The priest’s treatment was quite… good.

Last time, I managed to tolerate it because I was wrapped in bandages, but today he used bare hands.

No matter how beautiful and desirable the priest might be, the deeply ingrained habit in this body made it difficult to allow his touch.

It took much deliberation and time to grasp his outstretched hand, but the gap that couldn’t be closed from a regrettable distance was carefully bridged by the priest himself.

Eventually, warm energy began to flow from our hands clasped as if in prayer.

It strangely calmed me.

The warmth spreading from his hands enveloped my cold body in a pleasant heat, and for the first time since opening my eyes in this place, I felt at peace.

“Useful.”

At my words, the priest let out a soft chuckle and raised his head to look at me.

He had beautiful eyes.

In the quiet room where everyone had withdrawn, only the priest’s voice softly echoed as he murmured in a language I couldn’t understand, like a prayer.

His voice was also pleasant to hear—moderately deep with resonance.

Listening to his voice, I closed my eyes and entrusted myself completely to the priest.

Lulled by that tranquility, I must have dozed off during the treatment.

/”Aren’t you sorry for what you did to your mother?”/

/”……Fly away.”/

/”I should have killed everyone.”/

Terrible nightmares, so different from the peaceful process of falling asleep, began to torment me without fail.

※※※

Like a scene from a black and white film, colorless images flowed by.

The familiar place was a dark practice room, and I was dancing there without rest.

/”Faster. You’re doing it wrong!”/

/”……”/

/”Mind your fingertips! What are you doing? Do you call that dancing?!”/

Tick, tick.

The metronome’s sound intertwined with the shouting pierced my ears.

Still, I stretched my fingertips toward the black ceiling as if they might break.

/”If you keep doing it like that, you’ll never match even your mother’s toes. Do you understand?”/

Tick.

With the stopped metronome…

I collapsed without ever possessing anything beyond that.

I sat on the floor, breathing heavily.

Sweat drops fell onto the smooth practice room floor, and my body shattered into pieces that rolled across the floor.

Having lost my arms and legs, my powerless eyes remained fixed on the swan in the mirror.

In the mirror was the continuous replay of my mother, who had become a swan that could no longer soar because of me.

/”Fly, my child.”/

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight.

I rose, destroying everything that stood in my way. Yet even I couldn’t destroy what was already dead.

How could I ever surpass that person who had become a perfect ideal, frozen in time?

How much more must I break before it ends?

“…Your Majesty.”

“I’m sick of it.”

“…Your Majesty!!”

“Everything.”

I wish it would all die.

I shook my body violently, which swayed like it had heavy weights attached.

Something firmly gripped my arms and legs. I struggled and used all my strength to shake off those hands.

How long did I fight to break free from those hands?

Thud.

With one final strong pull on my arm…

“Your Majesty!”

“…Hah!”

I awoke from the nightmare that was chaotically ransacking my mind.

Through my blurred vision, something white rippled again.

“…What is it.”

I blinked and looked around as my sight gradually returned.

I saw feet covered in dirt, fingertips with scabs, and arms full of scratches.

The white object before my eyes was, of course, the priest.

Angell, who kept following me around.

“Where am I?”

When I asked dazedly in a weak voice, Angell’s hands gripping me tightened.

“…A forest not far from the garden.”

“Ah… I…”

What was I doing?

“…You were taking a walk.”

“……”

Lies.

I stared at Angell, who seemed to have read my thoughts.

“You came looking for me, saying you felt confined staying in your room all the time and wanted to take a walk.”

Lies.

It must surely be that disease flaring up again.

Nevertheless, I nodded slowly and joined the priest’s ridiculous play.

“Right. That’s what happened.”

“……”

“I want to go back.”

When I tried to stand from where I had collapsed, my legs wouldn’t support me.

As if he had expected this too, Angell skillfully helped me up, offered his arm for support, and took off his shoes to put them on my feet.

Everything flowed naturally.

As if he had repeated this countless times, making it seem like the newly awakened me wouldn’t be startled.

On the way back, the priest didn’t ask anything.

No sound reached my ears except for the rustling of leaves in the wind and the chirping of insects.

That made me feel more at peace than ever.

“…You seem familiar with this. Perhaps because you’ve experienced it often.”

Suddenly, I was struck by how comfortably the priest dealt with the broken things here.

He was a messenger of God who shouldered divine will to save those who suffer.

Though they say it became a mess through repeated revisions, the one who originally created this world was none other than me.

The world created by a monster like me was, unsurprisingly, festering in various places.

The seemingly perfect Empress had gone mad, and the beautiful nation was crumbling under war, famine, and disease.

God’s messengers who travel to places desperately needing help and become their salvation.

Among them, Head Priest Angell Clarvin, praised by all—what kind of filthy pain had he witnessed with those fresh, pure eyes?

“…There was someone close to me who suffered from the same illness.”

At his matter-of-fact answer, I looked up at him. His gaze was now directed at the night sky, having left the forest.

“You must have had a hard time.”

“They were a good person.”

His eyes, which had been holding the night, deepened and met mine.

“They were someone who gave their all for a better world.”

From the priest’s conversations ending in the past tense, I could tell that the person he spoke of had already left this world.

That suddenly reminded me of a superstition that existed in this world—a newly written setting in the revised manuscript.

“I heard there’s something like that in heretical magic… The Ritual of Aspiration.”

It was a ridiculous magic that claimed if one left this life while earnestly envisioning the paradise they desired, they would finally find that paradise.

While I disliked all the revised parts, I particularly hated that one.

Because that was the choice my protagonist ultimately made.

Diana Veronique fled toward a paradise that might not even exist, lamenting that she could no longer be restored, so that the Emperor’s profound regret could begin.

“It’s a taboo that should never be attempted or even be curious about.”

“I know.”

I looked at the priest who cut me off firmly, afraid I might develop an inappropriate interest.

Even for you, who has seen countless pains in this place, there must surely be a paradise you dream of.

What kind of place would that be?

It’s truly unfortunate that you’ve been made to love such broken things in this broken world, but I agreed with the priest that the Ritual of Aspiration and fleeing to find paradise were things that should never be attempted.

Because I know better than anyone that a place sought in escape can never become paradise.

※※※

“Really… Are you sure about this?”

Despite Debora’s concerns, I nodded indifferently and continued what I was doing.

Scratch, scratch—my hand, writing the letter without hesitation, finally made its concluding mark.

“Yes. This way I can at least see my father off on his journey.”

The letter I had just written contained the imperial order for Duke Veronique to head to the southern battlefield and a brief greeting.

This couldn’t be anything but good news for my father, who had been keeping a low profile in his homeland since last winter, too ashamed to show his face because of his daughter who had suddenly gone mad.

However, Debora couldn’t accept my intention to deliver the imperial order personally.

She exclaimed that I was already being punished for causing a disturbance at the main palace the other day, and this would only add fuel to rumors about misfortune befalling the imperial family.

The imperial palace was keeping its gates tightly shut to hide the fact that the Empress was possessed by an evil spirit.

It was obvious how an Empress who pushed her father to the battlefield would be perceived.

“That rumor is a good weapon for me now. I certainly won’t die alone.”

I returned her concern with a smile and rose from my seat.

I needed to see Duke Veronique.

The current Diana Veronique was nothing but a powerless being.

It was better to gather anything that could be used as a weapon. For example, the revival of a once-glorious family.

Debora, who had been trying to dissuade me from visiting the main palace to request the lifting of my confinement so I could visit the Duke’s residence, eventually surrendered to my stubborn refusal to yield.

“His Majesty’s schedule cannot be disclosed carelessly.”

As expected, my path was blocked when I visited the main palace early in the morning.

I narrowed my eyes at the knight who firmly stood in my way.

Near noon, I had thought the Emperor would naturally be spending time in his office, but the path that had been blocked several times at the main palace came to a complete standstill here.

The knight, receiving my burning gaze, cleared his throat awkwardly and avoided my eyes while more firmly blocking the door.

I’d heard they all avoided eye contact to prevent being enchanted by a heretical witch.

Even such a dutiful knight seemed to fear the evil spirit.

So they fear the Empress not because of her authority but because of rumors. See? I told you this was my weapon.

Finding the situation even more amusing, I reached out to the knight blocking my path and dusted off his collar.

The imperial guard’s insignia was elegantly embroidered on it.

The knight froze in tension at the sudden touch, and after dusting his collar for a while, I roughly pulled him close to make direct eye contact.

“Ah, ah…!”

Caught off guard by this impulsive action, the knight was helplessly pulled forward and bowed, then turned pale with fright at our meeting gazes.

Finding him cute, I smiled and asked:

“Who am I?”

“…Ah, you are Her Majesty the Empress of Lobart.”

“And who are you?”

“…A knight of Third Division of the Imperial Guard of Lobart…”

“Since when did the Imperial Guard reign over the Empress?”

“……”

A quiet stillness enveloped the corridor.

“You should listen to me, shouldn’t you?”

/”H-His Majesty has gone to the Fifth Court with Lady Atrens!”/

Ha, so that’s it.

His Majesty, afraid of the imperial scandal, keeps the castle gates tightly shut, yet hides behind the castle walls and goes flower viewing with his lover first thing in the morning.

“That guy is really amusing.”

I had discovered his whereabouts, but I wasn’t in a hurry.

Since His Majesty had set such a good example, who was I not to enjoy some flower viewing myself?

However, most regrettably, the courts were decorated only with empty flowerbeds. It was only early spring, after all.

Going flower viewing when no flowers had bloomed yet suggested that this was turning into an *rotic story rather than a revenge tale, regret story, or transmigration story.

They had lunch together and immediately went to the garden, so they probably hadn’t been out long.

I thought I might applaud them if we happened to meet by chance, but the courtiers who vanished as if they’d encountered a monster the moment I appeared left the garden deserted.

Nothing to see here.

…Oh, I take that back.

“Is it over already? That was faster than I expected.”

Just then, the spectacle I’d been waiting for appeared.

The most useless and unhelpful man in Diana Veronique’s life and his lovely lover.

“Ha.”

As soon as Antheo spotted me, he immediately hid his lover behind his back and sneered with a twisted expression.

Upon our encounter, the imperial guards who had been patrolling the area gathered around us alertly.

They looked ready to seize me and throw me in prison this time if I made any move toward the couple.

“I imposed confinement, yet you brazenly appear before my eyes again. What punishment should I give you this time?”

Antheo tilted his head as if he had anticipated this situation.

“You’re so diligent. I wonder how much of this vast garden you’ve scoured. You shouldn’t be straining yourself when you’ve barely risen from your sickbed.”

“I’m up, aren’t I? I can’t just lie in bed waiting for death forever, can I, Your Majesty?”

I responded with a smile of my own.

He laughed outright at me, then looked me up and down, wrinkled his expression, and let out a derisive laugh.

“What’s with that appearance?”

“What’s wrong with my appearance?”

“I’d hoped you’d at least make the effort to wear an outdoor dress. Now you’re so lacking in dignity that it’s embarrassing to even call you Empress. Do you still not understand why the open court has been closed?”

His consistent focus on appearances was so pathetic that I couldn’t help but snicker.

“I thought Your Majesty closed it so you could whisper sweet nothings to your mistress in peace?”

“…Won’t you shut that mouth?”

“There are many eyes watching, Your Majesty. You should maintain your dignity.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. But you know what? I don’t think anyone here will find my behavior strange.”

What are you going to do about it? Everyone says I’m mad.

Antheo signaled the imperial guards to restrain me, as if there was no point in talking further.

When words fail, use force.

Having experienced this approach last time, I had anticipated it and was about to bring up my business when—

“I apologize, but no one here may lay hands on the physical body of Her Majesty the Empress.”

It was Debora.

Antheo burst into incredulous laughter at her attitude as she blocked the approaching guards.

“What is this now?”

“I am Debora Barochel, lady-in-waiting to the Empress’s Palace, Your Majesty.”

“The Empress’s Palace? Since when did that place become the Empress’s Palace?”

“If Her Majesty is there, what else would that place be but the Empress’s Palace?”

I’m impressed by how she doesn’t cower even before the Emperor.

See? She’s really something.

Debora showed impeccable adherence to protocol and etiquette even while facing the risk of being dragged away, which was impressive even to me as a layperson.

“In the name of the Holy Spirit, Her Majesty the Empress has ascended to the most noble position in the Empire. Laying hands on such a person, except for the purpose of treatment, is something that even Your Majesty cannot do.”

“What?”

“I apologize. This is the law of the temple, and since the Empire respects the temple’s will, I could not stand by.”

There was not a hint of sincerity in her apology. Her dry, rigid tone delivered only correct statements, leaving the imperial guards confused and the Emperor’s expression even more distorted.

“This is the Empire. No one here has the authority to refuse my orders. So, Lady Barochel, I hope you won’t cross the line before my mercy runs out.”

“Then it would be right to punish all the imperial guards who cannot refuse orders and touch the Empress’s body. There are only two cases when the Empress can be arrested: murder and supporting the will of heretics.”

I noticed the surrounding reactions becoming somewhat rigid at the mention of heretics, but no one addressed it. Though I had shown eccentric behavior, the imperial family was also embroiled in scandal because of me, so they couldn’t accuse the Empress of being a heretic.

The imperial guards hesitated, Minerva still hid behind him observing the situation, and the Emperor let out a hollow laugh as if lamenting the situation.

“Now even the Empress’s lady-in-waiting insults me. You’ve trained her well.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“Listen carefully. If you want to keep your life, don’t think about crawling out of that place. Just the thought of having kept an Empress who can’t even show the slightest usefulness by my side makes me feel like I’m going mad.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“…What?”

Now was my chance to state my business.

Clearing up the slight commotion around us, I approached him and took out the letter I had been writing all morning.

“To prove my minimum usefulness. …Please let me personally deliver the dispatch order to Duke Veronique.”

The letter, without the imperial seal, was still unsealed, so he could read it right away if he wanted.

It seemed to be an unexpected proposal, as Antheo couldn’t hide his bewilderment. He looked down at the letter for a moment before beginning to tear it to pieces.

“The imperial family suffered such humiliation because of you, and you want me to send you outside? You’re clearly out of your mind.”

“You could at least read it.”

I stared impassively at the paper scraps that had become trash. I had expected him to play hard to get like this. Now what should I do?

As I pondered, my gaze gradually shifted from him to the figure hiding behind him.

Behind the Emperor’s shoulder, I could see luscious dark brown hair and the fluttering hem of a vibrant dress, swaying with the movements of the frightened woman.

Antheo must have felt my gaze too, as he pulled the woman at his side even closer.

Most frustratingly, at that moment my breath was choked off again, and I was consumed by rising anger.

“What are you so afraid of?”

I asked, staring intently at the two lovers.

What was so frightening that made him guard against me so much when I had no power or authority left?

“Afraid? Don’t be mistaken. I simply don’t want to see such a filthy sight.”

My insides were twisting, and I couldn’t breathe.

The foolish body’s owner urged me to turn a blind eye to all the outrageous things this man was doing to her. As proof, my fists clenched involuntarily.

My tightly clenched fists, with nails digging into my palms, trembled.

“I regret to inform Your Majesty, but if I don’t go, no one from my family will move.”

“Ha, are you trying to threaten me now? Think you can hold out? If you defy the imperial order, all your heads will roll. Do you intend to completely uproot the Veronique family?”

“That’s why I’m saying I’ll go.”

Stupid Emperor.

Did he not understand why Duke Veronique, obsessed with honor and power, had begun to seclude himself in his mansion away from the capital?

“My father valued family honor above all else. He was someone who willingly stood at the forefront to be the arms and legs of the Empire more than anyone else. Duke Veronique, who used to proudly display his loyalty, has now distanced himself from the imperial family and disappeared during these turbulent times.”

“Of course. His daughter’s defect was exposed to the world.”

“He’s ready to give up everything, Your Majesty. The Duke has abandoned his loyalty to the imperial family and the future of the Empire.”

Antheo’s mouth, about to spout tiresome nonsense, snapped shut.

He seemed to be gradually grasping the situation.

“Duke Veronique’s territory, Wendelloon, occupies part of the southern border. Since it’s land protected by a war hero, it receives less attention from imperial troops dispatched to the south.”

There’s a man there who has lost hope and given up everything. If he thinks everything is ruined, he’ll be waiting for death, having turned his back on the country that abandoned him and the era that abandoned him.

That meant nothing less than a huge hole had been torn in the southern defense line.

“The longer Duke Veronique’s absence continues, and the longer the castle gates remain closed, the sooner the King of Delpha will notice and move to attack Wendelloon. If he discovers that the land of the legendary hero is actually abandoned land, he will never miss that opportunity. My father, who has given up being a hero of the Empire, will not make any sacrifice for the country that abandoned him. Or perhaps he might take the hand of the enemy who would welcome his abandoned self and seek new glory.”

Duke Veronique would either abandon defense without compensation and open the way, or if any roots of ambition remained, he might take the enemy’s hand.

“So he would betray the country and choose a dishonorable death?”

“Living a life already stained with dishonor is painful from the start.”

That’s the kind of person Diana Veronique’s father is.

/”I should have ended it all back then.”/

A person born from my muse, claiming to be my father.