The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 155: The New Beginning

Chapter 155: The New Beginning

"Father, is this true?"

Loyd directed his inquiry to the Emperor, his eyes widening with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Luther, maintaining a somber demeanor, merely nodded in response.

The Crown Prince found himself engulfed in a nauseating amalgamation of anger and bewilderment.

Suddenly, the realization dawned upon him – the religious rebellion was initially intended to revolve around him. It was designed to elevate his somewhat ambiguous reputation, overshadowing Damien, whose image, thanks to his active wife, had begun its trajectory toward redemption in the eyes of the public.

And now, was he on the verge of another failure? Was his moment in the spotlight about to be usurped by none other than the seemingly ineffectual and defenseless Angelica? Such an outcome was intolerable.

A sudden wave of rage engulfed him, submerging the prince in its all-consuming, seething waters. Furrowing his eyebrows, a dark shadow climbing up his face, Loyd turned to the Emperor and expressed,

"Even if Angelica’s status as a Saintess, which still requires validation, is acknowledged, it does not alter the reality that the rebellion commenced precisely when Grand Duchess Rosalie went missing. Furthermore, given Damien’s association with the demonic curse of Acme Fever, his innocence also necessitates substantiation."

He then shifted his gaze toward Angelica and added,

"The moment Duke Damien entered the palace, the Imperial Knights began to resist. Hence, it is only a matter of hours before the rebellion is quelled."

Angelica shook her head in profound disappointment, tightly gripping her brother’s hands. She cast upon him a look fraught with hurt, her voice resonating with intensity as she almost bellowed,

"But how much longer must we endure this cycle? How many lives must be sacrificed for the elusive concept of faith, a concept that remains intangible to everyone?"

Still clasping onto Loyd, she redirected her attention to the Emperor, her voice trembling under the weight of uncontrollable emotions,

"Father, you are aware as well. The reason behind the resurgence of the Demonic Cult lies in the illusory nature of the faith imposed upon the Continent. The Saintess they are compelled to venerate is nothing more than a lifeless statue, a mere effigy. The purported Holy Power they depend on is merely the healing magic possessed by countless mages. In contrast, the demons they turn to for aid are tangible entities. Would they not find solace in discovering that there is now someone real, someone who can hear their pleas and extend assistance when they need it most? Instead of bargaining their innocent souls, they can receive aid from someone whose powers demand no such payment."

The princess drew in a deep breath, calming her racing heart, and approached Damien, positioning herself right beside him. Her voice, now composed and measured, conveyed,

"His Grace, Duke Damien, fell victim to a curse—his soul tarnished against his will, powerless to resist. Lady Rosalie Ashter, driven solely by profound love, sacrificed her own soul to extend him a helping hand. However, I possess the ability to aid His Grace now. With the power of my Nadir, I can alleviate the burden on his soul. Therefore, I beseech both of you, Father and dear Brother, to allow me to redeem the souls of others as well. I am confident in my ability to help; I sense it."

A profound silence descended upon the Imperial Hall as Angelica’s earnest words resonated within the hearts of all present. Luther fixed his intense gaze on the princess, a poignant twinge coursing through his entire being, while his daughter’s azure eyes remained locked on him, brimming with hope and anticipation.

Finally, as if grappling with one of the most challenging decisions of his life once again, Luther released a long sigh and uttered,

"I detest myself. I abhor the pretense of indifference, the falsehoods, the emotional distance."

Shifting his fatigued gaze to his son, he continued,

"Issue an order to cease the hostilities. We will present ourselves before the populace and disclose Angelica’s true identity. Let us bring an end to this."

"Father!"

The Crown Prince confronted the Emperor, his face seething with anger.

"Do not yield to such sentiments! It was not a submissive demeanor that transformed this kingdom of Rishce into an empire! We do not compromise; we command, we subjugate!"

"Enough!"

Luther loomed over his son, a colossal figure akin to a towering mountain, his glare radiating with fury. His voice thundered as he continued,

"Nothing befits a ruler more poorly than myopia. However, an even graver offense is the ruler who, despite being blind, refuses to heed counsel. Prudent leaders are akin to the sea, adaptable to the ebb and flow of time. Therefore..."

He redirected his gaze once more to Angelica and concluded,

"May the Empire of Rische be governed by sagacity. I command the Imperial Knights to halt the conflict. Angelica," the Emperor beamed at his daughter, "Let us depart. Let us provide the people with the very cause they are fighting for."

"Thank you, Father."

***

The crowd outside the Imperial Palace stood in utter stillness as the members of the Imperial Family emerged onto the central balcony, commanding a view of the expansive space before the front tower. Some found themselves restrained by the Imperial Knights, while others chose voluntarily to cease their resistance.

The presence of the Rische lineage on the balcony had the intended impact on the assembled multitude. Even if regarded as adversaries, there was an undeniable aura of formidability and respect that surrounded them, as if the very air exuded authority and reverence.

The princess, bolstered by her father, the Emperor, stood with confidence at the balcony railing. Once the crowd acquiesced to the prevailing silence signaled by Luther, she cleared her throat with a subtle cough and proclaimed in a resounding voice,

"Dear people of Rische, I, the first and sole princess of this Empire, wish to declare, devoid of any semblance of deceit – I, Angelica Rische, am the authentic Saintess of the New Faith."

The assemblage surrounding the palace remained motionless and silent for a brief span, before a tumultuous mix of loud and bewildered whispers surged through the crowd like the restless tide of the sea.

She, a Saintess? The ailing princess?

The sudden revelation left everyone in disbelief, yet Angelica stood with unwavering confidence and resolve. Anticipating such a reaction, she extended both of her arms and closed her eyes, allowing the potent forces seething within her body to finally break free.

In an instant, every individual around the palace found themselves enveloped in a subtle white light, the sparkling essence of genuine Holy Power penetrating each particle of their souls.

The exertion of employing a substantial portion of her innate power strained Angelica’s body, yet the outcome justified the effort – she sought the impact of divine rapture, and she succeeded.

All the love and care that Angelica harbored within her heart and soul, she poured into the hearts of the people before her, alleviating them from the burden of suffering and hatred.

And just like that, as her enduring love continued to fill the hearts of those desperately in need, Angelica’s Holy Power brought solace to their weary hearts, bringing an end to the persistent animosity and illuminating the path toward a new beginning.

A beginning untainted by suffering.

A beginning infused with hope.