I Became The Wife Of The Cursed Grand Duke Chapter 160

Meanwhile, in the dungeons of the imperial palace…

 

“No! I’m not the Grand Duchess—I’m Saint Deborah! Why won’t you believe me? Why?!”

 

She banged on the bars and screamed, but it was futile. The guards only watched her with pity.

 

“Please be quiet,” one said. “You’ll be deported north soon. Who knows? The Grand Duke might take pity and commute your sentence.”

 

Tears threatened to spill, but Deborah held them back. She knew any protest would only earn scorn. Losing her temper would mark her as a madwoman, so she clung to her saintly dignity.

 

“You do realize the Empire is in chaos because of this calamity?”

 

The guard’s reply was weary. “Yes. Didn’t the Grand Duchess summon demons with her unholy powers?”

 

Deborah tore at her hair, forgetting grace entirely.

 

“Oh, my God! This is absurd!”

 

She remembered nothing after collapsing at the altar. Yet now, she was imprisoned for rebellion.

 

‘What did I even do?’

 

“Listen, this is a joke! I never summoned demons—I don’t have that power!”

 

“Sure, let’s pretend you don’t.”

 

The guards ignored her tears, turning away. Deborah’s heart raced as she pressed against the bars.

 

“Wait! Where are you going? Let me out—or fetch the High Priest!”

 

“You want the man who murdered the Emperor?”

 

“This is a secret—the High Priest framed me! Free me, and I’ll make you Captain of the Imperial Guard!”

 

The jailer paused, his face twisting in regret.

 

“Lady, staying quiet might buy you a few more days alive. So… goodbye.”

 

Bang!

 

The iron gate clanged shut, plunging her into darkness. Deborah stared at her shackled ankles, sobbing silently.

 

“I’m not the Grand Duchess… Why won’t they believe me?”

 

Frustration gnawed at her. She’d blacked out at the altar, only to wake as the village burned. Before losing consciousness again, she’d glimpsed a figure bathed in golden light—a holy presence commanding the monstrous crowd.

 

‘Was that the real Grand Duchess?’

 

If so, Deborah needed to find her. Only she could prove Deborah’s innocence.

 

“This isn’t fair! What did I do wrong? She’s the one who polluted the land—she should clean it up!”

 

Leaping up, Deborah clenched her fists.

 

“This ‘rebellion’ is nonsense! I won’t take the blame!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall of the Grand Duchy…

 

The capital simmered with tension. Julius’s patience frayed as the demonic legions failed to arrive.

 

“Your Majesty! Crown Prince Cedric has crossed the checkpoint with the traitor, grand duchess Evelyn Van Orpheus!”

 

Julius’s laughter erupted, wild and triumphant.

 

“I knew it! Cedric has finally seen reason!”

 

The Empire was fractured beyond repair. Even with the grand duke’s aid, Cedric’s incompetence ensured its collapse. Now, he’d come begging for Julius’s help.

 

“Lower the drawbridge! Bring my son at once!”

 

The soldiers stiffened. The late Emperor’s “son” was Julius’s bastard—a scandalous farce. Worse, Julius’s words all but confessed to regicide. Yet none dared speak. They hurried to obey.

 

“The Crown Prince has arrived!”

 

Nobles flanked Cedric as he entered. Julius beamed.

 

“Ah, Cedric! You’ve made your father proud!”

 

Power in the Empire split between imperial loyalists and fanatics who worshipped divine might. Julius had seduced the latter by exploiting their desperation. With them—and now Cedric’s nobles—his victory seemed assured.

 

‘With this, the tide is mine.’

 

But when Julius flung open the banquet hall doors, his dream shattered.

 

“You dare occupy the Grand Duchy, sinner? Do you even grasp your crimes?” Cedric snarled.

 

Julius’s smirk faltered. Knights dragged forward a silver-haired figure, her face half-veiled in black. Her aura was unmistakable.

 

“The Grand Duchess.”

 

“How the mighty have fallen,” Julius sneered.

 

The crowd recoiled as the woman was thrown to the floor. Julius’s pulse spiked.

 

‘Now, the ritual can be completed!’

 

He embraced Cedric, who stiffened.

 

“You delivered a traitor to your father’s justice. For that, you have my gratitude!”

 

“Ha.”

 

Cedric’s mockery went unnoticed. Julius was too drunk on power—or madness—to care.

 

‘You vile worm. How dare you deceive the imperial family?’

 

Cedric’s hand twitched toward his sword, but a subtle shake of the grand duke’s head stayed him. He exhaled sharply, recalling the Viceroy’s dying words:

 

“I’ve never denied you as my son. You are corrupted, but I prayed you’d rise above it.”

 

The Viceroy had pushed him to be worthy of the throne. But his mother and these sycophants? They’d encouraged his sins, hoping to puppet him.

 

‘If not for the attack in the Dark Curtain… I’d still be their pawn.’

 

“Hear me, sinner Julius!” Cedric roared, shaking free. “Order your butchery at the Grand Duchy to cease—or face execution in the name of the Cardassan Empire!”

 

“What?!”

 

Behind Cedric, knights formed an unbreakable wall. Julius staggered, then steadied himself, dark energy writhing at his fingertips.

 

“Behold my power, ‘son’! Who here dares claim my life?”