The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

The deafening roar tore through the clouds, leveling the rain and snow. The people attending the celebration looked up at the giant statue on the mountaintop, which was over a hundred meters high, and listened to the hysterical roar of the amplified magic.

"Glory belongs to free will, Imperial dogs, get out of Fran territory!"

Viola finally broke free from Hestia's grasp. She pushed the princess aside and fled toward the main door. Just then, countless huge rubbles flew down like meteors, covering the sky. The roof of the meditation room was shattered by the impact without warning, and half of the broken crossbar collapsed against the main door.

"Get out of the way——"

Hestia instinctively threw Viola to the ground, and then the world spun around, with only the aftermath of delicate guilt echoing in her mind.

"Hestia, Your Highness!"

Volume 3: Dreamer: . Golden Shield Offensive

The incense burner is hung on the wall, made of red copper gilded with silver, bright white and pure. The wisps of fragrant mist from the burning frankincense float gently around the carved patterns, making the girl's boudoir warm and elegant.

Hestia was feeling dizzy when she opened her eyes. The chiffon bed curtains woven with gold thread maintained a sense of privacy, but also blocked her vision. She could only vaguely see a slender figure sitting beside the bed.

"Well……"

She rubbed her forehead and sat up. There was no pain as she remembered, and not even a bruise, as if the wood had never hit her head.

Slender, white fingers reached into the bed curtain, lifting her sight, and a gentle and beautiful face was reflected in Hestia's pupils.

With emerald hair and emerald eyes, willow-shaped eyebrows and almond-shaped face, she wore a smile as soft as the Danube, adorned with dimples. She seemed immersed in blissful love, though a lingering cloud of sorrow gathered between her brows. However, what caught Hestia's attention most were her pointed ears, adorned with crescent-shaped earrings. As the beauty approached, the silver bell-like jewels rang out in a melodious melody.

The beauty asked, "Your Highness, how do you feel?"

"I'm okay……"

Hestia began to recall the unfamiliar memories in her mind, and finally matched a name with the beauty.

Iyana Star-Moon, a half-elf, is a loyal maid of the Lorraine family and a childhood playmate of Hestia's biological mother.

Judging by age, Iyana was older than Hestia's mother who died young, about forty-five or forty-six. However, considering the half-elves' longevity of over two hundred years, she was still in her prime, and was about the same age as a human woman in her twenties.

In the original game's storyline, Iyana appears only a few times, serving as a personal maid. Her true highlight is the day the Iron-Blooded Princess is sent to the guillotine. She faces off against hundreds of armored knights at the execution ground, listens as the judge reads out her mistress's untold sins, and ultimately suffers a martyrdom for her master's evil deeds.

Hestia learned from the original owner's memories that our iron-blooded, despicable princess deeply despised this "cowardly, foolish," "tyrannical" idiot woman, and once used the guardianship granted by her mother's will to stop her from hanging the insolent people. This pointed-eared woman never fought back, never cursed, and always smiled as she braided the princess's hair. She was delicate yet stubborn, like cotton wool. Hestia could never get the better of her, often feeling extremely depressed.

"I remember being hurt," Hestia asked, reminiscing as she tried to integrate the alienated feeling in her consciousness. "But why don't I feel anything?"

Iyana clutched the silk handkerchief draped across her left knee, a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. "I've called in the priests of the Radiant Order... Don't be angry, Your Highness. I know you dislike them, but only they can ensure a foolproof treatment without any aftereffects... Look, there's not a single bruise."

She picked up the silver mirror beside the bedside table and presented it to Hestia. She forced a smile and complimented him with admiration, "Your Highness is a pillar of the empire. You cannot afford to lose your precious life. This way, you can better serve the empire, right?"

Iyana's tone was calm, but Hestia could sense her cautious attitude, as well as her pity, kindness, and doting that she couldn't bear to hurt.

"It won't happen again."

Hestia spoke indifferently, keeping everyone at a distance, but soon she felt guilty for her instinctive behavior.

Lorraine was Hestia's mother's family, the head of the Empire's Southern Council. Tragically, this large family died out, leaving Hestia as the sole heir. This established her exceptional position within the Empire's upper echelons, earning her the title of Bloody Grand Duchess.

Iyana and the clan behind her have been Lorraine's retainers for thousands of years, and the idea of ​​never betraying is engraved in their blood. This is why, even though Hestia hates Iyana so much, she still allows her to be her servant and not worry about being stabbed in the back in the middle of the night.

In addition, Hestia's ideas are very inconsistent with the Lorraine family. If it weren't for Iyana, other retainers would not be as easy to use as the half-elves.

"By the way, Your Highness," Iyana sensed that Hestia was in a good mood and took the opportunity to speak. "There's a girl guarding the mansion. I wanted to drive her away, but she's stubborn... I heard you had some friction, but she seems like a good child. You..." Iyana's words faltered as she mentally composed them. "No matter what, her intentions are good."

"Are you worried that I might harm her?"

"No, of course I don't mean that..." Iyana waved her hands quickly.

"It's okay, let her in."

"Then I'll go call her first." Iyana stood up, bowed politely to Hestia, and walked out the door.

"Also, Iyana." Hestia suddenly called her.

"Your Highness?"

"In private, just call me Hestia. You are Mother's best friend. No matter how different our philosophies may be, it will not affect my trust in you. If you have any questions, you can speak freely."

"But Your Highness..."

"This is an order!" Hestia shouted forcefully, then softened her voice, "This is an order, Aunt Iyana."

"..."

Hestia didn't get a reply. Perhaps the half-elf forgot the etiquette and left the boudoir without a word, leaving only a few drops of wet water on the carpet in front of the door.

"It's really troublesome."

Hestia rubbed her temples, feeling a headache when she thought of the multiple hidden dangers brought about by her identity.

The Grand Duchy of Lorraine has an extraordinary status, but the situation is not optimistic. Serf rebellions, citizen uprisings, and subhuman claims to sovereignty are endless. In official history, the young and bloody Grand Duchess once killed countless people and created a sea of ​​blood and mountains of corpses. She can be said to be an experience baby who greatly accelerated the process of the empire's division.

Even if she wasn't killed, assassination attempts against the Bloody Archduchess would have been numerous. Perhaps it was the accumulation of countless negative experiences that had warped her mind and made her even more cruel. Aside from Iyana, who ultimately died with her, Hestia couldn't think of another loyal subject she could trust with anything.

Soon, Viola was invited into the mansion by Iyana. She wiped the soles of her shoes with her sleeves again and again, mustered up the courage to knock on the door, and stepped into the secret room of the boudoir filled with incense.

She was stunned for a moment, the bright boudoir was twice as big as the residence of her family of four.

Hestia sat at the dressing table, closed the deerskin diary in her hand, and looked towards the door with a playful look. "Congratulations on giving me a concussion. From now on, you can show off your power by riding on my head every time you test me, Miss Lilan."

Viola suddenly felt guilty. She lowered her head, staring at the tips of her shoes that had been polished in the snow water, and said in a soft voice, "It's my fault that His Highness got hurt."

She had not wanted to come originally, after all, that was Hestia Heberus, the noble descendant of the dragon, the man-eating serpent of Cloudtop.

But His Highness saved her at the critical moment, otherwise she would have been the one hit by the broken beam. She wasn't as stubborn as the princess, with the blood of the Heavenly Dragon protecting her. If her small body had really been hit by that blow, she would probably have died.

Perhaps His Highness is not so bad, Viola thought, and so she came.

However, the angel who sacrificed himself to save her showed no mercy and opened his devilish claws again.

"An apology should be sincere. Crawl over here on your knees, and I might think differently." Hestia casually admired the nebula nail polish on her index finger. "What do people who are better than me do?"

Viola shuddered, but didn't obey. She pursed her lips, the image she had so hard to create in her mind blurring again. Unwillingly, she said, "Your Highness, I won't oppose you, not at all. I simply wish you well. I'm grateful for what happened in the meditation room, but you also ruined my stall. All the souvenirs my mother and I sewed all night long are ruined..."

"so what?"

"I will never again use money to blaspheme heroes. I want to give this to Your Highness as a gift. Let's make peace, okay..."

Viola approached Hestia cautiously and took out a warm stuffed doll from her coat. It was Natalia, the chivalrous knight of the Twenty-Eight Danube.

Hestia grabbed it casually, subconsciously feeling the urge to smash the doll to pieces. She clenched her fingers tightly, a smile on her face: "Are you short of money?"

"I……"

Viola awkwardly gathered her skirt to hide the patch.

She didn't think she was that poor. In Cloudtop City, having a clean, decent piece of clothing made her better than half the people. But in front of Hestia, she couldn't help but feel a strong sense of inferiority.

Hestia placed her fingers on the mechanical piggy bank in front of the dressing table and pressed a button. The spring coil inside immediately ejected a shining golden shield.

She stood up and grabbed Viola's clothes, not allowing any resistance. She threw the gold coins twisted between her fingers into the deep valley, slid down along the not-so-full gap, and was held tightly by the black-haired girl's lower abdomen.

The cool temperature of happiness infects body temperature.

"Your Highness, Your Highness..."

Viola's face was familiar, and she wanted to accuse the arrogant girl of her indecent behavior, but that was a golden shield, a shiny and bright golden shield, which her whole family could not save up for several months!

Hestia leaned against the windowsill, her sharp gaze piercing the pristine, thin snowfall, darting toward the bustling docks with fluttering white sails in the distance. Snow rarely fell on the cloudtops, and the harbor never froze in winter. The densely packed buildings of red brick and pointed arches rubbed shoulders with one another, the crowds surging like a dam-broken anthill.

"Sometimes I feel that a secluded mansion like this would be better if it were a little more lively. You see, many untouchables in Cloudtop City find it difficult to find a decent livelihood, but I happen to be in need of a suitable maid."

"Your Highness is saying..."

"A loyal maid," Hestia emphasized. "I hate it when people contradict me. Servants are always so few, and Iyana is constantly tied up in chores. If we could hire a live-in nanny or a gardener to tend to the grounds, the stagnant environment would be much better."

Viola's eyes widened. She felt like a rat in a gutter, with a huge pie falling into the hole waiting for her to lick.

She was not stupid and could see at a glance that Her Royal Highness the Princess was trying to recruit him.

But why her? Was he really as good as the princess claimed? He had only just taken first place in the preliminary test...

Learning the arts of literature and martial arts, and serving the imperial family, is the consensus of the vast majority of students in the Imperial Military Academy and the Arcane Academy, and it is also the best way for common people to soar to the top.

To make a living in the empire, you either become a leader or fall into the dust.

If she had to make a choice, Viola would naturally prefer the former. She wanted to be a respected noble who cared for the poor, so that she would not be bullied and her family could live a rich life.

But she still had some grudges in her heart.

Domis often complained to her about the brutality of the empire and the sadism of the nobles, saying that they were parasites sucking blood from the backs of the common people, and that all Frans should defend their freedom and independent dignity.

This was completely contrary to the education Viola received in compulsory primary school. The black-haired girl often didn't understand why Domis was so cynical, but thanks to Domis, Viola had heard of many maids who were humiliated and persecuted by the powerful, so she was afraid of the rich and powerful.

But the princess is a girl, and the villa doesn't have a master, so that kind of thing shouldn't happen...

"Every second of your hesitation will turn into pain that torments your parents."

Hestia smiled sinisterly, opened the slot on the back of the piggy bank, lifted the black-haired girl's skirt to use as a bib, and poured the money down.

Golden Shield! Golden Shield! Golden Shield!

All of them are dazzling golden shields!

Viola had never seen so much money in her life. She felt like a wet kitten in the rain, her legs trembling, afraid that she would lose a penny and have to pay it back in the end.

Viola's parents' chronic illness touched her soft spot. She stared at the bib, thinking that if she could take the money for herself, she would be able to hire the best doctor in Genting City.

"If I do this, His Highness will stop targeting me, right?"

Viola stammered, like a young bird being forced to offer her virginity.

"You're saying that I can do anything to you." Hestia sneered, then quickly pursed her lips and suppressed the corners of her mouth. "It depends on your performance... huh?"

Hestia was surprised to see Viola, who was holding up her skirt with one hand, slightly bent her knees, lifted her white wrist, and lightly touched the back of her flawless white hand with her lips.

"What are you doing?" Hestia asked in a serious tone.

"Knight, knight's allegiance ceremony..." Viola explained nervously, worried that she would be seen as a Muggle who knew nothing about etiquette. She said hesitantly, "That's what the book says... isn't it?"

"Of course not, idiot."

"Sorry……"

Viola didn't know what to say except to apologize. Her mood was up and down. She felt that the princess was not as bad as Domis said, but her arrogance and scolding always hurt people's hearts.

“That’s the correct way.”

At the moment when Viola was uneasy, Hestia lowered her head, and pink lipstick remained on her bright red cheeks.

The princess' lips were moist, tenderer than new buds and softer than cotton peeking out from under a coat.

"Your Highness!?"