I Possessed The Immoral Empress

In winter, it is common for the animals of the mountain, deprived of food, to descend to the villages in search of sustenance. Yet, this place was the most prosperous castle in the Brunnian Region.

Leopold, who had thought it impossible for a wild beast to appear in such a place, regretted his complacency as he reached for his waist, only to find nothing there.

He had left his sword behind due to Langen’s nagging about who would bring a scabbard to a ball.

Looking around, the situation worsened as it was so secluded that not even the guards who were supposed to protect the garden were in sight.

‘This is all your fault! I knew it! If I die here at the claws of this beast, it’s all on you!’

In desperation, Leopold began to search for a dagger within his clothing, and it seemed the dark mass had noticed him too, as it slowly began to rise.

Leopold, trying to appear larger to the wild beast, waved his dagger in the air with all his might.

‘Damn it! Damn it! I don’t want to die fighting a wild animal in a place like this! It looks like a bear…’

Leopold braced himself for the fight.

“Aaaaah!”

At that moment, Leopold could see the form of the black mass coming out from the shadows under the moonlight.

It was not a beast.

It was a woman with eyes colder than the chill night wind.

The woman, upon seeing Leopold scream and draw his dagger, tilted her head slightly, observing him without expression.

Leopold couldn’t see her clearly from the shadows, but the piercing amethyst eyes felt eerily unsettling.

Leopold would later learn that Ermedeline was contemplating which curse to use on the man before her.

“Ah, that… I thought you were, that, a wild animal.”

Embarrassed by the woman’s cold gaze, Leopold sheepishly put away his dagger and made a clumsy excuse.

Ermedeline, seemingly uninterested in hearing more, slightly pouted her lips and then stepped forward towards Leopold.

Step, step, step.

The woman was tall for her gender, yet excessively thin.

Perhaps because of this, her footsteps were barely audible.

In the moment Ermedeline walked out from the dark shadows into the bright moonlight,

Leopold knew he would never forget this sight.

Those cool features and mysterious amethyst eyes passed him by, ignoring him completely, and disappeared to the other side of the garden.

She was like a secret darkness, no, a cold and ruthless winter.

Even the white breath from her lips quickly lost its warmth and vanished into the air.

Only when Ermedeline’s figure was no longer visible did Leopold manage to snap back to reality, barely recovering from the intense cold that had penetrated his lungs.

‘Who was she? She didn’t seem like a servant. Why have I never seen her before?’

As if bewitched by a witch, Leopold began to wander around the Francoise Duchy’s castle like a madman, searching for traces of the woman.

She appeared at neither the banquet, the ball, nor the late afternoon tea parties. It took another week for Leopold to finally learn her identity.

“Hurry, hurry!”

A maid, looking anxious, hurried a balding middle-aged man along.

“It could become a serious problem for the young lady! Hurry!”

‘Young lady?’

Having stayed at the Francoise Duchy’s castle for nearly two weeks, Leopold had never heard mention of a daughter and felt something suspicious in their conversation.

“Oh, come on. I’m running as fast as I can!”

The maid and the middle-aged man ran at full speed until they arrived in front of a large wooden door at the end of the corridor on the third floor, the most secluded area.

‘A young lady’s bedroom here?’

The third floor was meant for the servants, a stark contrast to the luxurious and comfortable second floor, and thus a place Leopold hadn’t thought to explore.

“Young lady!”

The maid opened the large wooden door with tremendous force, pushing the middle-aged man inside.

“Please, come to your senses! Please!”

They were in such a hurry that they didn’t think to close the door, allowing Leopold to stealthily peek through the gap.

‘It’s her!’

Although obstructed by the maid and the man, who appeared to be a physician, it seemed the lady was in pain.

The maid was frantically pacing, and the physician hurriedly took out his medical tools.

‘Is she seriously ill? Who is this young lady? There’s no daughter in the family portrait in the hall.’

Leopold felt increasingly suspicious and moved closer to the door.

“What kind of poison is it this time?”

“I don’t know. I wonder where she keeps finding these poisons. Even if she has built up immunity, this could really end badly for the young lady!”

“Her breathing is too unstable. The potency of the poisons she’s using seems to be increasing.”

The middle-aged man wiped the sweat from his forehead in desperation and slumped into a chair beside the bed.

“How can a father do such a thing? Who would do this to their own daughter? That damned curse or whatever it is, it must really be a curse.”

The maid, visibly upset, sighed deeply and lifted her apron as if to wipe the sweat from the lady referred to as the young lady.

‘A curse? She must indeed be the daughter of the Duke of Francoise. After all, she resembles him so much. She looks even more like Ermond, especially those amethyst eyes.’

As Leopold compared the face of the lady in the garden with that of the Duke of Francoise, confirming their familial relationship, someone approached the lady’s bedroom.

‘Damn.’

Not wanting to be caught spying on the young lady’s bedroom, Leopold reluctantly left with only his questions partially resolved.

“Yes. It’s his daughter. Was her name Ermedeline?”

Leopold’s cautious question was met with Langen’s overly straightforward confirmation of the lady’s identity and name.

“His daughter, you say?”

“Yes. It’s not a secret. It’s stranger that you, a prince, did not know until now.”

Not a secret, yet she had never shown her face at any event, and was even absent from the family portrait.

Leopold could not quite accept the situation.

“People tend to avoid her, and because of whatever experiment or torture the Duke of Francoise is doing, she’s hardly ever in a good state.”

“What?”

“You mentioned poison earlier. Apparently, he tests new curses or poisons on his own daughter. She has survived death so many times that it’s not even a secret anymore. Everyone working here knows about it.”

“What?”

Leopold had plenty of opportunities to speak with the Duke of Francoise, Ermond, and the visiting noble ladies and gentlemen, but he had little interaction with the servants.

Realizing the answer had been so close yet he had been chasing shadows for a week, Leopold couldn’t help but laugh at his own folly.

“You really can be quite clueless sometimes, prince. You should start your inquiries with those who serve the household. The masters may not speak, but their servants are relatively more talkative.”

Langen shook his head side to side, almost mockingly lifting his chin.

“Fine, you’re smarter than me. But if you knew, you should have told me sooner. Why keep silent?”

Langen huffed in frustration, as if offended by Leopold’s question.

“How could I tell you something you never asked about? Whether in Ballius or on the merchant ships, you were never one to stay put. I thought you were off exploring the castle all day because of your wandering ways.”

“Ugh.”

Langen wasn’t wrong.

Yet, Leopold was frustrated at having wasted a week.

Out of annoyance, he carelessly threw his gloves to the floor and sighed deeply.

“But what about that lady?”

“About a week ago, I encountered her in the garden. I mistook her for a wild animal and screamed while swinging a dagger.”

“What?”

“It was dark, and I couldn’t see anything. Plus, her dress was black, so she looked just like a bear.”

“So, you screamed and swung a knife at a woman you saw for the first time?”

“Yeah.”

Langen laughed heartily, though without making much noise, his breath rough as he chuckled at Leopold sitting dumbfounded.

“Can you imagine how absurd that was? Walking in her own garden and some unknown man starts screaming and swinging a knife. You didn’t pee yourself, did you? Ahahaha.”

Langen found his own comment hilariously funny, laughing out loud this time.

“I did not! Do you know how panicked I was because I left my scabbard behind because of you?”

“Panicked? You should be thanking me. If you had actually drawn a real sword from that scabbard and swung it… Oh… Thank the gods no one witnessed that spectacle. Truly, it’s divine grace!”

Langen, who usually showed little piety, suddenly looked up to the sky with a devout expression, raising his hands.

“Ah, I know. I’m aware of how foolish I acted. That’s why I was looking for her, to apologize.”

After all, an excuse is easy to come up with.

Isn’t it more plausible to say he wanted to offer a gentlemanly apology rather than admitting he desperately wanted to see those mysterious amethyst eyes again?

Leopold was pleased to finally learn the identity of the lady, but he was concerned about her condition.

“So, about these experiments. What do you mean by that? You said she was nearly out of breath earlier. Does this happen often?”

Langen sighed and clicked his tongue in response to Leopold’s question.

“The Duke really despises his daughter.”

“Why? She’s his daughter. Why would he hate his own child?”

Leopold, though never a parent himself, believed it was common sense for parents to love their children.

“It’s because of her eyes.”

“Her eyes? What about them? They’re the exact same color as the Duke’s.”

“Yes, that’s precisely the issue.”

“Huh? How is a child resembling their parent a problem?”

“Yes, it is. Those Merciful Eyes, they’re not just ordinary eyes.”

“Then what? Do they shoot fire or something?”

Langen thought he should secretly burn all the fantasy books his master had hidden away as he shook his head at Leopold’s question.

“Aren’t your golden eyes considered proof of your direct lineage to the Ballius Empire’s royal family?”

“Well, yes. But it’s just eye color. It’s not like you can become the emperor because of your eye color.”

“True. But the eyes of this family are different.”

“How so?”

“You know the Francoise Duchy is famous for curse magic, right?”

Leopold frowned as if asking why Langen would even question something so obvious.

“Of course, I know. Do you know how hard I try not to upset that arrogant Ermond?”

“Indeed. You did seem rather servile.”

Leopold grimaced and looked away, displeased by Langen’s observation.

“I’d rather be servile than cursed to death in a foreign land.”

“Exactly. Better to be servile than dead.”

“Alright, but what does that magic have to do with her eyes?”

Leopold, avoiding Langen’s disdainful gaze, shifted the conversation with a question.

“Those eyes are the mark of the legitimate heir to that curse magic.”