“Yulia. My baby.”
This is a story from Yulia’s childhood.
On a day that was simply happy and pure. Her mother, who was still alive then, said:
“In the Estrid bloodline flows both madness and cunning. You must always be careful.”
Yulia was quite young to fully understand such advice. Was she eight, or perhaps nine?
To help Yulia grasp it better, her mother kindly provided an example from an old story that featured a very terrifying name.
“When Ortega bathed an entire city in blood.”
Her mother waited for Yulia to swallow before continuing.
“To stop him, the Empire gathered all its might. The Tower Masters of various colors were just the beginning. Swordmasters and knights, and even priests from the Holy Kingdom of Constantine. The greatest warriors from all over the world came together. The army they formed was truly a spectacle.”
There might have been some exaggeration. But to young Yulia, it was an endlessly captivating story. Thinking back now, her mother knew a lot of stories. Yulia missed her dearly.
“Among those mighty individuals, not one could touch Ortega. They couldn’t even graze a hair on him. They all ended up as nothing more than blood flowing down.”
It was said that a small stream in the city flowed as if a monsoon had come. Except, it was all blood. The blood of millions who died because of Ortega. What could he have possibly wanted to kill so many people?
“Ortega was powerful. More than any other strong person. And he was cunning. He withstood the combined attack of countless abilities. He understood people. Instead of facing them one by one, he cleverly manipulated them and made them fight each other. Eventually, the seemingly united assault force fell apart.”
Yulia was smart enough to grasp the core of the story. Ortega was mad, powerful, and cunning. And Yulia had inherited the same Estrid blood as Ortega. It was a story with a moral.
Be wary of the cunning that flows in the Estrid bloodline.
Yulia always kept her mother’s will in her heart. Because of that, Yulia was always cautious of herself. Of the madness and cunning lying dormant in her blood. Ready to deal with it whenever it might surface.
‘…That’s what I thought.’
Yulia lifted her head and looked down.
At the boy lying there with his eyes closed.
The boy who had just been possessed by the spirit of Ortega. He was now breathing steadily.
‘Perhaps the warning wasn’t about me, but about Ortega.’
Recalling how the boy had been controlled by Ortega sent chills down her spine.
This boy was undoubtedly smart.
To achieve time stoppage in a human body was beyond the realm of an ordinary mind. Even an extraordinary genius would find it difficult. Judging by the wary look in his eyes as he watched Yulia from the tip of her toes when she entered the room, he wasn’t a boy to let his guard down easily.
Despite that.
Ortega had almost completely taken over the boy’s body.
If Yulia hadn’t been there, Ortega would have fully possessed him.
Yulia herself was so tense when awakening the boy’s consciousness that her mouth had gone dry.
“He must have taken his time, preparing carefully.”
Ortega would have hidden within the boy’s body, waiting for the right moment. Calculating the surroundings and seizing the perfect opportunity to take over the boy’s body.
Yulia thought.
Perhaps her mother’s warning wasn’t about Yulia herself. It was about the Estrid bloodline. About Ortega, who could awaken anytime, anywhere.
Her mother was a bearer of the Arcane Eyes, after all.
Yulia looked down at the boy.
The boy who harbored Ortega.
What was the right thing to do with him?
She could kill him right now if she decided to.
The boy’s body wasn’t particularly thick.
His neck was especially long and slender.
Just a moment of gripping his neck would be enough to kill him.
But what then?
Was there any guarantee that Ortega’s spirit wouldn’t move on to another host? She couldn’t be sure.
That’s why Yulia released her grip from the boy’s neck.
It might be better to keep him close and watch over him.
— Rustle
The boy’s eyelids began to slowly open.
◆
The nausea subsided.
When he opened his eyes, a head full of white hair filled his vision.
Amidst it, the Arcane Eyes glowed blue.
Her eyelashes moved as she blinked, like white curtains fluttering in the wind.
“Third Princess.”
“Are you awake?”
“…Yes.”
His consciousness gradually returned. Memories started to flood back. Hector and his group had provoked him. He had stopped time. His consciousness began to blur slightly. In the end, he had briefly surrendered his mind to Ortega.
‘…’
Lloyd bit his lip.
He hadn’t fully realized the process of his body being taken over. He thought he was just feeling heightened excitement, but it was actually the result of Ortega’s influence.
Thinking back, the possession seemed to have begun when he started breaking the hands of the kids clapping at him. Or perhaps the latent violence he had been hiding had given Ortega strength.
Whatever it was, it gave him chills.
He had almost completely lost control of his body.
“Do you understand the situation now?”
Yulia spoke in a cold, emotionless tone.
Her expressionless face showed no hint of emotion. Lloyd swallowed hard. This woman was different from the reputation of the Princess of Rebellion. Was there something he misunderstood about her?
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.
Given such cold calculation, she must have certainly debated whether to kill him, just like Arno of the White Knights did.
“I should thank you for saving me.”
“Really? I don’t think I did much to help you.”
“Just the fact that you didn’t kill me is enough to be thankful for.”
Even as Lloyd bowed his head, Yulia’s expression remained serene. Only her fingertips trembled slightly.
So, she did contemplate killing him.
Lloyd swallowed dryly.
At this point, those on the ‘righteous’ side might be more dangerous to him. If they found out he had Ortega inside him, they would all try to kill him.
The important thing is this:
‘She decided to let me live.’
He didn’t know why, but the crucial point is that, for some reason, he held value to this woman.
The question is, in what way?
No matter how the Third Princess is called the Princess of Rebellion, she was better than the Duchess. The Duchess was clearly a high-ranking official of the Blood Cult. The longer he was entangled with her, the more dangerous it would surely be.
“Your Highness, do you have any desire to become the Empress?”
“… What? What are you talking about…?”
“Seeing your clear surprise, it seems you do have such an ambition. Don’t worry. No one can eavesdrop on us right now.”
Even while collapsed, Lloyd had maintained a spell. Although the effects of the sedative were wearing off, making his mana control unstable and causing continuous collisions within his narrow mana circuits…
“I can make you the Empress.”
Lloyd declared confidently.
“… What?”
Yulia’s flustered expression showed no intent to hide her shock.
That was good. He didn’t want to waste time with pointless pleasantries.
“Buy me.”
◆
The banquet, temporarily halted due to the Princess’s absence, resumed upon her return.
“I’m sorry. I got lost for a moment.”
The Duchess knew this was merely an excuse.
And Yulia knew the Duchess wouldn’t believe her. But it didn’t matter to either of them. Asking what a lady did while she was away, even to use the restroom, was not acceptable etiquette. Especially when the other party was a princess. This was a privilege afforded by the Estrid bloodline.
Of course.
“I have an urgent report.”
A butler entered and reported something to the Duchess, which was within the bounds of propriety. After hearing the report, the Duchess gave Yulia an inscrutable smile.
“The layout of our mansion is indeed a bit complicated, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s just that I’m not very familiar with the place.”
“I’ll ensure a guide is provided for you next time.”
Yulia simply smiled at the Duchess’s sarcastic remark.
She had lived too long as a royal illegitimate child to be scratched by such minor jabs.
Her focus was on the mysterious boy she had just met—Lloyd. Specifically, on a few things he had said.
‘He said the tea served for dessert would be poisoned.’
Lloyd had mentioned that the Duchess would mix poison into the tea. Drinking it would slowly dull her senses over a long period.
The boy also added that if the Duchess’s expression changed, it would be wise to distance herself immediately.
“The tea is served.”
The butler brought out the tea.
Yulia lightly glanced at the teacup.
Then she placed it back on the table.
“This is a black tea imported from the East. Don’t you like it?”
At the Duchess’s question, Yulia shook her head ever so slightly.
“No, thank you. I’m already quite full and can’t drink much more.”
As she spoke, Yulia subtly raised her head.
The Duchess’s tightly knit brows were quickly relaxing.
