61 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

### Chapter 61: Hmm, I Have an Idea When Lynn had changed into his formal attire and arrived at the estate entrance with Greia, a luxurious and spacious four-wheeled carriage was already parked in the middle of the road. The intricate thorn insignia carved on it indicated that it was the exclusive vehicle of that woman. "Young masters, please board the carriage. Her Highness has been waiting for some time," the elderly housekeeper, Keisha, calmly gestured from outside the carriage. Upon seeing this, Greia suddenly halted, as if he had thought of something. "Hmm, my stomach suddenly hurts. Why don't you go ahead with Her Highness? I'll catch another carriage and follow later?" He turned to leave as he said this. Of course, he didn’t want to find himself in close quarters with that terrifying princess. But Lynn wasn't about to let him have his way. Sharing a carriage alone with that woman might lead to some unwanted hypnotic incidents. He grabbed Greia by the neck, ignoring his struggles, and dragged him onto the carriage. From the outside, the carriage already seemed to be of an extravagant style, but upon entering, Lynn found the interior to be four or five times larger than it appeared. It seemed to be an effect of some extraordinary space-folding ability. Seated by the window was a tall woman in a rose-colored fringed gown, propping her chin up and gazing idly at the street scenery. Tonight, she had swapped her usual black patterned mask for a butterfly-styled half-mask, revealing her snow-white chin and glistening red lips, appearing both alluring and seductive. Upon hearing the commotion, Iveste turned her head to look at the newcomers, her gaze immediately settling on Lynn. He was already a remarkably handsome young man with his black hair, and now donned in an exquisite buttoned formal suit with a white lace underlay, he exuded an air of elegance and nobility. Iveste was quite satisfied with her taste. "Not bad, you look decent," she remarked nonchalantly after studying him for seven or eight seconds. After all, she had picked out the suit herself. Traditionally, a tailor would come to offer sample garments for the person to choose their own style. However, finding this tedious and driven by her urge to control, Iveste didn't even think of consulting Lynn, casually selecting one she liked. "You look beautiful tonight as well, Your Highness," Lynn offered, his eyes filled with admiration, much to Greia's horror. Iveste let out a cold laugh at his response, "You’re quite bold." But in the end, no actual punishment followed—perhaps due to a third party presence. After the brief interaction, Iveste glanced at Greia, who sat like a quivering quail in the corner as if trying to become invisible. He only hoped that the princess wouldn't focus on him throughout the journey. And so the situation remained as such—Lynn chose a seat across from her. As the carriage doors closed gently, the carriage began to glide smoothly along the road. Iveste looked at Lynn while resting her chin on her hand, "What do you think about the upcoming banquet?" "If Your Highness wishes to strengthen ties with the Teirwus family, you could cater to their desires," Lynn suggested after some thought. "If they want money, just give them money, right?" Iveste scoffed. "If it were that simple, would I be asking you?" She inquired, "To feed the three major legions under Duke Teirwus purely with wealth—even my wealthy brother would have to scrape the bone." "An initial estimate would require at least five hundred thousand gold coins," Iveste stated calmly. "And when allies are bound only by interest, they aren't very reliable, are they?" In other words, there's no money, Lynn thought wryly, yet he kept a straight face. After a moment's silence, an idea seemed to strike him suddenly, "Your Highness, I have a plan!" "Go on," Iveste seemed mildly intrigued, nodding for him to proceed. "A healthy adult male's blood volume is about 8% of body weight—around eighty thousand drops," Lynn's eyes sparkled with insight. "And according to my previous calculations, in Orne City alone, there are over five thousand clergy members from the Celestial Church. If we capture them all and throw them into the Greed Demon Box's hold, then perhaps..." "Alright, stop, you don't need to continue," Iveste interjected, rubbing her temples at the headache he was inducing. Greia, hunched in the corner, broke into a cold sweat. A terrifying demon is what this Lynn was! Compared to him, the formerly feared princess seemed almost benevolent. "I could have considered using death row inmates to exchange for some funds," Iveste admitted after a moment's reflection and then shook her head. "But the Greed Demon Box isn't as simple as you think." "The more blood it consumes, the more that ancient sealed presence revives within... It'd be a real hassle." Ah, so you’d already considered it?! Greia resolved to retract his earlier thoughts. Silence fell over the space once more, as the ride continued in eerie quietness. After about ten minutes, the carriage finally halted on a spacious avenue, its door swinging open. By now, night had cloaked the city, and the streetlights were just beginning to glow. Standing before them was a noble residence, not ostentatious in luxury but substantial, exuding an air of culture and modesty unlike the nouveau riche of Orne City. However, carriages cluttered the sides of the road, leaving no room on the once-spacious street. Nobles dressed in splendid attire walked proudly into the Teirwus manor, surrounded by an entourage of servants. "Let's go," Iveste ordered as she stood. "By the way, I'm attending this banquet under a concealed identity, so mind your behavior," she added as she stepped out, looking every bit the part of a queen dressed in red. Being in the know about her presence in Orne City was limited, so even with a mask, it was hard for others to connect her with the infamous third princess. Acknowledging her instruction, Lynn pulled out a pointed crow mask from his pocket as Greia watched in bewilderment. "What are you doing?" In response, Lynn replied seriously and loudly, "If I don't wear it, wouldn't Her Highness be the only one with a mask in the room? I figured I could at least help divert some of those prying eyes away from her." "You too, show some awareness as her subordinate!" He declared and promptly donned the mask. Greia was stunned, as if comprehending for the first time the treachery of people. Damn, is this targeting me? Looking around and finding nothing suitable to conceal his face, Greia’s expression darkened, resigning himself to his fate, inwardly furious at the sycophancy on display. No wonder Her Highness seems fond of him... Indeed, upon hearing Lynn's words, Iveste paused in her steps, a fleeting smile gracing her lips. --- "Your Eminence, about the banquet tonight..." a query arose within a discreet carriage parked at a street corner. "Yes, I'm aware," the middle-aged man referred to as the bishop replied indifferently. "The local powers, led by our Celestial Church, will likely face questioning from Teirwus, but that's expected." "If he has sense, accepting our olive branch would be best, and he'd walk away with some money. Otherwise, he shouldn't expect a single coin," the subordinate expressed some confusion at these words, "But he is a duke, after all, with control over an army..." "The Saint Rolande Empire has more than one duke with actual power," the middle-aged man sneered. "Besides, the waters of the frontier cities run deep, and he’s barely held his position for a year as provincial governor, so he wouldn't want to get entangled." "Otherwise, why hasn't he simply used his army to levy taxes?" "I see... Hey, wait, Your Eminence, who’s that?" The subordinate, catching something out of the corner of his eye, questioned, alarmed by what he saw. Upon hearing this, Bishop Mozel of the Orne City diocese raised his eyes to take a look. "Could it be... that's the rumored Third Princess, Iveste? Is she attending the banquet as well?" Mozel frowned. "But I didn't see her name on the guest list." "Perhaps she's attending under a disguised identity?" suggested the subordinate. Hearing this, Mozel fell into a thoughtful silence. After a long pause, a trace of coldness flickered in his eyes. "What do you think—if at tonight's banquet, someone's identity accidentally reveals that 'wicked princess,' wouldn't the scene become quite interesting?" --- **Note:** In reading mode, the next page cannot load automatically. Please exit the reading mode and click the next page to continue. [End of Passage Translation]