The Princess Imprint A Traitor - Chapter 32: The Nocturnal Salon (3)

The sage cast a brief glance at Mikael before speaking, her tone casual, as if recalling an old story.

“Before I explain, let me tell you something first. In the past life, I deceived the King of the Homunculi.”

Mikael’s gaze sharpened. The sage continued undeterred.

“Only right before performing the regression ritual did I inform him that he could never be the anchor of time.”

Eve gasped and turned to Mikael.

“Mikael… I’ll apologize on my master’s behalf. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s in the past.”

The sage pressed on.

“The Philosopher’s Stone is bound by ownership—it can only be used as a sacrifice by those of imperial blood. That’s why you, Eve, had to be set as the anchor of time. However, you were not the only suitable candidate. In fact, there was someone even more fitting, someone who was alive and breathing at the time.”

“Rosie.”

It wasn’t even surprising.

Eve looked at her sleeping half-sister in the center of the chamber, her expression unreadable. The sage continued.

“Ambrosia must have realized this. That’s why it awakened Rosie’s past-life memories.”

“It gave Rosie her past memories…?”

“Humans are creatures of habit—they repeat the same mistakes. If you overlay a person with their past emotions and experiences, they are more likely to make the same choices again. In that sense, I suppose one could call this a curse after all.”

“Then….”

The verdict fell like a death sentence.

“Your sister has likely already regained her past-life memories.”

“Ah…”

For a moment, Eve forgot how to breathe.

She had hoped, foolishly, that her sister wasn’t cursed. But now she was faced with something far worse—Rosenitte had become the Belladonna of the empire once again.

This wasn’t a curse that could be broken by slaying Ambrosia. The memories belonged to Rosenitte herself.

And there was no way to erase them.

Short-term memories could be suppressed, perhaps, but erasing eight years of experiences would be equivalent to lobotomizing her.

On top of that, Rosenitte’s hibernation had its limits. Healers had warned that keeping her in this state for more than a month would put severe strain on her body, possibly leading to real death.

Time was running out.

Soon, Eve would have no choice but to face a Rosenitte who carried the memories of her past self.

‘If the Rosenitte of this life is completely overtaken by the Rosenitte of the past…’

A phantom voice whispered in Eve’s ears.

—Sister, do you know the meaning of the belladonna flower?

—Ah, so you finally died?

“…….”

The venomous voice of her younger sister echoed in her mind, sending a chill down her spine. Her palms grew slightly damp. Looking back, that death had left a deep scar—one of the strongest traumas of her past life.

A cold voice snapped her back to reality.

“Then a decision must be made.”

Mikael’s violet eyes gleamed with sharp determination.

“We must kill the Eighth Princess.”

“Mikael.”

“You cannot be the one to die.”

Mikael was firm.

The Rosenitte of this life? Perhaps she could still be reasoned with.

But the Rosenitte of their past life—the one who had descended into madness—was undoubtedly an enemy.

If she had regained her memories in a slow, controlled manner, like Mikael had, there might have been hope for assimilation. But Rosenitte’s memories had likely surged back explosively, overwhelming her present self.

It was simple: Kill, or be killed.

Mikael had already made his decision.

“I know you won’t like hearing this, but isn’t this what must be done for the greater good?”

He was right.

As the future empress, Eve had to eliminate any threats to her life without hesitation.

The sage, too, pressed her for an answer.

“What will you do, my disciple?”

“…….”

Eve remained silent, weighing her options.

The choice was clear.

She could either eliminate the seed of disaster before it had a chance to grow…

Or she could let personal feelings cloud her judgment and risk being betrayed when it was too late.

Eve was no child reading fairytales anymore.

She had long abandoned fantasies of love and redemption.

She and Rosenitte had never been close.

There were plenty of stories about the power of love overcoming all obstacles—but theirs was never that kind of bond.

Even so, Eve spoke firmly.

“I will not kill Rosie.”

“Eve.”

Mikael immediately opened his mouth to argue, but Eve raised a hand to stop him.

Then, she turned to the sage and met her piercing black gaze.

Through the gaps of the owl mask, the sage watched her intently, as if testing her resolve.

“I only need to make sure she can’t kill me. I will strip her of even the thought of harming me.”

“How?”

The sage remained calm, while Mikael looked at her in confusion.

Eve declared,

“I will brand her.”

“……!”

Mikael stiffened in shock.

Ignoring his reaction, Eve continued speaking to the sage.

“The Brand isn’t limited to homunculi.”

The sage chuckled softly.

“Oh? You already knew?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

All tools used to control homunculi had originated from ancient slave systems.

The Brand that bound homunculi was nothing more than a modified version of the mental-binding magic used to enslave humans in the past.

The only reason human branding was considered unnatural and taboo was because, unlike homunculi, humans were protected under imperial law.

Eve, after spending time with Alben and becoming more unyielding in her decisions, had made up her mind.

“I know of a mental-binding spell—one known as Geass, the Oath of Subjugation.”

“Ah, my dear disciple, speaking of using dark magic…”

Though her words carried a hint of disapproval, the sage’s lips curved into a faint smile—like a teacher pleased with a student for arriving at the correct answer.

“Dark magic is merely a legal classification. It doesn’t mean one has to corrupt themselves or borrow power from demons or the Evil Dragon. Just as certain narcotics can serve as painkillers when used correctly, dark magic too can be used to save lives.”

“Your resolve is strong.”

“This is the only way to protect Rosie.”

At this, the sage decided to clarify one thing.

“Protect? From what?”

Eve blinked before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“You’re right. That was a bit hypocritical of me.”

Had she been influenced by Brigite’s way of thinking? She quickly corrected herself, speaking with full honesty.

“Branding Rosie as mine is the only way to protect her from me.”

Her amber eyes, firm and unyielding, held an icy determination.

She had never ruled out the possibility that she might have to kill Rosenitte.

She was prepared to carry it out if necessary.

But not yet.

She wanted to at least try for a better solution while she still could.

Now, both Rosenitte’s death and her survival rested entirely in Eve’s hands.

How ironic.

The sage, who knew nearly everything, had already foreseen Eve’s choice.

“Very well. I will teach you Geass.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Hope flickered in Eve’s eyes.

Meanwhile, Mikael let out a deep sigh—one he kept to himself.

“As if Sylvie wasn’t enough, now the Eighth Princess too?”

This was getting absurd.

The moment their Brand had been removed, Eve wasted no time expanding her dominion elsewhere.

For a brief moment, Mikael found himself missing the time when he had monopolized Eve’s control—when he alone belonged to her, bound completely under her authority.

“Mikael, let’s go back quickly.”

“…Alright.”

Unaware of his silent grumbling, Eve hurried ahead, eager to begin learning Geass.

***