Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 149: The Bashful Princess

Thus far, while there had been minor hiccups, events had unfolded largely within Lynn’s expectations.

Seated in the carriage, Lynn gazed at the rapidly receding streets outside the window, deep in thought.

After leaving the banquet hall of the Royal Extraordinary Academy, the unknown knights had loaded him, Eunice, and the Fourth Prince into three separate carriages without a word, swiftly heading toward the palace district.

At this moment, Eleanor was clinging tightly to Lynn’s arm. Her petite body pressed against him like an affectionate little octopus.

Not only that, but she buried her face into his chest, inhaling deeply as if trying to savor his scent, as though making up for the family connection she had missed over the past year.

But… why did this sense of “family affection” feel a little off?

Perhaps it was her profound lack of security or some other reason, but Eleanor acted as if she wanted to merge herself into Lynn’s body. Her small hands roamed over his chest repeatedly, as if verifying that her brother truly existed in this world.

For what felt like the umpteenth time, Lynn gently pulled Eleanor’s cold, tender hands out from under his shirt. Sighing, he said, “Eleanor, your brother is right here. Don’t be afraid.”

Eleanor tilted her small face up to look at him, her red-rimmed eyes staring intently.

“It feels like... you’ve changed so much,” she said in a soft, delicate voice after a long silence. “Do you still remember our past?”

Lynn’s heart tightened.

Of course, he had memories—he’d taken care to stay within the bounds of the original persona while decisively resolving matters since his return.

Yet despite this, Eleanor still seemed to sense something amiss.

Still, there was no way he would allow this to unsettle him. Ruffling her head affectionately, he replied, “What are you talking about?”

“For instance, how a certain little troublemaker used to secretly wet her pants and cry for her brother to help her change?”

Even in the dim light of the carriage, Eleanor’s face turned visibly scarlet.

“Eek!” She let out a squeak before burying her face into Lynn’s shoulder.

Moments later, a soft, indistinct murmur filled the carriage, its tone somewhere between shame and relief.

“Brother... you pervert.”

Compared to Orne City, the Imperial Capital was far grander and more prosperous.

Glostein was divided into three districts: the palace district, the upper city, and the lower city.

The boundaries between classes were stark, even reflected in the city’s layout. Each district was further divided into four regions—east, south, west, and north—circling the Emperor’s palace at the center.

The palace was the heart of the empire, and its most sacred marvel: the Saint Tree of the Spirit.

Peering out the carriage window, Lynn caught sight of the tree in the distant city center. Slender yet towering, its verdant branches and leaves extended skyward as if connecting heaven and earth.

Its trunk was a rich bronze, while its upper boughs and foliage gleamed with a golden hue under the moonlight, exuding a holy and noble radiance.

This faint glow illuminated the night, lending Glostein an air of mystique.

The Saint Spirit Tree, also known as the Saint Oak, had an unknown origin. Planted by the first emperor of Saint Roland, it was said to possess protective powers over the capital.

It was this marvel that earned the empire its moniker: The Nation of the Sacred Tree.

Surrounding nations also boasted their own wonders. For instance, the neighboring Dust Sand Kingdom of Tutkhamun was famed for its colossal triangular tomb, rumored to house the remains of a deity within its sarcophagus.

Lynn’s eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the radiant tree.

Having read the original story, he understood the true value of these monumental wonders.

If the card he possessed, Piennes’ Card, represented one of fifty-four paths to divinity, the Saint Spirit Tree symbolized another—its path more intact, albeit still incomplete.

He couldn’t help but feel a strong urge to study the tree up close.

Unfortunately, the tree possessed the qualities of a large-scale sealed artifact and defied conventional approaches. Only those chosen by it could come near. Otherwise, no matter how one tried, the tree would remain perpetually out of reach, always looming at the horizon.

Lynn was lost in thought when the carriage came to a slow stop.

Glancing up, he saw an ancient and imposing structure before him.

The dome-shaped building bore arched designs, its roof adorned with the crests of various noble families encircling the emblem of the Saint Roland royal family at its center, a testament to the hierarchy of power.

Lynn even spotted the Mosgra family’s Snowhawk crest and the Bartleon family’s Bull crest.

This was the Imperial Council Hall. Behind it stood the Imperial Headquarters, the nerve center of the nation’s governance and the administrative council’s seat of power.

Moments later, knights in armor opened the carriage door.

“Get out immediately!” one barked brusquely.

Their rough tone left no doubt—this was no friendly gathering. What awaited Lynn was a banquet of daggers cloaked in silk, a treacherous Hongmen Feast.

Lynn squinted but made no objection, helping Eleanor step out of the carriage.

The girl clung to his waist like a small, sticky shadow, her face hiding timidly behind him.

Eunice and the Fourth Prince, Joshua, had already entered, likely to present their side of the story first.

But Lynn wasn’t worried. This was exactly what he wanted.

As the grand doors swung open, soft golden light spilled across Lynn’s face.

And with it, countless pairs of eyes turned toward him.

When the intricately carved doors of the council hall opened, Yveste instinctively turned her head.

The moment she saw that familiar figure step inside, a glimmer of delight danced in her crimson eyes.

Though it had only been a few hours since their last meeting, to her, it felt like an eternity.

She wanted nothing more than to rush into Lynn’s arms and bask in his unique, endearing aura...

Wait—what?

In the next instant, her expression froze.

The boy before her was undoubtedly her beloved puppy, yet something was amiss.

A petite, delicate girl clung tightly to his waist, timidly hiding behind him with an innocent charm that invoked sympathy.

Yveste’s gaze zeroed in on the girl, anger and jealousy boiling within her as if someone had stolen what was rightfully hers.

He’s only been back in the capital for how long?

First that vile woman from the future—and now this?

Is this the type you prefer? Fragile and dependent?

Fine. It must be my fault.

I didn’t mold myself into your ideal.

Her silver teeth clenched as a storm brewed in her crimson eyes, casting a dark shadow over her expression.

A palpable wave of killing intent swept across the hall.

The temperature seemed to drop, and many guests instinctively hugged themselves, shivering as though struck by a sudden chill.

Even the elite Silverwing Knights and perceptive experts like Xiya became instantly alert, their sharp eyes darting toward Yveste’s direction.

It was clear that everyone present harbored intense apprehension toward the Third Princess, Yveste, whose strength resembled that of a monstrous entity.

Though a Sixth-Rank Demigod was not invincible in the Saint Roland Empire, wiping out the minor figures gathered here would be effortless for her.

None of them could fathom what catastrophic event could have provoked such overwhelming killing intent from this fearsome princess.

Perceiving the princess’s near-explosive mental state, Lynn exhaled slowly.

Not far behind Yveste, Greya wore a grave expression, casting Lynn a helpless look. Even Afia turned her gaze toward him, though upon noticing Eleanor’s presence, she rolled her eyes and huffed before looking away.

The women surrounding Lynn were openly hostile toward the girl clinging to him like a limpet, rejecting her presence with unprecedented unity.

Eleanor trembled even more visibly.

Just then, from the raised platform above, Saint Roland VI cast his commanding gaze downward.

That look, exuding both majesty and scrutiny, was enough to make ordinary people drop to their knees in fear.

Moments later, the court count proclaimed loudly, “His Majesty summons Lynn Bartleon forward for an audience!”

Hearing this, Lynn gently patted Eleanor’s small hand, a gesture of reassurance that drew another sharp, piercing glare from Yveste.

The surrounding temperature seemed to drop several degrees again.

Sensing Eleanor’s growing panic, Lynn spoke softly, “Don’t be afraid, Eleanor. Just remember what I told you in the carriage.”

“If you can win her favor, no one will be able to touch you.”

He had not mentioned Eleanor to Yveste before—for good reason.

Eleanor was female, and while Lynn believed their sibling bond rendered any concerns moot, Yveste’s personality would almost certainly lead her to overthink the situation.

Thus, this was Eleanor’s first appearance in Yveste’s—and the other women’s—view.

Lynn didn’t consider this a significant issue; after all, such introductions were inevitable.

Feeling Eleanor’s reluctance to let go, Lynn sighed. “Be good. His Majesty is calling me, and I have to go.”

Breaking free from Eleanor’s grip, Lynn ignored the array of familiar and unfamiliar faces around him and strode confidently toward the platform.

By this time, the Fourth Prince, Joshua, stood beside First Princess Shirina and the others, leisurely observing Lynn with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Eunice, on the other hand, was clutching her skirt with reddened eyes, quietly sobbing next to an elderly man in a military uniform.

From the man’s hawk-like gaze, Lynn instantly deduced his identity.

This was Fred Mosgra, Marquis of the Mosgra family and acting Minister of Military Affairs.

Once a close friend of Lynn’s father, Fred had betrayed him at a critical moment, using the opportunity to climb the ranks.

Now a prominent figure in the capital’s aristocracy, Fred had been invited to the commendation ceremony. His expression was dark as he glared at Lynn.

Clearly, he had already heard about the events at the Royal Extraordinary Academy.

Fred hadn’t expected the Bartleon family’s fallen son to have the means to lash out so viciously at the Mosgra family.

But even now, Fred saw no path for Lynn to recover his position.

The Emperor’s voice boomed, resonating with power that rippled through the council hall, evoking awe and reverence in everyone’s hearts.

“Lynn Bartleon, do you recognize your guilt?”

What do I do, what do I do?!

So scary, so scary, so scary!

Left alone where she stood, Eleanor felt like all the eyes in the hall were on her brother, save for a few that lingered on her trembling form.

Standing there required all her strength.

She feared that at any moment, the gaze brimming with killing intent from a short distance away might shred her to pieces.

Yet as she recalled her brother’s firm, reassuring gaze in the carriage, Eleanor took a deep breath.

I trust my brother. He wouldn’t lie to me.

If I can gain Her Highness’s favor, I will have completed my task.

But… how should she win favor?

Her brother hadn’t mentioned any specifics. In fact, when he spoke of this, his expression had turned awkward, almost shameful.

Confused but determined, Eleanor saw this as a test her brother had set for her.

Her heart pounded wildly, but she gradually calmed herself.

“Come here.”

A cold command reached her ears.

Eleanor’s body jolted, but after a moment of hesitation, she obeyed, slowly walking toward the princess.

Why does this feel like I’ve been caught red-handed by the rightful wife while sneaking around as the mistress?

Eleanor felt an urge to cry but had no tears.

Still, her thoughts raced.

Even though this was their first meeting, Eleanor could sense that the princess harbored an intense dislike for her.

Her brother was deeply trusted by the princess, yet as his sister, she was met with hostility.

Why?

Eleanor began to piece things together.

Her mind, honed by countless romance novels, started working overtime.

If Lynn knew her thoughts, he would likely break into a cold sweat and marvel at the overactive imagination of the women around him.

In truth, all Eleanor needed to do was explain that she was Lynn’s sister. Once the princess realized this, she would undoubtedly view Eleanor as an ally.

But Eleanor’s thoughts were like an untamed horse galloping off the trail.

The only reason a woman would dislike another woman without cause...

...is because of a misunderstanding over a man!

Suddenly, Eleanor felt as if she had uncovered the truth.

Her gaze flickered with shock.

Could it be that Her Highness has a secret crush on my brother?!

Because of unrequited love and the vast disparity in their statuses, the princess had no choice but to bury her bittersweet feelings deep within her heart. She could not express them, and even a few fleeting glimpses of him from afar each day brought her immense joy.

But what could she do?

Her brother was just too exceptional.

If not for their blood relation, even Eleanor might have been unable to resist—no, stop! That’s going off track!

She forced herself to refocus. Quickly, she thought, what could she offer to win the princess’s favor and recognition?

Aside from her face, which bore a striking resemblance to her brother’s, there was only one thing left: her identity.

With this realization, Eleanor, who had now reached Yveste, made up her mind.

As she felt the varied, scrutinizing gazes of the people surrounding the princess, her heart pounded furiously.

There was no turning back now.

Under the watchful eyes of all present, Eleanor slowly lifted her head, revealing her face for the first time.

At the same time, her soft lips parted, and she spoke in a shy, almost inaudible voice.

“S-Sister-in-law?”

The sudden address left Greya and Morris frozen in stunned disbelief.

If Lynn were present, he would most likely have fainted on the spot.

I told you to win her favor, not to drag this into the mix too! What on earth are you doing?!

Already burdened with Yveste’s overwhelming love, Lynn’s predicament would now become even more unmanageable.

Eleanor, a true daughter of the Bartleon family, had delivered this with remarkable precision.

But at this moment, Eleanor was blissfully unaware of how her brother might react when he learned what had happened. She believed she had made the right choice.

From Yveste’s perspective, she indeed had.

As Yveste stared at the teary-eyed girl and her delicate face, so uncannily similar to Lynn’s, an inexplicable calm washed over her. The irritation and killing intent that had roiled in her chest moments ago simply… vanished.

She… called me sister-in-law?

The thought echoed in her mind, lingering and refusing to fade.

Although Yveste had already publicly declared Lynn as her future consort, it was more an expression of her intentions than an established fact. Everyone knew it wasn’t official.

Yveste herself understood that Lynn did not yet accept this identity. After all, there was still the lingering presence of that detestable Witch of the End, standing as a barrier between them.

As long as that vile woman remained, Yveste’s dream would be difficult to realize.

Thus, her declarations had largely been a unilateral move—a way to assert her claim in front of others.

But Eleanor’s voluntary use of this title felt different.

As Lynn’s biological sister, Eleanor’s acknowledgment carried significant weight. Their unbreakable familial bond added another layer of legitimacy to Yveste’s claim.

Moreover, it was the first time Yveste had received approval from someone in Lynn’s family.

A strange silence descended.

After a few moments, a faint blush began to creep onto Yveste’s porcelain cheeks, softening her usually imperious demeanor and making her beauty all the more striking.