The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

"The High Knight has been loyal only to the God-Emperor and his descendants throughout his life," Clara said, immediately declaring her loyalty. "Besides, I obey no one else."

"Haha, stop with the polite talk." Hestia shook her head. "Let me put it another way. Can you trust your boss?"

Clara thought for a moment and replied solemnly, "Captain Trolo is an upright and loyal Imperial warrior. He comes from a humble background but is well-connected and well-connected, both in the Senate and among the lower-level officers."

"Then write him a secret letter. In your personal name, investigate Noelle Tinson's background." Hestia said helplessly, covering her forehead with her hand. "Aside from the last name Tinson and the achievements written in her credit book, I know nothing about her. It's ridiculous."

What's even more ridiculous is that the princess trusts Noelle Tinson far more than the maid who has taken care of her for more than ten years.

"Besides that, Your Highness, what else do we need to prepare?"

"Tell Trolo you're investigating the worms. I believe a powerful legion commander would have a comprehensive plan." Hestia lowered her voice, as if worried about disturbing the statue. "Don't send anyone to monitor her. Investigate all her relationships and fabricate as many charges as possible. The more thorough the better. That way, when I execute her first and report later, the Tinson family won't be able to accuse me."

"Your Highness will see you."

"Go down," Hestia said.

The princess was the only one left in the deserted prayer hall. She stood at the foot of the giant gilded statue, gazing into the eyes of the "God-Emperor" that showed either compassion or majesty. The statue was portrayed vividly by the incredible craftsmanship.

Perhaps even the stonemason who carved the statue felt conflicted. He felt that the God-Emperor should be sacred and solemn, to be worshipped by all mortals in the world, but in his heart he secretly longed for the God-Emperor to be full of compassion and be willing to bow down to the people.

But no matter which God Emperor it is, he is just an illusion of the craftsman.

God is unfathomable, even though He was once mortal.

"So what happened to you?" Hestia asked.

no answer.

If the God-Emperor could respond to the mortal world, even if the Empire were to rot as it is today, it would only be after completely conquering the Tyran Elves, the Eternal Heaven, and the Russ Shepherds. Even the Land of the Dead further south and the new world across the ocean would have worshipped the banner of the Tower.

When she told Clara about the Divine Emperor's revelation, she faced considerable risk. One day, the military would surely send someone to inquire about the matter.

So she only said "revelation", and as for the status of the God-Emperor... Sorry, I just listened and didn't watch.

This may become a death warrant, but more often than not, it is also an impeccable card.

“There are still not many people available…”

Hestia sighed helplessly.

This was also the reason why she relied on Iyana even more. Aside from the fact that she was a witch, which she couldn't mention for the time being, she had nothing to hide.

Whether the princess is tyrannical, vicious, sinister or dissolute, Iyana will probably accept it silently.

Of course, for the elf maid mother, it would be best for the princess to be a gentle and kind child.

"Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable, Amitabha, Hallelujah, Confucius once said so." Hestia lit the incense burner on the altar and worshiped devoutly. "If the God-Emperor can still breathe, I hope He will grunt soon. Otherwise, even if the rebels don't come, chaos will surely descend."

Hmm...no words.

Useless thing, I'll give you two punches.

Hestia shrugged, but ultimately didn't say what was in her heart.

After the Witch's Book absorbed the resentment infused by her enemy, she felt a little annoyed, with a restless hunger wriggling in her heart, as if she wanted to chew up everything in the world.

"Is it a witch's curse?"

Hestia thought of Lady Aynive's words and murmured silently.

Witches will spontaneously plunder everything, which is the root cause of their loss of control. However, their pain and despair will in turn become a replenishment of their strength.

But Hestia had no desire to eat humans, and held no interest in the hidden spirits of every brick, every blade of grass, every tree. She thought of the Cocoon Sisterhood and recalled her own dreamlike experiences as a cybermoth cultivator. Her friends from the other world, their bodies morphing, their forms shifting: Chloe, Viola, and finally, a graceful, mature spirit, lingering in her cocoon.

Female. She kept thinking of this thought over and over again, thinking it was because she didn't sleep well last night, and forced herself to suppress her restlessness.

Leaving the prayer hall, the wind died down, the snow stopped, and petals fell in all directions. The pansies were half open and half withered in the cold wave, just like the mixed light and darkness in the sky.

In the past, the flowers would bloom more abundantly, but this winter is much colder than usual, so even this cold-resistant little flower can no longer withstand the cold.

Through the Witch's Book, Hestia could vaguely perceive subtle traces of lightness, like pieces of dazzling feathers, moving among the flower beds and along the paths.

She guessed that this was Iyana's fairy, weak but secretive, without substance, able to swim in the circuits of arcane runes and unable to be observed by the naked eye.

The princess was thinking about her next plan when she saw Matildaal, who was walking and jumping with a rapier on his shoulder, and Iyana, who was returning to the villa, bump into each other.

The sight of the elf was like seeing his mortal enemy. Iyana wanted to give way, but was stopped by the cold and petite Ross girl.

Iyana said gently, "Ms. Miller, you're supposed to be going to practice swordplay, right? Could you please move aside for a moment? I have something to report to Her Royal Highness the Princess."

"How dare a pointy-eared bitch like you mention His Highness!" Matildahl raised his chin in disdain, his hands on his hips, and his legs spread wide. "You can get over there if you want, but get under my crotch!"

Iyana frowned slightly. She had a good temper and had seen how the princess could act like a beast, so her tolerance was surprisingly high. She wasn't even like Viola, who would say something harsh like "complain".

"Miss Millerling, we may have some misunderstandings," Ilenyana said softly, "You must be careful to control your temper. Sometimes, losing your true self too much can lead to disaster."

"Do I need you to teach me a lesson?" Matildahl thought the elf was threatening him and shouted angrily, "You bitch who used two pieces of rotten flesh to seduce His Highness to the throne, do you think I don't know the hypocritical virtues of you elves? Humph, as early as three thousand years ago, we Russians fought against the dark elves. Do you really think you can rely on vulgar beauty and shameless figure to keep His Highness by your side forever? Dream on!"

After scolding him, Matildahl couldn't help but laugh smugly, "His Highness likes puppies like me who obey for life, while you are just a flesh slave who will be kicked away after being used!"

"Where did you learn these words?"

Iyana's brows deepened, not liking the child using such dirty words.

She had a strange expression on her face. When she thought of the scene of the princess doing whatever she wanted to her, she felt that it was not filth, but a sacred and noble blessing.

"Hypocrisy." Matildahl drew his rapier and pointed it at the elf. "I know you've enchanted His Highness with magic, but it doesn't matter. His Highness will soon discover your plot. Now, either get under my crotch, go back to where you came from, or... duel with me. With the honor of the nobility at stake, we'll settle our feud the Imperial way!"

"Ms. Miller!" Iyana was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

duel?

She certainly didn't know how to compete in swordsmanship, but if she really wanted to use secret techniques to solve the problem, she was worried that Matildaal would die under the secret techniques if they disagreed.

"It seems you can't wait to fight my pets."

Hestia's voice came from a distance.

The princess approached the two of them, and Matildahl was so excited that he couldn't express it in words: "Your Highness, please come..."

"Snapped!"

Matildahl's body flew out and fell into the flower garden in a dizzying manner.

Hestia had no sympathy for the woman; her character seemed to have lost its purity as the princess's memories merged with her. In her eyes, Matildaal was just a dog bewitched by a bug.

If a dog bites someone, it must be killed. She showed mercy by not cutting it to death.

"Your Highness..." Matildahl covered her swollen cheeks, feeling her teeth were a little loose. Her voice trembled, and she knelt on the ground and crawled towards the princess, using a humble and flattering tone to please her, "Did Matildahl make Your Highness angry again? I'm sorry, Your Highness, Matildahl will correct it..."

"You've forgotten what I told you again," Hestia said disappointedly.

Matildahl's delicate body trembled, and she said in a trembling voice, "I'm sorry, Your Highness. I forgot the order of respect... I'm sorry." She immediately kowtowed to Iyana, "Lady Iyana, I was foolish for a moment and challenged your authority again. I, I deserve death!"

Matildahl almost buried her face in the snow and mud, shedding tears of humiliation, her eyes filled with confusion and hatred.

Why, why doesn't the antidote work!

This bitch must have used other means to compete with her for His Highness!

Why should she compete with her for His Highness's favor? She had clearly achieved this much, so why was she still inferior to a lowly elf?

Matildahl didn't understand. She was filled with resentment and panic. She feared that one day, she would completely lose His Highness's favor. No, losing His Highness's favor wasn't the worst. The worst was becoming a forsaken dog, never to be blessed by the Celestial Dragons again.

Do not……

Losing favor is the worst outcome.

From Yunling to Ross, from the Princess's Mansion to the Miller Family, Matildahl knew that no one had ever loved him.

Only a dog that becomes a princess can enjoy this unique favor from birth to death.

But why did His Highness change his heart...

It's this woman's fault! This woman, this bitch!

Matildahl was furious. He dug his fingers into the mud, his nails tearing his flesh, and his body trembled in mad agitation.

"Your Highness, I just had some misunderstandings with Miss Miller. Now that the misunderstanding has been resolved, you should stop blaming her..." Iyana sighed helplessly as she looked at Matildaal's trembling appearance.

"Did you hear that?"

"I heard... Matildael, thank you, thank you, Lady Iyana, for your forgiveness."

Matildaal cried out in despair and humiliation. In the end, His Highness still protected this bitch.

"If you hear that, get out of here," Hestia said impatiently.

"Yes... Your Highness."

The puppy ran away in a panic, limping as if it had a broken leg, and staggering on the cold snow.

Iyana couldn't bear it: "Your Highness, you don't have to do this."

The princess raised her eyebrows and said, "If you can endure this, what else can't you endure?"

"I've looked up the literature, and Miss Miller's actions might not have been her original intention," Iyana sighed. "Before complete depravity, each of us is on the brink of becoming a worm. Bewitching temptation is always present. It's dangerous, but not a catastrophic threat. At such times, Miss Miller needs the care and concern of someone who understands her... You're likely contributing to her depravity."

"So what?" Hestia curled her lips. "Saving people comes at a price. A drowning person will often frantically push their rescuer's head downwards, just to have a chance to come up and breathe. You think you understand her well enough, you think she has no choice, but in fact, she knows exactly what she is doing."

Hestia did not have the rich emotions of Iyana. Her words were cold and cruel, leaving the elf maid silent.

"You want to save her, but she doesn't want you to save her. She only hates you for causing trouble, for disturbing her sweet dream while she's drowning." Hestia smiled and added, "Just like those untouchables in the slums."

"Why do you think so, Your Highness? Isn't Miss Miller an Iron Army noble?"

"Oh, she's certainly a noble, but..." Hestia smiled, "It's all up to her will. Ling Ranmeng will fail, so you will fail too. Don't pity her. Remember, you're mine. The life and death of a bug has nothing to do with you."

"..."

"Are you unhappy?"

Hestia teased, and suddenly took the elf's arm, her eyes looking from the willow-like eyebrows all the way down, and her bare hands tore open the buttons of the clothes, invading with desire.

"Your Highness!" the elf screamed in shock.

Hestia jokingly said, "That dog said you were a bitch who seduced me. I heard it from a long way off. Why don't you show me how you seduced Her Highness?"

"No, Your Highness..." Iyana struggled, her pretty face flushed and her eyes blurred, trying hard to hold on to the last bit of her rationality, "I am only your servant."

"You will be my servant."

"I, I'm already forty-six years old, older than your mother..."

"Forty-six is ​​better. I don't like it if I'm one year younger."