The Princess Imprint A Traitor - Chapter 31: Requiem of the Imperial Capital (4)
“Such harmful substances must be eradicated. My trusted aides conducted a thorough investigation. It turns out that the narcotic aphrodisiacs were manufactured by a guild overseeing potion shops across the entire capital. They’ve been distributing the drugs through a criminal organization hidden in the old slums.”
“Hmm, is that so?”
The response was a bit enigmatic. Desmond II had already received a report from his first son, Rubio. But Rubio’s investigation had hit a wall at the threshold of the Night Society.
“The troubling part is that the ones who began mixing narcotics into the aphrodisiacs were not the criminal organization, but nobles.”
“What?!”
“It’s truly appalling. As you know, light aphrodisiacs are practically household necessities in the capital. For a noble, who should be practicing noblesse oblige, to disguise narcotics as familiar, harmless substances and exploit the citizens—such behavior is despicable.”
“A monstrous crime, indeed!”
“Precisely. No one buys such products with the intent to harm themselves. They simply believe the claims that it will improve their stamina and give it a try. We must strike down such deception with full force.”
“Who is this noble that dared to distribute these narcotic aphrodisiacs?” Desmond II demanded, his nostrils flaring with anger.
“I suspect it’s Count Hadenfork.”
Eve deliberately refrained from mentioning the Night Society. Instead, she feigned ignorance of the larger picture and chose Count Hadenfork as a target. She even left out the worst offenders—Gigolo, Navarre, and Chansley—opting instead for a mid-level culprit.
“The dirtiest ones are all close to Chansley. If I attack Chansley now, Father will only resist. After all, he hasn’t fully given up on Brigitte yet.”
Eve decided to show a bit of vulnerability.
“Count Hadenfork’s family is an influential noble household entrenched in the capital. Though they’ve produced no competent officials for five generations, they remain firmly rooted here. That alone proves their strength.”
“Yes, their strength lies in selling drug-laced aphrodisiacs, apparently!” Desmond II slammed his fist on his chest in anger, taking the bait perfectly.
“Since I’ve already started this investigation, I would like to finish it myself. Please, lend me the authority to deal with Count Hadenfork.”
“Hmph…”
Desmond II pondered the request. Rubio had already been granted the title of Special Operations Commander to secretly investigate the back-alley guilds. Though Eve was clearly more capable than Rubio, the emperor was still hesitant.
“The times are unstable. Must it be done now?”
“Precisely because the times are unstable, I must insist on this request.”
Eve bowed deeply.
“Chansley is closely tied to Sister Betty, practically her right-hand man. Therefore, the Chansley scandal is already being seen as a royal family disgrace. My intention is to punish the nobles and shift public attention to them. A smaller scandal can always be buried under a bigger one.”
“So, what you’re saying is…”
A trace of doubt flickered in Desmond II’s eyes as he looked down at Eve.
“You’re trying to protect Betty?”
“Yes.”
“You?”
“Yes, I am.”
Eve responded immediately, twice, with no hesitation. Her voice was devoid of emotion, completely neutral. For her goals, she knew she had to wield her words with calculated cunning. She opened her mouth again, ready to persuade Desmond II.
“I’m fully aware that my sister and I can never be politically aligned. But since you’ve already chosen to protect her, Father, it would be foolish for me to defy your decision and invite your resentment, wouldn’t it?”
“Hmmm…”
“As your subject first and a royal successor second, my only intention is to preserve the dignity of the imperial family and support your reign. I understand these empty words may not resonate with you.”
“You understand well.”
“Then how about this approach?”
Desmond II raised a brow, curiosity evident in his eyes. Eve met his gaze directly, placing her hand over her chest.
“Think of me as a daughter who just wants her father’s approval.”
Despite the tension in the air, Eve offered a soft, knowing smile. It resembled the warm smile of her late sister, Rosenitte.
“……”
The smile hit Desmond II where it hurt most—his lingering grief over losing his beloved daughter. For a moment, he was speechless, releasing a faint sigh that barely registered in the quiet room.
Eve said no more. She simply waited with patience, allowing the silence to speak for her. And in that silence, she got exactly what she wanted.
“…Very well. I hereby appoint Evienrose Cloel Hadellamid as the Second Commander of Special Operations.”
“I am infinitely grateful for your grace, Father.”
Eve bowed deeply. Desmond II’s expression softened, filled with affection—not as an emperor, but as a father.
“Eve.”
“Yes, Father.”
“You carried out your mission in Dandelion with great success and even nurtured Yggdrasil. Under normal circumstances, we would have hosted a grand banquet to celebrate your achievements, just as we did when you discovered the magic ore. But… the timing is unfortunate.”
“Please don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’re under far greater stress than anyone else, Father. In such a situation, how could I act like a child upset about not receiving a reward?”
“…”
It wasn’t surprising that Desmond II felt a pang of emotion for his only truly successful child. Eve pretended not to notice his sentiment, gracefully bowing once more before retreating from the room.
***
From that point on, Eve was regularly summoned by Desmond II to attend high council meetings and emergency sessions. She also kept in touch with her siblings, who were preparing for relief efforts. After exhausting hours of work, when she finally returned to her quarters, a thick report on the human trafficking cartel would be waiting for her.
By the next day, the disaster response department—comprised of nobles and members of the royal family—began functioning effectively. After two consecutive days of intense meetings, the palace finally started to relax a little.
However, tension still lingered in the Emerald Chamber. Eve announced the formation of the Second Special Operations Unit to her closest aides and devoted herself to preparing for the eradication of the human trafficking cartel. She reviewed reports and documents tirelessly. During rare breaks, she caught up on her princess duties that had piled up during her time away on assignment.
Despite her overwhelming schedule, there were certain people Eve made sure to look after. She visited Rozenite whenever she could and made a point to check on Snoret, who had been confined to the underground tomb for punishment since Derek’s funeral. Afterward, she would return to her office without hesitation and sit back down at her desk, facing yet another mountain of paperwork.
Eve had practically become a ghost haunting her office. Meals were reduced to scraps of finger food, and her sleep consisted of brief naps at her desk. Her bed remained perfectly made for days, its sheets untouched. Sedella, along with other attendants, grew increasingly worried about her. Whether Eve noticed or not, she continued to push herself relentlessly. It bordered on obsession.
“……”
Drip. Drip.
Drops of black ink fell from the tip of her pen, staining the document beneath it—a fresh report on the total damage from the great fire. Her amber eyes, dulled and unfocused, stared at the figure on the page, which had already climbed into the eight digits.
Drip.
“…Ah.”
It wasn’t until the ink obscured the number that Eve snapped out of her trance. She set the ruined report aside and picked up another one—a list of nobles suspected of being involved with the human trafficking cartel.
‘They’re all as good as dead.’
Staring at the list, which might as well have been a death warrant, Eve felt her mind clear, as though doused with ice-cold water. She seized the momentum and dove back into her work.
Unable to bear watching any longer, Sedella spoke gently but firmly.
“Your Highness, you’ll ruin your health like this. You must rest.”
“Just a little more.”
“Your Highness…”
“The sun hasn’t set yet.”
“You didn’t sleep a wink last night. Your eyes are sunken.”
“I’m fine. I’ve canceled all my social appointments, so no one will see me anyway.”
“That’s not the point, and you know it.”
As Eve kept brushing off her concerns, Sedella’s tone became tinged with frustration. In her eyes, it wasn’t that Eve genuinely couldn’t rest due to her workload—it felt more like she was intentionally punishing herself.
“The truly urgent matters have already been dealt with. Even when she was immersed in her favorite alchemy research, she made sure to sleep at least two hours… but now…”
Sedella’s eyes glimmered with concern and frustration. Seeing her expression, Eve offered a sheepish excuse, tinged with guilt.
“I just can’t sleep.”
But she wasn’t about to give in.
“Why don’t you bring me a cup of Earl Grey? Brew it strong with a potion base.”
“Haah… Your Highness…”
“Please?”
Sedella sighed, swallowing the urge to lecture Eve. As a lady-in-waiting, she knew better than to push too far, though that didn’t mean she intended to let her mistress run herself into the ground without interference.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Your Highness, I’ve brought your tea. May I enter?”
“Sir Millard?”
Unexpectedly, it was a silver-haired knight who entered, balancing a tray in his hands. The tea he brought smelled different from the familiar bergamot scent of Earl Grey. Silvestian placed the cup before Eve with an innocent expression.
“I was asked to deliver this on Sedella’s behalf. It seems we’ve run out of high-quality Earl Grey, so Lady Arpel humbly apologizes and sent lavender tea instead.”
“…That little schemer, Sedella.”
“Pardon?”
The knight blinked in confusion, unaware of the small scheme he had become part of. Eve gave a faint, tired chuckle.
“Lavender is a herb that promotes sleep. Sedella used you to trick me into drinking something that’ll make me drowsy.”
“Ah…”
Sedella was one of the few people who knew how soft Eve was toward homunculi, especially toward Silvestian, her temporary vassal. Eve could only sigh and accept her defeat, lifting the cup and sipping the lavender tea without further complaint.
However, as she drank, she noticed something odd about Silvestian. His porcelain-like cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink, and his aquamarine eyes wavered nervously.
“W-was I asked to serve Your Highness tea… to make you sleep?”
His voice quivered, and Eve finally realized what was going on—homunculi, due to their training in the breeding academies, often misinterpreted a royal’s request for sleep assistance as something far more suggestive.
“No! Don’t get the wrong idea!”
“Of course. After all, I’m merely a temporary vassal… unworthy of the honor of serving the Seventh Princess at such an intimate level… My apologies.”
“No, no, no! That’s not what I meant! I’m saying, I have no intention of using my rank to… claim your body!”
After all, Eve already had Mikael—her one true love.
“I… see…”
“Yes!”
Silvestian, still bewildered, nodded in agreement. After that awkward ordeal, they were finally able to firmly establish a clear, healthy master-servant relationship. To shift the mood, Eve decided to change the subject.
“So, how’s your stay in my quarters?”
“Thanks to your generosity, I’ve had no discomfort at all.”
“If Mikael ever bullies you or tries to assert dominance, make sure you report it to me.”
“There’s no such trouble.”
Silvestian swallowed a bitter chuckle. To him, merely being allowed to stay in the Emerald Chamber as Eve’s temporary knight was already a privilege. Even if he faced far worse than Mikael’s teasing, Silvestian felt he would endure it like a steadfast wild rose in the open field. Of course, Eve had no way of knowing what was truly on his mind.
“As I mentioned before, Mikael can sever the imprint without any side effects. So when you’re ready, just let him know.”
“…I’d like to stay under your command a bit longer.”
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LLily
thank u so much for translating this!! Please don’t drop it, I need to know how it ends T-T