How to Divorce a Obsessive Emperor Safely (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
‘I can’t believe it….’
Lasilia couldn’t take her eyes off the mirror. It had already been thirty minutes.
The woman in the mirror, Empress Cartagena, was beautiful. She seemed as though every beauty in the world had been gathered and meticulously crafted into one person.
Lush, smooth black hair, skin like marble, and vivid violet eyes like iolite combined to create an unreal beauty. Even her earlobes and fingernails were perfectly lovely.
But that wasn’t all.
She was the woman from my dream. That woman was the Empress of the Empire.
The woman dying in the mirror, bleeding from her chest—now they said that face was hers.
Only after taking several deep breaths repeatedly could Lasilia finally accept this unbelievable reality.
She had become Empress.
‘Then that dream… might have been a prophecy.’
There had been no word that the real Empress had died. Therefore, the Empress’s death was something yet to happen—a future event.
The Empress had died before an Emperor who did not love her.
The Emperor watched her with no emotion whatsoever. The Empress spoke of love desperately, but the Emperor remained chillingly indifferent.
‘Does it mean I’ll fall in love with the Emperor… and die like that?’
Her chest, untouched by any blade, grew cold with dread.
Lasilia squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her chest.
‘No. I can’t die like that.’
Dying again at Flota’s betrayal would be the most horrifying death imaginable.
Until her betrayal, Flota had been the closest person to Lasilia in this world. The one who gave her the deepest affection was the one who killed her.
To be reborn as someone else only to meet the same end would be unbearably tragic.
‘So, I must escape this place. Somehow.’
Being reborn didn’t make her a different person. In Lasilia’s mind, she was still a prophetess.
A prophetess was one who corrected the world’s wrongs on behalf of the gods.
Prince Ricardo’s rebellion was one such wrong. Since the gods had shown her his rebellion, she had a duty to stop it.
‘I must return to Delarta. Time has passed—Prince Ricardo has likely already rebelled. The King might even be dead.… But I have the means to undo that rebellion.’
In Delarta, a nation where prophetesses truly existed, the next king had to appear in the prophetess’s dream.
Even if Prince Ricardo resorted to rebellion, if the gods had acknowledged him as king, they surely would have shown Lasilia a vision of Ricardo as king.
Since Lasilia had never seen such a vision, Ricardo could not hold a coronation.
The problem was how to return to Delarta.
‘If the Empress suddenly decides to visit a small, distant kingdom with no prior ties, it would seem suspicious.’
Lasilia closed her eyes and thought for a long while.
‘What if I reveal that I’m a prophetess? …No, that’s far too dangerous. And no one would believe me. Then how… Ah!’
Lasilia’s eyes lit up.
There was a way—not to make them believe her, but to get to Delarta.
“After all, the Empress has lost her memory.”
Therefore, the Empress’s duty would be to try regaining her memories.
Delarta’s temples earned money through healing prayers. Though few priests truly possessed healing abilities, the prayers’ effects were undeniable.
“I’ll say I need to receive those prayers.”
Conveniently, the Emperor had left word that he’d see her again in the evening.
She had planned to refuse him somehow, but now this was an opportunity to seize.
If she insisted that healing prayers were essential to recover her memories, the Emperor couldn’t refuse her request to go to Delarta.
A faint smile appeared on Lasilia’s face.
She could go back.
[This is the timeline separator]“I’m sleepy.”
Reskal, who had returned to his office and picked up his pen again as if nothing had happened, suddenly muttered.
“Huh?”
“Oh dear.”
Rian, who as usual was sprawled on the office floor, and Serben, standing beside her practicing swordsmanship, reacted instantly.
By the time Reskal set down his pen, Serben was already holding Reskal’s cloak, ready.
“Shall I escort you to your chambers?”
“Hmm. That would be good… No, the sofa is better.”
Reskal walked toward the long chaise lounge placed at one side of the office.
Watching him lie down sideways, Rian tilted her head in confusion.
“It’ll be uncomfortable, won’t it? The sofa is shorter than Your Majesty.”
“It’d be troublesome if I got too comfortable.”
Reskal murmured with his eyes closed.
“Troublesome if you’re too comfortable?”
“We agreed to meet in the evening. I need to wake up before then.”
“Who… Ah, Her Imperial Majesty.”
“…”
Reskal was already asleep; even breaths escaped him.
Serben muttered quietly, utterly baffled.
“His Majesty insists on taking an uncomfortable nap just to see Her Imperial Majesty again… I simply can’t believe it.”
For the past four years, the relationship between Reskal and Empress Cartagena had been utterly inexplicable as a marriage.
Reskal disliked the Empress. More precisely, he felt no emotions toward her—or anyone else, for that matter.
Yet Reskal was the one who needed physical contact. Thus, he had to tolerate the Empress wielding touch as a weapon, wreaking havoc through the palace as she pleased.
Conversely, the Empress desired Reskal. More precisely, she wanted Reskal to see her as his fated partner. Despite his aversion to contact, she never hesitated to draw his attention through dramatic acts like fake suicide attempts.
Unfortunately, Reskal had never shown her the slightest interest. Even during the agony of the Blue Moon, he never forced contact with the Empress—he claimed he didn’t even feel the urge.
Thus, what happened today was shocking.
“We have to believe it, even if it’s unbelievable. It happened, after all. And this must be that, right?”
Rian, crouching near the chaise where Reskal slept, spoke.
Meanwhile, Serben dragged a single-seat sofa over and lifted Reskal’s legs, which dangled beyond the chaise’s armrest, onto it.
“That?”
“The sudden nap. It means his body is recovering, right?”
“Probably.”
Rian carefully lifted Reskal’s sleeve.
“It’s really amazing. It’s all gone already.”
“What? That quickly?”
“Yeah.”
Serben leaned in to look inside the sleeve too. Not even a trace of scales remained.
Whenever the Blue Moon came and left marks of mutation, Reskal would fall into a deathlike sleep.
They understood it as an inevitable part of his body enduring demonic energy within human flesh.
“There’s never been a time before when the mutation vanished this quickly—and without any pain.”
“Right.”
“Then… was I wrong to think Her Imperial Majesty was deceiving us?”
At Rian’s question, Serben rubbed his chin.
“Well… I have no idea what Her Imperial Majesty is thinking. All I know is she’s a twisted, wicked person.”
“Who could possibly understand Her Imperial Majesty?… Hah, if she’s not faking it, that’s even more infuriating! It’d mean she’s been deliberately ignoring contact all this time despite having the chance! Why?”
“Hmm… Maybe because it’s all she has?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Serben furrowed his brow and continued.
“I’m not entirely sure… But Her Imperial Majesty wasn’t always like this, right? Remember? In the early days of the marriage, she used to visit the Emperor’s quarters diligently. When His Majesty showed no interest, she changed her attitude. Maybe it’s just spite? After all, the only leverage she has is physical contact. Without that, she’d have no reason to remain in the palace.”
“Oh…? That makes sense. You’re unusually sharp today.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“So… the cruel, gloomy Empress, who was actually starved for affection, has finally changed her mind? But why today… Wait.”
Rian realized something.
“No, no. Today too, Her Imperial Majesty tried to refuse contact. His Majesty had to forcibly hold her back when she tried to flee.”
“Oh… Now that you mention it, yes.”
“And before today, His Majesty never even attempted something like that.”
“Right. He couldn’t even stand his robes brushing against her.”
“Maybe Her Imperial Majesty was genuine all along, and His Majesty is only now realizing it.”
“Hmm.”
Serben fell into thought.
“Could that be? Fated partners are born as a pair—you’re supposed to recognize each other instantly. Could he really not have known for four whole years? That’s exactly why you and I thought she was a fraud.”
“Whatever it is, it must be connected to her amnesia.”
Rian’s eyes sparkled.
“Think about it. Even though Her Imperial Majesty pulled every trick in the book during past Blue Moons, this is the first time she’s claimed amnesia. Why amnesia of all things? Even as a ruse, it sounds too much like a lie, doesn’t it?”
“True. I’ve been wondering about that too.”
“And to my eyes, Her Imperial Majesty seemed different today. She was in nightclothes when His Majesty arrived! She’s always been perfectly dressed, even during her fake suicide scenes. Wasn’t she the type who’d rather die than show an imperfect version of herself?”
“I completely agree.”
“So the issue must be the amnesia.”
After a moment’s thought, Serben frowned.
“But no matter how I think about it, it doesn’t make sense. Who just wakes up with amnesia out of nowhere?”
“I never said it was real. I meant there must be a reason she needs to claim amnesia.”
Rian smirked, then abruptly stood up.
“Anyway, I’m going to step out for a bit.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“I’m terribly worried about Her Imperial Majesty, who’s lost her memory.”
Serben clicked his tongue.
“Worried, my foot. You’re going to snoop around.”
“Even if I don’t, there are others reporting Her Imperial Majesty’s every move to His Majesty. One more person won’t change anything.”
Rian nudged Serben.
“You’re curious too, aren’t you? Just close your eyes and cooperate.”
“…Damn it, I can’t say no. Fine, be careful. Don’t forget Her Imperial Majesty dislikes you. If you’re caught, His Majesty will have a headache.”
“If we’re talking about dislike, Her Imperial Majesty can’t keep up with me. I won’t get caught. Never.”
Rian jingled the sword at her waist and left the office where Reskal slept.
[This is the timeline separator]Swish!
Clothes spilled endlessly across the room.
Lasilia stared at the mountain of garments hanging from racks, her mouth slightly agape as if overwhelmed.
“I’ve brought all the new outfits. Please choose, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Everyone in the Empress’s quarters knew the Emperor of Eliaeden wasn’t the sort of husband who made sweet remarks like “Let’s meet in the evening.”
The handmaidens of the Empress’s court had watched, exhausted and sometimes trembling with fear, as the Empress acted out over the past four years.
The Empress resented the indifferent Emperor; her resentment turned to sorrow, then to bitterness, so much so that during Blue Moons—when the Emperor needed her—she locked her doors instead.
All of it was a desperate plea, yet the Emperor had never once looked at her.
Thus, on this day when an evening meeting between Emperor and Empress had been arranged, the handmaidens and courtiers in the Empress’s quarters were so tense their shoulders ached.
If even the tiniest mistake were made in Her Majesty’s attire today, no one could bear the Empress’s resulting tantrum.
“There are too many. Could you pick something suitable for me?”
Strangely, the Empress—who should have been driving them like mice—was calm.
“Did Your Imperial Majesty just ask me to choose for you?”
First Handmaiden Marchioness Pashad asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“That would be nice.”
“Ah, but… but how could I possibly… dare to do such a thing? That’s far too generous of you, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Marchioness Pashad quickly backed out.
If tonight’s meeting went poorly, the Empress would surely blame the dress—and she didn’t want that blame falling on her.
“So you don’t want to.”
Lasilia read the Marchioness’s discomfort clearly.
Regardless of what the Empress might have done, Lasilia had no intention of forcing someone into an unpleasant task.
“Then this one.”
Lasilia pointed to a single garment.
Truthfully, all the Empress’s clothes were excessively ornate, making it awkward for her to choose confidently.
Among the endless array, Lasilia picked the one that seemed least decorated. She also liked that it didn’t cinch the waist so tightly as to suffocate her or push up her bust.
“Y-you intend to wear this?”
The handmaidens turned pale as they confirmed the outfit Lasilia had chosen.
“Th-this one…”
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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Chapter Comments (14)
Inline Comments (77)
“Saint Malik’s knights…?”
His full name is Malik Mahmoud😑 How many times do Koreans portray Arab characters as sorcerers and charlatans? 😮💨🤨
“Doesn’t it seem too uncanny to be mere coincidence? What if that crow brought t
This girl deserves applause and the title of investigator. Why did she even become a knight?
“It’s not just about people. You know the saying—‘Birds hear daytime talk.’”
😂😂 she had been traumatized by the birds herself, tho she is right 🤔
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The relationship with Ternaden looks really strange. I mean, the way he behaves around her is so suspicious.
And now I’m even more convinced that Lasilia simply saw Cartagena die because of the ritual, and that’s why she possessed the body and brought back the mark Cartagena used to have, because she is his fated match.
I love Reskal. He’s totally in ‘I saw my chance and I took it’ mode hahahahaha, and since Lasilia is still playing her memory loss card, she can’t question anything he says. I love this man.
Even so, the whole Delarta thing still bothers me. I don’t understand why she’s in such a rush to go there because she’s no longer a prophetess; she’s not Lasilia, she’s Cartagena. Even if she knows the truth, she won’t be able to do anything because she’ll be in the exact same position as she is as Empress—who is going to believe her?
Ugh, I’m still Team Reskal. This man is just everything that is good in this world. He brings her roses, looks for ways to be alone with her, and even moves in just to be with her all the time. And on top of that, he builds her a temple so she can have her prayers to heal… is there anything he can’t do right? hahaha.
The stone seems important; let’s wait and see what comes out of that later.