64 - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

**Chapter 64: Why Trouble My Highness with Such Trivial Matters?** When it came to this particular topic, Duke Tiruwis chose to merely hint and not delve further. He didn't linger on the matter concerning the councilman but instead let his gaze sweep across those gathered. At this moment, compared to the earlier tense and confrontational atmosphere, the mood seemed to have shifted subtly. After his initial aggressive approach, Duke Tiruwis had tempered his intimidating presence, lost in thought for reasons unknown. The question of "who is entitled to the cake" evolved into "how to divide the cake fairly." What began as accusations against Mozeel and others transformed into discussions about the political structure of the Empire. The more perceptive among them grasped the subtext of his words and breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared that the duke sought to maintain an appearance of respect towards the Clergy of Heavenly Justice and the influential nobility of the capital. He was not eager to burn bridges completely, which prompted the shift in topic. With this realization, some within the crowd, gathering their courage, suggested, "Perhaps we could increase the benefits for the one dividing the cake, allowing them to take a sizable portion first. Maybe satiating their greed might lead to greater fairness." Duke Tiruwis shook his head. "Do you think human greed has limits?" "Once satisfied with a large piece, the desire will inevitably grow for a second, and eventually, even if they cannot consume it all, they'd want to take the cake with them. Such is human nature." Embarrassed by these words, the speaker lowered their head in shame. Several guests felt discouraged, and the crowd lost their momentum for further discussion. However, upon reflection, Duke Tiruwis seemed to make a valid point. Simultaneously, a question began to take root in the minds of many present. How, indeed, could the most equitable distribution be achieved? Clearly, no one naively believed they were merely discussing cake. Those present, all people of status and established beneficiaries, had their discussions limited to their own socio-economic class. A heavy silence fell over the hall. Noticing the silence, Duke Tiruwis flashed a smile filled with hidden intent and said, "Does anyone have a better answer to my previous question?" "Don't take it too seriously; think of it as a mere after-dinner diversion." "Moreover, if someone's response satisfies me, I'll offer them the last half-hour I planned to spend in the study tonight to hear their thoughts and perspectives." His words sparked a wave throughout the crowd. Realizing the underlying implication, a mix of shock and excitement filled the eyes of all present. Duke Tiruwis was now extending an olive branch. Unlike the coercion to pledge loyalty earlier, he now sought to recruit exceptional talent! Being favored by the duke could mean gaining a foothold in the domain of the capital's elite, a huge leap beyond the confines of their current locale! The crowd's minds were abuzz with various thoughts. Yet recalling the previous unconvincing answers, hesitation set in. After all, the issue of fair distribution was a fundamental problem for any country—one not easily resolved. As the guests sank into contemplation, Mozeel, silent until now, suddenly spoke. "Duke, if we're discussing such matters publicly, I believe there's a noble presence whose opinion we cannot overlook." Looking at Duke Tiruwis, Mozeel seemed to regain his calm. A noble presence? As his words circulated throughout the banquet hall, everyone was confused. Who among their ranks could compare to Duke Bail Tiruwis in terms of nobility? Sensing their confusion, Mozeel did not keep them in suspense. Instead, he lifted his head, directing his gaze toward a neglected corner. Following his line of sight, they noticed the figure standing beside Lady Tiruwis. She wore a red dress and a butterfly mask, exuding an icy demeanor. Yet among those who saw her, a feeling of mild aversion and anxiety crept into their hearts. Who was she? The crowd found themselves baffled. Mozeel raised his voice slightly. "Honorable Princess Ivester, do you have any insights on the duke's recent topic?" Ivester?! Why was she here at this banquet?! Could it be that the royal family was now meddling in the border tax issues as well?! Upon hearing the name, many people instinctively took a step back. The notorious Third Princess was not unknown to them. Even those unfamiliar with her cursed visage remembered her for her notorious deeds. The atmosphere grew tense and chaotic. All eyes fixated on the woman in the red dress, mingling fear and aversion in their gaze. Things had clearly spiraled out of control. Shift the blame. This was the strategy Mozeel devised once he learned about Ivester’s secret attendance at the banquet. He intended to shift tonight’s conflict and scrutiny onto the reviled Third Princess. It was loathsome, but he was at a loss for alternatives. Mozeel was well aware of the "Sinful Princess's" ruthless nature. But would she truly dare? Would she dare to kill a Church of Heavenly Justice bishop in public after angering Saint Rolan VI? Merely for unveiling her identity before an audience? Such an action wouldn't just mean his end but a declaration of opposition against the church and nobility. At that point, none could save her. Though her power was formidable, this world didn't permit unhindered whims, no matter the strength. Even the divine weren't exempt. Regrettably, Mozeel miscalculated one crucial factor. He grossly underestimated the extent of this woman's viciousness when cornered. Further, he lacked understanding of her terrifying true nature. Upon Mozeel’s abrupt outburst, Ivester’s icy gaze swept towards him. The room filled with an overwhelming aura of murderous intent, causing Mozeel, a fourth-tier transcendent of the church, to feel an instant chill as if plunged into an icy abyss. The emotions behind those blood-red eyes ignited a primal fear within Mozeel. He stood frozen, his legs trembling uncontrollably. No! She... it seemed she truly had the intent to kill! Mozeel instinctively realized. In that precarious moment, a voice unexpectedly pierced the tension. "Your Highness, I too am curious about your opinion." To everyone’s astonishment, even Mozeel’s, it was Duke Tiruwis who had spoken. Holding a wine glass, he casually smiled in the direction of the silent Ivester. "Uncle Tiruwis, why are you...?" Ivester stood dumbfounded, bewildered by why he was putting her on the spot like this. She couldn’t comprehend it. From his initial indifference to now making her the focus of attention. Even if he was truly unconvinced of her or unwilling to support her openly, why go to such lengths? Overwhelmed by varied glances from those present, irritation and rage surged within her. Being treated as an anomaly, utterly alone and scrutinized, had long been her deepest frustration. From childhood to now, such scenes were countless. Every time, just like now, left utterly isolated. Abandoned by the world itself. Ivester clenched her fists, biting into her palms with her nails. Damn it. She was on the verge of surrendering to the urge to obliterate everything. In a twist, the sound of shattering glass suddenly defused the gathering's tension. Everyone instinctively turned. In the crowd, a young man wearing a sharp-beaked crow mask held the remains of a broken wine bottle, capturing all attention. It was clear that he had deliberately smashed it against a pillar to create a diversion. “Oops, my hand slipped,” the young man said with a smile. Seriously? You're telling us you accidentally picked up a bottle from the table and just happened to smash it against a pillar at this very moment? Who would believe that! Though it was unclear what the masked youth intended, it was evidently a foolish move. Unfortunately, this young man in the crow mask was unaware of the thoughts running through the minds of those present. He strolled forward leisurely and picked up a glass of juice from the table, giving it a gentle swirl. It was just a glass of juice, yet his manner infused it with the elegance of a glass of wine. "Mr. Duke, it seems you were discussing a rather intriguing topic earlier. May this outsider join in for some delightful discussion?" he inquired with curiosity. Duke Tiruwis raised an eyebrow at the question. Surprisingly, unlike others around him, he didn't sense any guilt or intimidation from this young man. It was as though his authority was wholly disregarded. Interesting. "Certainly," replied Duke Tiruwis, casting a glance at him. "But I was inquiring about Her Hi—" "No need to trouble my Highness with such trivial matters," the crow-masked youth interrupted. His words plainly declared his stance. Duke Tiruwis paused momentarily, squinting his eyes slightly. He then turned around to face this enigmatic young man directly. "Very well, tell me, what in your view is the fairest way to ensure everyone gets their slice of the cake?" Duke Tiruwis asked, intrigued. He was curious about what kind of answer someone bold enough to deflect attention from the Third Princess would provide. If this was merely grandstanding, then he... All eyes fixated on the young man, yet the pressure seemed to slide off him effortlessly. The youth shrugged. "It's simple. If we're only talking about dividing a cake, anyone could do it." "Anyone?" Duke Tiruwis's tone grew colder. This response fell short of his expectations, branding the youth in his eyes as a mere attention-seeker. A subtle wave of irritation swept through him. However, before his anger could manifest, the young man spoke again. "Precisely, anyone could divide it." "But... they must let others choose first, leaving the last piece for themselves." The entire room was silent—every pair of eyes transfixed on him, awaiting his explanation.