I Possessed The Immoral Empress

No one knew how far a woman who had lost something precious could fall into depravity.

Ermedeline, subjected to torture and experiments since her childhood, had been driven to the brink of suicide. To her, Leopold had become more precious than her own life, which seemed insignificant by comparison. That’s why she had driven him away with words she didn’t mean.

Two days after their last meeting in the stable, Leopold left the Francoise Marquessate without a word of farewell. Duke Francoise appeared momentarily disconcerted by Leopold’s sudden disappearance but quickly lost interest.

“If he left on his own, it’s for the best.”

After all, Ermedeline had unexpectedly agreed to cooperate with his plans, which he had thought would require much persuasion. Her only condition was the safe birth of her child.

Duke Francoise was initially furious upon hearing this but eventually accepted his daughter’s deal, seeing her first-ever attachment to something.

“As long as you cooperate, I will ensure the child lacks nothing.”

Ermedeline didn’t trust her father’s words but nodded, knowing that playing the obedient daughter was her best chance of survival for her and her child. Yet, she never revealed the father’s identity, despite Duke Francoise’s probing, which he eventually ceased, perhaps conceiving some plan of his own.

The deal with Henry was horrific than she had anticipated. Ermedeline had only assisted in creating powerful cursed poisons or magical circles in the dungeon, but the frequency of these tasks was alarmingly high.

‘Was he planning to kill his half-brothers? To so easily murder his own siblings?’

Although a powerful user of curse magic, Ermedeline, who had never directly killed anyone before, was disturbed by the use of her magic in such fratricidal acts. Yet, she did not care much, for in her desolate life, nothing mattered except for Leopold and the child she was carrying.

At that time, Ermedeline valued their well-being far above her own life.

When her pregnancy became visibly apparent, Duke Francoise summoned her to the stable.

‘The stable? Has father finally figured out our relationship?’

In the dead of night, avoiding the gaze of the servants, Ermedeline headed to the stable, hoping that Leopold had safely escaped far away. Contrary to her expectations, what she found there was the young son of the stablekeeper, dead.

“I heard you’ve been frequenting this place at dawn.”

The duke looked coldly between his daughter and the corpse, kicking the dead stablekeeper’s son’s face as if touching something filthy.

“To choose something like this. If you were that desperate, you should have just told me. I would have chosen someone suitable for you.”

His insinuation that she had “been desperate” misunderstood the nature of her relationship with Leopold. The night she spent with Leopold wasn’t about physical desire but a profound connection they shared, far removed from the sordid implications her father

As for Leopold, so too for Ermedeline, that night was an affirmation of her entire life being wagered on him.

However, it was not the place to discuss such matters.

Ermedeline felt a terrible feeling upon seeing the corpse of the young man, but chose to remain silent.

The more the Duke was under a misunderstanding, the quicker it would be to forget the existence named Leopold.

Months passed in such a manner.

Due to her gradually swelling belly, Ermedeline found herself unable to enjoy her once-frequent nocturnal strolls.

During the day, she was mobilized to complete the terrible curse, and at night, she fought against the waves of loneliness that ceaselessly tried to drown her in solitude, enduring monotonous and dreadful days.

The one good thing was that, being pregnant, the Duke of Francoise no longer forced Ermedeline into further experiments.

Of course, the Duke of Francoise was not at all concerned about the stableman’s bastard child in Ermedeline’s womb.

He simply did not want the tool for his daughter’s obedient compliance to be damaged.

Ermedeline was well aware of this fact.

Therefore, she complied with her father as much as possible.

She wanted to protect the child in her womb at all costs.

She felt as if she could not feel any emotion.

Ermedeline thought of herself as a dead, rotting tree that had been hollowed out.

But that was a misconception.

The moment his breath was added to those empty spaces, signs of spring, green shoots, began to appear on her parched branches.

Ermedeline was amazed that such colors, such emotions, existed within her.

She thought she could sprout, bloom, and bear fruit for him.

But now he was gone.

The red gaze that she secretly smiled at whenever it fleetingly crossed her mind, and his scent that left a lasting impression long after he was gone, were now absent.

The only trace of Leopold she could feel was the child in her womb.

Even though it was filled with terrible curse magic, the days when the child, carrying half of his traces, grew inside her were days of longing and joy for her, who had been a mother.

The tragedy occurred that day.

Early in the morning, Ermedeline’s water broke.

The birthing room was modestly set up in the laboratory underground, in anticipation of any screams.

There were only the physician of the Francoise Duchy and one maid present.

Not even her father or brother, let alone her mother, were there to witness her giving birth to a bastard child.

She felt lonely.

The excruciating pain of bearing this without Leopold, more than any curse experiment or the aftermath of poison, tormented Ermedeline.

But at the same time, she was happy.

The moment when the child, who had only existed as kicks and heartbeats, was actually about to be born into this world.

As time passed, it was late at night.

Ermedeline, in her first childbirth, was on the verge of exhaustion due to labor and bleeding when she finally gave birth to a son.

A short while later, the Duke of Francoise, who had not visited the birthing room even once during the long hours of suffering, appeared.

“What is the sex?”

“It’s a son.”

“And that?”

At the Duke’s question, the physician silently extended the grandson towards the Duke.

The Duke avoided touching the baby’s body as if it were some kind of filth, focusing only on one thing.

“It has Merciful Eyes.”

Both Ermedeline, who had secretly hoped for a daughter, and the Duke sighed deeply at the same time.

Ermedeline despaired for a moment.

What kind of abuse had she, a daughter with Merciful Eyes, suffered?

Now that her bastard daughter had Merciful Eyes, who knew what the devilish father would do?

However, contrary to expectations, the Duke of Francoise’s reaction was merely a deep sigh.

He did not rage or burst into anger.

After confirming what he needed to, he left his daughter’s birthing room without any hesitation.

‘As long as Ermedeline has Merciful Eyes, Ermond cannot produce a legitimate heir. This child can be raised merely as a tool for Ermond, a seed bearer.’

Surprised by the unexpectedly calm reaction, Ermedeline was relieved for the moment, as her father’s attitude did not seem to indicate that he intended to kill his grandson right away.

With great effort, Ermedeline lifted herself to look at her son’s face, cradled in the arms of the maid.

The small child had black hair and Merciful Eyes like herself, but his bright and sharp features closely resembled Leopold’s.

A true testament of love, blending both herself and her beloved.

All those times of suffering were worth enduring.

There were moments when she cursed the gods, questioning why she had to be born into this place and endure all this pain, but at this moment, she knew the reason for every moment she had lived and been born.

It was all to meet this child.

Regrettably, this moment became the last time Ermedeline possessed a human heart.

After giving birth, Ermedeline barely managed to recover and went to her father to discuss how to raise the child.

And there, Ermedeline heard a devastating lie that would change her values, soul, and the rest of her life completely.

“Prince Leopold is dead.”

“!!”

“Ah, yes. He’s certainly dead. Did you come here to confirm that?”

Stunned by the news, Ermedeline stopped trying to enter her father’s office and leaned against the wall.

“You’re doing this because he could have been the most powerful competitor, aren’t you?”

It seemed to be one of Henry’s subordinates who had come.

“He seemed like a pathetic guy without ambition or anything.”

“Regardless of the circumstances, I must confirm his death. Are you sure he hasn’t left Brunnian alive?”

“That’s right. He and his offspring were killed by a curse magic while trying to flee on horseback. It’s a shame that everything rotted away, leaving no evidence.”

“!!”

Overhearing the conversation behind the door, Ermedeline bit down hard on her teeth to prevent herself from screaming.

She couldn’t remember how she managed to return to her own bedroom.

She locked the door of her bedroom and slumped down against it.

This must be what it feels like to have one’s heart torn to shreds.

The immense pain emanating from her chest made it difficult for Ermedeline to breathe.

‘Dead? He’s dead? Is he really dead?’

Tears of clear blood streamed endlessly from Ermedeline’s eyes, who couldn’t even scream as she wished.

‘He’s not in this world anymore? He doesn’t exist anywhere in this world?’

Trying so hard to stifle her sobs that her head started to ache from biting down so hard on her teeth.

‘Why? Why! Why did he die! Why!’

She couldn’t believe it.

She had helped him escape ten months ago.

Having heard nothing from him since, she had assumed he had simply returned to his adventures somewhere before they met.

But to think he was already dead.

After the deep sorrow that completely engulfed her soul passed, a tremendous storm of anger swept over her.

‘Why give me these Merciful Eyes, leading me to such a life, only to let him die like this! Why make me know him and then take him away! Why?’

‘The gods who oversee Trivian? Care? For whom? They must be gods who delight in watching humans suffer under a fate of tragedy!’

The vicious whirlwind of emotions that left her unable to even hold herself together thoroughly ravaged Ermedeline’s soul before dying down.

The only thing left in her emptied soul was a desire for revenge.

Ermedeline had nothing left to fear.

Every time she thought of him, the warm blood that once boiled hotly within her now turned cold and dark red.

She made a plan.

A perfect plan for revenge against not only the Francoise Duchy, which had abused her, but also against Henry, who had ordered his death, and the gods of Trivian who had failed to protect him.

‘I will complete it! I must complete it! Oh? The providence of the gods? I will prove it! I’ll show how malicious and powerless that providence really is!’

Ermedeline possessed a naturally brilliant mind and magical talent.

Moreover, her soul, which had been gradually crumbling without her even realizing due to constant abuse.

Right before choosing death, meeting Leopold had barely kept her semblance of humanity intact, but now her soul had completely vanished.

It was the moment of the birth of the witch Ermedeline.