The Villain Professor's Second Chance

The queen rarely gives special rewards to someone, and Draven, the arrogant, domineering, with countless bad rumors about him is about to get her favor?

The question hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. The court held its breath, eager to hear Draven's response. It was not every day that the Queen offered a reward so openly, and it was certainly not every day that a man like Draven was in a position to claim one. Enjoy exclusive content from mvl

Draven remained silent for a moment, his cold eyes betraying no emotion as he considered the Queen's words. He was a man who rarely asked for anything—he took what he wanted, through power, influence, or sheer force of will. Yet here he was, being offered something by the most powerful woman in the kingdom. The court waited, tense and curious, as Draven's mind worked behind his unreadable gaze.

Finally, he spoke, his voice steady and measured. "Your Majesty, I seek only to continue serving the crown as I have always done. My loyalty is my reward."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the court. The ministers exchanged bewildered looks, unable to comprehend why a man like Draven would refuse a tangible reward from the Queen herself. In their minds, it was an opportunity to solidify his power, to claim something that would elevate his already formidable status.

But Draven, it seemed, was playing a different game—a game where the rules were known only to him.

Queen Aurelia, however, did not seem surprised. If anything, her smile grew wider, more knowing. "A noble sentiment, Draven, and one I do not doubt. But surely, there is something you desire. Something I can grant you in recognition of your invaluable service."

Draven's eyes met the Queen's, and for a brief moment, something flickered in the depths of his gaze—something almost imperceptible, but enough to suggest that perhaps there was more to his request than mere humility. But just as quickly as it had appeared, the flicker was gone, replaced by his usual cold, controlled demeanor.

"Your Majesty's continued trust is all the reward I seek," Draven replied, his voice as impassive as ever. "To serve the crown faithfully is both my duty and my honor."

The Queen's gaze lingered on Draven for a moment longer, as if she were trying to peer into the very depths of his soul. The court remained in a state of quiet tension, the silence almost oppressive as they awaited the Queen's response. But Aurelia's smile never wavered, and after a moment, she nodded, as if she had expected nothing less from the enigmatic lord.

"Very well, Draven," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality. "Your loyalty is duly noted, and it is my hope that you will continue to serve the crown with the same dedication and skill that you have always shown."

Draven bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect that was more genuine than anything the court had seen from him before. "As you command, Your Majesty."

The Queen's smile softened, and she took a step forward, her gaze still locked on Draven's. "However, should you ever find yourself in need of anything—be it a favor, a title, or even a simple request—you need only ask. The crown is not so ungrateful as to let your deeds go unrewarded."

Draven inclined his head once more, though his expression remained as inscrutable as ever. "Your generosity knows no bounds, Your Majesty. I will keep your offer in mind."

With that, the Queen turned her attention to the court, her demeanor shifting back to that of the commanding ruler they were accustomed to. "This audience is concluded," she declared, her voice firm. "I thank you all for your service and loyalty. You are dismissed."

The ministers and guards bowed deeply, their relief palpable as the tension in the room finally began to dissipate. They filed out of the throne room in orderly fashion, though their minds were undoubtedly racing with questions and speculations about the exchange they had just witnessed.

As the last of the courtiers exited, the grand double doors closed with a resounding thud, leaving only Draven and the Queen in the vast hall. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken thoughts, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Aurelia broke the silence, her voice much softer now that they were alone. "You truly are a man of mystery, Draven. Most would have seized the opportunity to ask for something—anything. Yet you chose to ask for nothing at all."

Draven's expression remained calm, though there was a hint of something in his eyes—perhaps amusement, perhaps something deeper. "A man in my position learns that power lies not in what is asked, but in what is not. Besides, Your Majesty, I already possess more than most could ever dream of. What more could I possibly need?"

The Queen chuckled softly, shaking her head in mild disbelief. "You are a difficult man to understand, Draven. But perhaps that is what makes you so effective—and so dangerous."

Draven's lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile, though it was more a formality than an expression of true emotion. "I am whatever Your Majesty needs me to be."

Aurelia's eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no malice in her gaze—only curiosity, and perhaps a trace of admiration. "And what is it that you need, Draven? What drives a man like you, who already has everything?"

For the first time since he had entered the throne room, Draven hesitated. It was only a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Aurelia to notice. His blue eyes seemed to darken slightly, as though shadows had passed over them, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter, more introspective.

"What I need, Your Majesty, is to ensure that this kingdom remains strong and unyielding in the face of any threat. What drives me is the knowledge that there are forces at work—both within and beyond our borders—that seek to undermine all that we have built. My loyalty is not just to the crown, but to the very essence of this kingdom."

The Queen studied him for a long moment, her expression thoughtful. "And you believe that your loyalty alone is enough to protect the kingdom from these threats?"

Draven's gaze met hers, unflinching. "Loyalty, when coupled with power and knowledge, can move mountains, Your Majesty. It can shape the course of history."

Aurelia nodded slowly, her expression softening. "Then let us hope that your loyalty, power, and knowledge will continue to guide us through whatever challenges lie ahead."

Draven bowed his head slightly, a gesture of respect that was both genuine and calculated. "As long as I draw breath, Your Majesty, this kingdom will have my unwavering loyalty."

Aurelia chuckled softly, the sound echoing lightly in the vast hall. She raised her arms above her head, stretching them out as if she were waking from a long, arduous slumber. Her joints cracked audibly, and she sighed in contentment, finally allowing herself to slip into a more informal posture.

The regal bearing she had maintained for the duration of the audience melted away, replaced by a relaxed, almost lazy stance.

Draven remained where he stood, watching her with the same detached interest that he had displayed throughout their conversation. His expression didn't change, though there was a slight softening around his eyes—an acknowledgment of the Queen's sudden shift in demeanor.

The Prime Minister, Elric Othmar, who had remained near the throne throughout the proceedings, stepped forward with a furrowed brow. His weathered face betrayed a hint of disapproval as he cleared his throat gently. "Your Majesty," he began, his tone cautious, "this is not the proper posture for a ruler, especially in the presence of—"

"Oh, shut up, Elric," Aurelia interrupted, waving a dismissive hand at the elderly man. "I'm tired of playing the proper queen all the time. I swear, if I have to sit straight for another minute, I'll turn into one of those stiff statues you love so much."

Elric's mouth tightened into a thin line, but he wisely said nothing more. He knew better than to argue with Aurelia when she was in this mood. The Queen had always been a force of nature—unpredictable, sharp-tongued, and wholly unapologetic for her behavior. It was part of what made her such a formidable ruler, though it often left those around her struggling to keep up.

Aurelia turned her attention back to Draven, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Now," she said, her tone shifting to something more casual, "let me ask you again, Draven. What do you want?"

Draven, ever composed, did not flinch or waver under her direct gaze. His blue eyes remained steady, his posture as rigid and controlled as ever. "Your Majesty, as I have already stated, I seek nothing more than the continued trust of the crown. My loyalty is my reward."

Aurelia's smile faltered, and she narrowed her eyes at him, her expression turning shrewd. She tilted her head slightly, studying him as though he were an intricate puzzle she was trying to solve. "You really are a persistent bastard, aren't you?" she muttered, more to herself than to him. There was no malice in her words, only a grudging respect for his steadfastness.

She paced the floor in front of her throne, her arms crossed over her chest as she considered her next move. Draven's refusal to ask for anything—a title, a favor, a piece of land—was not just unexpected, it was frustrating. She was used to people clamoring for her favor, seeking to gain something from their service. But Draven was different.

He played by his own rules, and it intrigued her as much as it annoyed her.

Suddenly, Aurelia stopped in her tracks, her eyes gleaming with a new idea. She turned back to Draven, her smile returning, though this time it was sharper, more calculating. "Let's try a different question, then," she said, her voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Draven's expression remained impassive, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. "Your Majesty?"

Aurelia took a step closer to him, her gaze locked on his as she spoke. "Tell me, Draven… do you perhaps recognize this name: Dravis Granger?"