The Princess Imprint A Traitor - Chapter 31: Requiem of the Imperial Capital (5)

“Sure. No need to rush. In fact, it’s better to maintain the imprint for now. It helps present you as a loyal knight directly under me. And let’s be honest—you’re not exactly good at lying or pretending, Sir Millard.”

“…”

Silvestian’s lips moved silently. He wanted to say he didn’t need to pretend at all—that he could be genuinely loyal without faking anything. But he hesitated, afraid his hidden feelings would be exposed, tarnishing the only strength he prided himself on: his sincerity. In the end, as always, he swallowed his words.

“Even if it’s only temporary, I’m delighted to have a knight as exceptional as you by my side. I look forward to working with you. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you for your kindness. As your knight, I will serve you with all my heart.”

A mix of joy and sadness flickered in Silvestian’s eyes. The time he would spend in the Emerald Chamber would undoubtedly be like a dream. But all dreams must end, and when this one did, Silvestian wondered if he could endure the inevitable fall back to reality. He already felt uncertain about his strength to withstand it.

Eve, on the other hand, felt a similar heaviness. With the oppressive direct-knight system still firmly in place, sending Silvestian back to Rozenite would be heartless.

Once the conversation ended, Eve quickly returned to her paperwork. Work was the best way to banish unnecessary thoughts. But whether it was a side effect of the lavender tea or sheer exhaustion, her eyes grew dry, and her head felt unusually heavy. Despite that, true sleep still eluded her.

She regretted downing the tea in one go and pressed her fingertips against her eyelids and temples to relieve the tension.

It was then that Silvestian, still lingering nearby, spoke with evident concern.

“You seem terribly fatigued, Your Highness.”

“I only look tired. I’m not sleepy at all.”

“I heard you’ve only been getting light naps for several days. Perhaps it’s time to rely on sleep magic for proper rest?”

“I’ve still got work to do.”

“Your Highness, if you keep this up, you’ll collapse.”

“…That would be nice.”

The words slipped out before Eve even realized it. Only when she noticed Silvestian’s blue eyes widening did she realize her mistake.

“Thank you for the tea. You should get some rest now.”

Eve quickly cut him off before Silvestian could respond. Frustrated with his lack of tact, Silvestian blamed himself for not knowing how to handle moments like this. He hesitated for a second but decided to leave her with one final remark.

“Your Highness, you are a fair and generous person. Please… be just as kind to yourself.”

“……”

Eve’s hand froze mid-sentence. Silvestian’s words hit the very core of her current state—she had indeed been punishing herself, driven by emotional turmoil.

Clack. The door clicked shut, hiding Silvestian from view.

“Haa… Even Sir Millard noticed…”

For even Silvestian, second only to Hue in his obliviousness, to catch on meant that her struggle had become far too obvious. Left alone, Eve covered her eyes with her hand, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her—as though someone had laid bare her most vulnerable thoughts.

Her father, Desmond II, had always taught her that if she wanted to become emperor, she must maintain strict self-discipline. Yet here she was, doing exactly the opposite.

Lost in self-reproach, Eve sat in a daze for quite some time, wallowing in her perceived weakness.

“Eve.”

“……”

“Eve?”

“……”

“Hm…”

“……”

A deep, velvety voice brushed against her ears, soft and inviting. But her half-submerged consciousness, dulled by exhaustion, failed to respond. The owner of the voice moved closer, leaning down until their breath ghosted over the curve of her ear.

“Eve.”

“H-Huh?!”

Her eyes, previously glazed over, snapped into focus as she jolted in her seat. With a start, Eve turned around to find Mikael standing there, his presence still carrying the crisp scent of the autumn air. He had just returned from a secret mission outside the palace, where he had been assisting Alben’s investigation under Eve’s orders for the past two days.

“You scared me!”

“I’m the one who should be surprised. A scream instead of a soft moan? Quite the reaction.”

“Mikael…”

“Sorry. But really, what were you thinking about that you didn’t even notice someone entering the room? I knocked and announced myself.”

“…It’s nothing,” Eve mumbled, her gaze drifting away. Her expression was undeniably gloomy.

Mikael, seeing his lover for the first time in a day, immediately noticed something was off. His sharp violet eyes naturally took on a watchful glint. He studied her tired face, her dark circles, and the redness in her eyes. Casually leaning against the desk, he let his gaze wander over the mountain of documents.

His eyes stopped at the victim tally report, where black ink had dripped like bloodstains onto the paper.

Noticing this, Eve hastily gathered and stacked the documents, as though trying to hide them. Her movements were graceful, almost natural—but not enough to fool Mikael.

“Hmmm…”

It was impossible for someone as perceptive as Mikael to miss the state of his beloved, especially after living through two lifetimes. His violet eyes darkened.

‘I shouldn’t have wasted time outside arguing with Redmond’s heir over stupid rankings.’

He recalled how the servants he had passed on his way here had looked particularly troubled. Now he knew why. It was fortunate that he realized it before things spiraled further.

Mikael finally spoke, his approach different from Sedella’s or Silvestian’s.

“If you have a lot of work, then you should do it properly.”

“Mikael?”

“My Eve… do whatever you want. All of it.”

“…”

His reaction was so different from the others that Eve found herself utterly bewildered. Before she could decide how to respond, Mikael continued, his voice calm but laced with a hidden challenge.

“But you seem to be putting off the most important task while focusing on everything else.”

“What?”

It was true that Eve had been trying to do everything herself, but she had never ignored the priority or importance of her tasks. The harsh assessment confused her. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, Mikael’s voice turned warm, soothing, and persuasive.

“If you’re willing, why don’t we visit the 13th District together?”

“…”

Eve’s shoulders tensed. Her instinctive urge to argue disappeared in an instant. The mention of the great fire’s disaster site struck a nerve. She had been avoiding it out of an unspoken fear. Mikael had seen straight through her.

Eve inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly as if bracing herself. She looked at Mikael and, after a brief hesitation, extended her hand toward him, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“Okay… let’s go.”

She believed that as long as he was with her, she could face it.

***

The site of the massive fire, accompanied by explosions and a firestorm, was nothing short of a wasteland. Like a vast funeral hall, memorial flowers were placed along the pathways, and the sounds of people sobbing filled the air. In the heavy atmosphere, only the ashes of the ruins swirled in the wind, resembling the wandering souls of the victims.

Chansley’s public bathhouse had partially collapsed due to the explosion, leaving nearly half of it in ruins. The place, now resembling an archaeological site, was the center of an ongoing search for bodies. Intact corpses were rare. Especially in the basement, which had essentially become a crematorium, workers often had to sweep up bone fragments.

In the distance, a plaza was lined with tents alongside relief shelters. It was a temporary living space for those who had lost their homes and possessions in the fire. “Temporary” was just a word—recovery could take weeks, perhaps even months. And as if mocking their suffering, the season was growing colder. The faces of the citizens receiving winter clothing and evening meals were cast in deep shadows.

Sorrow, despair, and suffering were everywhere. Yet, the autumn sky that afternoon was high and blue—too clear for such tragedy.

“…….”

It felt as if an unseen hand was pressing against Eve’s chest. She struggled to breathe.

“Eve, are you okay?”

“…….”

“Eve.”

“I-I’m fine.”

Contrary to her words, her face was pale. Still, she didn’t look away from the scene of District 13. There was no point—hell was all around her, and there was nowhere for her gaze to escape.

Eve inhaled shakily, as if gulping down air. Her chest rose and fell unsteadily. It had taken immense courage to face this place. It was as if she were witnessing the consequences of her own sins.

“Mikael.”

“Yes, Eve?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this.”

At those words, Mikael searched his memory. The incident had happened before he left the training facility, so he only recalled fragmented details.

Was she grieving over a fate that had repeated itself? But if that were the case, the despair weighing on Eve seemed far too great—it was as if it was breaking her. As Mikael hesitated, unsure of what to say, Eve spoke again.

“But this time… far more people have died and been injured than before.”

“…….”

“I knew this would happen, yet I couldn’t stop it. And worse… I… I didn’t come back for this….”

Her voice trembled with self-loathing and guilt. Her breath grew shallow. Unable to bear it, Eve pressed her hands to her contorted face.

She hadn’t returned to see this. She hadn’t lived again to witness this devastation.

Was this the result of the choices she had made in this life? If so, was this what her cause amounted to? If she justified it as “the sacrifice of the few for the greater good,” how was she any different from Brigitte?

Dark, unhealthy thoughts gnawed away at her mind. The despair and guilt weighing solely on her shoulders were too overwhelming—so much so that she felt as if she might suffocate.

But at least, for now, Mikael was by her side.

“Eve, if you must resent someone, resent me. I’m the one who brought you back.”

“…Why would I resent you? Mikael, you gave me a chance.”

Eve lifted her head in defiance. Mikael, ensuring no cold air slipped through, carefully fastened the front of her robe and said,

“Then you shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself for trying to make the most of that chance.”

“…….”

“Your return… was simply my wish for you to live again. It wasn’t to burden you with some grand mission or duty. Just think of it simply.”

“Simply?”

Mikael gestured toward the desolate and agonizing scene surrounding them.

“None of this is your fault. It’s the Third Princess’s doing—she grew even more ruthless just to fight against you. So don’t turn all this guilt inward. Instead, direct your anger at her.”

“Ah.”

Anger gave people the strength to fight. The moment she realized this, Eve’s eyes flickered with renewed clarity.

“…You’re right. Channeling this feeling into pushing Brigitte down would be far more productive.”

“Exactly. That’s how you survive to the end on the battlefield. And the imperial palace is your battlefield.”

Mikael taught Eve how to shift blame onto others, and she learned it well. For her, it was invaluable advice. She muttered to herself, as if reaffirming her resolve.

“Yeah, I must’ve been too sentimental. Just because I returned doesn’t mean I can control everything. The brief moment I became a pivot for time… I let it fool me into thinking I was the axis of the world. That was arrogance.”

“Hmm, I can’t quite agree with that. To me, you are the center of the world.”