I Possessed the Wicked Empress (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 4
Of course, aside from the situational reasons, Ermedilin had another reason for feeling drawn to the maids.
Seeing them reminded her of her own late teens—fierce and desperate—when, after leaving the orphanage, she had faced the harsh world entirely alone.
‘They’re at the age when they should be studying, falling in love, and playing freely.’
She knew well that the concept of age here differed from that of her original world, but after all, she’d only been reincarnated a few days ago.
Ermedilin still retained much of Hye-young’s way of thinking.
“If I’ve done anything to upset you all until now, I apologize. I dislike it when the people around me keep changing, too. From now on, I’ll do my best to be considerate—let’s get along well.”
Though their actual age difference wasn’t more than a decade or so, Ermedilin felt an elder-sisterly affection toward them, and a gentle smile appeared on her face.
“Your Majesty the Empress is apologizing to us?! That’s utterly undeserved!”
Runi, the eldest among them, jumped up and waved her hands frantically.
Margo wore an indifferent expression with no particular emotion, while Helen still trembled violently, her eyes filled with fear.
‘Just because I’ve been a little kinder doesn’t mean their opinion of me will suddenly change. To alter my image from the original story, I need a more decisive shift. Kind words and actions matter, but first and foremost, I need money. With money, I can run relief efforts and change the people’s perception of me. While I’m settling things with my dysfunctional family, I must absolutely reclaim the money I lent them!’
Ermedilin teamed up with Runi, who was eager to help, drafted a formal complaint, and went to see Duke Baptistian, who was in charge of legal affairs.
The duke, who looked as though not a single drop of blood would flow even if pricked with a needle, received the Empress with impeccable posture.
“I never expected to see you here, Your Majesty.”
His voice carried no discernible emotion, yet it clearly dripped with sarcasm: “What business could possibly bring you here?”
After enduring this treatment for days on end, she no longer even felt anger.
“I’ve come to file a complaint.”
“A complaint? Against whom, may I ask?”
Instead of answering, Ermedilin handed the prepared document to the duke.
As he reviewed the papers with a skeptical expression, his face gradually grew serious.
“If it’s Duke François… surely you don’t mean to sue your own father directly, Your Majesty?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Doesn’t Your Majesty’s power stem from your noble house? Doing this would sever all ties with the ducal family entirely. And since you haven’t yet produced an heir, won’t this jeopardize your position?”
The duke bluntly laid out Ermedilin’s situation without even the pretense of courtesy.
‘Well, if I were obsessed with the empress’s throne like in the novel, this wouldn’t make sense—but I actually want a quick divorce. I have no intention of relying on those trash relatives, whether they’re my birth family or not.’
But she couldn’t reveal the truth outright.
“It’s exactly as written. The borrowed sum is astronomical, and it even includes funds from the state treasury allocated to me. Moreover, he’s repeatedly committed violence against a member of the imperial family—isn’t that an unforgivable crime?”
“You’re right. Even if the borrowed money is repaid, drawing a blade against Your Majesty is a grave matter indeed. Are you truly determined to proceed with the lawsuit?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any witnesses?”
“The cleric who treated me has agreed to testify.”
“Louise, you mean?”
‘Louise? So the cleric’s name is Louise?’
“She resides in the palace—hasn’t she treated me several times already?”
She deliberately gave a slightly evasive reply, but fortunately, Louise did seem to be the correct cleric.
“If we’ve secured a witness with verified identity, it’s worth pursuing. However, once you file this complaint, there’s no turning back—it involves assault on imperial royalty. Your Majesty, are you truly prepared to gamble everything you have?”
Duke Baptistian’s repeated question, seeking confirmation of her resolve, made Ermedilin’s heart waver for a moment.
‘If I break ties with my family, will I truly be left with no one on my side?’
The ending of the novel flashed through her mind.
At both the imperial tribunal and the execution grounds, not a single member of Ermedilin’s family had spoken a word in her defense.
Given how heinous her crimes were in the story, perhaps that was understandable—but the novel even stated that no one bothered to retrieve the Empress’s severed head, leaving it to be devoured by wild dogs and crows.
Suddenly, the wound on her neck—already fully healed—throbbed anew.
‘My side? I suppose not everyone who’s family is truly on my side.’
Back in the orphanage, she’d longed so desperately for a family—but now that she had one, it turned out to be the epitome of dysfunction.
A father who could so casually raise a blade against his own daughter…
Determination hardened in Ermedilin’s violet eyes.
“Please proceed.”
“Yes, understood. But have you secured a lawyer?”
“A lawyer?”
She hadn’t even considered that.
‘I should’ve watched more courtroom dramas. Don’t prosecutors handle everything? Do I really need a lawyer?’
Reading Ermedilin’s flustered expression, Duke Baptistian let out a small sigh and fixed his gaze on her.
“Of course, as the plaintiff, Your Majesty could represent yourself in court. However, many people currently blame you for both the plague ravaging the capital and the circulation of illegal reagents that cause human decay. If you wish to receive a fair judgment—even just for the parts where you’re innocent—it would be wise to hire a competent lawyer.”
‘So in other words, since everyone’s united against me, even with witnesses, I might not get a favorable outcome?’
‘If only the original villain had been moderately villainous! Why did you do such things, previous owner of this body?!’
With her own family as enemies, there was no way she could secure a capable lawyer.
She knew nothing about the law, and her knowledge of this world was limited—representing herself hardly seemed likely to yield good results.
“I doubt I can find a lawyer. I suppose I was a bit hasty.”
Just as she gathered her documents again and turned to leave the duke’s office, his quiet voice stopped her.
“Shall I find you a lawyer?”
“?”
Ermedilin halted, turned around, and looked at him with puzzled eyes.
If her memory served, Duke Baptistian had been one of the people who relentlessly attacked her during her final trial.
“Your offer is very kind, but why the sudden change?”
The duke tapped his finger lightly on the nearby desk, gesturing for her to come closer.
Maintaining a dignified expression, Ermedilin glided smoothly to his side.
“I’m well aware that you dislike me. I hold nothing against you for that. But I find it difficult to accept your kindness at face value.”
“Since Your Majesty has been half-honest, I shall be half-honest as well. I dislike Duke François as much as you do. No—should the contents here be true, as a father myself, I find his actions utterly repulsive. No child should ever suffer such violence at the hands of their own parent.”
Had he said he couldn’t stand by while an Empress was assaulted, she might not have trusted him.
But he’d used the word “child” instead of “imperial royalty.”
Though abandoned at the orphanage as an infant and thus unfamiliar with parental affection, Ermedilin found herself nodding unconsciously at Duke Baptistian’s words.
“Understood. Then, who would you recommend as my lawyer?”
“My son.”
‘Son?’
A faint memory surfaced.
Pelio Baptistian.
In the original story, Pelio had been the palace’s lawyer during the trial, presenting evidence until the very end to ensure Ermedilin’s downfall.
Of course, behind him stood Emperor Henri and his consort, Valière.
Where Henri possessed a fiercely radiant charm like blazing sunlight, Pelio, the duke’s son, was popular for his cool, moonlight-like allure.
A side character whom Ermedilin had tried repeatedly—and failed—to win over in the novel.
According to the story’s descriptions, Pelio didn’t merely dislike Ermedilin—he openly despised her.
“You don’t mean Prince Pelio, do you?”
“Yes. He may be my son, but he’s quite sharp—he’ll be of help.”
“Ah… um… well…”
“What’s the problem?”
“Your son would be willing to defend me?”
It really was that Pelio—Ermedilin’s voice grew quieter and quieter.
She had no desire to seek out humiliation that, in the novel, she’d only had to endure fictionally.
“He will do it.”
Yet the duke’s expression remained confident.
Not a trace of hesitation or doubt crossed his face.
“He may be my son, but he’s stubbornly chivalrous. Beyond the debt itself, he simply cannot overlook an incident where a man draws a blade against a woman.”
“Ah…”
That was right.
In the novel, Pelio’s utter contempt for Ermedilin stemmed from her torturing her maids and, worse still, using an infant in a curse.
He seemed constitutionally incapable of tolerating one-sided physical violence.
But Ermedilin’s past atrocities hadn’t yet become public knowledge.
For now, she might still rely on his sense of chivalry for help.
‘If he’s that rigidly principled, he could indeed be of real help in a case where a woman has been unilaterally assaulted.’
“Understood. I’ll gratefully accept your kindness.”
It felt as though a ray of light had pierced the pitch-black path ahead.
Ermedilin bowed her head slightly, sincerity in her gesture.
Because her gaze was lowered to the floor, she failed to notice the subtle smile tugging at the duke’s lips.
“Aren’t you going tonight?”
Just as she finished preparing and was about to lie down, Runi asked.
“Going where?”
“Didn’t you ask for a lamp every night to go down to the cellar?”
‘Ah, the cellar—the place where Ermedilin used to concoct magical reagents and torture the maids.’
“I was so distracted today I completely forgot. Could you bring it for me?”
“Yes. I’ve already prepared it.”
In Runi’s hand was a lamp already filled with oil.
“Thank you. I appreciate you thinking ahead.”
At a single word of praise, Runi’s face lit up as though she owned the whole world, and she quickly left the bedroom.
The cellar was connected directly to Ermedilin’s bedroom.
Perhaps its existence wasn’t much of a secret, as a small door stood plainly visible right beside the bookshelf.
Yet, as expected, though there was no visible lock, the door wouldn’t open—likely sealed by magic.
‘Blood again? Seriously?’
Annoyed, Ermedilin pricked her finger with a needle she’d secretly taken earlier that day.
‘Never thought my experience of lancing my own finger alone would come in handy like this.’
It was much quicker and less painful than using a fountain pen nib.
When she smeared the blood pooled on her thumb onto the door, it creaked open with an ominous groan, just as before.
Beyond the door lay utter blackness—a complete void so profound it threatened to erase even her sense of self.
Cautiously shining the lamp ahead, she saw a narrow stone staircase stretching endlessly downward.
Gulp.
She swallowed hard and took a deep breath, but her heart pounded wildly as though about to burst.
‘What good is being scared of this? If I just stand here, I’ll end up roasted alive like barbecue meat!!’
Clenching her trembling fists tightly, Ermedilin descended the deep, dark stone steps—one foot, then the other—like walking into a tomb.
After a long descent, another door appeared at the bottom of the stairs. This one, too, opened automatically as soon as she smeared blood on it.
“Ugh. The smell.”
She wrinkled her nose and tried covering it against the foul stench flooding in, but it was no use.
Hoping a window might help, she scanned the stone walls with her lamp, but not even a tiny crack was visible.
Only after lighting the lamps placed intermittently along the way did the cellar’s general appearance finally come into view.
“No wonder it stinks.”
An eerie sight greeted her: all manner of strange herbs and dried corpses of unidentifiable small animals hung in clusters from the ceiling.
“Is this how curses are cast? Truly witch-like.”
Suppressing the rising nausea, she carefully examined the cellar and noticed books placed here and there.
Flipping through them, they appeared to contain recipes for magical reagents.
“Might as well start reading, then?”
Ermedilin picked up the thinnest volume and immersed herself in reading for a long while.
“Hm? What’s this? Nothing but vile magic. Is it because it’s literally called ‘Dark Magic’?”
Diseases, injuries, decay—and beyond that, even a curse to steal one’s eyesight was recorded.
‘No wonder no one likes me—I’m the one who circulated such reagents.’
Shaking her head in dismay, she reached to close the book—when suddenly, a white bundle dropped with a soft thud.
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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Wait what the hell. I lowkey hate henri but i feel bad for her to have to suffer with a loser like him omgn