

At that time, even the entire Northern Count's territory will cease to exist, the empire would reclaim the northern lands, and the entire northern forces would disintegrate.

Perfikot did not anticipate anyone in the north could inherit her mantle, possessing sufficient reputation and influence to hold the Northern camp together.

After all, she is just eighteen years old, unmarried, and without offspring, should she die, the Northern Faction would vanish like a castle on the sand.

Especially since the Brandlis Clan is indistinguishable from being extinct, her death would lead to the family's obliteration.

As for the branched families? They might have the qualification to inherit Baron Brandlis title handed down by Perfikot's grandfather, but they do not have any chance at Perfikot's Northern Count title.

And this constitutes the greatest flaw in the north.

Originally, this was no issue; given Perfikot is just in teenager years, she could lead the north for at least several decades, with no one worrying about this issue.

However, should anyone target her, even planning to eliminate her with force, then this flaw suddenly becomes the north's most fatal weakness.

There haven't been no attempts on this notion before; many have initiated attacks and assassinations against Perfikot numerous times, even continuous events of such.

Nevertheless, these attempts have been foiled by the northern territory's powerful security measures and armed forces, with many being uprooted by the northern intelligence system and Assassin Brotherhood, extending cleaner to the instigators behind.

So gradually, both Perfikot and the Northern Faction members became indifferent to this, as long as security measures are properly ensured, safeguarding Perfikot's safety is enough. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"They set their sights on me, did they? These people are really..." Perfikot reopened her eyes and shook her head helplessly.

Meanwhile, she also admired them for pinpointing the crucial point of this breakthrough.

Indeed, once resolved her, the Royalist Party's current predicament becomes non-issue.

Upon thinking this, Perfikot told the old steward, "Grandpa Fu, please prepare the Flying Airship and my special train."

"Miss, are you still planning to go?" Foster attempted another persuasion.

However, Perfikot merely waved her hand, "Her Majesty the Empress has shown me profound kindness, regardless whether the news is true or false, I must visit Beloburg. So Grandpa Fu, spare me more persuasion.

But don't fret, their attempt to manipulate me with this move lacks some maturity."

"Miss, since you said so, I request to accompany you, under any circumstances I must personally ensure your safety." Perfikot held her resolve, Foster held his principles and baseline.

Facing the steward's persistence, Perfikot did not reject, nodding and said, "In that case, Grandpa Fu, prepare your Steam Armor! It will come in use for this trip."

"Yes, Miss." Foster took orders and departed.

"Seems like the plan I originally intended to not execute is being pressed by them to pursue this necessary path." Perfikot's eyes revealed a sense of melancholy.

Despite all this can be considered her calculations and planning, when it comes to this point, she can't help but feeling helpless.