Chapter 148 Whose subordinate is this Lynn? ! - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

"Your Highness, returning to Galosteen may not be as smooth as you imagine." "Oh? Why?" "What happened that day in the Sorlen Mountains is still a lingering threat." "You mean the incident where you were possessed by two demons?" "Precisely. It's not unusual for a human, especially one stripped of divine faculties and abandoned by the Church, to fall into demonic corruption. Once we're back in the capital, someone will surely exploit this situation." "So how should we handle it?" "There are two approaches." "Which are?" "Firstly, if necessary, consider the option of 'abandoning me.'" "And let you happily run back to ten thousand years in the future with that vile woman? Are you trying to infuriate the royal princess?!" "Ow, please, Your Highness, stop biting. I do have a second plan." "Tell me." "Since people are bound to attack you on this point, why not turn it to our advantage? Instead of letting them hold this threat over our heads, we should trigger it ourselves, making them feel the consequences." "How exactly?" "Once we reach the capital, we'll split up; you attend the ceremony with the others while I create a ruckus. The bigger, the better, hopefully right in front of His Majesty." "Those opportunists won't miss a chance to sink their teeth into me then." "Are you confident?" "Of course, especially with the witch's assistance. Ow! Your Highness!!!" "In my presence, do not refer to that vile woman like that!" "Your Highness?" The sudden address snapped Evester back to the present from her moment of distraction. Instinctively, she lifted the champagne in her hand to her lips, sipping delicately to cover the faint smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Simultaneously, she raised her strikingly red eyes to meet Afiya. "What's the matter?" she asked indifferently. Clearly, Evester was in a surprisingly good mood at the moment. Despite the fact that she was in a setting she detested, she seemed to harbor few grievances. The banquet was in full swing. Within the grand hall, guests moved about. On the stage, musicians played enchanting dance melodies. Nearby, a long dining table, draped with ornate cloth, bore costly silver candelabras and an array of cold foods, including steak, desserts, and fruits, available for sampling. The event drew over two hundred guests, apart from the servants. Each attendee was either a prominent member of the royal family or a distinguished noble of Galosteen. Notably, the first princess Silina, the second prince Ferit, as well as the sixth prince and the ninth princess, were present, engaged in conversations with throngs of attendees. The scene was not lacking in grandeur. The ornate hall was resplendent, with a crystal chandelier casting warm yellow light across gold-patterned tiles on the floor, exuding grandeur and luxury. A prominent bronze statue, several meters tall, stood at the center of the hall. It depicted a stern, authoritative man adorned in regal attire, a sacred crown upon his head, astride a high-stepping steed. This statue commemorated Saint Roland I, the founder of the Saint Roland Empire, regularly inspiring nobles and politicians frequenting the hall with memories of the empire's former glory. At this moment, the staff of the Augusta Manor clustered in groups around Evester. They endured scornful and scrutinizing gazes from several nobles, for the native aristocracy of Galosteen viewed them as provincial outliers. Participation in the ceremony was already a grace bestowed upon them. Afiya, adorned in a formal dress, seemed uncomfortable under such scrutiny. Leaning in closer following Evester's inquiry, she whispered, "I heard that the order of the ceremony has been rearranged. Captain Sia and her team, originally supposed to follow us, have been moved ahead." The news sparked a flicker of anger in their eyes. The difficulty of handling a level 0 containment breach and slaying a tier-five legendary demon was incomparable. The audacity of those in power to downplay Lynn's significant contributions and diminish the honor rightful to their group was infuriating.. utterly despicable! Evester lifted her gaze to the proceedings. On the platform beneath the bronze statue, a middle-aged man, dignified and crowned, held a sacred staff as he exuded a faint golden aura, invoking a sense of reverence akin to a divine miracle. He was St. Roland VI Calderon, the supreme ruler of the empire. Behind him stood several influential advisors, each a titan with enough clout to shake the entire empire - true figures of authority! One elder among them, with white hair and adorned in a red ecclesiastical robe, bore unusual gold patterns and gem-laden fabrics exuding both luxury and sanctity. Noticing Evester's attention, the elder offered a congenial smile, bowing slightly in acknowledgment. "." Yet, Evester's expression remained steely, her eyes glinting with coldness. The sudden rearrangement of ceremony order was undoubtedly his machination. She knew well. This individual, beneath his amicable facade, was a detestable old fox. Not only had he prophesied her as a child to bring disaster upon the world, contributing indirectly to the downfall of the Bartleon family and to Lynn’s loss of his divine faculties. His title was Conner Gregory, Cardinal of the Church of Providence, and one of the seven Electors. For these reasons alone, Evester and her faction were unquestionably at irrevocable odds with him. "Calm yourselves." After a brief silence, Evester spoke evenly. Reflecting on her agreement with Lynn, she opted for patience over anger, choosing to observe developments unfold. Moreover, her abrupt use of the transdimensional matrix to fulfill Lynn's aspirations had cost her strength, leaving her temporarily weakened. Now was not the opportune moment for confrontation. The staff exchanged glances, restraining their indignation, resignedly sipping their drinks. Witnessing their awkward presence among the entourage prompted further amusement among the surrounding nobles and royals. However, with St. Roland VI addressing the gathering from the stage, none dared to act out. "...Next, I shall personally award the military honors to the empire's valiant warriors, a testament to your blood and glory!" St. Roland VI tapped his staff on the ground, an invisible force emanating as a clear sound reverberated through every attendee’s heart. The awards ceremony formally commenced! Just as everyone anticipated the ceremony's continuation, a hurried figure dashed onto the platform. This person, a court count under St. Roland VI, whispered gravely into His Majesty Calderon's ear. Upon absorbing the exchanged information, a flash of anger swept across the usually solemn emperor's countenance. "This is... outrageous!" "Notify Edlin to lead the Silverwing Knights to handle the issue! Ensure the audacious culprit is brought to the hall... I wish to interrogate him personally!" After the count left to carry out orders, the fury in St. Roland VI's gaze persisted. A moment later, the emperor addressed everyone again, this time directing his query at the entire audience. "Who is this Lynn Bartleon's superior?" His sharp gaze swept over those gathered below, his query resonating icily. Upon hearing Saint Roland VI’s abrupt inquiry, the awards ceremony was temporarily put on hold, and everyone exchanged glances, keen to uncover the true identity of this Lynn. Upon realizing his surname, many fell silent, their eyes filled with astonishment. Graya, Morris, and others exchanged glances, collectively inhaling sharply. They drank furiously, trying to suppress their shock and exasperation. Beyond Augusta Manor, Lynn’s name struck a chord of recognition with several others. In the crowd, the second prince, Ferit, instinctively lowered his head. Indeed. Longing for your return to the capital was the right call. You've already caused a commotion significant enough to capture father's attention on your very first day. Yet, with Mosgla family’s patriarch and the Cardinal of the Church of Providence both present, how will you face these old adversaries? Such intrigue. A faint, almost imperceptible smile curled on the silver-haired youth's lips. Besides Ferit, the first princess Silina wore a peculiar expression as well. She furrowed her brows subtly, seemingly taken aback hearing that man’s name in such a solemn and formal setting. Beside her, Sia’s eyes flared with anger, and she unconsciously clenched her fists. Meanwhile, Tia, quietly in the corner, couldn’t help but recall their recent conflict, biting her lip in frustration. Why does this damned person keep resurfacing? She took a deep breath, trying to quell her irritation. At that moment, silence reigned throughout the hall, with everyone’s thoughts diverging over this unexpected individual. Seeing no response, Saint Roland VI’s gaze naturally shifted to his third daughter, Evester. In that instant, a silent exchange transpired between father and daughter. Her striking red eyes seemed devoid of emotion, yet perhaps tinged with a hint of mockery.