Chapter 9: An Outrageous Past

Inconceivable. The experience of possession was reserved for a villainess, as only then could the people around her truly appreciate the allure of her transformation. There was nothing commendable about inhabiting the body of a saintess. Her existence revolved around devout prayer each day, subsisting on a meager daily meal akin to a fasting regimen, all within the confines of a secluded and desolate land, isolated from the outside world.

"Damn it, why did I create such a setting? I won't be able to meet anyone unless I escape this barrier!"

She yearned to encounter Emperor Estian, Imperial Knight Commander Kane, Mage Lord Richard, who was set to appear later in the narrative, and even Imperial Prince Ruin, who resided in the distant southern region of the continent. The thought of being imprisoned in the holy kingdom, unable to meet the men she had conjured up in her dreams, caused her anguish.

"No..." the saintess mourned.

She was supposed to take over the villainess's body, reform the tyrant, and indulge in profound platonic love affairs with the supporting male characters. Yet, all of those prospects were slipping away from her grasp, moving farther and farther out of reach.

"I refuse to accept this," the saintess seethed, uttering the same words that had been voiced by someone else, in some other place and time, as she glared in the direction of the empire. "He was meant to be mine..."

Her favorite aspect of Emperor Estian was his purported virginity. But had Estian not already married? Furthermore, according to her informants, the emperor had already taken Cecile to his bed. The saintess's breath grew turbulent.

"Hmm... Very well. I can relinquish one of my cherished tags. I am, after all, magnanimous," she murmured, downgrading the keyword 'virgin' in her heart's ranking and promoting 'vigorous' in its place. “I can simply favor a different keyword instead.’’

The saintess recollected the character profile of Villainess Cecile—a woman from an insignificant kingdom, nothing more than a pretty face. A woman intoxicated by the power bestowed upon her, indulging in opulence and nefarious deeds.

Cecile must perish before I can claim her body.

Fortunately for the saintess, she was the original author of this 'story' and therefore possessed knowledge of a method to jump into another body.

She must first draw her last breath.

Only then could she assume control over Cecile's vacant vessel. The saintess clenched her fists once again, her mind fixated on this fact.

"Wait for me, Estian! My leading man! I shall possess the villainess's body and make you mine, no matter the cost! I vow to restore this world to its rightful state!" She pledged, launching a tightly clenched fist into the air with unwavering determination, causing a larger, more pronounced azure crack to materialize. "Hmm?"

The crack began to widen—the barrier was crumbling. Upon reflection, the previous saintesses had only safeguarded the barrier, never attempting to breach it. The saintess reveled in the sight of the collapsing barrier, demolished by the very person it was meant to shield.

"This is the power of love!" she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

If the barrier had possessed a voice, it surely would have admonished her for her far-fetched claims. Unfortunately, it did not. Without delay, the saintess leaped down from the castle wall. Her body was shielded by divine power, allowing her to land gracefully on the ground. Before her eyes stretched a pristine white forest. She would need to traverse the forest and several nations to reach the Empire.

With unyielding resolve etched on her face, the saintess set off toward the Empire, toward the awaited male lead.

"Love shall triumph over all!"

A bird, startled by the saintess's cry, fluttered its wings irritably in response and took flight into the sky.

* * *

"To amass enough infamy to overshadow my notoriety."

For a moment, Cecile struggled to comprehend the emperor's words. It was only a short while later that she retorted with a solemn expression, "Not just anyone possesses the capability to achieve such a tremendous feat, Your Majesty."

Estian was unsure whether Cecile's response constituted a compliment or an insult. Both of them lapsed into a brief silence, unable to grasp the intent behind each other's words. Estian inquired once more, "Is it truly so arduous?"

"Yes."

"Am I truly that infamous?"

"I believe your renown transcends the heavens, Your Majesty," Cecile eloquently substituted 'infamy' with 'renown' in her reply. Estian couldn't help but feel a twinge of indignation at Cecile's matter-of-fact demeanor.

"I don't believe it's as dire as you make it out to be."

"Your Majesty need not be so modest. Children born on this continent learn your name before their own mother's. Furthermore, if you were to ask any passerby whether they are more acquainted with the sea or with His Majesty, ten out of ten would undoubtedly choose the latter."

Estian felt a sense of unease, despite the ostensibly praiseful nature of her words. "But, if you exert yourself, you too could somehow..."

However, Estian found himself at a loss for words, unable to form a counterargument for some inexplicable reason. Oh, how acutely he felt the sting of her words as though they possessed physical substance.

Meanwhile, Cecile began to grow anxious upon witnessing Estian's uncharacteristic silence.

"Is His Majesty unaware of the gravity of his audacious past actions?"

Cecile recollected a few particularly notorious tales from Estian's chronicle of madness that she had come across. "What power could I possibly possess to outshine Your Majesty's reputation for reducing the entire Forest of Igillith to ashes and salting its lands for ten months, rendering it barren wasteland? Or for leading a vast army to lay waste to the wheat fields of Jaden's Plains, eradicating every last grain for that year? And what of obliterating every ship sailing in Port Catanza, bringing ruin to the western maritime trade route of eleven duchies without spilling a drop of blood? Please don't tell me that I can't achieve such feats simply because 'I haven't tried hard enough', Your Majesty."

After venting her thoughts, Cecile once again realized the sheer number of misdeeds committed by the emperor. Apart from the instances she mentioned, there were accounts of Estian toppling entire nations, ravaging the imperial palace, and annihilating all of his relatives as well. However, she felt it would be rather peculiar to include these cases in Estian's catalogue of fame, so she held her tongue and refrained from further commentary. Having concluded her response to the emperor's suggestion of 'trying harder', Cecile shifted her gaze to the cluster of grapes beside her.

There doesn't appear to be truth serum in those grapes, so why does my mouth insist on speaking freely?

Cecile took a moment to contemplate.

Is it because I've just awakened?

That was likely one factor.

Is it because I feel content being fed fruit?

That too was a probable cause. However, those factors did not negate the past event of being attacked by assassins in the dead of night, nor did they alter the perilous future that awaited her. So why was her tongue so loose and unrestrained?

Cecile's train of thought was interrupted by the sight of Estian's still-silent countenance.

How handsome.

Cecile recollected what she had secretly written on the bathroom wall.

My husband.

And in that moment, as the memory resurfaced, Cecile comprehended the reason behind her unreserved behavior in the emperor's presence. This man was her husband. Although she couldn't publicly declare it, they were bound by the sacred ties of matrimony—signed, sealed, and delivered.

It's because I finally have a family.

Her mother had tragically passed away at an early age, leaving Cecile alone and neglected in the grand royal villa. The man who claimed to be her father, the king of Navitan, never showed an ounce of concern for her. It was as if Cecile was invisible to the entire royal family, a mere phantom within their opulent halls. The only ones who offered her any company were the distant maidservants, who felt compelled to impart a stern word of advice.

"Forgive us, Princess, if our words sound harsh. We cannot be your friends, nor should you consider us as such. Someday, you will find your true family, but it is not us,” they had said.

With tear-filled eyes, Cecile nodded, understanding that their intentions were rooted in goodwill.

Cecile delicately plucked a cluster of grapes and carefully selected the ripest one to offer to the emperor. She yearned to share her favorite indulgence with this man, the first act of familial connection she had ever experienced. Estian recoiled at the suddenness of her action. Who dared to place food in his mouth? And why a grape, of all things? He harbored an aversion to grapes, as it was the vessel that introduced the poison that plagued him long ago.

However, the taste of the juice that trickled from her mouth was unexpectedly sweet.

"Perhaps..." Estian hesitated, but ultimately accepted the grape offered by Cecile. He briefly pondered before crushing the fruit with his tongue and teeth, savoring the refreshing burst of flavor. Surprisingly, it was enjoyable.

Never in the past 20 years had he imagined the possibility of relishing a fruit he had not tasted, or rather, could not taste. And yet, in an instant, that changed. As he swallowed the grape, a smile illuminated Cecile's face beneath him. Observing her radiant expression, Estian's mind wandered to his usual responsibilities—inspecting the knights, holding meetings with the ministers, and the like.

"None of it matters," he whispered quietly.

These trivial matters, which he had never overlooked since ascending to the throne, suddenly seemed meaningless. Skipping them once seemed inconsequential.

Kane, if he were privy to Estian's thoughts, would have vehemently disagreed, exclaiming, "But it is consequential!" Nevertheless, Estian gently nibbled on Cecile's lingering fingers. She flinched momentarily, as if contemplating withdrawal, but she remained, even daring to caress his face with her free fingers, challenging him for more.

Closing his eyes, Estian surrendered to the sensation. It didn't feel unpleasant; in fact, he yearned to continue indulging in it. In that moment, Estian became certain of one thing.

This woman just might be capable of achieving it.

Estian spoke softly, his voice filled with conviction. "You don't need to surpass my accomplishments or undertake more arduous tasks. You can ascend above me effortlessly."

"How?" Cecile inquired.

Estian chuckled. "Like this."

With those words, he effortlessly lifted Cecile by the waist with both hands. Suddenly, the world spun around her, and she found herself switched places with Estian, now on top of him.

"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Did you mean climbing above you literally?"

Estian asked playfully, "What do you think? It's quite simple, isn't it?"

Cecile stifled her incredulity, her thoughts nearly escaping her lips. Thankfully, she retained enough composure to keep her words at bay. Contemplating how to respond, she found herself drawn into Estian's embrace as he whispered, "Has anyone ever had the audacity to take the upper hand with me?"

"No," she murmured.

"You are the first," Estian declared, sweeping back Cecile's hair with a gentle touch. "You only need to do one thing: become the master of the infamous emperor, commanding his every whim. Rise above my notoriety and be known as the powerful villainess who reigns over history's cruelest tyrant. Everything that is mine shall be yours."

Cecile studied his face intently, her mind abuzz with thoughts. After a brief pause, she finally voiced her lingering question. "It sounds enticing, but I struggle to see how it will save me."

Usually, people resort to doing good to secure their livelihoods, don't they? she pondered silently.

"Why must I resort to wrongdoing?" Cecile replied, the conversation growing more complex. Cecile felt an instinctual urge to assume a proper posture, as if she were holding a pen and paper to jot down notes.

However, Estian's hands firmly gripped her waist as she tried to retreat.