The Princess Imprint A Traitor - Chapter 30: The One Awakened from the Dream within a Dream (13)

Eve grabbed Mikael’s hand and led the way, running forward in a rush that left no time to climb the stairs through the main entrance. Instead, she jumped up to the second floor, shattering a glass wall to enter.

“Ah, ah…!”

The first thing she saw was a resident of Dandelion, who seemed to have been the one to scream. The terrified woman, assigned to tend to Rosenitte in Peony’s absence, was backing away in fear, stumbling to the floor.

“Your Highness, the Seventh Princess…?”

Next, she noticed Silvestian. The power Mikael wielded as king to summon his kin did not affect homunculi imprinted by the royal family, so Silvestian had stayed behind to look after Rosenitte, despite still being in recovery himself.

“Your Highness, it’s… the Eighth Princess!”

Silvestian appeared visibly distressed, needing to assess the situation. Eve crossed the room filled with thick dark energy to approach the bed.

“Rosie…!”

Rosenitte lay straight on the bed, immersed in the undulating dark energy, like a sacrificial offering on a dragon’s altar.

“Rosie, wake up. Rosie.”

But there was no response. Rosenitte was barely breathing, shallowly and faintly, as if in the throes of a lingering illness. Eve tried to move closer but was restrained by Mikael.

“This dark energy here is exceptionally thick. You mustn’t make contact with it.”

“…Alright.”

Even Eve couldn’t fully grasp the cause. Her amber eyes wavered as she took in Rosenitte’s condition. Others, likewise drawn by the scream, soon arrived in the room.

“Your Highness!”

“Princess!”

Entering were Anais, awakened from sleep; Peony, still recovering; and Lord Morien, supported by the village elder, Helione. Naturally, there was one less-welcome face in the crowd.

“What is it this time? Is Rosie’s mana core growing again?” scoffed Brigitte, folding her arms with Elijah by her side. Ignoring her, Eve looked to Morien.

“Lord Morien.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Just a low-voiced call was enough for him to recognize his role. Standing a short distance from the bed, Morien examined Rosenitte. Even when he tapped her forehead firmly with his wooden staff, Rosenitte showed no response. Morien noticed that the dark energy was concentrated heavily around her head, flickering like a snake’s tongue. A deep shadow fell over the old woman’s wrinkled face.

“It seems she’s been pulled too deeply into the dragon’s dream. Her mind has become a conduit for the dark energy, linking her spirit closely with the dragon. If this continues, there’s a risk the dragon could seize control of her body.”

“…”

Eve took a sharp breath, realizing how deeply this troubled her.

“Why Rosie? She showed signs of improvement through the world tree tea leaves we were using for treatment…”

Then a thought struck Eve, and she turned sharply to look at Brigitte. Hadn’t Brigitte, in her schemes to trap Eve, previously filled Rosenitte’s room with various scents containing sedatives, paralysis agents, and sleep-inducing substances? Wondering if these had somehow worsened the condition, Eve’s gaze hardened.

Brigitte flinched, still haunted by the memory of her recent defeat by the silver Arachne. Trying to hide it, she scoffed loudly, acting bolder.

“Hmph! Isn’t it because she’s too weak? Don’t blame me.”

“If you knew she was vulnerable, you shouldn’t have drawn her into your schemes.”

“Since when did you get so protective? Seems like Rosie’s earned not only Father’s favor but yours as well.”

“Unlike some, I know how to care for my younger siblings.”

“Perhaps you should first learn the proper manners for addressing an elder sister.”

“Only if you’d like to earn my favor.”

“What an impudent child.”

Eve turned away from Brigitte, unwilling to let herself be provoked further. Fear and frustration had pushed her into a pointless confrontation, and she realized her mistake. Sensing the shift, Morien interjected.

“With this level of dark energy, it seems the dragon deliberately targeted the Eighth Princess.”

“You mean… the dragon didn’t spread nightmares indiscriminately but chose her specifically?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

This revelation shocked her even further. Was this an indication that Rosenitte had been chosen by the dragon?

“But why would Ambroxah target Rosie? Why her?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I don’t know, but now is not the time to ponder this. Before Ambroxah completely shatters the Eighth Princess’s mind and seizes her body, we must act immediately.”

At that moment, a painful groan escaped from Rosenitte’s lips.

“Rosie!”

Pain was beginning to consume her, her suffering evident.

“Your Highness…”

Even if bound by forced loyalty, Silvestian’s noble knightly spirit could not simply stand by and watch Rosenitte suffer. He knelt at her bedside, deeply moved.

As if sensing a fresh target, the dark energy started to crawl up his body like a snake. Before long, his face mirrored Rosenitte’s torment.

“Stand back, Sir Millard.”

Eve commanded Silvestian to withdraw, then turned to Morien, continuing their earlier conversation.

“Do you know of any way to save Rosie, Lord Morien?”

“Currently, there is no fundamental solution.”

“We need to at least halt the dragon’s sorcery temporarily until we can find a solution. Our opponent is Ambroxah, known as the most cunning of dragons. Is there any possible method?”

“Your Highness, if I may suggest… perhaps we could put the Eighth Princess into a state of magical dormancy by freezing her heart.”

“…That…”

Morien’s idea was inspired by the magical phenomenon that had occurred when Eve’s mana core was developing. A body in magical dormancy is essentially suspended in a state close to death—death being the only true stasis.

“Indeed, that may be the best way to prevent her condition from worsening.”

Brigitte unfolded her arms and approached.

“Right, we could place her in dormancy or freeze her temporarily and take her back to the capital. Once there, we can devise a solution. We’ll need a significant amount of mana in her core. Since magic is my area of expertise, I’ll take charge of Rosie.”

“You?” Eve responded skeptically.

Though Brigitte seemed unusually willing to lend a hand, Eve did not trust her motives. Those hands, after all, had driven Derek into a deadly trap. Noticing Eve’s wary gaze, Brigitte let out a cold chuckle.

“Isn’t one unexpected tragedy enough? I imagine you’d hate to suffer the loss of two cherished siblings.”

“…Ah.”

With those words, Eve finally grasped Brigitte’s intentions. Brigitte was only feigning concern for Rosenitte to rebuild the image she’d damaged with the Derek incident. Every act of seeming care was just another way to present herself as a devoted elder sister when facing Desmond II. Just as Eve realized this, Brigitte continued her scheme without pause, as if she intended not to disappoint Eve’s low expectations of her.

“There is one matter that needs resolving first,” Brigitte said, her mouth curling into a smile that hinted at something far from compassion. It was the same expression she wore when displaying her unyielding, inhuman cruelty.

‘What now, Brigitte…? Oh!’

As if in answer to Eve’s suspicion, Brigitte nodded toward a corner of the room. There stood Silvestian, leaning against the wall, pale and short of breath.

“Look at him,” Brigitte sneered. “With his master on the verge of losing control, he’s already showing signs of distress.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I am….”

“Shh, no need to strain yourself, Sir Millard,” Brigitte replied in a sickeningly sweet tone. “I recall that Rosenitte used many resources when she bonded with you. The closer the bond, the stronger the shock if the master dies unexpectedly. It’s only natural.”

When had Brigitte ever shown such concern for a homunculus? The hypocrisy was enough to make Silvestian’s gaze falter with confusion, but Brigitte was far from done.

“Whether Ambroxah takes her body or we put her into dormancy, both paths lead to the same thing: her body will be declared dead. In that case, I imagine it would greatly impact Sir Millard’s mental state.”

“…”

“And since you still seem conscious…” Brigitte moved toward Silvestian and commanded, “Kneel, Silvestian Millard.”

Her voice dripped with arrogance, as if she held authority over all things. Silvestian, barely able to stand, managed to obey, lowering himself with great difficulty.

With a sharp sound, Brigitte unsheathed the sword from his waist and held its hilt out to him.

“End your own life now.”

“…!”

Shock rippled through everyone watching, except for Eve, who observed with a cold, detached gaze. She understood Brigitte’s relentless cruelty all too well.

“With your master incapacitated, it would be nearly impossible to sever the bond. To prevent a worse outcome, I permit you an honorable death.”

Silvestian’s gaze dropped to the floor, his expression trembling dangerously. He fought to maintain composure as the bond with Rosenitte continued to weaken his mind. As a homunculus, he was bound defenseless before any royal command; his only choice was resignation and submission.

‘At least… at least the Seventh Princess will be here to witness it.’

He wanted his last moments to be honorable, hoping they would stay in her memory. Trembling, he reached out for the sword, only to feel another hand clasp the hilt, stopping him.

“Once again, Sister, you only choose the harshest methods,” Eve said.

“Your Highness?”

“…Eve.”

Silvestian’s eyes widened in astonishment, while Brigitte’s eyebrow twitched in displeasure. Eve pulled the sword from Brigitte’s grasp and returned it to Silvestian’s scabbard.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Brigitte demanded.

“I will take responsibility for Sir Millard myself,” Eve replied calmly.

“You?” Brigitte’s question held the unspoken ‘How?’

Eve knew the best solution would be for Mikael, as the homunculus king, to sever the bond himself. However, revealing Mikael’s powers in front of everyone, especially Brigitte, was out of the question. So Eve proposed a compromise, her next-best option.

“Once the bond is severed, I will re-establish it myself. That should stabilize him.”

“…!”

No one was more surprised than Silvestian himself. For a moment, his eyes showed a swirl of emotions—hope, anticipation, and, much to his dismay, an opportunistic thrill at the thought of being bound to Eve.

‘This is unworthy of a knight. And yet…’

The purer something is, the more easily it is tainted. Even the pride Silvestian had maintained as a knight amidst the corrupt palace felt as if it was crumbling with shocking ease. His heart churned with confusion.

Eve glanced at Mikael, silently asking for his consent. Understanding the importance of this matter for his friend, Mikael gave a small nod, though he secretly wished to keep Eve’s loyalty for himself.

‘We can nullify the bond later if necessary.’

The real obstacle was Brigitte, whose expression revealed her displeasure without a hint of disguise.

“You already have a personal knight. And yet you’ll create another bond?”

Having multiple imprinted homunculi could be seen as a challenge to imperial authority, and Eve knew this. However, given the urgent situation, there was little room for dispute; this was a rare chance to demonstrate her influence.

Moreover, Silvestian was the Empire’s renowned White Rose Knight, a highly esteemed knight in his own right. For Eve to have not only Mikael but also Silvestian as her loyal knights felt like losing two trophies to Brigitte.

‘A mistake. I should have ordered him to end his life immediately, instead of allowing him the dignity of a choice!’ Brigitte thought bitterly, biting her lip as she realized she’d been outmaneuvered.

“Let’s not waste time arguing. My only aim is to save Sir Millard. If you find me untrustworthy, then by all means, Sister, do it yourself.”

“…Fine,” Brigitte replied, barely concealing her irritation. She approached Rosenitte’s bed, exuding an ominous aura as she began her work.

“Hah, so there is a mana core after all, even if it’s a pitifully weak one. I suppose talent isn’t her strong suit,” she sneered.

Despite her contemptuous tone, Brigitte pushed mana into Rosenitte’s chest, stimulating her core to induce dormancy. Rosenitte’s body began to stiffen as the process took effect.

“Grr…!”

The backlash of the severed bond struck Silvestian immediately. The agony of losing his bonded master was excruciating, an unbearable pain that shattered his spirit.

“Haa… Haah…”

It was the kind of torment that could drive anyone to madness. As Silvestian struggled, Mikael noticed his deteriorating state.

“I’ll restrain him,” Mikael offered.

“No need.” Eve reached out to Silvestian.

“Sir Millard, excuse me.”

A silver thread emerged from her hand—not the usual fine and sharp strands but thick, rope-like threads that wrapped around Silvestian’s body, restraining him from all directions. This was a modified version of her silver Arachne, named the Silver Binding Arachne. As if caught in a web, Silvestian was trapped like a helpless prey.

“Well, well,” Brigitte murmured with an amused smirk, as if assessing Eve’s taste. “It seems you have a penchant for elegance. Didn’t expect this.”