The Princess Imprint A Traitor - Chapter 31: Requiem of the Imperial Capital (2)

Eve felt her breath catch as the implications unfolded. This went beyond negligence; it hinted at a deliberate attempt to cover up scandalous operations. Desmond II pressed on, his voice laden with disappointment.

“Those ‘warehouses’ you approved—warehouse fronts where illegal trafficking and prostitution ran unchecked—were stocked with coal to cheaply fuel unlicensed boiler rooms. They ended up destroying half the district in flames. And because of your negligence, 673 lives were lost as a result of these fires, with bodies still being recovered.”

A sickened silence fell over the room. Brigitte’s lips trembled as she tried to grasp her next move, knowing the dire position she was in. She could not deny that her connection with Roxandra and the Chancellor had facilitated these illicit operations, yet admitting it would surely mean the emperor’s unrestrained wrath.

Seeing her struggle, Eve interjected, sensing this was the moment to act.

“Father,” she began, her voice quiet yet resolute, “if I may…”

Desmond II turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“It’s true that mistakes were made on my sister’s part,” Eve said carefully. “But I ask you to consider that we must focus our efforts now on preventing further tragedy. The situation with Rosenitte, for example, requires immediate action.”

Her subtle shift in focus hinted at a suggestion: to postpone judgment on Brigitte and instead turn their energy toward resolving the pressing threats within the empire.

The emperor’s expression remained cold as he looked between his daughters, his anger somewhat tempered by Eve’s words. “Very well, Eve. I’ll permit you to proceed with Rosenitte’s treatment, but understand that Brigitte’s negligence will be addressed in full.”

Brigitte cast a glare toward Eve, her eyes brimming with fury at being both exposed and momentarily spared, realizing that her position had become precarious beyond repair.

“…!”

The shock that rippled through the audience chamber was palpable, leaving everyone stunned. Eve glanced at Brigitte, who stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror. Whether her reaction was from sheer surprise or guilt at being exposed, Eve couldn’t tell.

“As we recovered the bodies, we discovered discrepancies in the building’s underground structure,” Desmond II continued, his voice seething. “The layout was entirely different from the approved plans. Look at this!”

With a harsh motion, the emperor threw two sets of blueprints at Brigitte’s feet. Elijah picked them up and handed them to her, but she remained motionless, stiff as stone.

“The basements were filled with strange, unused rooms, twisting corridors that delayed evacuation. Some doors were even locked from the outside. Do you know what these buildings were used for, Brigitte? No one knows better than you!”

Brigitte could only stand in silence, unable to deny or explain. Desmond II let out a thunderous shout, his anger raw and unfiltered.

“The capital of Hadellun is my residence! I will not tolerate such depravity and filth in my own domain!”

The emperor’s fury radiated through the chamber, and everyone, not only Brigitte, flinched at the force of his wrath. Finally, Brigitte found the strength to respond, her lips trembling.

“Your Majesty… I swear I knew nothing of this. While I was away, it must have been Chancellor Marquess Chansley who acted without my knowledge!”

Brigitte had decided to cut ties with Chansley to save herself. But Desmond II’s voice dropped dangerously, his rage simmering coldly.

“Are you saying you were unaware of the actions of your closest advisors?”

“…”

“Incompetent,” he spat.

Brigitte recoiled, visibly shaken by the cold accusation, her entire body now trembling. Eve lowered her gaze, fully aware of what would likely happen next.

‘But even now, Father will shield Brigitte. He’ll punish Chansley and suppress any media coverage to contain the damage.’

With hundreds of citizens lost to the tragedy, the truth about a prominent royal’s involvement would easily turn public sentiment against the imperial family. Desmond II, pragmatic in his older years, would inevitably choose the path that preserved the throne. Eve understood this decision in her mind, though her heart felt far removed.

Unexpectedly, Desmond II turned his gaze to her.

“Eve.”

“Yes, Father?”

“The bathhouse enterprise began with Luciard, did it not? Everyone knows that the Viscount of Luciard is your man. And I noticed in the financial reports that your personal assets have significantly increased alongside the bathhouse project.”

After circling the issue, Desmond II finally voiced his question directly, his tone sharp.

“Are you sure Luciard isn’t involved in these unsavory activities?”

Anais, present as part of the envoy, took a deep breath, visibly tense. Yet Eve remained calm, answering without hesitation.

“Father, I swear, there is no such involvement.”

“Is that truly the case?”

“I have absolute trust in my vassal. Should any wrongdoing be found, I would accept my punishment without protest.”

“And what makes you so certain?”

Meeting Desmond II’s gaze firmly, Eve declared with calm conviction, “My financial success stems not only from the bathhouse project’s growth but also from the foresight of investing in soap production. In fact, the only project I suggested to Viscount Luciard was the soap business.”

“Soap?” Desmond II’s tone softened, intrigued by the business acumen she displayed.

“Yes. Luciard was in a dire situation financially, but he rejected even the slightest suggestion that would compromise his principles.”

“Is that true?”

“I have spoken only the truth.”

Desmond II glanced at Anais, who promptly knelt, her voice filled with respect.

“I regret doubting the Seventh Princess’s integrity. Please forgive my lack of faith, Your Majesty.”

The contrast between Eve and Brigitte was glaring, and the emperor’s earlier anger shifted to exasperation as he looked at Brigitte with a tired disdain, as if even engaging with her was bothersome.

“I hereby order the Third Princess, Brigitte Agnes Hadellamid, to remain confined to her quarters indefinitely. She may only receive her personal attendants and personal knight, and she will have no other visitors!”

This was a clear sign that Brigitte would remain under house arrest until Chansley could be removed from her sphere of influence.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Brigitte clenched her fists, feeling the sting of a punishment she never thought would touch her life.

“That will be enough. You may all go.”

At last, the suffocating tension of the audience chamber was released. As the grand doors closed behind Eve and Brigitte, Brigitte’s composed facade immediately shattered, revealing a raw, furious expression she hadn’t dared show before Desmond II.

“Chansley…!”

She was seething with fury, consumed by rage at the thought that Chansley’s incompetence had led to her humiliation. Her eyes gleamed with a savage light, as though she’d tear him apart if he were standing before her. But expressing such emotions openly in the palace was unwise, and Brigitte forced herself to regain her composure.

Though her character was flawed, her mind was sharp. She understood the gravity of the situation. As much as she wanted revenge, her punishment was minor compared to the tragedy of the hundreds of lives lost. She could recover from this, especially with Desmond II’s continued protection.

‘It’s still manageable. I’ll pin everything on Chansley.’

Gradually, Brigitte restored her expression to that of the dignified, poised imperial candidate she prided herself on being.

“Elijah, we’re leaving,” she commanded, turning to go—only to stop abruptly.

“What? Move aside,” she snapped.

Three steps ahead, Eve stood blocking her path. For someone like Brigitte, accustomed to walking the center of the palace corridors without obstacle, this was an undeniable provocation. Eve’s expression was as hard and resolute as it had been when she wielded her Silver Arachne in Yggdrasil, her gaze sharp as a blade.

“Sister.”

Eve didn’t bother asking if Brigitte had been unaware of Chansley’s actions. The truth was clear from the moment Brigitte had ignored the blueprints thrown at her feet. Eve already knew who the true mastermind was.

Brigitte met Eve’s intent gaze with narrowed eyes, letting out a mocking laugh.

“What is it? Isn’t it a bit late to kill me now? This is the imperial palace, so restrain yourself.”

“…”

“Take a deep breath. That’s what a good little sister would do, wouldn’t she?”

Brigitte sneered, thinking she had rattled Eve with her taunts. But just as she felt a small victory, Eve responded.

“Sister, back in Dandelion, I chose not to kill you…”

“Ha, it’s too late to regret it now,” Brigitte interjected.

“…and I’m glad I didn’t.”

“What?”

For the first time, a hint of emotion flickered across Eve’s otherwise impassive face. She smiled—a serene yet unsettling smile—and gazed at Brigitte, who looked at her in bewilderment.

“I’m glad I didn’t kill you.”

“…”

“If I had, I would’ve had to honor you, dressing up your death with empty nobility like we did for Derek. That would’ve been far too generous for someone like you.”

Eve took a step closer, her gaze piercing as she looked directly into Brigitte’s eyes without the faintest hint of a smile in them.

“I promise, in my own name, I’ll make sure you leave this stage in nothing but disgrace, Sister.”

“…”

With that, Eve turned and walked away, ignoring the palace decorum that demanded she let Brigitte leave first. Brigitte stood frozen, clenching her fists so tightly her hands trembled, desperately trying to keep her rage hidden.

***

As soon as Eve left the main palace, she made her way to her quarters, the Verdant Chamber. Her close advisors were already gathered in the reception room, waiting for her arrival. Among them were Alvin and Julia, as well as Baron Cayden Lafliere, her financial officer, and Calix Limitiel, the young heir from House Limitiel who had rushed over from Gnosis Academy.

“Your Highness, welcome.”

“It’s been a while, everyone.”

There was little room for pleasantries given the gravity of the situation. Eve quickly took her seat at the table, allowing only Sedella and Michael to join the meeting from among her household. She had tasked Peony with drafting the initial report for Desmond II and left Silvestian, now temporarily in her service, under the care of her retainers, Lian and Hugh.

“Let’s postpone discussion on the incidents beyond the Gray Barrier for now. I need an update on the current situation in District 13, where the fire occurred,” Eve said, initiating the meeting.

All eyes turned to Julia, whose family, being prominent in the jewelry trade, was closely connected to the financial and social pulse of the capital.

“It’s a disaster, Your Highness. The death toll is nearing 700, and over 600 are injured. Medical and relief support are urgently needed.”

“What about property damage?” Eve asked.

“Severe as well. The bathhouse and 35 surrounding buildings, including five residential complexes, were destroyed. Here’s a detailed report of the losses.”

Julia handed over a thick report that could almost be bound as a book. Eve planned to review it thoroughly once the meeting concluded.

“Is relief aid proceeding smoothly?”

“Count Reindel and Marquess Limitiel are coordinating the efforts on-site, with additional supplies and manpower being sent by other nobles. The princesses and princes are also organizing relief efforts as part of public service initiatives,” Julia replied.

“That’s at least some comfort,” Eve replied. “I’ll send Peony and Lian as my representatives to assist in District 13 soon.”

After addressing further questions about the relief efforts, they moved on to the next item. Alvin, her loyal aide, submitted several reports to Eve.

“The top document is the investigation into the fire’s cause, and below that are comparative blueprints of the bathhouse structure. We believe the explosion originated in an illegally constructed boiler in the basement.”

Eve frowned. “What kind of boiler explodes while heating water? Unless it was built with military-grade specifications?”

“Well, technically, it wasn’t just the boiler that exploded—the entire basement detonated. You’ll find more details on page 88.”

Eve flipped to the indicated section.

“Chansley’s bathhouse had extremely poor ventilation. The third basement level, where the boiler was hidden, was practically a sealed chamber. Although there was an ample supply of coal, the lack of oxygen caused the fire to smolder rather than burn freely. Eventually, the basement filled with dangerously hot gases.”

“So, the entire basement was essentially a bomb waiting to go off?”

“Yes, Your Highness. When fresh air suddenly entered the room, it triggered a massive explosion. Witnesses described a firestorm, which confirms the situation. There must have been warning signs, but no one detected them, leading to this catastrophe.”

“I suppose those who ignore fire regulations aren’t likely to observe safety protocols either.”

Eve took a deep breath, struggling to contain her anger. She picked up the second report, detailing the illegal modifications to the structure. Even with her limited knowledge of architecture, it was obvious the actual layout deviated significantly from the approved plans. As Desmond II had pointed out, this suspiciously altered layout seemed tailor-made for illicit purposes. Eve’s hand tightened around the blueprint.

“Alvin.”