The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

"I will protect Your Highness!" Iyana was flattered.

When we arrived at the square, we saw a woman in plain clothes hugging the cold body of her child tightly. Her voice was hoarse from crying and she was sobbing softly.

Unable to grasp the attitude of the important person, none of the police officers outside dared to use violence. At other times, they would have hit her with a stick to help her forget her suffering.

"Who did this?" Hestia demanded.

Everyone lowered their heads and dared not answer.

"Your Majesty, this could just be an accident..." Sergeant Zero, reassured that Hespatia had brought justice to everyone here, explained tremblingly, "Due to Inspector Brizen's insistence, we will take some tough measures in apprehending the rebels, but we won't actually kill anyone."

"Just an accident?" Hestia's eyes were playful, and she was thinking of a scapegoat for her experiment. She poked the woman's face with the fat Inquisitor's cane and asked, "Tell me, who is the murderer?"

The woman stared at the princess in silence, her fear overshadowing the grief of losing her child. She didn't know who the murderer was, or if they were all involved. But what good would it do if she accused them? If she did, she would face terrible retribution.

"Your Highness, perhaps it really was an accident." Iyana leaned over and spoke softly, "There are no obvious external injuries. It could be due to other reasons."

Iyana lifted the child's coat and reached out to touch his bony chest, her brows furrowed slightly. Between his ribs, a thin, barely perceptible line stretched.

"No problem?" Hestia noticed that there was something wrong in Ilingana's eyes.

Her half-elf maid had always been calm and submissive, and rarely showed such a serious expression.

Iyana asked, "I'm not sure. It feels a little strange. Ma'am, has your child ever had any other illnesses or received treatment at a clinic recently?"

The woman nodded blankly. "Ryan was once cleaning the chimney of an abandoned house that was being renovated and inhaled too much soot. He's been feeling unwell ever since. The doctor said he had some... some infection. I don't quite understand. Miss, you said my Ryan was sick, so..."

She didn't know whether she should feel pain or relief. But soon, only self-blame remained in her eyes.

"Is that so?" Hestia said with some regret.

"If you want to know the specific cause of the child's death, I can hand the body over to a professional doctor." Iyana looked at the woman. "It's up to you."

Hearing this, the woman hugged her child tightly and said softly, "Let's not do it. If Ryan never wakes up, I just hope his soul can rest in peace."

Iyana was very gentle, but the woman really didn't trust any professional doctors.

She'd heard that dealing in the dead was a business, and in just the past two months, there had been no fewer than ten cases of body thefts at Pavas Cemetery. If someone were to cut a body open with a knife, there was no telling what parts would be missing.

"You." Hestia looked at the middle-aged man.

"Martin, Your Highness, just call me Martin." Sheriff Martin nodded and bowed.

"How much is your pension?"

After hearing these words, Sheriff Martin was almost frightened to his knees and begged for mercy. In just a few seconds, he even thought of his ten thousand-word suicide note.

"This, this is closely related to the officer's rank, current salary level, years of service, and the cause of his death. The specific calculation still needs..."

"You."

"If I die in the line of duty, theoretically my family can receive 200 to 220 gold shields, and my children can receive 30 silver shields per year until they reach adulthood..."

Sheriff Martin sweated profusely. This was just theory. Everyone knew that the lives of these French people, from bureaucrats to clerks, were worthless. Even if they sacrificed their lives for the Empire, even if they received even a tenth of the compensation, it would be a miracle.

"Compensate her according to this standard." Hestia pointed at the woman.

"Um... ah?"

"Also, assist the High Knight in confiscating the fat man's property. Remember to make a detailed list of the evidence of his corruption."

Confiscating a house is a delicate job. Without the help of a local tyrant like Sheriff Martin, Clara really doesn't know where to start.

What the High Knight is best at is wielding the butcher knife, making others afraid to raise their claws.

"Your Highness, Your Highness means..." When Sheriff Martin heard that he didn't have to die, his lips trembled, and the gratitude in his eyes was more flattering than that of a court eunuch.

"That's it. The ringleader has been executed. If you, the misguided accomplices, continue to disregard the laws of the Empire, you will meet the same fate as that fat pig."

Hestia was tired and had no better reason to kill, so she simply ended the farce hastily.

However, it was an unexpected surprise to know another effect of the Nameless Book. Perhaps it contained the secret of a witch's advancement.

"And you," Hestia said indifferently to the grateful Sheriff Martin, the frightened police officers, and the surviving community residents. "The Empire won't kill a good person by mistake, but it won't let any criminals go either. I believe the residents here are all loyal, but if I discover that anyone is harboring a traitor, it will go beyond just collective punishment."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Hestia thought for a moment and then said:

"I understand your difficulties, but I also hope you understand the empire's difficulties. Is your survival really due to the empire's excessive exploitation and the bureaucratic idleness? No..."

She shook her head and said to herself:

"You only see the empire's helplessness, unaware that it's the very existence of the Imperial Tower that has saved the people from the devastation of the Tyran elves and the Russ herders. Think carefully: a century of rebellion has brought nothing but chaos to the empire and made your lives more difficult. Have they truly brought even the slightest benefit? Whether you respect or fear them, you must understand that only the God-Emperor, only the Emperor, truly loves his people like his own children. You are the foundation of the empire. If you suffer injustice, you should speak up instead of colluding with the rebels and harming the bond between your father and his people. I won't delve into this matter, simply because I don't want more innocent people to suffer undeserved disaster."

Regardless of whether the residents in the square believed it or not, Hestia believed it anyway.

She knew the elements of free will, the Republican Army, the Restorationists, theocracy supporters... When the Empire was there, this group of people could still unite under pressure. When the tower collapsed, the entire Fran region directly entered the chicken-eating mode, which was a purgatory on earth.

What she meant was obviously that there must be a rebel party in Little Demon Rat Boutique Alley, but the emperor loved his people like his own children, and Her Royal Highness the Princess was unparalleled in benevolence, so in order to avoid causing unnecessary damage, they temporarily gave in.

"But the kindness of the Empire is not the basis for your rebellion. If you want the Empire to prosper, your cooperation and loyalty are indispensable. Therefore..."

Hestia played with the fat Inquisitor's valuable cane, looking righteous and awe-inspiring.

"In the name of the Sixth Princess of the Empire and first in line to the throne of the Grand Duchy of Lorraine, I declare:

"Any loyal person who provides clues about the rebellion will be rewarded with one gold shield. If a rebel is arrested and confirmed by the Princess's House, each rebel will be rewarded with ten gold shields, and each rebel cadre will be rewarded with one hundred gold shields. Loyal people who go undercover within the rebels, abandon the dark and join the light, and assist in the investigation and destruction of rebel strongholds will be rewarded with one thousand gold shields and be granted the title of Imperial Baron..."

It is true that the empire is short of money, but she is not. After all, she can’t take her head away. The worst that can happen is that she will just have to build fewer palaces!

Volume 10: Dreamer: . In this life, I have

Hestia, having inherited the princess's memories, harbored no feelings for the Empire. Her greatest fear was the subsequent purge of the Celestial Dragons following the Empire's collapse. From the octogenarian to the infant, anyone with even a trace of Heberus bloodline would be slaughtered, with casualties reaching into the tens of thousands.

The very few remaining royal remnants who had lost the blessing of heaven were cursed by the Dreams myth and turned into deformed monsters whose lives were worse than death.

Even the Divine Emperor's former ally, the Church of Radiance, rose up in rebellion amidst the overwhelming pressure.

Unless she becomes a legend, even though she is a princess, she still cannot escape the day when the sky falls.

After dispersing the crowd in the square, Hestia breathed a sigh of relief.

Offering a personal bounty on the rebels would be difficult to disrupt their base for the time being. Firstly, the Empire is indeed inhumane in many ways, and there are many who hold blood feuds. Secondly, the Empire's credibility is limited. If it were printed as banknotes, it would probably be worth less than toilet paper. Who can guarantee that they can get the money?

Shang Yang still had to set up a tree to show his trust.

"We need to find useful untouchables to serve the empire... Clara, this area is called Little Mouse Boutique Alley?" Hestia muttered to herself, suddenly remembering the strange name of this alley.

"A Gray Ratman runs a general store here, mainly providing supply services to mercenaries and adventurers traveling to and from the port."

"Then there will be some illegal business as well?"

"That ratwoman once served in the Iron Army. She has her own connections within the military and is a well-known local boss in the Lower City. She occasionally provides intelligence to the military, which has led to a slight relaxation of many of the authorities' restrictions."

"Do you know?"

"Not...very familiar."

Even if they are not very familiar with each other, then they know each other. Maybe Clara is one of the other party's connections in the military.

Hestia nodded, not paying any attention, but it suddenly occurred to her that this might be a good idea—

If there is any race that has lived a comfortable life under the empire's high-pressure rule and iron-blooded conquest, it is probably the rat people.

Compared to the wealthy goblin merchants who were often plundered by the Empire for gold, the ratmen hadn't lived lavishly for tens of thousands of years, enduring a hardship worse than cockroaches day by day, making them the most premium Warcraft fodder. To survive in this tight spot, they embraced whatever powerful people they could find, but the results were far from satisfactory.

Until the arrival of the Iron Army of the God-Emperor, the ratmen were liberated from the mines of the dwarves and gnomes. Since then, hundreds of ratmen clans have followed the iron hoof of the empire and flowed to every corner of the known world.

This insidious, dirty creature, which is more tenacious than a cockroach, is generally discriminated against. Even the imperial people don't like it at all. It is used as military beast in the army.

But the Empire's greatest strength was that no matter how hard the people suffered, the army could not. Military animals were registered as soldiers, and as a result, the living standards of the Skaven visibly improved after joining the Empire. The average life expectancy soared from twelve to twenty years. The entire tribe held the God-Emperor in unwavering reverence, their loyalty practically etched on their faces.

The empire is too vast, its administrative structure bloated. Many territories haven't been fully absorbed, and they can't be absorbed. Rather than waiting for someone to overthrow it, it would be wise to voluntarily relinquish some territory. Before then, perhaps we could take advantage of the empire's remaining power and relocate these military beasts en masse to those restive territories. Within a decade, a new generation of ratmen could establish a firm foothold there.

Iyana said softly, "Your Highness, if you have anything you want to do, you can always tell me."

"No, nothing." Hestia shook her head and hid the fleeting thought in her heart.

not the right time yet.

The most important thing at the moment, besides figuring out the path of witches, is to prevent Viola Leland, the future enemy of the empire, from defecting.

Back at the Lilan family's humble home, the rich aroma of meat overflowed from a charred and rusty soup pot.

Sitting in the room were a woman, two young girls, and a little girl. The woman, upon seeing the queen, immediately jumped up from her chair, uneasy and unsure whether to stand or kneel. The mischievous little creature, upon seeing Hestia, gazed at her with crystal-clear eyes, unabashedly.

"Your Highness, Your Highness..."

Viola was cleaning the house. She knew that His Highness would be coming soon, so she wanted to tidy up this shabby place and make it look presentable.

What Domis said was not entirely wrong, the black-haired girl was very conflicted.

Viola knew the princess's character was quite harsh, though she possessed a certain beauty of fairness, treating nobles and commoners alike. Yet, even in the smallest details, she felt flattered by the attentions she received. She disliked the princess's personality, not at all, but she couldn't ignore her kindness.

In this world that values ​​identity and bloodline, Viola hopes to be recognized by "authority" as an affirmation of her hard work.

She knew she was nothing more than a lowly commoner, unworthy of any attention. Even her looks were unattractive to the Celestial Dragons, accustomed to the delicacies of the land and sea. The blood of a lowly person was no more alluring than that of a sewer rat. Yet, she couldn't help but fantasize that she was truly special to the Princess.

Viola was not deeply influenced by the imperial culture, but she was somewhat influenced by it. She dared not even think about such nonsense as "Are kings, princes, generals, and ministers born into different families?" She thought that "repaying the emperor's kindness on the Golden Terrace" was more in line with traditional values.

Being able to be a loyal minister to the princess and do good things for those who are less fortunate than she is is the pinnacle of life that the girl can understand.

She hoped to be looked at seriously by the Celestial Dragons, rather than being treated as a pariah or trash.

So when Hestia entered, Viola felt a touch of anticipation.

However, the princess didn't look at her, but instead studied her sister, Alice, with interest.

"Little thing, do you like staring at me?"

"Oh, sorry!" The little girl stuck out her tongue, but she wasn't afraid. She continued to observe. "This is the second time Alice has seen Her Royal Highness with such an extraordinary elegance, so I couldn't help but stare at her. Your Highness, don't you think Alice is being rude?"

"Interesting. Where did you first see it?"

"When I went to school with my sister, I saw the huge statue of His Majesty the Divine Emperor!" Alice said lively.