I Possessed The Immoral Empress

Henry crossed the corridor and boarded the carriage, unsure of what was going through his mind.

Though he lacked Arvian’s ability to see souls, he witnessed the exact same scene—a disheartening transformation of someone he once loved dearly into a completely different person.

He had handed a note to the Duke of Francoise, a precautionary measure, but Henry hadn’t taken the matter too seriously. After all, the subject was that witch, Ermedeline, and it wasn’t a direct act of harm. Valliere had merely sent over the blueprint of the orphanage, and the handling of the maid was the Duke’s responsibility.

Then there was the murder on the National Wedding Anniversary. Henry was indeed shocked by the incident, but he was more surprised that such a tender-hearted woman could do such a thing, rather than taking it seriously. The woman who died had threatened another carrying the Emperor’s child.

Henry had thought that Valliere, cornered, had acted in self-defense to protect the child.

But today was different. It wasn’t just about sending blueprints to incite someone or impulsively defending a child.

She had hidden the earrings herself and deliberately inflicted wounds on her body, with a clear intent to kill someone.

Knowing that the maids hadn’t stolen the earrings, Henry could only see Valliere’s injuries as self-inflicted.

Valliere might have thought her performance was convincing, but anyone, even without knowing the full story, with experience in combat could tell that the wounds were self-inflicted.

Henry felt a momentary mental numbness. Despite Valliere’s fall from grace, he had never imagined she would stoop to self-harming to this extent to kill someone.

Watching her move further into darkness was painful, but the thought of her completely disappearing from his life seemed unbearable.

Thus, despite numerous conflicts, he couldn’t bring himself to cut her off, merely observing as she descended further into corruption.

‘Should I have been kinder when she said she was pregnant?’

‘Should I have shared her grief instead of confining her when she lost the baby?’

But no matter how much he pondered, there was no way to turn back time. Being kind now wouldn’t change Valliere, who had become even darker than Ermedeline, back to her former self.

‘Ah, it seems all women who cross my path turn into witches.’

Henry let out a self-mocking smile as he looked down at the garden.

The imperial garden, about to welcome the full bloom of summer, was lush with vibrant greens. Any dreamy girl looking at this scene might imagine that a place so picturesque must be home to people just as beautiful.

Yet, the residents of this picturesque home were two witches and himself, the one who had turned them into such.

“Ha.”

A deep sigh escaped Henry’s lips, one he hadn’t intended, as he contemplated the stark contrast between the beauty of the surroundings and the grim reality of their inhabitants.

The place he had once longed for, the place he had wanted to make his own, had now turned into a horrific place where a man creates witches and lives with them.

Even though Henry and Ermedeline had never been particularly close, the consecutive events had led them to maintain silence throughout the carriage ride. The atmosphere was so heavy that even the coachman outside felt as if gravity had intensified.

From the moment the word “dethronement” was mentioned, Ermedeline had wanted to avoid Henry as much as possible. She had shown her hand too easily in her desperate attempt to save Ferdant, making her feel vulnerable.

So, Ermedeline worried about what she might hear when alone with him today, but Henry, preoccupied with Valliere’s incident, remained silent until the carriage stopped.

The oppressive journey finally ended as the carriage door opened. Ermedeline nearly fled from the carriage, gasping for air.

“Your Majesty! A lot of people have gathered!” Rooney whispered to Ermedeline, standing by her side.

Lifting her head at his voice, Ermedeline saw the masses surrounding the orphanage and the numerous guards on vigilant duty.

“So many have indeed gathered,” Ermedeline said, managing a faint smile and bowing her head.

Until the orphanage’s groundbreaking ceremony, she hadn’t noticed the hate directed at her because she was despised everywhere she went. But today, she realized how different the atmosphere was compared to the day they celebrated the end of the epidemic.

Though no one dared speak openly due to the surrounding guards, Ermedeline could see in their eyes that the witch had been resurrected.

Even though she was prepared, the shift in people’s perception in just a few weeks made Ermedeline wish she could flee somewhere immediately. She regretted rejecting Felio’s suggestion to face such pointed criticism.

Then, Ermedeline spotted Felio at the site, already present for the completion ceremony preparations. Like the day he had set a trap for the Duke of Francoise, he was directing the site with an unwavering attitude, unchanged by the shift in people’s attitudes.

“Heaving, heaving…”

The realization that something unmovable exists even in a world filled with turmoil is incredibly reassuring. Perhaps this is why people cling to religion.

Ermedeline finally caught her breath, feeling slightly relieved compared to moments ago. Although she couldn’t flee to the countryside as he had suggested, he became an island where she could catch her breath in a sea of hate.

A small island in a stormy sea, she had managed to catch her breath, but still, the terrifying waves threatened to engulf her.

“Lift your head. This is the orphanage Your Majesty has completed,” Rooney said, holding Ermedeline’s hand with a gaze too firm and weighted to belong to a mere child.

And in that moment, a small but sturdy tree rapidly grew on that little island, allowing Ermedeline to stand supported by it.

“Yes. That’s how it should be.”

Ermedeline nodded slightly at Rooney and took a confident step forward.

Felio had been waiting.

The stage was now set.

The magic circles that had been secretly installed around the orphanage in the days leading up.

Felio was aware of the suspicious activities but had deliberately not reacted.

It was the only way to lure out Ermond, who was hiding in an enemy country.

Even if they couldn’t capture Ermond, the moment the magic was activated, the people gathered here would realize.

They would know that the traitor truly intended to kill Ermedeline.

However, as important as it was to clear Ermedeline’s name, it couldn’t be exchanged for her safety.

Felio had secretly inscribed his own magic circles over the curse circles.

So he would be instantly aware the moment the magic was activated.

When that moment came, Felio planned to envelop Ermedeline with his own magical power and Arvian’s divine abilities.

Felio idly toyed with the ring of the Francoise Duchy he kept hidden in his pocket.

Fortunately, Ermedeline seemed unaware that the ring had disappeared from her possession.

This ring, secretly taken through Rooney, was an insurance policy.

If his magic and Arvian’s divine power were insufficient to protect Ermedeline, the ring would serve to redirect the curse’s target towards himself.

As expected, the ring, imbued with generations of the Francoise family’s magical power, would be useful in disrupting the curse’s target.

Felio glanced over to Ermedeline, standing with a composed face amidst the crowd.

He was sure that had Ermedeline known of this plan, she would have vehemently opposed the idea of using herself, who was resistant to curses, as bait.

Felio knew by now that Ermedeline, though seemingly calm, had a fiery temper and wasn’t afraid to raise her voice when angry.

Logically, Ermedeline’s argument made sense.

If someone had to face a dangerous curse, it should naturally be Ermedeline, the continent’s most potent curse mage with built-in resistance due to torture.

But Felio couldn’t bear the thought of any harm coming to Ermedeline.

After all, if she were to die, his heart would refuse to beat any longer.

Then, it would be better for him to face the consequences.

Though he was concerned about what would follow, wasn’t Arvian there?

Felio had secretly felt a terrible jealousy towards the close relationship between the two but had borne it solely for this moment.

In case something happened to him leaving Ermedeline behind, he wanted to ensure she wouldn’t be too lonely.

To ensure she had a steadfast companion on her lonely, thorny path.

And if that companion could be a candidate for High Priest, all the better.

Felio had never entertained the fanciful thought of being anything more to Ermedeline.

His purpose was simple and firm.

Protecting Ermedeline, no matter the cost, was his unwavering goal.

The empire had been ravaged by a pandemic that left orphanages overflowing with children.

Among them, the youngest and most vulnerable, drawn from the most dilapidated facilities, now stood before Henry and Ermedeline, their faces etched with a solemn resolve. Barely four or five years old, these small, thin children carried a vague sense of unease.

Seeing them, Ermedeline was momentarily reminded of her own past. Despite her efforts to remain composed, confronting these memories inevitably shook her.

It was a project started with the intent to survive. Being an orphan herself, that’s why she first thought of building an orphanage.

Was it started with the shallow hope of avoiding execution by making a significant contribution to ending the pandemic and building the orphanage?

But now, as she stood in front of the completed orphanage, facing her past, she was overwhelmed by a storm of emotions.

Ermedeline looked down at the children with a complex expression, neither crying nor smiling.

Facing her past in this strange world, Ermedeline didn’t know how to react.

She despised being called an orphan.

How much had she struggled in her previous life to shed that label, to not hear that wearying word?

And that desperate struggle continued even now.

Perhaps, deep down, she took pleasure in transforming from an orphan dependent on strangers’ charity to someone who could actually build an orphanage.

Maybe she thought spending lavishly on building orphanages, sewer systems, and aiding the poor could remove the label of orphan.

Beneath the shallow motive of wanting to live and shed the label of a witch, there was a deeper, sadder motive.

Ermedeline suddenly turned to Arvian, who stood by her side, and whispered something.

“Is my soul still white?”

“Yes.”

Arvian, without asking the reason behind such a peculiar question, simply nodded in affirmation.

“I see.”

With Arvian’s confirmation, Ermedeline smiled faintly. Felio’s brows furrowed slightly at the sight, but Ermedeline wasn’t in a position to notice such things.

Finally, Ermedeline slowly raised her hand and gently caressed the hair of her past self looking up at her with innocent eyes.

The past she never wished to confront again had a hair texture that was both dear and sorrowful.