In the Doghouse - Chapter 191
SS-I.
Spring has come again after the seasons have turned.
It was the second spring since the throne had changed hands.
As the snow melted and the roads to the capital opened, reports from each territory poured in.
An annual event that occurred every spring.
From major incidents like minor skirmishes at the borders and changes in political situations, to minor disputes between neighboring territories, every event from the winter had been recorded in writing and placed on the emperor’s desk.
Fortunately, there had been no major disasters during the past winter, so most of the reports could be skimmed through quickly.
However, the documents piled up like a small hill in one corner of the office, matching the vastness of the empire’s land.
Richard glanced nervously at the clock.
Even as his eyes darted to the clock, his hands kept moving busily.
Tick-tock. The minute hand had made another half-circle already.
His hands moved faster and faster, as if trying to keep up with the diligent hands of the clock.
There was no time to spare as he tried to dismantle the mountain of papers alone in one day.
He spared even his breath as he read through the lines densely packed on each page.
The reports were filled with unnecessary flattery and rhetoric, making it difficult to grasp the main points at a glance.
“By the grace of Your Majesty’s boundless mercy…”
This sort of sycophantic nonsense should be directed to their own wives instead.
Although Richard found it utterly distasteful, he had no time to complain.
His focus flitted rapidly between words, scanning them without pause.
In the past, he would have either approved or rejected all requests without a second thought—or simply ignored them altogether—but after being caught red-handed last time, he could no longer afford to do so.
The same applied to having his aides ghostwrite for him.
Anton watched Richard—the former crown prince and now emperor—with a look of disdain.
Who first said that ‘the position makes the man’? Anton no longer believed in that saying.
For how many years had this procrastination habit persisted, with everything left to the last minute?
Even monkeys would learn better than this.
However, the emperor had no capacity to call out his chief aide’s impertinent attitude.
The harbinger of despair was drawing closer with each passing moment.
After quickly reviewing the last page in front of him, Richard gave a curt order.
“Next.”
Despite the grueling work that had begun at dawn, the aides moved seamlessly without a single word of complaint.
One aide neatly stacked the reports Richard had reviewed, while another brought a fresh batch of unreviewed documents to the desk.
Anton was the only one acting like an idle onlooker, while the others worked in perfect coordination.
What motivated them most was being able to see with their own eyes that the mountain of documents was gradually diminishing.
The emperor also responded to his subordinates’ expectations with every fiber of his being.
Richard added a note to the bottom of another report and pushed it aside, as if to show off.
The chief aide, standing close to the emperor’s desk despite the breach of etiquette, immediately picked up the report and checked its contents.
Despite the speed, the handwriting was neat, and the sentences were flawless.
The chief aide quickly took the imperial seal and stamped it on the bottom of the document.
It was an absurdly irregular work process that violated imperial protocol, but no one dared to raise an objection.
Meanwhile, Richard swiftly disposed of a poorly written report that wasn’t worth reviewing.
One after another, the thick pile of documents visibly shrank.
Finally, his field of vision cleared again.
However, Richard kept his focus on the empty desk, his nerves taut.
It wasn’t truly over yet.
Almost finished and completely finished were as different as night and day.
He tapped his foot anxiously and urged in a hurry.
“Next, next.”
The aides scrambled to move.
Now that the reviewed documents outnumbered the unreviewed ones, it became harder to distinguish between the two piles.
Anton, who had been watching the emperor’s unrefined behavior with his chin resting crookedly in his hand, interjected in an annoyed voice.
“That really is the last one.”
Only then did Richard let out a sigh of relief.
He had narrowly survived by the skin of his teeth, just before the deadline.
“Ah, we’re finally done.”
“Everyone, you’ve worked hard.”
To think they had managed to finish in just half a day.
The aides, buoyed by a sense of accomplishment, patted each other on the back.
Their joy stemmed not only from having avoided the spread of their master’s misfortune to themselves but also from the pride of overcoming a seemingly impossible challenge.
After all, they had finally dealt with the mountain of paperwork that had piled up for over a month.
Anton, however, snorted instead of celebrated.
He had secretly hoped Richard would fail this time.
Yet that annoying emperor had once again clung to life tenaciously.
Instead of addressing the cause of this mess, Richard slumped back in his chair.
He had exerted himself so much that all his energy and mental strength had been completely drained.
But it was too early to relax just yet.
The heavy doors suddenly swung open with a bang.
Richard sprang up from his chair like a ball bouncing upward.
After all, there was only one person in the entire empire who could barge into the emperor’s office like this.
“Courtney!”
