“Does it hurt? Remember this.”
That tongue mercilessly teased the girl’s delicate neck, and after whispering these words, she sank her teeth into the nape with an audible “aow.” The bite wasn’t forceful, but Erika was sure it would leave a mark.
A moment later, Emile lifted her head, cheeks tinged red, and softly asked, “How is it?” Stroking the panting girl’s head in her arms, she leaned in again, pressing her lips to Erika’s now crimson ear.
“I-I’m not feeling well, sorry.”
Like a startled kitten, Erika pushed the frivolous woman away, her eyes burning with outrage at being teased, but she said nothing more, silently straightening her disheveled formal dress.
Emile watched her, faintly amused, arms crossed and chest out. “What, you still don’t understand the meaning of that gesture?”
The girl didn’t answer, head bowed as she smoothed her skirts. To be honest, though a little angry, she found she…didn’t dislike it. Still, she truly couldn’t grasp the appeal; the neck wasn’t pleasurable at all, just sticky and uncomfortable.
“You’ll understand, someday. Of course, if you decide to follow me in the future, I can tell you right now.”
Emile flashed her radiant smile again, but Erika only rolled her eyes, returned the courtesy with a bow, and strode straight back toward the banquet hall.
Watching the girl’s retreating figure, Emile wiped the lingering saliva from her lips with her dress sleeve. Her blue eyes suddenly wavered uneasily, as if hesitating to share something on her mind.
“Hey, stop!”
Erika froze in place, but didn’t turn around. She could hear brisk footsteps behind her. Emile caught up, retrieving something from the front of her dress— a small badge, or something badge-like.
“What’s this?”
Seeing that Emile’s demeanor was normal, Erika breathed a little easier and looked up to ask.
“This belonged to one of the barbarians who summoned the demon. It felt odd, so I brought it back, thinking maybe you’d recognize it.”
The badge taken from Emile’s hand still retained some warmth from her chest. Erika’s chilled, dizzy fingers could feel the lingering heat.
Sigh, even the coldest girls are warm at heart after all.
Erika carefully examined every corner of the badge, leaving no detail unchecked. “Looks like a very fine piece of craftsmanship, but the fire’s damage is too severe, I really can’t tell where it’s from.”
“This is the most intact one. Stop complaining.”
I’m not complaining; stop asking me then, Erika pouted secretly.
Still, seeing it up close made it clear— even now, the charred, unrecognizable badge reeked of scorched flesh and an inescapable blood stench. She could almost imagine the life-and-death trials Emile and her soldiers had endured.
Battling the southern barbarians to the death, and then watching those brutes dig out a sacrifice’s heart for some so-called evil spirit— the mental strain of those scenes must have been as harrowing as hell itself.
Even living day-to-day as a femme fatale, Erika felt fortunate she’d never personally witnessed real battlefields— thanks to warriors like Emile who fought and bled for the rest.
She really had no right to complain to someone who braved all that while she played her games in the warm court.
“In any case, the craftsmanship is too refined to be made by those Kunozaaba barbarians of the southern jungle. If there’s more than one of these, it’s no simple coincidence.”
If she questioned that befuddled dovish councilor, maybe she could get a lead. But this musclebound woman cut through every clue with her axe— there’s nothing to say.
“I’ll try to investigate further.”
“Alright then. So, where’s the next expedition? Erika, you’ll definitely urge Evelyn to send me out again, right?”
Emile’s not the sort whose brains have turned to muscle— sharp as ever. Without such wits, she couldn’t be the frontline commander.
Erika slipped the badge into her bosom and replied absently, “Since you’ve just returned from the expedition, why not stay in the capital and rest for a while? Take care of your health, and treat any wounds you have.”
Although the execution of Chionov had been prevented and the embers of rebellion had faded for now, who knew if even more dangerous sparks were smoldering somewhere? In any case, having Emile and her Leonis Royal Guard stationed near the palace was wise from every angle.
Emile’s quick return had actually been a surprising help. Half grateful and half teasing, Erika said, “Though it’s a bit late, I’m really glad you came back safely from the expedition.”
“Tch, you’re not a good person either. Who wants to hear that from you? What, are you the duchess waiting at home? Enough, enough, I’m off!”
Seemingly having lost all interest in Erika, Emile turned and walked toward the banquet hall. She bothered others on a whim, then left just as abruptly— what a troublesome person.
At least now she could finally take a short rest. The garden’s night breeze wafted in the scent of tulips. Erika closed her eyes and stretched lazily, feeling most of her drunkenness fade away.
“Hey, Erika.”
At this moment, Emile, now some distance away, didn’t even look back, muttering in her usual cool manner.
Fine, I’m completely sober now— could you not startle me like this, please?
“…Do you have something more to say?”
“If…a year ago, on Evelyn’s birthday, I hadn’t taken you to the court…”
A year ago? Has it really been a year?
Erika recalled the moment she perfectly possessed this character’s body— a memory that still lingered vividly. Suddenly waking up behind iron bars, she’d thought she’d been kidnapped and sold to the mountains.
But since she’d become a girl, she quickly realized she’d transmigrated. It was about a week later, after hearing that someone named Emile la Leonis went to the market to buy a wine-pouring slave, that she realized she’d entered the world of a novel.
She clearly didn’t want to revisit those times. Frowning, Erika watched as Emile brushed it off with a casual, “It’s nothing,” and turned back to the banquet hall.
“What was that? So much more mundane than I expected. Guess it’s nothing.”
Time to clock out! Working overtime is so annoying. Is this what it feels like to dine with your bosses?
Dragging her formal dress from the palace, Erika returned to her private residence in the center of the capital. To call it a residence was generous; it was just a small house with two rooms. It stood away from the noisy slums, peaceful and convenient for traveling to the palace, but nothing special otherwise.
Rumors said “Erika lives in a lavish villa, with gold piled up like mountains in her basement,” but in truth, she had little desire for material things. Too much wealth would only attract greedy eyes— maybe even people who wanted her dead.
Of course, even without gold, Erika faced all kinds of dangers— would-be heroes trying to poison or assassinate her just for being disliked, and, despite her fearsome reputation, reckless men wanting to take her by force.
The title “Enchantress who brings calamity to nations” was born from “beauty that brings ruin.” Anyone who’d met Erika understood that much.
But with Evelyn managing most supplies and security, she really had no reason to hoard things that might cause trouble.
Still, half of the rumors were true. In her otherwise unremarkable house, there was indeed a specially made underground vault. It was a treasury no ordinary person could open— truly impressive.
After checking her surroundings to make sure she was alone, Erika lifted the secret hatch beneath her parlor carpet and, carrying an oil lamp, descended into the basement. In the vault down here were not just enough gold bars to last several years, but something far more important: [scrolls].
Yes, scrolls. She hadn’t read them in ages, but she unfurled one and slowly perused its contents—
[After Chionov’s execution, a rebellion erupts… The Dawn Society quickly rises in the borderlands using Chionov’s hidden funds…]
What was written here was nothing else— it was the plot of the novel “Flower of Evil.” While the details were still fresh, Erika had written down all the crucial developments. This was more precious than any possession she had.
“So, with the Chionov execution arc done, the Dawn Society plotline is on pause for now.”
Like checking off a list, she marked a tiny “×” beside the record with her quill. So, what’s next on the timeline?
Her blood-red eyes, reflecting the flickering firelight, slid down the lines as she continued reading.
[The Hero appears.]
What the! @#￥%……&*
Erika hurriedly rolled up the scroll, afraid even in this morgue-quiet basement that someone might see her.
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