/”I’ll become your wife… So you must give me love.”/

I had a nightmare.

Antheo rose from his bed, ran his fingers through his jet-black hair, and let out a deep sigh.

“…Are you alright, Your Majesty?”

The chief chamberlain preparing breakfast in the room observed his poor complexion with concern.

The expression of Edgar Londman, his aide who had come to deliver his schedule, also reflected worry.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

After briefly collecting himself by rubbing his face, Antheo soon got up and put on his robe.

While the aide’s voice reciting his schedule sounded distant, Antheo stood by the window smoking a cigarette, dwelling on last night’s nightmare.

Diana Veronique in his dream had died.

It was a moment he had dreamed of all along.

How desperately he must have wished for it to appear even in his dreams.

He longed for the clingy Empress to be gone as soon as possible.

/”You must love me.”/

Yet Diana Veronique couldn’t break her obsession with him even in her dying moment, spewing such curses.

Though he had awakened from the dream, he still felt her ghost lingering around him.

It was disgustingly chilling.

He was born noble, raised precious, the absolute existence of this land. Nothing in this world was beyond his reach or accomplishment.

Except for one thing—his spouse.

It was a first.

Something he couldn’t control according to his will.

Diana Veronique and he had been depicted as one unit since time immemorial.

They became each other’s partners without any unexpected changes, through the active promotion of his mother, Empress Dowager Claudia.

With her solid position and followers who had built trust over many years, his mother Claudia was the Empire’s real power, surpassing even his father, the previous Emperor.

Now that she was dead, no one remained to oppose his will, but unfortunately, Diana Veronique had already taken her place by his side. In this Empire that followed the temple’s doctrine, there were only two ways to divorce.

Either the Empress dies and vacates her position, or she is deemed a heretic.

The temple strictly prohibited divorce in the name of the Holy Spirit.

Marriage was a sacred ceremony promising a lifetime before the Holy Spirit. Therefore, one should be extremely cautious when choosing a spouse, yet his own opinion was not reflected at all in his marriage.

Diana Veronique felt like a remnant left behind by the Empress Dowager, and spending a lifetime with such a woman gave him the distinctly unpleasant feeling of powerlessness.

In a marriage that displeased him from the beginning, Antheo found his own entertainment.

He devoted himself to debauchery.

To escape the existence of Diana Veronique, he changed women every night, which was quite enjoyable.

When morning came, he could face Diana Veronique’s distorted expression as she tried to become closer to the perfect Empress.

However, as if becoming immune to his behavior, after some time Diana stopped expressing dissatisfaction with his nightlife.

He realized this complacency came from her confidence that none of the women warming his bed threatened her position, so Antheo began to change his approach.

The virile Emperor, who had neglected the Empress and embraced countless low-born women, now decided to find someone to share his true feelings with.

Someone as precious and perfect as himself would be fitting.

After neglecting the Empress for about three years, the Empire’s nobles competed to present suitable candidates, and Antheo chose the most beautiful and impressive woman to keep by his side.

Minerva Atrens, who had begun to stand out in central social circles.

“…Your Majesty?”

A woman hidden under thick blankets raised her head, searching for him amid the bustling servants preparing breakfast.

Her long eyelashes fluttered down over her half-closed sleepy eyes. The beautiful woman, rubbing her eyes as sunlight poured over her soft brown hair, fully opened her clear blue eyes after putting on the robe handed by her maid.

“Sleep a bit more.”

“No, I’m fully awake now… You must have had a bad dream. You were even talking in your sleep, unlike yourself.”

/”Liar.”/

/”You’re quite fearful, Theo.”/

Looking at the beauty greeting the morning with him, Antheo recalled Diana Veronique’s face from last night, reproaching him with eyes as cold as shattered ice crystals.

Diana Veronique, who threw herself into rough waters, didn’t spare even a glance for his lover Minerva Veronique, who now occupied her completely stolen position.

She only cursed him with her twisted gaze before disappearing into the waters.

“It seems like you’re the one who needs more sleep, Your Majesty.”

Antheo extinguished his cigarette and turned around, relaxing his tense gaze as Minerva approached and embraced his shoulders.

Minerva Atrens, universally praised, might be the perfect existence he sought. All that remained was to make her the most precious.

With rumors of the Empress being possessed by an evil spirit and the imperial honor declining, he needed to find a plausible excuse to prevent that woman from staining his palace before leaving.

So until Diana Veronique’s existence was erased from everyone’s memory and became nothing, he needed to keep his flaws tightly hidden.

※※※

“I told you to get out, but you brought a friend.”

“Let me introduce myself. Angell Clarvin, High Priest from Warmwell, and behind me are priests from the Warmwell Temple who have come to check on Your Majesty’s well-being.”

“Can’t handle it alone so you brought everyone?”

I laughed at the priest, Angell Clarvin, who shamelessly provided thorough introductions. Behind me, people who seemed to have been abandoned in the East Palace with me came out to greet the unwelcome visitors.

The East Palace, with its prominently tall pointed spires, was an abandoned place far from the central palace in the middle of the eastern forest.

Its exterior exuded a gloomy atmosphere, boasting sharp and ominous iron bars that decorated it, befitting its past use as a fortress.

Now called the “tomb of empresses” because many historical empresses had been abandoned and imprisoned here, this massive coffin was visited by messengers of God who looked excessively pure.

Inappropriately so.

In contrast, those guarding my back had already grown tired of life here, their complexions noticeably different. With gloomy, sunken expressions, they cast glances of sympathy and respect toward the priests.

Finding the situation not even worth laughing at, I turned and headed for the stairs. After climbing a few steps, I turned to observe the continuing silence.

The scene I saw while gripping the railing was more like a confrontation than a welcome, absurdly comical.

“I am Debora Barochel.”

With the palace’s host gone, a mysterious woman appeared, cutting through the crowd to greet everyone.

The red-haired maid maintained excessive elegance despite being left in this ruined place, refusing to abandon her stiffness.

‘Debora Barochel.’

The only maid who remained by Diana Veronique’s side, her closest confidant who had been with her for many years.

I knew of her—registered as the only female member of the Empire’s Academy for her exceptional intelligence.

In the revised manuscript, she was a truly unfortunate woman whose talents couldn’t bloom and was buried alive with Diana in the old castle.

To bury such a capable talent simply because they had been together for many years—what a waste.

I began to examine Debora Barochel with narrowed eyes. Her stiffly raised head and downcast eyes suggested she found these uninvited guests as unpleasant as I did.

“……”

As I examined Debora Barochel, my gaze unconsciously shifted to the man wearing his robe pulled down.

I now recalled what this man’s existence was.

Angell Clarvin.

An angel who circles around the evil spirit to prove his will, eventually falling together with Diana despite not having spent many years with her.

Our eyes met, and neither seemed willing to look away. The priest persistently followed me with his gaze, showing not a hint of hesitation.

“How impudent.”

His confidence that he could reform me was simply pathetic.

“Your Majesty.”

“…Your Majesty.”

“Empress, Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty.”

“……”

D*mn it.

Unlike his appearance, he was quite persistent.

The priest diligently sought me out, disrupting my plans to lock myself in my room and contemplate how to finish off the Emperor.

“I told you not to come.”

“I heard you skipped another meal.”

My sharp gaze turned to another annoying presence at the door—the red-haired maid, Debora Barochel.

She must have been the informant. This was how things had been happening all along.

“You must eat properly.”

“How many times do I have to say it? Skipping breakfast won’t kill me.”

“Refusing is pointless. I’ll wait until you finish everything.”

“……”

Should I stab him with this fork?

The priest placed the tray firmly in front of me and gave me a mischievous smile.

Debora Barochel had the same reaction. When the priest intervened, even if it took time, there were signs of resolution. She was a very presumptuous maid, her eyes sparkling with expectation that I would eventually surrender today.

“To achieve your great work, you need to be healthy.”

After glaring at both of them for a while, the annoying priest added with a meaningful tone.

The “great work” seemed to refer to my statement about slitting the Emperor’s throat, but it looked like I needed to catch this dove-like angel before going after the Emperor.

“Would you like me to help you?”

“…You’re crazy.”

The priest even pretended he would feed me, so I finally gripped the fork.

“Finish everything and quickly recover so you can attend the reception in good condition, Your Majesty.”

“Pack your bags now. When I recover, I’ll cut you all off first.”

“It’s good to see you determined to return.”

I expressed my displeasure by crushing the egg with my fork as the priest smiled smugly.

“Eat slowly.”

“I don’t want to.”

As if anyone cared.

Knowing the priest would stand guard all day if I didn’t eat everything, I forcibly stuffed the unpleasant food into my mouth.

※※※

Debora Barochel had many days of worry as the Empress repeatedly refused meals and medicine.

The Empress, who had been suffering from a terrible illness where demons disturbed her mind, showed signs of improvement to the point where she could move around on her own, but that was all.

She didn’t seem to remember anything about Debora, who had been by her side all this time.

What medicine should be used for such an illness?

Would the priest have an answer if she asked?

Looking at the cracked cornice of the old castle while sitting on the windowsill reading a book, Debora’s ash-gray eyes sank like a deep abyss.

Unlike the dark circumstances inside, the spring weather was peaceful and leisurely. The sound of mountain birds and the gentle spring breeze swept through Debora’s reddish-brown hair and the pages of her book.

/”I hate it, I hate bitter things!”/

/”But, Miss. You need to take your medicine to regain your strength quickly.”/

/”…What’s this?”/

/”Mellin baked it for you. You like sweet, yellow things, don’t you?”/

“Honey pie.”

The reason she suddenly thought of sweet, sticky dessert was because she saw marigolds blooming sparsely around the castle ruins.

※※※

/”I don’t want to.”/

Angell, who had once again been thoroughly scolded and driven away by the Empress, headed to the backyard with leftover medicinal herbs.

He needed to burn the herbs left over from making medicine.

Some medicinal herbs used for treatment could be dangerous enough to cause death if abused.

Warmwell Temple, which maintained balance across the continent, broadly prohibited the use of such dangerous substances, but allowed limited use to priests with authority.

Even then, permission from the temple was required, and only the necessary amount could be used after reporting.

In short, these were difficult items to obtain.

However, these current herbs were destined to turn to ash without showing any of their usefulness.

It was a measure to prevent ab*se, but still.

“What a waste. I could make a fortune if I sold just a handful.”

Deacon Levin, who had followed behind Angell, grumbled as he added his comment.

Angell turned his gaze from the blazing fire to the boy.

“Don’t say such things, even as a joke.”

“……”

Levin let out a cold laugh at Angell’s invariably weighty remark.

Then, with strangely stiff lips, he looked up at Angell and asked:

“I’m curious about something… Why didn’t you proceed with the exorcism of the Empress?”

It was a belated question about his decision last winter to refuse the golden opportunity to exorcise the possessed Empress, despite active support from the Empire and Warmwell.

Even Pope Sergeus, who had personally visited after hearing the Empire’s sad news, made no secret of his anger at Angell’s choice.

Angell Clarvin, a high priest who had never gone against the will of God and the temple and enjoyed the Pope’s full affection, showed his first rebellion by refusing this most important task.

Levin still vividly remembered that historic day.

In response to Levin’s question, Angell stared at the crackling flames with an empty expression.

“Because such a ritual wouldn’t solve anything.”

What did he mean, such a ritual couldn’t solve it?

How else could an evil spirit be dealt with if not through exorcism?

Levin frowned at Angell’s intentions, which he could hardly understand, and his regretful feelings toward Angell grew—he had dragged out something that could have been resolved before spring.

Following High Priest Angell Clarvin, Levin had received everyone’s trust and gratitude, but he had also experienced hardships. However, life here brought different difficulties than those in the outback.

“Priest. Do you know what the nobles passing through here are whispering about the current situation? …They say she’s a beauty possessed by an evil spirit. I hate hearing such things. It feels more unfair and painful to hear such words about you than about myself.”

The festering words poured out uncontrollably. Levin deeply respected and loved Angell Clarvin as a person.

He had seen with his own eyes the process and fruits Angell had borne to reach this position.

He had once fiercely defended him when there were ridiculous rumors that Angell Clarvin received the Pope’s and wealthy patrons’ favor due to his fortunately born appearance.

Of course, he had been severely scolded by Angell at that time.

But somehow, he didn’t scold Levin this time. He merely stared at the boy who worried about him.

“An evil spirit.”

“…Yes.”

“Except for that, perhaps it’s not so wrong.”

“…What?”

Levin’s expression turned incredulous as he noticed Angell’s subtly curved lips beneath his empty eyes that had been fixed on the flames.

“Oh, forget it! Just put out the fire.”

By then, the burned herbs had released thick smoke, filling the surroundings with a hazy mist.

Whether due to the acrid smoke or Angell’s outrageous statement while tending to an evil spirit, Levin’s expression remained crumpled.

Angell also hurriedly picked up a bucket he had brought to extinguish the fire, which was producing more smoke than expected.

“…This smoke isn’t coming from here.”

That’s when he realized the surroundings were excessively hazy.

The smoke was literally everywhere.

Where on earth did this smoke originate? After extinguishing the herbs, the two quickly moved and—

“Kyaah!!”

Soon heard a scream coming from the back door leading to the kitchen.

※※※

“So, you burned down the entire kitchen to make this.”

The result placed before the Empress was truly miserable.

Debora, who had come to investigate the commotion, stood before the Empress with her head bowed—a head that had never bowed to anyone—wearing an ashamed expression.

If there was one talent that God had not granted to Debora Barochel, called a prodigy among the siblings of the renowned Barochel family, it was cooking skills.

The pie that should have been appetizingly golden had been terribly burned, looking like a cake struck by lightning.

“I apologize.”

If Mellin from the Wendelloon Veronique ducal residence had seen this, she would have scolded her for wasting precious flour.

But at this moment, only Debora alone remembered such memories.

Diana’s illness was that kind of disease.

A very frightening disease that spread emptiness around her.

“If your brilliant plan was to make me take medicine instead of eating this, I’ll praise that idea alone.”

“……”

Was it really necessary to go that far?

At Diana’s cold words, even the palace servants and priests who were carrying water to extinguish the fire froze in place and turned to look at her.

Resentful glances followed her as she callously treated the only person who remained by the side of the mad Empress possessed by an evil spirit.

Angell’s expression also hardened along with the silence that pervaded the kitchen.

Levin, too, couldn’t relax his expression as he watched Diana’s retreating back as she left the kitchen.

Indeed, the Empress was possessed by an evil spirit.

So please, may the High Priest who tries too hard to love everyone finally resolve to condemn this evil spirit.

※※※

After returning to my room and locking the bolt,

“Hah……”

Only then did the breath I’d been holding escape.

Seeing Debora Barochel bow her head over a burnt piece of bread made me furious beyond measure.

I could immediately recognize what the blackened pie had been, despite its barely recognizable form.

It seemed to be something deeply engraved in Diana Veronique’s memory, completely unrelated to Yoon Jane.

The ghost had left such traces in this body before departing.

Only after becoming completely alone thanks to the firmly locked bolt did I collapse and bury my face in my hands.

My protagonist in the ruined manuscript by someone else’s hand is excessively emotional and weak.

She attaches meaning to every insignificant thing, to the point where she can’t endure even such trivial matters.

But that’s why Diana Veronique entrusted this life and fate to me before running away.

So she shouldn’t have left any regrets.

You abandoned all of this and left, so you shouldn’t have shamelessly imposed such constraints.

Anyway, this body is mine now, and I will gladly accept the ghost’s proposal and move toward the ending I desire.

I will possess everything.

To do so, I had no time to waste on the lingering attachments of a ghost.

I bit my lips hard, trying to hide my trembling fingertips.