Transmigrated as the Villainess Princess - Chapter 216

Chapter 216: The Goddess of Revenge (6)
Ahcehera sat in the remnants of the ruined council chamber, poring over the scattered records and old documents her team had managed to salvage. The air was thick with dust, and the flickering lights from the lanterns cast long shadows against the cracked walls.

It’s better that we could gain some knowledge from these ruins. But it’s barely enough. The destruction was so massive that nothing was left in this estate.

She had already uncovered the demonic traces in the estate. Now, she wanted to know more about how Duke Ricardo Mors had ascended to his position and why his brothers, all contenders for the Duke’s title, had vanished from history.

The Northern Dukedom had always been a stronghold of power in Sirius Kingdom, and succession was never easy. Duke Ricardo had not been the most promising among his brothers.

Dareth, the eldest, had been groomed to inherit the position from birth. Galren, the second son, was a brilliant strategist known for his military victories at the borders.

Kairen, the third, was deeply involved in court politics, an ambitious man who knew how to navigate the shifting alliances of the kingdom. Vaelen, Erynd, Ronan, and Mylen had strengths and promising paths to prominence. But one by one, they had disappeared.

Ahcehera traced the timeline. Dareth had died suddenly during a battle, an ambush that should have been avoidable, yet all reports stated that someone had lured him into a trap.

Galren had fallen ill with an inexplicable disease, his body deteriorating despite the best efforts of the kingdom’s finest healers and medical technology.

Kairen had been accused of treason and executed after evidence of conspiracy surfaced, evidence that now seemed too convenient. The others had vanished without a trace or suffered “accidents” that left Duke Ricardo as the sole surviving heir.

It was too precise. Too calculated. He must have done something.

Ahcehera flipped through more documents, searching for any connection, and then she found it. It was a single passage in a tattered report from one of the former advisors of the dukedom.

A vague mention of a figure who had always been seen with Duke Ricardo during his rise to power. A veiled woman. There were no details about her identity, only whispers that she had appeared shortly before Dareth’s downfall.

Some claimed she was a fortune-teller, others said she was a healer, while some even suggested she was a sorceress from beyond the kingdom’s borders. But none had ever seen her face.

These things should have never existed in the Interstellar era, especially not when people rarely believed in gods. Ahcehera clenched her jaw. She had encountered too many instances of this woman’s influence in the history of the Northern Dukedom.

The traces of demonic power continued to linger in the ruins, the intricate rituals found in the hidden chambers, the slow, methodical erasure of every obstacle standing in Duke Ricardo’s way. It all pointed to a single mastermind. And she had a name.

Fiorensia.

She was now certain that the veiled woman, the source of the rituals, and the one who had ensured Ricardo’s ascent to power, everything led back to her. But why? Why had she aided him? Only to destroy the very dukedom she had helped him obtain? What had changed?

Ahcehera gritted her teeth and stood up. There was only one way to uncover the truth. She had to find the one person who might know it all, Rohzivaan. But he was nowhere to be found, so Ahcehera left the ruins of the Mors estate with determination burning in her chest.

She had pieced together enough to suspect that Fiorensia was deeply involved in the rise and fall of the Northern Dukedom. But suspicion alone was not enough, she needed facts, undeniable proof of who Fiorensia truly was and what had happened between her and Duke Ricardo Mors.

The answers, she knew, would not be found in books or official records. The council had long been destroyed, and most documents were either missing or intentionally altered. If she wanted the truth, she needed to seek it from those who had lived through that time.

So, she traveled to the outskirts of the dukedom, where the oldest citizens resided. Former servants, retired knights, and elders who had watched generations of Mors lords rule over the north. These were the people who would remember.

She disguised herself as an ordinary traveler, draping herself in a simple cloak to avoid unnecessary attention. The town was quiet, its people cautious around strangers, but she found an elderly woman sitting outside a small cottage, peeling fruit with wrinkled hands.

Ahcehera approached carefully. “Grandmother,” she greeted respectfully. “I seek stories of the Mors Dukedom from long ago. Would you share what you know?”

The old woman glanced up, her sharp, clouded eyes assessing Ahcehera. “Stories, you say? And why would a traveler care about the Mors family?”

Ahcehera hesitated, then decided on partial honesty. “Because I wish to understand what truly happened before its fall. I have heard rumors, but I seek the truth.”

“Truth… A dangerous thing, child. But if you wish to know, I will tell you what I remember.” The old woman sighed, setting down her knife. She gestured for Ahcehera to sit as the sun began to set.

The old woman spoke. “Many believe Duke Ricardo Mors only had one wife. The histories are written that way. But those of us who lived through those days know the truth. He had two.”

Ahcehera’s heart pounded.

“His first wife was Duchess Fiorensia, a woman unlike any other. The moment she stepped into the dukedom, everything changed. She was brilliant, elegant, and powerful. The people admired her, and the nobles feared her.”

Fiorensia! The Duke’s wife?

“She built the strength of the Northern Dukedom with her own hands, standing beside Duke Ricardo as he fought for his title. Without her, he would have never become the duke.”

The old woman paused, her expression darkening. “But then… something changed. One day, she was gone. No explanation, no farewell. Just… gone. And soon after, another woman took her place. Lotisia.”

Ahcehera leaned forward. “What happened to Duchess Fiorensia?”

The woman shook her head. “No one knows for certain. Some say she died, others whisper that she was cast aside. But if you ask me, child, I don’t believe she was the type to simply disappear. I think she left with a purpose.”

If Duchess Fiorensia had left on her terms, what had driven her to abandon the dukedom she had built? Ahcehera’s grip tightened on her cloak. One thing was clear. Fiorensia was not just Ricardo Mors’ wife. She was the key to everything.