The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

The Privy Chamber was a grand room, usually reserved for matters of state and intrigue.

Today, however, it was host to something far more perplexing.

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The walls, lined with tapestries depicting valorous deeds of old, seemed utterly at odds with the absurdity unfolding within.

Argider sat at the head of a long, ornately carved table, surrounded by a gaggle of women and children.

The women were murmuring among themselves, while the children fidgeted, some tugging at tablecloths and others munching on biscuits from a tray they weren’t technically supposed to touch.

Argider cleared her throat, attempting to command the room with all the gravitas of a seasoned monarch.

She had donned her finest attire for this occasion, a gown of deep blue velvet that somehow only made her feel more conspicuous.

Beneath her composed exterior, panic churned like a stormy sea.

How in the world had it come to this?

"Ladies," she began, her voice calm but loud enough to cut through the whispers, "and children. Thank you for joining me here today."

One of the women, a stern-faced blonde with arms crossed tightly over her chest, raised an eyebrow. "As if we had a choice," she muttered. Several others nodded in agreement.

"Fair point. But I assure you, this gathering is for a purpose far more noble than it may seem."

Another woman, a petite brunette cradling a toddler on her hip, piped up. "Is this about you finally explaining why we’re here? Or are you just going to keep us guessing?" The toddler promptly spat up on her shoulder, adding insult to injury.

Argider exhaled, steeling herself. This was the moment. The grand revelation that would undoubtedly change the lives of everyone in the room.

She stood, her chair scraping loudly against the polished floor, and placed her hands firmly on the table. "I’ve decided," she declared, "to take you all as my wives."

The chamber fell into stunned silence.

A goblet, previously teetering precariously at the edge of the table, chose this moment to clatter to the floor.

One of the older children, who had been attempting to balance a biscuit on his nose, stopped mid-act and stared, wide-eyed.

The stern-faced blonde broke the silence. "You what?"

"Take you all as my wives," Argider repeated, her voice steady but inwardly cringing. She saw the confusion ripple through the room like a wave.

Several women exchanged baffled looks, while a few of the younger ones blushed furiously, clearly misinterpreting her intent.

"But you’re a woman now," said the brunette, bouncing her still-drooling toddler. "How does that even work?"

"Ah, yes. A fair observation," Argider replied, pacing slightly now to avoid their bewildered gazes. "Let me clarify. When I say ’wives,’ I do not mean it in the, ah, conventional sense. I mean it in a… protective sense. A legal sense. A ’making sure you and your children are provided for and respected’ sense."

"So… not the marital bed sense?" asked a red-haired woman at the far end of the table, her tone laced with skepticism.

"Heavens, no! Absolutely not! I mean.. it depends," She paused, briefly regretting how much detail she’d shared. "What I mean is, I won’t force all of you into that."

"So why call it taking us as wives?" the blonde asked, still eyeing Argider as though she were a particularly suspicious stew.

Argider hesitated. "Because," she said finally, "it’s dramatic. And people listen when you’re dramatic." She gestured broadly, hoping to convey something. Anything. That might make sense. "Would you rather I called it ’becoming your benefactor and legal advocate’? That doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?"

"So, just to be clear," the brunette said, shifting the now-snoozing toddler to her other hip, "you’re not taking us as wives in the ’till death do us part’ way, but in the ’ensuring our children don’t starve’ way?"

"Exactly," Argider said, relieved that at least one person seemed to be grasping the concept.

The redhead frowned. "And what do we call you, then? If not husband or wife?"

"You can call me…" Argider trailed off, realizing she hadn’t thought this part through. "It depends on you"

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"How magnanimous of you," the blonde said dryly.

One of the younger women, who had been silent until now, raised her hand tentatively. "What happens if we don’t want to be your… whatever this is?"

"Then you’re free to go, of course. I’m not forcing anyone to stay. This offer is for those who want the security and resources I can provide. If you prefer to chart your own course, I’ll respect that."

The woman nodded, looking thoughtful.

"And what about the children?" another voice asked. "Are you… claiming them as yours?"

Argider hesitated. "In a manner of speaking, yes. But not in a possessive way. More in a… parental-support way. I’ll ensure they have opportunities, education, and a future." She looked around the room, her gaze lingering on the children. "They deserve that much, at least."

For a moment, there was silence again, but this time it was different.

The confusion was giving way to something else: cautious curiosity, perhaps even tentative approval.

The blonde uncrossed her arms, and the redhead’s frown softened.

Finally, the brunette broke the silence. "Well, I’ll say this much: you’ve got a strange way of going about things. But if it means my little one here doesn’t have to grow up worrying about where his next meal is coming from, I’ll take it."

"As will I," said the redhead, though she added with a wry smile, "but I reserve the right to tell this story at your expense someday."

"Fair enough," Argider said, smiling despite herself.

One by one, the women began nodding, some more enthusiastically than others.

The children, oblivious to the weight of the conversation, resumed their biscuit antics.

Argider sat back down, feeling a peculiar mix of exhaustion and relief.

She had no idea how this arrangement would work in practice, but at least for now, it seemed she had survived the chaos without causing a complete mutiny.