I Possessed The Immoral Empress

Chapter 37

I Possessed The Immoral Empress - Chapter 37

‘Chills, high fever, vomiting.’

‘Diarrhea, cough with blood, loss of consciousness.’

These painful symptoms, along with dates, were written next to Ermedeline’s name.

The handwriting at first was not Ermedeline’s but changed to her own at the age of seventeen.

It seemed that someone other than Ermedeline had been recording this journal until then.

Feeling an unpleasant flutter in her heart, as she read through the journal, it became evident that, as expected, it was her father who had administered the poison to young Ermedeline.

‘So that’s why she survived being stabbed with a poisoned dagger.’

What a truly cruel household.

One might consider that they trained their daughter from a young age to avoid any chance of assassination due to their many enemies. However, from my experience, Duke de Françoise is not that kind of person.

Since he couldn’t administer poison to a son who would inherit the family, he experimented on his defenseless young daughter instead.

In reality, the severe symptoms were recorded with steady handwriting and a dry tone that seemed to reflect no emotional fluctuations.

‘Such a miserable childhood, although it doesn’t completely justify her wicked deeds, is still truly pitiful.’

A hidden son, mistreatment from family members, and the question of why a woman with noble status, a dazzling appearance, and even magical talent would go astray—all seemed to have a reason now.@@@@

‘Could there have been some circumstances I’m unaware of concerning Valliere?’

She made up her mind to stop thinking about it, but Ermedeline couldn’t help but be preoccupied with her.

She found herself wanting to give the now twenty-year-old woman inside Valliere another chance.

Ermedeline had felt a slight headache as a result of the aftermath of their reunion with the densely packed letters.

So, before dinner, she decided to take a stroll through the garden where the slanting, feeble sunlight was casting its final rays.

While walking alongside Rooney, she saw Valliere appear from around a corner.

There’s only one path, and there’s nowhere to turn back.

Since they were meeting, Ermedeline decided to congratulate Valliere on the approval of her Foundation Day event proposal.

“Your proposal was approved. Congratulations!”

Even though she was the Empress, Ermedeline spoke first, but Valliere didn’t even offer a casual acknowledgment.

In truth, Ermedeline herself didn’t care whether Valliere greeted her or not, but this insolent behavior was witnessed by Rooney, Valliere’s maids, and the garden guards standing nearby.

‘Oh, if only she’d behave a bit smarter,’ Ermedeline thought.

She couldn’t help but pity Valliere, who couldn’t adapt to her new status and seemed to continuously undermine her own reputation.

However, Ermedeline had decided to maintain her dignity regardless of the other person’s rudeness.

“Opening up culture to the people is a splendid idea. Everyone must be delighted...”

“Yes, my proposal is meant to bring joy to everyone. But, Your Majesty, didn’t you make a rather bizarre proposal?”

“Bizarre?”

“Improving sewage systems and water rescue projects are one thing, but masks? It’s not just about covering your eyes, but your nose and mouth too, isn’t it?”

Is she serious?

Other people could openly voice their opinions, but Valliere couldn’t afford to do the same.

Isn’t at least one of them familiar with basic infection knowledge in modern times?

Valliere, sensing Ermedeline’s incredulous expression, muttered under her breath.

“Why not just force the common people to wear them? Why insist on the nobility, too?”

“Because we don’t know who’s infected. Isn’t that common sense?”

“There’s no way I could be infected in the palace, right? It’s just that I don’t want to stand in front of the people wearing a mask by your side, isn’t it?”

“Ah...”

But that thin guilt was deep and strong enough to bind Félio’s hands tightly.

While Félio struggled between guilt and joy, Ermedeline was becoming increasingly distant from the applause that filled her ears.

Even though she had possessed the body of the Empress, Ermedeline had not fully grasped her position until now.

It was understandable since, despite living in the palace and enjoying fine clothes, delicious food, and the service of maids, she had limited influence as the antagonist in the story. Besides surviving, she hadn’t really thought about doing much else.

Of course, she had felt compassion for the suffering people afflicted by the epidemic, but she hadn’t thought about taking a more active role.

The idea for these masks had come from her just as a common-sense citizen of South Korea, and as someone who knew that she was the original perpetrator of the events, she had suggested it out of a sense of unease.

Her husband, the Emperor, ignored her, and her father, the Duke, wanted to kill her. The maids treated her as an enemy, and most of the people saw her as a witch.

Until now, no matter where she went or who she met, it had been difficult for her to truly feel that she had taken over the body of an Empress.

Rooney and Félio were individuals she felt grateful to personally, and that made it even more real.

However, in this modest shop that Félio had rented, which seemed to be a tavern, Ermedeline finally felt the reality of being the Empress of the Trivian Empire for the first time.

Because she had been oblivious, the applause of the craftsmen made her feel awkward, and her face flushed.

At the same time, an indistinct but unsettling sensation began to churn in her heart, making it difficult to define precisely.

She had always lived a life of resignation.

As an orphan, she knew very well that there were things she couldn’t have, things she couldn’t do, no matter how much she wished for them.

But not anymore.

She now possessed immense wealth and the formidable power of being the Empress.

She might be a half-hearted Empress who didn’t have the Emperor’s favor, but she now had the power and wealth to turn her thoughts into reality.

‘Yes, I can change things. I can’t undo what I’ve done in the past, but I can certainly try to make amends.’

Overcoming her embarrassment and lifting her head, she saw some people applauding with bright smiles, while others gazed at her with reverence.

‘Yes, my people. Those whom I must protect.’

Let those who once despised her in the past do so to their heart’s content.

Those who must be protected become stronger.

Ermedeline slowly stood up from her seat, wearing a satisfied smile as she looked around.

In the small shop, a place that couldn’t be described as particularly grand, where the craftsmen were busy making masks, Ermedeline finally became a true Empress.

***

On this dark night, the surroundings of what seemed to be a completed construction site for the orphanage were eerily quiet. There was only one duty-bound guard watching the gate, and no one else in sight. After all, there was no need to station a strong guard around an orphanage that hadn’t been built yet.

With caution, Duke François approached the guard and cast the curse of slumber behind the Southern soldiers. They would remain unconscious for a couple of hours, oblivious to the world.

After another quick look around, the Duke drew his dagger and slashed his palm without hesitation.

A fair amount of blood dripped to the floor.

The Duke smiled an eerily beautiful smile as he saw the ground soaked in his own blood.

A smile that bore a striking resemblance to Ermedeline’s, but was cold and sinister.

***

“Oh, not again.”

Rooney, who had been napping beside Ermedeline, got up and soaked a towel in lukewarm water.

As she wrung out the water and wiped the sweat from her brow and the tears from her cheeks, another familiar word came out of Ermedilin’s mouth.

“I don’t want...... to...... Kyeongs.......”

‘Kyeong? What the hell is that word, and why are you crying while mumbling these words?’

Sometimes when Ferdant’s name comes up, I think maybe it’s because she’s his mom, but she has no idea what the word means.

Rooney was very curious about the meaning of the word, but she couldn’t ask because she felt like if she told the truth and asked what it meant, she would be ordered to go back to bed.

‘Your Majesty, what dreams do you have that make you cry every night?’