I Possessed The Immoral Empress

In a dimly lit room where hardly any sunlight penetrated, Ermond read the letters in his hand by the light of a dull lamp, his expression a complex mix of amusement and anger.

In his hands were two letters from Trivian.

“This has turned quite interesting,” he muttered.

One letter was from Henry, pleading for Ermond to cease the curse on Trivian as he intended to execute Ermedeline. The other was from Duke Batistian, offering assistance in capturing the capital by providing a magical circle he had placed around the city.

Ermond was already aware of Henry’s desperation, evidenced by his apology to the King of Frianton, but the letter from Duke Batistian was unexpected.

‘Isn’t his family famously loyal to the Emperor? Even if he’s angered by Ermedeline’s situation, would he really hand over the capital so easily?’

Of course, Ermond’s strategies were not limited to mere border skirmishes.

Unbeknownst to others, he was also meticulously planning to strike at the heart of the capital, the imperial palace, where Henry, the man who had stripped his father of his title and led him to his downfall, resided.

The magical circles drawn throughout the city by Duke Francoise before his death were already in place, prepared for cursing with chosen sacrifices and a sorcerer ready to enact the spell. Now, with the addition of Duke Batistian’s powerful magical circles, an even more formidable curse could be completed.

Ermond gestured to a man lurking in the shadows.

“Go and verify. Ensure the magical circles are indeed usable.”

The man nodded silently, showing his obedience, and quietly left Ermond’s quarters.

Ermond smirked wickedly and set fire to the corner of Henry’s letter.

As the paper slowly turned to ash, Ermond reminisced about the conversation he had had the day before.

“Apology… Apology, he says… Such a self-righteous man.”

King of Frianton had squinted his eyes and nodded in agreement.

“So self-righteous that he killed all his half-brothers to become Emperor.”

“Hmph, to think that such a man believes his apology could equate to the life of Yulia…”

A deeper shadow formed under the King of Frianton’s heavily lined eyes.

“That fool has been stupid and arrogant since before he was Emperor. To think that he could get away with abandoning my father and then trading Ermedeline’s life for peace… He remains naive even as Emperor.”

“Truly naive. Everyone knows the border is empty because he’s too busy keeping an eye on Leopold, yet he thinks such a deal will prevent a war.”

The King of Frianton then lit Henry’s letter with a candle flame.

Both of Henry’s letters ended up reduced to ashes in the hands of their recipients.

Meanwhile, the nobles Henry had forced to conscript troops were universally frustrated, regardless of their political faction.

They hadn’t contributed troops out of patriotism.

The nobles loyal to the Emperor had provided troops as part of a deal to cover up the assassination attempt at the orphanage completion ceremony, while the noble faction had offered theirs in relation to the assassination attempt at the palace linked to the Ilyenian Duke.

They all soon realized.

Henry was skillfully exploiting Ermedeline to his advantage.

Moreover, with the confirmation that the Amatheus Duchy, the family of the late emperor’s sister, was collaborating with Leopold, most nobles began to seriously consider whether it was time for a change of emperor.

Many nobles loyal to the emperor still supported Henry, whom they had established, and there were many who disliked Leopold as he was a foreigner.

However, as the firm beliefs of a few began to waver, the trend split into three factions.

The conservative nobles supporting Henry, the reformist nobles supporting Leopold, and the moderates who cast suspicious glances between the two men.

The situation was no different for the temples, which had established a unique force independent of the nobles.

Unlike Henry, the legitimacy of the High Priest of Noctavinus was absolute; although no movements had surfaced yet, the more conservative priests began to develop a distaste for the High Priest’s rather radical actions.

The High Priest had sent none other than a candidate for the next High Priest to the side of the witch.

Initially, the city priests thought Arvian was merely a watchdog for the witch, but they could not believe their eyes when they saw him save the witch during the orphanage’s completion ceremony.

It was unthinkable to save a witch who used filthy curse magic with sacred power.

While the priests residing in the Grand Temple still sent absolute support for Noctavinus’s decision, the city priests who despised Ermedeline even more began to suspect that Noctavinus was senile due to his old age.

Nobles and priests.

The two pillars and powers that had supported the mighty reign of the Trivian Empire.

These forces had now scattered according to their beliefs.

***

Finally, the construction of Valliere’s new home was completed.

It signified the complete end of her relationship with Henry.

Despite being full of lingering feelings for her first love due to her immature heart, Valliere, unable to be honest due to her pride, declared that she would leave the palace as soon as the construction was finished.

“Even though the construction is finished, there’s still a lot to sort out.”

Henry tried to maintain the decorum due his former lover, though his heart wasn’t in it, but Valliere was resolute.

“I no longer wish to stay. The furniture and belongings have been moved in, so I will move in today.”

Her expression was so confident that anyone seeing her might mistake her for leaving of her own accord, not being driven out.

“I see.”

“All family tiles and related documents have been transferred to Count Hallstein.”

With a bright smile that suggested she truly had no regrets, Valliere bid farewell to Henry.

“Then, this is goodbye.”

Henry, his heart tearing apart at the memory that flashed through his mind at her smile, nevertheless returned her smile brightly as he let her go.

“Yes.”

Valliere turned away with light steps from Henry’s office.

The sunlight settled on her once beloved auburn curly hair, creating warm and soft golden waves.

Those golden waves surged towards Henry’s soul, evoking a very old memory in him.

Neither his father nor his mother had much interest in their young son.

His father didn’t even care whether his son was alive or dead, and his mother, who had been keeping him, abandoned him as soon as she realized he was of no use to her.

Thus, the child ended up living in a tranquil barony governed by a distant relative of his mother.

The boy, with golden hair like the sun and clear blue eyes like the ocean, had a natural dignity befitting an emperor’s lineage, but to the servants of the barony, he was nothing more than just another mouth to feed.

Although the emperor did send some child support, it was hardly enough to cover even the food expenses.

It was far from sufficient for the care of an emperor’s child, especially since the boy’s mother had completely cut off contact.

Given these circumstances, the boy always tried to stay out of the adults’ sight, spending most of his time outside the castle walls.

Wearing clothes that had become too old and small, the boy roamed the fields and mountains to pass his time.

Although he sometimes felt lonely, having never received proper affection from either of his parents, he had grown accustomed to solitude.

Having realized the harsh reality that he was unwelcome anywhere, he chose to endure the cold and heat just to have some peace of mind.

That day was no different.

On a chilly early winter day, under a particularly beautiful clear blue sky, the wind was biting cold.

The boy kept pulling at the ends of his short sleeves to block the wind as he looked for a place to take shelter.

“Sniff, ah, it’s cold.”

He could have returned to the castle to escape the biting wind, but stubbornly, he headed to his secret fortress—an old, abandoned woodcutter’s shed.

The shed, left in disrepair and hardly a proper shelter from the wind and rain, had been turned into a fortress by the boy, who had spent months gathering fallen leaves and branches to make it habitable for himself.

Though reaching the shed deep in the forest required navigating through rough forest paths, the comfort he felt there made these paths seem like mere trails to him.

“I’m almost there!”

Finally, his fortress, his place of mental solace—the old shed—came into view.

To anyone else, it was just a crumbling building, but to the boy, who had nowhere else to turn, that place offered emotional comfort simply by its existence.

“Ah, it’s cold, so cold. I need to make the fortress stronger soon.”

Muttering to himself, a habit he had now fully developed, the boy lifted the old cloth that covered his fortress.

“Who are you?”

Expecting to find solace from the cold in his cozy fortress, the boy frowned upon seeing an uninvited guest inside.

“Hehe, is this your house?”

“What?”

To think of this old shed as a house was an affront to his pride.

Despite wearing old and small clothes, the clothes he wore were essentially well-tailored luxury garments.

He was definitely not a ragamuffin to be mistaken for someone who lived in such a place.

“Who lives in a place like this? This is my fortress, my fortress!”

“A fortress?”

“Yes. My own secret hideout! But who are you, and how did you find this place?”

The boy scrutinized the uninvited guest who had taken over his fortress, furrowing his brow.

The intruder, appearing even younger than himself at nine years old, had lush auburn hair that would surely be soft to touch and light brown eyes.

“My name is Valliere.”

The guest answered with an innocent smile, possessing a rather pretty face, but the boy was more concerned with something other than her smile.

It was the bruises visible between the tattered sleeves of her clothes.

“I’m Henry.”

“Henry?”

“Yes.”

“I see. So this is Henry’s secret hideout.”

The small intruder nodded, practicing the pronunciation of ‘Henry.’

Henry, now identified, crouched in front of the guest who had introduced herself as Valliere, peering into her face.

Her little face was covered with bruises so dense that the skin underneath was almost invisible.

Moreover, there was a fresh trace of a nosebleed not yet dried under her nose.

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

“What?”

“I mean, because of the bloodstain and bruises.”

The small guest saw the concern in Henry’s eyes and responded with an innocent smile and a clearly visible lie.

“No, I’m not hurt at all.”

Facing that bright smile, Henry suddenly felt an urge to cry.

The sight of that smile made him think that the bruises could have been caused by someone hitting her.

With a compassionate expression, Henry took out a faded handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped under the small guest’s nose.

“Hehe. Henry, you are kind.”

The small guest looked up at him again with a naive smile on her bruised face.

That smile, that pure white smile on a bruised face.

In that moment, Henry felt a strong desire to protect this little intruder so that she would never have to suffer harm from anyone again.

It was the moment Henry transitioned from being just a boy to becoming a young man.