Gisella

Muller admits to impregnating the youngest daughter.

"Viscount Muller, are you by any chance, an idiot?"

"Why do you ask about this?"

You palm your face. "I believe no one else found out about this?"

"No,"

"That explains why you have yet to be castrated. Look, Honorable Viscount, not only you will make an enemy of your wife, but also the second daughter at the very least, even if we take away the mother,"

"Why would Ingrid be angry?"

"Because you ignored her but instead slept with her younger sister,"

"I fail to see the significance,"

"By sleeping with Gisella, you're implying that Ingrid isn't attractive enough,"

"That's not the case," Muller protests.

"Then why do you start an affair with Gisella?"

"Because I love her,"

"What part of her you love?"

"Her beautiful hair, face. When she smiles..." Muller begins dreamily.

You interrupt Muller by throw a paperweight to the door, missing his face by few inches. "That's exactly why I asked whether you're an idiot or not. You've just proven that I'm right," you say while mentally counting one to ten in order to calm yourself. To think that this person has been causing troubles to you in the palace meetings. If you let an idiot like him run around without solving his problem, the problem will bound to become bigger and will start to affect you as well. Better you nip it now than later. "I will help you, but you will owe me for this debt,"

"Understood," Muller says meekly.

"Deitrich!" you call your trusty attendant.

A few seconds later the man enters. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Prepare the Royal Coach immediately. I'm going to Lord Muller's territory for inspection today,"