Delphine Inland

In the Parliamentary Empire of Ialtia, there were 1,000,000,000 inhabitants. There were 100,000 witches. And the Empire was dominated by them, but not in an egalitarian way. The world of witches was wildly competitive and ranked rigidly from one to one hundred thousand.

Clea was only in the last estates of witches. Not noble and not by hereditary right. Daughter of farmers, Clea had the honor of being born at the moment in which one of the hundred thousand died, taking her place. This circumstance, called ‘Statistical inheritance,’ almost always concerns witches who are poor or sterile or, in any case, incapable of transferring the inheritance to their first-born daughter.

Delphine closes the book and places it on the embroidered silk blanket. Next to it are her clothes and those of a noblewoman left by the servants.

They are precious clothes, like everything in the room. The electric light of a crystal chandelier illuminates the large inlaid ebony desk, a mosaic atlas on the marble floor, and paintings and wardrobes on the walls. There is a bed with a canopy and a fresco on the ceiling.

On the internal walls, a bookcase containing books and an armory with some enchanted weapons. Magic muskets and sabers, the Third Witch's favorite weapons.

The family aegis, the dragon-dolphin with wings instead of fins, is embroidered or imprinted on almost every object.

Delphine is amazed, but her thoughts return to the book. The family aegis, the dragon-dolphin with wings instead of fins, is embroidered or imprinted on almost every object.

Delphine is amazed, but her thoughts return to the book.

One hundred thousand Witches for a total of one billion inhabitants. A ratio of 1:10,000. A policy of birth control to maintain economic and political balance.

“And now I have become one side of the scale.”

Delphine looks at herself in the mirror. She touches her skin, looking for anomalies on that naked body: small breasts, thin body, and delicate face. It is her features. It is her body. Yet, she is free of age spots and imperfections. Indeed, she seems rejuvenated.

The golden mark of the aegis on the chest leaves no doubt. It is not her earthly body. Similar as it is, that is the body of Viola-Eleonora, Witch of Infection, Third Witch of the Empire, Duchess of Delphine.

The mirror is magical. There is no doubt about it. Focuses and increases the sharpness of the points when Delphine places her gaze. But no matter how hard she tries, her body looks just like her.

Leaving the mirror, Delphine returns to the novel again. She quickly flips through the pages, looking doubtful.

So, have I transmigrated into this novel? How is it possible?

She has read numerous fantasy novels with portals, isekai, or villainesses. She could not even say how many. This circumstance reassures her. These readings were useless to her except to have fun and forget about everyday life. In hindsight, it was a good thing. If Delphine can now be ‘calm’ it is mainly thanks to this culture. And also, thanks to her character.

After all, I have never been an impulsive person.

Despite the tangible evidence, the risk that all this is a dream or the effect of some substance disturbs Delphine. The level of oddness is such that she struggles to accept it.

“Massimiliano, Camelia, you can come in. I have to ask you for your opinion.”

From beyond the massive painted double door comes a cough.

“Your Holiness, do you feel ready? If you prefer, we can listen to you without violating your sacred room.”

Moans follow those words. Delphine imagines Camelia nodding vigorously.

She had not thought of that. She made a mistake. In the Empire, entering a Witch's room without a valid reason can be a crime. Worst so if non-witches enter. Furthermore, Massimiliano is a man but not an official lover. The punishment for him would be terrible.

What nonsense. Follow etiquette in situations like this is the least of my worries.

“I order it. Don't worry. The situation is serious enough to justify your entry. Besides, I wouldn't want anyone to hear us.”

A very special someone.

An exclamation of surprise arrives muffled. A moment of silence follows.

“As you wish, Holiness Delphine.”

Creaking, doors begin to open. Massimiliano enters with Camelia in tow. Now that Delphine takes care of it, even their clothes are embellished with the gold embroidery of the family aegis.

“Close the door.”

“As you—”

Massimiliano widens his eyes. Camelia turns very red and falls silent.

“Hurry.”

Nodding, the two servants obey. Then they stop standing in front of the doors, staring at the ground.

“Holiness, us…”

“Come on, don't make a fuss. You know, Massimiliano in particular, that there have been other occasions. The ceremonial dressings, the attendance at the birth of my children, right?”

“Sure, but…” Massimiliano whispers.

“I need you to look at me. Look at me carefully. Tell me if something is wrong.”

“The fact… we are not allowed. It is your rule. When the ‘other occasions’ happened, we always respectfully looked away, Your Holiness.”

“Ho, to hell with it. Do you want me to believe you've never looked at me?”

The butler is in trouble, red with embarrassment.

“Massimiliano, Camelia, listen. I fear I am the victim of a magical attack. I need to know if my body is as it should be. Did you find me with some strange clothes on or not?”

After an exchange of glances between the servants, Massimiliano steps forward.

“Holiness Delphine. Fearing a magical attack, we have already notified the palace gendarmerie. The Archdevil Shield will flush out any intruders.”

The Archdevil Shield. Hearing that title leaves Delphine surprised. In the novel, it is written about pacts between demons and witches. Some witches harness the powers of demonic creatures, channeling them into trusted men. They are usually husbands and male children, unable to inherit witchcraft.

Yet, in the novel, this specific Archdevil is not named. He is not a blood relative. Delphine promises to investigate.

However, she already knows that such a hunt will lead to nothing. Enemies are not intruders in the palace.

“They won't find anyone, call them back later. For my body instead, do you confirm that it's me?”

“You are you, Holiness.” The butler looks at her from head to toe. Expressionless, although his face is still red.

“Actually...” Camelia shyly steps forward as well. “Honestly, I don't want to disrespect you, Your Holiness.”

“Speak without fear.”

“Thank you, V—Holiness.” The maid is embarrassed again. “Your body seems the same to us, but your person is changed.”

Delphine lets out an expression of amazement.

The maid bows and goes on the defensive.

“Sorry, Your Holiness, I did not mean to disrespect you! What I mean to say is that Massimiliano and I have noticed that you express yourselves differently. You don't seem comfortable in your home. As if those clothes and you—as if you were different from usual. Here you are. But I don't want to offend you.”

“Get up, Camelia. I'm not offended. I asked, and you give honest answers.”

Delphine lets the silence fall. She takes a moment to reflect on those words and weigh the possibilities.

Thanks to the novel, I already know what happened, so did fate accept my words? Did I obtain the chance to prove I can be a better Third Witch? Too much comical, too providential a coincidence.

Yet, no other explanation comes to mind. Delphine thinks back to the house, to the imminent and avoided fight. There, on earth, they will be in panic. They will be worried about what happened to her, and everything else will have lost importance. They will probably be prey to harmful thoughts.

For the moment, I cannot do anything about it. I have to take time and act when I know more.

“Holiness Delphine.” Massimiliano's voice calls the Witch to the room.

“Yes, excuse me. I'm lost in thought.”

“We do not doubt it, Your Holiness.”

“Stop with your Holiness, at least in private. Delphine is enough.”

The servants look surprised and are about to reply. Delphine raises a hand to stop.

“Leave these little things on the etiquette for later. Now I'll tell you something I know.”

Looking away from the servants, Delphini returns to examining herself in the mirror.

“The tea you served me today, in front of my family and the Presidential Prince, was poisoned.” From the mirror, the Witch sees the faces of the servants contort into grotesque grimaces.

“Holiness, poison—”

“Save your words, Massimiliano. You are as cute as you are naive. I know well. Poison couldn't be in the kitchens. Gendarmes and the Wall Witch control the servants and collaborators of the palace. On the other hand, seals protect us from external magical attacks. So, magic is excluded too.”

A moan is what Camelia emits as she covers her face. Massimiliano regains her composure and passes a mustache between his index finger and thumb.

“Holiness. Forgive me, but if controls and seals work properly, how can you be sure of poisoning?”

Delphine turns. She looks at the servant with an air of superiority, the superiority given by the book with all the answers.

“Because it was my daughter, Viola-Maria Delphine, who poisoned me. As my daughter, no one searches her. Not even the Archdevil controls her, right?”

“Your Holiness, Delphine, this is terrible. What you say is terrible!”

“Calm down, calm down.” Delphine manages to speak in a cold, measured tone. After all, she is not talking about her real daughter. Or maybe yes, but ultimately, she is a hateful character in a bad book.

Camelia steps forward and clasps her hands around the white apron over her black skirt. Her tears run down her red cheeks.

“Delphine, if you allow me. What you say doesn't make sense.” She speaks through gritted teeth, holding back visible anger. “The Princess would benefit nothing from your death.”

“Why not? They will inherit my power, lands, wealth, and the title of Third Witch of the Empire. Need I say anything else?”

Massimiliano intervenes, bowing.

“Your Holiness, Camelia means that it would be a senseless gesture. What you say is true, but Princess Delphine will be fourteen in six months. Before then, you will not make the magical will. Premature poisoning would lead to a statistical Inheritance. As happens to the lower estates.”

“Excellent point,” Delphine admits that she had not thought the argument in those terms.

It is unexplained in the book why her daughter acted in that way, risking burning her inheritance. Upon reflection, Delphine finds a satisfactory answer. Madness. The slow decline.

“What you say is true. But you don't consider two fundamental details: the poison itself and the timing of death. On the first point, I'll tell you that this is not a normal poison. We are talking about a poison created in ancient times specifically to combat witches. It is illegal. This poison leads to dementia. It lasts for months, and just one drop is enough. Ideal for making me slowly waste away, pushing me to make a will.”

Camelia is visibly angry but says nothing. Is she a traitor? No, maybe she is just a friend of the Princess. Delphine weighs the possibilities and finds herself feeling sorry for her helpless maid. Whatever she is thinking, she will surely be afraid to express it.

“Holiness. Forgive my insolence. May I ask you for proof?”

“Of course, Massimiliano. Have the Herbal Witch check the cup.”

The butler shakes his head.

“Sorry, but I am afraid the cups have already washed. It is passed several hours.”

“A little bad,” Delphine speaks while waving her hand casually. She reaches the bed and picks up the thick book. “Do you see this?”

The servants nod.

“This is a powerful oracle. That's how it's written. That's how I think it is.”

“An oracle?”

“I hate to put it that way, but do you doubt my word?”

Massimiliano raises his hands in surrender.

“No, Your Holiness, we would never do that. I would like to urge you to be cautious if I am allowed to do so. If what you say were, indeed, it is certainly true. If this is the case, I still see it as tough. There are specific laws and procedures that even you, the Third Witch of the Empire, must follow. No court will take action against your daughter without proof. This oracle—”

“Don't worry about it, Massimiliano. I understand what you mean, that is why I order you two things.”

“As you wish, Your Holiness.”

“While I get ready, I want you to summon the entire family to the dining room. I will confront them. Meanwhile, Camelia, you will lead some gendarmes and the Herbalist Witch. You will search the rooms while we are in the dining room, looking for evidence of the poison.”

The servants nod seriously and take their leave.

Delphine looks at the cover of the novel in her hand.

In the novel, it is mentioned where Viola-Maria keeps the bottle. At the end of her days, the Third Witch finds her precisely because her foolish daughter did not bother to hide her properly.

Hence Delphine's expulsion and subsequent family isolation. The servants prefer to believe in the young Princess rather than the now mad and dangerous Witch.

Moreover, in the novel, the entire family and a good part of the palace gendarmerie die because of the Witch. The uncontrollable powers due to madness have spread the disease across the continent. A so deep illness to destroy the political economy of the Empire, the very basis of its survival. This will make the Witch of Infection a plague across the continent.

But I have enough time available. I can act immediately to avoid this outcome.

I'm sure I'm here for a reason. I have to find out. I said I would do better than the Third Witch, and maybe this is proof. I'm not stupid. I know how to distinguish deception from reality.

This is reality. And the presence of this book cannot be a coincidence.