Reverse the Crazy Curse

Chapter 5

I alternated between looking at the emperor’s mouth, which had just uttered those awful words, and his wavering jade-green eyes, before coming to a conclusion—the emperor seemed to see something reflected in me.

Dear descendant emperor. You’re acting all calm, but something is bothering you, isn’t it?

Maybe I could use that to my advantage. Sensing something was off, I began to scheme. Should I try to be cute to get what I want? It didn’t seem impossible.

Stories hidden from history are usually found in the imperial family’s secret library.

Everyone knows that it isn’t a place just anyone can access. However, I had a reason to get in there.

Let’s think about this. Judging by the emperor’s face, it’s clear that Kaortan founded this country. So, Kaortan must have been the first emperor, right?

The Kaortan I knew loved to write things down, always carrying a pen and ink. He was the type who would immediately scribble down an idea the minute it struck him.

There must be records of Kaortan in the secret library that only the imperial family can access.

How did Atlantiz fall? I needed to know. No matter how painful it was, it was my duty as empress to find out what had happened to the country I loved. I may have been reborn, but as long as my memory was intact, I was still the empress of Atlantiz and its people.

I need to get to the secret library right now, and the only person who can make that happen is the emperor, at least for the moment.

Now that I had a clear understanding of the situation, I could formulate a detailed plan. If I couldn’t be the empress, then I would have to make the emperor grovel at my feet. However, just as my simple plan was beginning to take shape, the emperor, who had been staring at me intently, suddenly began speaking.

“Peek-a-boo!” he tried to shout, but it came out a little too solemn.

“Guh?”

“Hmm. A famous parenting book said this is supposed to make babies laugh.”

It was so abrupt that I couldn’t react. At my lack of response, the temperature in the room seemed to drop three degrees.

“Is the author a fraud?” he continued. “That won’t do. I should have him arrested.”

What? What is it with this guy? Look at him, abusing his power all willy-nilly.

I was so aghast that I raised my hand and slapped the rail of my cradle. Only real babies laugh at something as silly as peek-a-boo!

Did you think I would laugh at that?

“Goo goo, ga!”

You can’t treat the lives of your people like they’re mayflies. Shame on you!

It looked as if the baby were scolding the emperor. The temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees. Sensing the tension, a quick-witted servant suddenly burst into laughter, clutching his stomach.

“How funny!”

“Yes, quite funny.”

The emperor was not laughing.

“Your Majesty, Why don’t you try it one more time? This time, the baby is sure to laugh!”

I had no intention of giving him what he wanted. That is, until I needed something. I raised my eyebrow slightly and continued to pout. The emperor circled my cradle, repeating, “Peek-a-boo!” over and over, at least ten times. I didn’t so much as crack a smile. Finally, the emperor slumped his shoulders, looking exhausted.

“Laugh for me,” he pleaded.

What’s in it for me?

“Erggghh?”

“If you laugh for me…”

There we go.

“I will turn this into the most beautiful room and assign a servant to you.”

You’ll do what to the room? I don’t need… I was about to roll my eyes and brush him off when I caught sight of Adele. She stood there looking at me, her hands clasped tightly together. I paused. Her eyes were telling me how badly she wanted this room to be beautiful.

Fine. I’ll do it for Adele.

Laughing wasn’t hard. In my past life as an empress, I had perfectly polished my diplomatic skills. However, it was quicker to throw a punch and negotiate later. Often, the only thing that held me back from punching someone in the mouth and causing chaos was, in fact, a smile.

Kaortan taught me that…

“Your Majesty, when you need to control your temper, just smile.”

I could almost hear his soft voice, like a gentle breeze, in my ears.

I stifled a sigh and sat up straight. Everyone in the room held their breath, eyes fixed on me. Once I could see that I had the attention of everyone in the room, including all the secret guards, I reached out my arms. For extra effect, I batted my eyelashes. Then, finally, I smiled.

“Ba ba!”

At that moment, the people in the room gasped, their hands clutching their chests.

“P-Papa!!”

“She just said, ‘papa!’”

“She must think that His Majesty is her father. The poor baby…”

The servants were all insisting that I had just called him my father.

What suck-ups! That sound didn’t mean anything!

I quickly wiped the smile off my face and began to grumble. The emperor stared blankly at me before muttering to himself.

“The way you frown after a smile is just like Ninis. The only loving and genuine smiles she ever gave were for Garzen.”

Now that I think about it…

In my memories, my father used to call my mother Ninis. That meant my mother’s name was Ninis, and Garzen was my father’s name.

Were my parents and the emperor close enough to be on a first-name basis?

* * *

Agrio hadn’t blinked for a while now. An ordinary person couldn't maintain a conversation for this long without blinking, but Agrio could. After all, he was a member of the royal family, and he possessed the power of the sea dragon.

I must not blink. I can’t miss even a second of this outrageous cuteness.

And so he didn’t. Agrio fought the urge because every moment felt precious. He didn’t care who this baby was, he wanted to shower her with love. This wasn’t just any baby. She was Ninis’ daughter, who had lost her parents at such a young age. It was hard not to feel sympathy for her. He had wanted to meet her as soon as possible, but his responsibilities as emperor kept him at bay.

Delay after delay had kept him away, but finally, today was the day. As he gazed at the baby who had kicked his face, he clutched his chest.

Am I dreaming? How can such an adorable and confident baby exist?

The look in her eyes as she stared straight at him was nothing short of extraordinary. After all, there weren’t many people who could meet his gaze head-on. Like a newborn fairy, her hair swayed softly. She had plump cheeks and sharp, upturned eyes—a baby with a fiery spirit.

In those beautiful, oceanic eyes, there was an unmistakable mix of annoyance, frustration, and a hint of anger. To think, she was irritated by the emperor! The emperor! It was like watching a newborn crab angrily snapping its claws at him. Agrio felt as if he might faint right there.

Adorable! So incredibly cute!

He must tell the entire world about Nisefor’s cuteness. It wasn’t enough to simply spread it throughout the empire.

No, no.

If too many people learned how cute and charming Nisefor was, it could lead to problems. Agrio slowly stroked his chin. Indeed, it would be best to keep her to himself. He would give her everything, while keeping her safely hidden away so no one could hurt her.

If I raised her like that… My madness is flaring up.

His vision blurred red. That was a bad sign. Agrio forced himself to calm his racing thoughts and let out a long sigh. In truth, he had carefully planned his visit to the Sacrificial Palace. Knowing that seeing Nisefor would bring back painful memories of Ninis’ and Garzen’s deaths, he intentionally brought along those he could sacrifice if the need arose.

It was a wise decision.

A self-deprecating laugh escaped him and he straightened his back.

“I will not tolerate any information about this child leaking beyond these walls.”

Every servant accompanying him was a spy planted by nobles or foreign countries. They were worthless and would be disposed of sooner or later anyway. It filled him with rage that they had, even for a moment, laid eyes on Nisefor. From deep inside him, Agrio heard that familiar, sinister voice—the same voice that always emerged whenever the madness began to take over.

Kill them. Kill them all. Tear them apart and crush them. Grind them to a pulp.

The sharp-eyed knight intervened first, seeing what was about to unfold. Fiercely loyal, the knight would rather stain his own hands with blood than tarnish the emperor’s. Even as the sword gleamed menacingly, there was no trace of fear in the child’s eyes.

Agrio found it oddly amusing, but he couldn’t stay any longer. The voices were getting louder, crashing into his mind like waves, threatening to tear it apart. Laughter, sobbing, and curses all tangled together, clouding his thoughts. This was the true nature of his madness.

“I’ll take my leave now,” he muttered, his body trembling and slick with cold sweat as he struggled to calm the rising panic.

The throne had never been meant for him—it had belonged to his sister. If she hadn’t died in that terrible accident, he would never have been forced to take her place. Her son was too young to rule, leaving Agrio to bear the weight of the crown and the madness that came with it. An emperor who had not consumed the sacrifice was incomplete. And so, Agrio remained an incomplete emperor.