"Ah..."
Any hope I had of finding out that it wasn't a curse was in vain.
I felt my breath catch for a moment at the announcement that Rosenite had become the Empire's Belladonna.
Unless it's a curse, there's no point in subduing Ambroxa. After all, the memories belong to Rosenite in the first place.
However, it is not possible to take reversible measures to erase the memory again. It may be possible to do so for short-term memory.
Well, forcibly erasing long-term memories of eight years or more would run the risk of turning a person stupid.
In the end, the time of grace was not long. Sooner or later, I had to face Rosenit, who had regained her memories.
I seemed to hear a voice in my ear.
"Sister, do you know what the flower language of belladonna is?"
"Ah, you're finally dead?"
At that moment, a cool voice woke me up.
“Then I guess I have to make a decision.”
A sharp gleam appeared in Michael's purple eyes.
“Killing the 8th Princess.”
“Michael.”
“You can’t die.”
Michael was resolute.
Kill or die. Michael has already made up his mind.
“I know you won’t like what I’m saying, but isn’t this for the greater good?”
Following Michael, the great sage also urged me to make a choice.
“What will you do, disciple?”
I remained silent heavily. I gathered my wits and slowly continued to think.
The answer was actually pretty clear. It's a matter of choosing whether to nip the seeds of disaster in the bud that might kill you, or whether to be indecisive and let recognition and emotion get the best of you, only to have it come back to bite you in the ass.
Still, I said,
“I have no intention of killing Rosie.”
“Eve.”
“Because all I have to do is make sure she doesn’t kill me. I’ll make her so that she can’t even feel the urge to live.”
"How?"
The great sage remained calm throughout, and Michael looked at me with a puzzled look. I declared in front of them,
“I will engrave Rosie.”
I, pretending not to notice the surprised Michael, added to the great save.
“Imprinting isn’t something that can only be done on homunculus.”
“Oh, you knew that?”
“Yes. There’s no way I wouldn’t know.”
In the first place, all tools used to handle homunculus were a legacy of the slave system that had been used since ancient times.
The imprint of the homunculus is the spirit that forces human slaves to obey.
It was a ritual created by modifying binding magic and grafting alchemy to fit the homunculus.
Nevertheless, human imprints, which are far more venerable than homunculus imprints, are not particularly strange and off-putting, simply because, unlike homunculus, humans are protected by Imperial law and imprinting is strictly forbidden.
I, who had become more daring while hanging out with Alben, made up my mind.
“I know there is a black magic of the psychic realm called Geass (Geass: Binding Oath).”
“Ah, dear. My disciple wants to use black magic.”
Even though he said that the great sage's lips formed a slight curve.
As if the child who got the answer right was special.
“You have a strong will.”
“This is the only way to protect Rosie.”
At this point, the great sage wanted to make one thing clear.
“Protecting? From what?”
... I see. I was a bit hypocritical just now.”
I admitted honestly, reflecting on whether I had become like Brigitte.
“Making Rosie mine is the only way to keep her from me.”
My eyes, as I spoke, were colder and more upright than ever.
This made it possible for me to both kill and protect Rosenite. It was truly a cruel thing.
The great sage, who knew everything, helped me make my decision.
“I will teach you Geass.”
“Thank you, Master.”
My eyes lit up with hope.
Meanwhile, Michael was secretly taking a deep breath.
'Silvy wasn't enough, now there's the 8th Princess.'
It looks like he's seen all sorts of things.
“Michael, let’s go back quickly.”
"Yes."
Not knowing Michael's speed, I hurried to the place to learn Geass.
The Geass, aka the Oath of Binding, targeting Rosenite was carried out secretly that night.
I sneaked into Rosenite's room on a cloudy, moonless night, wearing a black robe over my head.
The binding ceremony was completed safely, but unfortunately, its success was not certain. The reason was hibernation.
Hibernation had the advantage of putting Rosenite in a state of non-resistance, allowing her to immediately begin consciousness.
There was also a fatal flaw in that the magical reaction could not be confirmed.
“Once Rosie opens his eyes, we’ll have to carefully examine her condition.”
“Now that child is also a regressor. We must be very careful.”
“Yes. I will keep that in mind, Master.”
If it fails, the situation will become complicated and difficult.
If Rosenite develops the will to resist, it will not be possible to carry out the oath ceremony in a rush like now.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you, Master. Please take a look.”
The great sage left immediately, not caring even about the autumn night dew. I and Michael saw him off.
And the next day. As soon as I opened my eyes early in the morning, I received a special report from Cedella.
“Your Highness, Lord Alben Redmon here to see you.”
“Really? Take him to the powder room.”
The common belief that outside men are not allowed into the powder room was used in reverse.
Alben is a young man who once had a gossip with me, so I am in a hurry.
It was also convenient to use this method when conveying secret news.
Of course, Alben himself has no selfish motives toward me.
I, who had finished my makeup, appeared outside the partition. Alben immediately stood up and greeted me.
“Your Highness, how was your night? It is a refreshing autumn morning when the sky is high and the livestock is fat!”
“So, what good news did you come out of the gate this morning to tell me?”
As always, Alben did not disappoint my expectations.
“Everything is ready. Tonight, Your Highness, all you have to do is take up your sickle and reap the harvest.”
“Ah, finally.”
My gaze fell upon the ripples in the tea. Soon I smiled with my lips pursed and continued talking.
“It is time to harvest the heads of the nobles.”
The autumn night air was chilly. The sudden drop in temperature over the past few days seemed like a warning to prepare for the approaching winter rainy season.
Deep night when the moon is hidden behind the clouds.
The secret mansion of the Counts of Hardenfork, located in District 14, was quiet on the outside, but very noisy on the inside.
Here and there, in carriages parked on the grounds, figures as ornately decorated and masked men disembarked. They entered the mansion in silence, not pretending to know each other.
Click.
She adjusted her silver half-mask and headed toward the entrance of the mansion alone.
“Welcome.”
The gatekeeper was a wizard. Instead of checking identity and name, he used magic.
He just scanned the invitation to make sure it was authentic. And then he checked the artifacts.
He checked to see if they had a golem. Security was as strict as the palace to prevent leaks of internal information.
Finally, all the formalities were completed. The gatekeeper's sinister tongue dropped the permission to enter.
“Welcome to the Masked Banquet. I hope you enjoy the greatest pleasure on earth.”
“Of course, I think so.”
The masked woman, Eve, stepped into the building.
Any hope I had of finding out that it wasn't a curse was in vain.
I felt my breath catch for a moment at the announcement that Rosenite had become the Empire's Belladonna.
Unless it's a curse, there's no point in subduing Ambroxa. After all, the memories belong to Rosenite in the first place.
However, it is not possible to take reversible measures to erase the memory again. It may be possible to do so for short-term memory.
Well, forcibly erasing long-term memories of eight years or more would run the risk of turning a person stupid.
Moreover, the hibernation that had kept Rosenit in the dark was clearly limited. According to those with healing skills, hibernation can be extremely taxing on the body after a month, and it can actually kill you.
'If this life's Rosenite is superimposed on her past life's Rosenite...'
"Sister, do you know what the flower language of belladonna is?"
"Ah, you're finally dead?"
My sister's venomous voice echoed in my head. My palms grew slightly damp with goosebumps. In retrospect, the death was an intense trauma for me.
“Then I guess I have to make a decision.”
A sharp gleam appeared in Michael's purple eyes.
“Killing the 8th Princess.”
“Michael.”
“You can’t die.”
Michael was resolute.
While the Rosenite of this life had room to maneuver and reassess, the insane Rosenite of the last life was a definite enemy.
A slow, introspective search for memories, like Michael's, or an explosion of information, like Rosenite's, would likely overlay her past life's persona.
“I know you won’t like what I’m saying, but isn’t this for the greater good?”
He was right. Anything that threatened the life of the would-be Emperor had to be eliminated.
“What will you do, disciple?”
I remained silent heavily. I gathered my wits and slowly continued to think.
The answer was actually pretty clear. It's a matter of choosing whether to nip the seeds of disaster in the bud that might kill you, or whether to be indecisive and let recognition and emotion get the best of you, only to have it come back to bite you in the ass.
My mind was not in a field of flowers because it was five years ago when I put the fairy tale book down. There are plenty of stories about overcoming obstacles through the power of love, but we weren't the kind of sisters I'd expect to see such a touching outcome in the first place.
“I have no intention of killing Rosie.”
“Eve.”
Michael opened his mouth to retort, but I held up a hand to stop him, and I looked straight at the sage. The black eyes behind the owl's mask stared at me, testing me.
"How?"
The great sage remained calm throughout, and Michael looked at me with a puzzled look. I declared in front of them,
“I will engrave Rosie.”
I, pretending not to notice the surprised Michael, added to the great save.
“Imprinting isn’t something that can only be done on homunculus.”
“Oh, you knew that?”
“Yes. There’s no way I wouldn’t know.”
In the first place, all tools used to handle homunculus were a legacy of the slave system that had been used since ancient times.
The imprint of the homunculus is the spirit that forces human slaves to obey.
It was a ritual created by modifying binding magic and grafting alchemy to fit the homunculus.
Nevertheless, human imprints, which are far more venerable than homunculus imprints, are not particularly strange and off-putting, simply because, unlike homunculus, humans are protected by Imperial law and imprinting is strictly forbidden.
I, who had become more daring while hanging out with Alben, made up my mind.
“I know there is a black magic of the psychic realm called Geass (Geass: Binding Oath).”
“Ah, dear. My disciple wants to use black magic.”
Even though he said that the great sage's lips formed a slight curve.
As if the child who got the answer right was special.
“Black magic is a legal classification, but it's not really corrupted magic that draws on the power of demons or demi-gods. Just like drugs can be painkillers when used properly, black magic can save lives when used properly.”
“This is the only way to protect Rosie.”
At this point, the great sage wanted to make one thing clear.
“Protecting? From what?”
... I see. I was a bit hypocritical just now.”
I admitted honestly, reflecting on whether I had become like Brigitte.
“Making Rosie mine is the only way to keep her from me.”
My eyes, as I spoke, were colder and more upright than ever.
I was not unaware of the need to remove Rosenite if necessary. And I'm prepared to do so. But not yet, so I was just trying to find the next best thing I could.
The great sage, who knew everything, helped me make my decision.
“I will teach you Geass.”
“Thank you, Master.”
My eyes lit up with hope.
Meanwhile, Michael was secretly taking a deep breath.
'Silvy wasn't enough, now there's the 8th Princess.'
It looks like he's seen all sorts of things.
When the imprinting with Michael was broken, Eve stretched her power as if she had been waiting. Suddenly, he longed for the days when he could sit alone and hold down Eve's dominant share.
"Yes."
Not knowing Michael's speed, I hurried to the place to learn Geass.
The Geass, aka the Oath of Binding, targeting Rosenite was carried out secretly that night.
I sneaked into Rosenite's room on a cloudy, moonless night, wearing a black robe over my head.
I felt like a bad warlock in a storybook, casting spells on a defenseless sleeping child to make him submit to me.
Hibernation had the advantage of putting Rosenite in a state of non-resistance, allowing her to immediately begin consciousness.
There was also a fatal flaw in that the magical reaction could not be confirmed.
“Once Rosie opens his eyes, we’ll have to carefully examine her condition.”
“Now that child is also a regressor. We must be very careful.”
“Yes. I will keep that in mind, Master.”
If it fails, the situation will become complicated and difficult.
If Rosenite develops the will to resist, it will not be possible to carry out the oath ceremony in a rush like now.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you, Master. Please take a look.”
The great sage left immediately, not caring even about the autumn night dew. I and Michael saw him off.
And the next day. As soon as I opened my eyes early in the morning, I received a special report from Cedella.
“Your Highness, Lord Alben Redmon here to see you.”
“Really? Take him to the powder room.”
The common belief that outside men are not allowed into the powder room was used in reverse.
Alben is a young man who once had a gossip with me, so I am in a hurry.
It was also convenient to use this method when conveying secret news.
Of course, Alben himself has no selfish motives toward me.
I, who had finished my makeup, appeared outside the partition. Alben immediately stood up and greeted me.
“Your Highness, how was your night? It is a refreshing autumn morning when the sky is high and the livestock is fat!”
It was a refreshingly mean face, like a greeting. I smiled and took a seat across from him, sipping my tea.
As always, Alben did not disappoint my expectations.
“Everything is ready. Tonight, Your Highness, all you have to do is take up your sickle and reap the harvest.”
“Ah, finally.”
My gaze fell upon the ripples in the tea. Soon I smiled with my lips pursed and continued talking.
“It is time to harvest the heads of the nobles.”
The autumn night air was chilly. The sudden drop in temperature over the past few days seemed like a warning to prepare for the approaching winter rainy season.
Deep night when the moon is hidden behind the clouds.
The secret mansion of the Counts of Hardenfork, located in District 14, was quiet on the outside, but very noisy on the inside.
Luxurious but unmarked carriages constantly passed through the mansion's front gates. At the end of a long drive through the lush, forest-like gardens was a darkened mansion with no light peeking through.
Click.
Another woman stepped out of the pearl-painted carriage. She was no different from the other visitors, dressed to the nines.
She adjusted her silver half-mask and headed toward the entrance of the mansion alone.
“Welcome.”
The gatekeeper was a wizard. Instead of checking identity and name, he used magic.
He just scanned the invitation to make sure it was authentic. And then he checked the artifacts.
He checked to see if they had a golem. Security was as strict as the palace to prevent leaks of internal information.
Finally, all the formalities were completed. The gatekeeper's sinister tongue dropped the permission to enter.
“Welcome to the Masked Banquet. I hope you enjoy the greatest pleasure on earth.”
“Of course, I think so.”
She drew a dark curve on the bottom lip of the half-mask.
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