Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 138

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 138
“A holy power examination?”
Duke Simour’s silver eyebrows rose slightly askew.
Priests often traveled through commoner districts searching for children with holy power. Unlike nobles, who received blessings immediately after birth, commoners hadn’t been blessed directly by priests, and there were quite a few children with healing abilities who had been left to fend for themselves.
But now was the season of the birthday celebration, and the Central Temple was at its busiest with pilgrims flooding in for holy site pilgrimages.
‘Does the temple have spare personnel to send for examinations?’
“It’s already been a week! No matter how many times I’ve gone to the temple, they claim ignorance, and the administrators just keep telling me to wait because they’re overwhelmed with complaints… Sob!”
The Boatman struck his chest and wept more bitterly, and after a moment of silence, Duke Simour spoke.
“I’ll use my influence to ensure the investigation proceeds quickly.”
“Thank you so much, Duke Simour. I will never forget this kindness for as long as I live.”
Duke Simour sent the Boatman away before he could bow, and as he fell silent with a hardened expression, Rozard, standing beside him, offered his thoughts.
“A week without returning the child. From the circumstances, it feels like someone is impersonating a priest. I’ve heard that slave merchants use similar tactics to deceive commoners and abduct children.”
If the Imperial investigation unit became involved, they would likely suspect slave merchants first.
“But the child is too young to be abducted as a slave. Merchants typically avoid approaching when there are parents actively searching.”
“…”
“Of course, we should investigate that angle as well. But…”
Duke Simour continued slowly with a grave expression.
“I can’t be certain, but for a moment, I had the thought that this incident might share a similar context with the territorial resident abduction case that occurred in the Eastern Territory.”
Rozard’s eyes narrowed.
‘Does he mean this abduction might also be connected to the human sacrifices committed by dark mages?’
They had attempted to uncover the mastermind and purpose, but the dark mage they’d captured alive died, halting the investigation.
Judging by how they refused to speak until the end, they possessed remarkable loyalty. Moreover, dark mages who had evaded Imperial persecution for so long and hidden in the shadows were skilled at fleeing and concealing their tracks.
While Rozard found his father’s conjecture credible, he had one concern that made him speak with a serious expression.
“But Father. If we investigate an incident that occurred in the Imperial Capital rather than the territory, it may look unfavorable.”
“…I intend to move discreetly. If the opponent is a dark mage, we must move even more cautiously and quietly.”
Starting from the barrier fractures… the atmosphere was ominous. It appeared deceptively calm like a still lake, but something sinister was writhing beneath the surface.
“I should release my informants to gather more concrete details about the situation.”
* * *
‘Still unable to find the newborn presumed to be the Saint.’
The Fourth Empress tapped her chair’s armrest with a hardened expression—tap, tap.
Among those born to noble families, there had been no recent cases of holy power manifesting. This could be quickly verified through the registry maintained by the temple.
But investigating commoners and slaves proved far more difficult than expected. Too many of these lowborn people failed to register births promptly.
As the Fourth Empress pondered in concern, a maid approached and whispered something, and her brow immediately furrowed.
‘Habier is… preparing to attend the Academy?’
She had repeatedly instructed her son to cultivate relationships with the northern factions who had been promoted to marquis rank, yet he suddenly spoke of the Academy?
While not quite at the level of the Crown Prince, who was a Sword Master, the Third Prince possessed innate talent in swordsmanship as a true descendant of the Histech Royal Family and currently served in the Red Knight Order. Since war could result in his participation being credited toward the Swordsmanship Department, there was no reason for him to attend the Academy now.
“Summon Habier at once!”
“Yes, Empress Jamila.”
But the Third Prince did not appear at her summons.
“The Third Prince said he would be attending a party today and would visit you tomorrow morning.”
“Who’s hosting the party?”
“Count Loien, Your Highness.”
She, who kept meticulous track of every figure in high society, quickly recalled who he was. Count Loien was a profligate and extravagant man—hardly a useful connection to cultivate.
‘Time that could be spent on swordsmanship training.’
Remembering her son’s resentful gaze and the thick stench of alcohol clinging to him, she drummed her fingers on the armrest with quickening tempo before heading toward the palace where the Third Prince resided.
However, the Third Prince Habier had already left to select attire for the party.
‘It’s pleasant to have come to the Capital after being in that cold, dreary Northern Region.’
The Third Prince reclined languidly, a long pipe between his lips. Exhaling smoke, he blew it directly toward the woman seated beside him.
Despite his crude and mischievous demeanor, women never ceased to surround the prince at parties. Resembling the Fourth Empress, he possessed a delicate yet mysterious beauty that made him popular wherever he went.
As the Third Prince accepted sweets from an Opera Actress’s hand and chuckled, he caught a familiar name in the conversation of the young nobles nearby and turned his attention toward them.
“So Duke Visconti and Deborah Simour are seriously courting?”
“That’s what I heard. They’re apparently inseparable at the Academy too.”
“If the marriage goes through, it would be nothing but beneficial for both houses.”
“Beneficial? Duke Visconti would gain the Tower Master as his father-in-law.”
‘That woman certainly has formidable backing.’
So that’s why she was so arrogant. As the Third Prince sipped his champagne and clicked his tongue inwardly, Count Loien, the party’s host, took a seat beside him.
“These days, wherever one goes, it’s nothing but talk of Duke Visconti. It must be wearing on the ears. Well, I understand—he’s quite handsome and accomplished, after all.”
“It seems especially noisy because Deborah Simour happened to be the Duke’s partner for the coronation ceremony.”
“That’s true as well. It’s certainly an unusual combination that naturally invites gossip.”
“Still, Duke Visconti seems to have ambitions. Considering how difficult that woman’s temperament usually is, he must be quite patient.”
“Well—she’s beautiful enough to tolerate anything, and having Duke Simour as a father-in-law means he can easily forge connections with those proud mages.”
‘She’s certainly a desirable woman.’
The Third Prince recalled the noblewoman’s fierce crimson eyes and reached for his pipe once more. Being endlessly discussed in high society, regardless of the nature of the talk, was far superior to fading into obscurity.
‘My standing is pathetic compared to Behonic’s.’
The Third Prince ground his teeth, thinking of Crown Prince Behonic Hystech.
His mother had boasted that everything would go according to her wishes, but his actual position in the Central Social Circle remained unchanged from before his journey to the North.
‘Simour is an ancient and prestigious house. I want to bask in their glory.’
The Third Prince’s dark pupils gleamed with avarice.
“Yes, she was quite beautiful. Deborah Simour caught my eye most at the coronation ceremony.”
As he subtly broached the subject, Count Loien let out a low whistle.
“Your opponent is Knight Isidore. It won’t be easy.”
“There are soldiers guarding the walls everywhere. What matters is the method by which one enters the fortress.”
The Third Prince pulled his crimson lips into a predatory smile, his eyes glinting wickedly.
“True, conquest might be possible. A woman’s heart is like a reed, after all.”
The Count chuckled, tapping ash from his pipe.
“What do you mean?”
“Until last year, everyone knew Deborah Simour had feelings for Philaf Montes. There were even marriage negotiations at one point.”
“Interesting.”
“Philaf did appear at the Academy with another woman, but no one expected the noblewoman to reverse her affections so easily.”
‘Duke Visconti and Deborah Simour may not be in as deep a relationship as everyone believes.’
The Third Prince enjoyed the party until dawn broke, then made plans with Count Loien before departing the venue. He had taken a liking to the Count—a man well-versed in the gossip of high society and adept at catering to his preferences.
‘Simour…’
Leaning his damp body against the carriage seat, he narrowed his eyes as he gazed through the window toward the Imperial Palace.
* * *
“That day, thanks to you both, I was able to conclude the event splendidly.”
Why was the Third Prince at the Academy?
I felt bewildered at the sudden appearance of the Third Prince. Isidore, who had been walking through the courtyard with me, wore an equally strained expression.
“Since my retainer introduced me to you that day, you must know who I am now. Deborah Simour.”
“Yes. Though I confess I’m uncertain why I should.”
I spoke with genuine confusion, and the Third Prince’s lips trembled slightly.
“What can I say—you’re a remarkably candid lady. I find that quality appealing. You’ve piqued my interest.”
What was he talking about? I suppressed a hollow laugh and glanced sideways, suddenly sensing an ominous chill in the air.
Isidore’s expression had grown colder than ever, radiating the taut, precarious tension of a drawn bowstring as he took a step toward the Third Prince.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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