I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Chapter 131 Gwenyra Being An Empress

"Princess! Princess Gwenyra!"

"Thank you!"

The lively streets of Camelot buzzed with activity as Gwenyra strolled through, flanked by her personal guards. Four watchful figures stayed closel. They knew the stakes—if anything happened to the Empress, their heads would quite literally be on the line.

Gwenyra's public walks were a tradition by now, something she did weekly—sometimes twice if time allowed. These outings were her way of staying connected to her people, especially during these hard times.

The city folk greeted her warmly, though a few eyes lingered uneasily on the black cross dangling from her neck. It was the marital cross of Seraphiel, displayed openly for all to see. Gwenyra had no choice but to wear it. She needed Gevurah's ear, and this symbolic gesture was a price she paid to protect her people.

While some of Camelot's citizens struggled to embrace the shift in faith, others had begun to accept—or perhaps resign themselves to—the change. Life under Seraphiel's rule wasn't unbearable, provided no one dared insult the Emperor or his faith. Those who did? Well, their punishment was swift and merciless.

Still, Gwenyra's gentle smile seemed to ease some of the tension. She waved at the crowd, her presence was like a comforting balm for many if not most of them.

"Done playing charity yet?"

The tired, familiar voice made her turn. Laura and Jostin stood there, her real guards, back at last.

Her current escorts were a temporary stand-in while Laura and Jostin dealt with pressing matters. But now, they were here, and they didn't look thrilled.

"It's been two hours already," Laura said with a scoff. "Don't you have an Empire to run?"

"Good morning, Laura. Jostin," Gwenyra greeted them warmly, unfazed by Laura's irritation.

Laura grimaced, while Jostin sighed. "One hour was the limit, Your Majesty. You know that. It's time to head back to the castle."

Kamila had made it clear: the Empress's charitable outings were allowed, but strictly timed. One hour was the max. Camelot might be safe, especially for someone as beloved as Gwenyra, but Kamila wasn't about to take risks—not because she cared for Gwenyra, but because she knew Ivan needed her.

For Ivan, Kamila would do anything, even set aside her jealousy.

"Understood," Gwenyra nodded, offering no resistance.

She followed Laura and Jostin as they guided her back to the carriage. Inside, Gwenyra settled onto one bench while Laura and Jostin sat opposite her. Jostin sat straight-backed, his posture almost too formal, while Laura lounged casually, one leg crossed lazily and brushing the edge of Gwenyra's seat.

Not that Gwenyra minded. She'd known them both for nearly five months now and had grown accustomed to their quirks. Instead of focusing on their relaxed attitudes, her gaze drifted out the carriage window.

Her sapphire-blue eyes lingered on the royal palace as thoughts swirled in her mind. After a pause, she broke the silence. "I heard my…um husband returned yesterday?"

Laura shot her a pointed glare, one that screamed annoyance, but Gwenyra ignored it.

"Yes," Jostin answered instead. "The Emperor arrived yesterday."

"I see…" Gwenyra replied, her voice trailing off with a faint note of disappointment.

He'd come back and hadn't even bothered to see her. She hadn't seen him either, of course, but it stung nonetheless. It wasn't that she yearned for him as a wife might—this was a political marriage, after all. Still, there were things she needed to discuss with him in person.

She sighed inwardly. Ivan had been gone for so long in several occasions, and she hadn't the faintest idea where he'd been all this time.

"When will he be leaving again?" She asked.

"You ask too many questions," Laura snapped.

"We don't know," Jostin replied again.

"Thank you," Gwenyra said to him.

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, the carriage taking half an hour to return to the palace. Once there, Gwenyra would be escorted inside, where she would be promptly guided to her chambers.

Her routine awaited—managing the affairs of Camelot and, increasingly, the other cities of Britannia. This was her life now.

It hadn't always been easy. At first, she'd stumbled, overwhelmed by the responsibilities of ruling, but over the months, she'd grown into her role. Slowly but surely, she became skilled at governance. Camelot was thriving under her care, and even the surrounding cities began to benefit from her steady hand.

It helped that some nobles had started to lend their support. Though the work was exhausting, she no longer felt like she was fumbling in the dark.

"P–Please! I just need to speak to the Emperor!"

As Gwenyra walked through the gates of the castle, her attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. A young man stood outside the gates, pleading with the guards, only to be denied entry.

He had warm brown skin, striking green eyes, and a foreign air about him. His desperation was clear, his fists clenching in frustration as he begged.

"You want to see the Emperor? And I want to sleep with the Empress—doesn't mean it'll happen," one guard sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Ahaha! Well said!" The other guard laughed, doubling over.

The young man's fists tightened, his face flushed with anger and humiliation. "I–It doesn't have to be the Emperor… anyone close to him… please," he muttered.

"Let him in," Gwenyra said, stepping forward.

The guards turned sharply, their laughter dying instantly when they saw who had spoken. Their faces drained of color.

"Y–Your Majesty!"

Guilt flashed across their expressions as they hastily bowed, realizing how foolish their words had been.

Ignoring their embarrassment, Gwenyra focused on the man. Her eyes softened as recognition dawned. "You… you're the smith, aren't you?"

The young man blinked in surprise, then fell to his knees. "Your Majesty! Please forgive my rudeness!"

"It's fine," Gwenyra assured him gently. "Rise and tell me what's wrong."

The young man stood hesitantly, his hands trembling. "It's Sam! He's—he's suffered third-degree burns while working, and he's going to die. I've been trying to find a doctor, but no one will help us…" His voice cracked, his tears barely held back.

Gwenyra's expression softened further. "I see. Don't worry—I'll send my personal doctor to treat him."

"R–Really?!" Karna's green eyes shimmered with hope.

"Yes," Gwenyra said with a smile.

"Doctors don't grow on trees, Empress," Laura interrupted, stepping up behind her, not pleased. "We need to make sure our limited resources aren't wasted on trivial cases."

"Trivial?" Gwenyra turned to face her with a calm gaze. "If I recall, Karna works for the Emperor himself, and the Emperor values him greatly from what I had seen. I believe that makes this far from trivial. My doctor will see to him."

Laura opened her mouth to argue but found no words. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she fell silent.

Turning back to the guards, Gwenyra issued her command. "Escort him and send for my doctor immediately. Make sure the treatment is thorough."

The guards hesitated, glancing nervously between Laura and Jostin.

"This is an order from the Empress of Britannia. Do I make myself clear?" Gwenyra said again with a sterner tone.

The guards nodded quickly, stepping aside to allow Karna through.

"Thank you, Your Majesty! Thank you!" Karna said, bowing deeply, gratefully.

"You're welcome. Now go," Gwenyra said with a gentle nod.

As the guards led Karna away, Gwenyra turned on her heels and resumed her walk into the castle.

"She's getting too confident," Laura groaned, a bit irritated.

"Well, she'd need to be, wouldn't she? To stand beside His Excellency, you can't be timid," Jostin replied with a quiet chuckle.

As they walked, Gwenyra suddenly stopped in her tracks. Laura and Jostin quickly followed her gaze, understanding the cause of her pause.

Ahead of them, Ivan strode through the corridor. Walking beside him was Mikhail, who was chatting animatedly, occasionally punctuating his words with light laughter. Ivan listened silently, his focus seemingly unbroken as he walked.

Without hesitation, Laura and Jostin dropped to their knees, bowing low in respect.

For the briefest moment, Ivan's piercing black eyes flickered to Gwenyra, then slid away as he walked past her without a word. Find exclusive content at empire

Gwenyra's hands curled into tight fists at her sides. Gathering every ounce of her courage, she turned to face him and called out, "May I speak with the Emperor?"

Her words hung in the air, but Ivan didn't slow his steps. Only Mikhail turned his head, an amused smile playing on his lips as he observed the exchange.

Still, Gwenyra refused to back down. Her voice rose despite her trembling heart. "We were wed under the blessing of the Goddess Seraphiel, a union meant to lead to a brighter future. But how can we fulfill that purpose if we don't even speak to one another? Without communication, this marriage has no meaning—not even a political one."

"..."

Ivan halted mid-step. His dark eyes slid over his shoulder, fixing on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

Gwenyra instinctively grasped the black cross that hung at her neck, clutching it as if it might protect her against him.

Mikhail, leaning casually beside Ivan, chuckled and shrugged. "Come on, Ivan. Your dear Empress just wants a word. She's been holding things together pretty well in your absence, don't you think? You should at least hear her out."

His smirk betrayed his amusement—this was less about support and more about curiosity. He wanted to see what this rare interaction would look like.

…

…

Inside a quiet, secluded chamber, Gwenyra sat stiffly on a chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Across from her, Ivan sat silently, his expression utterly unreadable. His dark, emotionless eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to speak.

Mikhail stood nearby, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, smirking as he waited silently.

"Um…" Gwenyra started hesitantly, trying to meet Ivan's gaze. She managed to hold it for barely two seconds before her courage faltered, and her eyes dropped to her lap.

Eventually, Ivan rose to his feet, his patience evidently spent. Without a word, he turned to leave. The only reason he'd agreed to this meeting was Gwenyra's mention of Seraphiel—and perhaps Mikhail's prodding. But now, he saw no point in staying.

Panic surged in Gwenyra's chest as she realized he was about to walk out. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand grasping his sleeve.