I Possessed The Immoral Empress - Chapter 35

The next day, two project proposals arrived at Henry’s office.

One was a proposal written neatly on paper with intricate embossing, adorned with elegant patterns.

The other was a plain sheet of paper, featuring somewhat more casual handwriting.

Henry, with a biased gaze towards Valliere, hoping that her proposal would be more splendid, began reading her extravagant proposal first.

From the opening ceremony to the closing, Valliere’s proposal adopted a flawless format with no apparent flaws.

During the day, nobles would ride elaborately decorated carriages through the city, providing entertainment to the capital’s citizens. At night, in an unprecedented fashion, amidst a magnificent fireworks display, Emperor Henry and Valliere would appear on the streets, scattering flower petals imbued with temple blessings among the gathered crowd.

In the meantime, various street performances and cultural events would be held to console the hearts of the weary citizens.

It could be said that this proposal followed the traditional conventions of events. Furthermore, the idea of openly hosting music concerts and exhibitions that the common people typically wouldn’t have access to seemed rather innovative in its own right.

‘Hmm. It seems she put quite a bit of thought into this. I should consider incorporating street performances by the temple’s choir. Besides, there are quite a few nobles who sponsor excellent musical ensembles, so we should be able to secure some support.’

Henry, feeling somewhat reassured by Valliere’s proposal, began reading Ermedeline’s proposal.

‘What in the world is this…’

Ermedeline’s proposal completely defied Henry’s expectations from the very first line.

First of all, the handwriting appeared much freer than usual, and it seemed like no calligraphy had been used at all.

[Personally, I would like to request the cancellation of most of the Foundation Day events. At this point, with the pandemic not completely under control, holding large gatherings can pose a risk of the disease spreading among people.]

‘Cancellation of the events?’

Foundation Day was the grandest celebration of all national holidays, serving not only as a showcase of imperial dignity to the people but also commemorating the establishment of the Trivian Empire.

Even during times of war with hostile nations or more severe epidemics, Foundation Day events had never been canceled. What kind of absurd suggestion was this?

[Infectious diseases spread rapidly in densely populated cities where people gather. People can transmit diseases. Of course, dirty water and seawater can also be primary sources of infection. So, for this year’s Foundation Day, I would like to minimize gatherings of the people and instead distribute relief supplies to them with the budget. We should also clean the sewage system running beneath the city. Perhaps we could even hold an event where rewards are given for catching rats.]

Ermedeline had tried to write her proposal in line with the common sense of this place, and her efforts were well received by Henry.

At first, he had thought it was an outlandish suggestion, but as he read further, he felt the sincerity in the words written in this simple proposal.

‘It’s unconventional, but not entirely wrong… Should I consider the opinions of the ministers instead?’

Henry didn’t reveal whose opinion it was and decided to present both proposals to the ministers who managed state affairs.

“This is a fantastic proposal! I have a first-class symphony orchestra at my disposal, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to introduce the people to culture on this occasion. Of course, we may not be able to cater entirely to the level of the common folk, but it’s worth considering,” one of the ministers enthusiastically commented.

Led by the Duke of Ilyenian, the conservative faction among the nobles mostly favored Valliere’s proposal.

“Seawater relief? Are you seriously considering such a solemn thing on national holiday?” one of them remarked disapprovingly.

On the other hand, Ermedeline’s proposal faced outright opposition.

“What do you think, Sir?” Henry asked, turning to Duke Batistian, who sat quietly as if pondering something.

“Well, opening up culture does have its appeal. After all, the people living in the capital of the Trivian Empire should have access to some level of cultural life, which could also enhance the empire’s dignity. However…”

Duke Batistian paused for a moment, and all eyes in the meeting room turned to him, awaiting his continuation.

“It seems like cleaning the sewage system and providing relief from seawater is not a bad idea. For the people, the disappearance of a threatening epidemic would be a greater joy than extravagant celebrations,” Duke Batistian remarked.

Most of the nobles furrowed their brows in response to Duke Batistian’s words as if they found them distasteful. However, a few nobles with a more pragmatic viewpoint nodded in agreement.

To ensure fairness and avoid any influence due to his preferences, Henry decided to conduct a secret vote among the ministers, excluding himself from the process.

The result was a narrow victory for Valliere.

While he had anticipated this outcome to some extent, Henry couldn’t help but feel a sense of bitterness as a ruler.

‘It appears that the display of authority takes precedence over the safety of the people…’

“Understood. I will respect the choices of my ministers and consider how to integrate them with the other opinions.”

Henry first sought out Ermedeline.

“I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Yes. Truth be told, I wanted to make it more splendid since you gave me the opportunity, but the safety of the people is my top priority.”

“That’s true. However, your proposal was rejected by the ministers’ vote.”

“I see, well, there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“But I don’t want to completely disregard your opinion. Is there any way to hold the event safely, despite the circumstances?”

Henry was relieved that Ermedeline hadn’t completely dismissed the importance of the people’s safety, and she provided a very sensible response.

“We should station soldiers at all entrances to the event venue to screen for people with symptoms and their companions. Additionally, since the disease can be transmitted through saliva, it would be wise to thoroughly cover the nose and mouth.”

“That’s a good point. Even the doctors wear such masks…”

‘Masks? They don’t have the word “mask” here, do they?’

Ermedeline nodded in agreement, seemingly approving of the term “mask” as she considered Henry’s words.

“If we call it a masquerade where everyone wears masks, there might be less resistance. We could even make the theme of this year’s Foundation Day the Masked Ball. We can allow the eyes to remain uncovered but enforce a strict rule of covering the nose and mouth.”

“That’s right. If the nobles and aristocrats voluntarily wear masks first, the common people may follow suit without the need for coercion.”

“Yes! That’s the plan! Regardless of Foundation Day, I would like to proceed with the sewage system maintenance and seawater relief project. After all, hygiene ultimately creates a healthy environment.”

Henry had his doubts about Ermedeline’s sincerity in considering the people’s safety, but for now, he decided to accept her suggestion and proceeded to announce that this year’s Foundation Day would be themed as a Masked Ball.

He then went to find Valliere.

“You proposed an excellent proposal, and your suggestion has been approved.”

Valliere nodded with an air of expected success, wearing a serene smile.

‘What could an orphanage alumna possibly know about organizing events? You should have at least attended one before planning.’

“Especially the fact that the nobles are willing to showcase high culture to the public seems favorable.”

“Of course. Enjoying culture is a privilege of civilized people, isn’t it? There’s nothing like it to establish authority among the ruling class and inspire admiration.”

Whenever words like “privilege” or “ruling class” came out of Valliere’s mouth, Henry made a conscious effort to block his ears and ignore them.

“But it seems like the epidemic is a concern. So, after thinking it through, I decided that everyone should wear masks when attending.”

“Masks?”

“Yes. If the nobility and aristocrats wear them first, the common people will follow suit…”

“Nobles have to wear them too? Even during the procession?”

“Of course. Wearing them during the procession will make it more likely for the common people to follow suit…”

“No, seriously, who here in the palace is going to catch a disease? I don’t want to wear one. Tell it to those people with poor hygiene!”

Valliere was furious at Henry’s indifference. As a marchioness and for the first time she would stand before the common people, how could they ask her to wear a mask? She should be more splendid and beautiful than anyone there, even more so than Empress Ermedeline.

Meanwhile, Henry’s attempt to maintain composure in the face of Valliere’s reaction was starting to waver. Why were they so different in their perspectives?

The responses of the two women were starkly divided.

In the past, Valliere would typically represent the virtuous side, while Ermedeline leaned toward the darker aspects of things. However, now, both women have taken positions that were completely opposite to their previous selves.

Valliere, who had lived in the world of virtue, and Ermedeline, who had lived in the world of darkness, were gradually shifting their positions.

Both of them now lived in a world of gray.

Ermedeline, who had voluntarily taken on the task of supplying masks, felt a sense of fulfillment. While performing good deeds was necessary for the sake of saving lives, deep down, she was also concerned about her involvement in something she had not committed herself.

Finally, an opportunity had come for Ermedeline to atone, even if only slightly, for the sins committed by the previous owner of her body.

While she couldn’t completely cancel the event, if they could minimize the exchange of saliva, they might be able to prevent a second wave of the epidemic.

There was barely a month left until Foundation Day.

Ermedeline immediately contacted renowned artisans in the capital and planned to meet with Félio to execute the corresponding budget.

“It seems like you’ve been meeting with Duke Batistian’s son quite frequently these days,” Rooney commented.

Ermedeline responded with a subtle, ambiguous smile.

Félio was undoubtedly a capable lawyer and magician, so he must have been quite busy with his work. Ermedeline felt guilty for frequently summoning him for personal matters.

“Is that so? It seems like I should hire someone separately. I can’t just keep asking him to handle my finances forever,” Ermedeline said.

So, when Félio visited her late in the afternoon, Ermedeline asked him to recommend someone to manage her finances.

“If that happens, you won’t need to visit the palace every day, and you’ll have more free time,” Ermedeline said, trying to show consideration for Félio. However, Félio didn’t seem particularly pleased.

“Don’t you like the work I do?” he asked.

“No, it’s not that… I just felt bad for summoning you all the time…”

“You don’t need to feel sorry. I’m not helping because I like it. I’m doing it to help for the common good, hoping it won’t be used for some nefarious plan,” Félio said.

Félio was secretly anxious that he couldn’t say he wanted to stay by her side for as long as possible, even though he didn’t know when it would happen, so he resorted to suddenly concocting lies to avoid revealing his true feelings. Ermedeline, on the other hand, believed his words completely.

“I see. Well, who would willingly help a public enemy like me,” Ermedeline said, her face growing noticeably darker.

As he saw Ermedeline’s expression darken, Félio was seized by the urge to tear his lips apart for not knowing how to handle the situation properly.

‘I can’t even come up with a convincing reason. I’m such a fool, pretending to be the Empire’s top scholar…’

“But still, I feel really sorry for bothering you all the time, even though you must be busy with your own work. So, if you could recommend someone reliable whom I can trust, and we can have a system where I receive reports…”

“No, it’s not possible.”

Once again, in his desperation, Félio’s response was like a sharp blade, completely different from what he truly felt.

“I, I mean, that is… In the Empire, there’s no one else who can handle the work as efficiently and accurately as me. If I had to recommend someone, it would have to be me,” Félio said.

Although he initially stumbled over his words, Félio was quite satisfied with his current response.

Because, unlike his previous response, this one was not an exaggerated lie but the complete truth.

However, while Félio was feeling triumphant, a subtle expression crossed Ermedeline’s face.

“Félio…”

Ermedeline narrowed her eyes, lowered her chin, and called Félio in a low voice.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I think… the illness might be quite severe.”

“Illness? Why all of a sudden…”

Ermedeline’s words left Félio puzzled and concerned.

The mention of an illness came out of nowhere, and Félio couldn’t make sense of it. He wondered if Ermedeline was feeling unwell somewhere, causing his heart to drop and then race repeatedly.

“Your Majesty! Where are you feeling unwell?”

Félio unintentionally raised his voice.

“No, not me.”

“Huh?”

“I mean you. You.”

“Me?”

Félio was utterly perplexed by Ermedeline’s words.

“Yes.”

Ermedeline nodded with a sinister yet endearing smile.

Judging by her expression, it didn’t seem to be anything serious, but Félio was still curious about what she was going to say next. He met her gaze with an inquisitive look.

“Do you mean to say that I have some illness?”

She wanted to say “Prince Charming Syndrome!” but held back, and Ermedeline hesitated for a moment.

She didn’t think it was the right word to use in a place that actually has a caste system.

‘It needs to be something that’s clear, that’s instantly recognizable, and that’s childish enough to pack a punch.’

After a moment of silence, Ermedilin lifted her chin in a smug expression.

“A pretentious illness!”