The Villain Princess survived the Imperial Riot

"No, nothing." The maid stared at the tablecloth, not daring to observe the princess's expression.

But I imagine that the princess would probably be very disdainful and contemptuous, which would make her feel inferior, but also eager to challenge Tianlong's authority, to make His Highness realize that she is a living person, and that she has the dignity to communicate on an equal footing, rather than being a puppy or a toy.

But every time in the end, she would lose all her spirit as if she was discouraged, thinking that she could never defeat His Highness, and could only be pinned down and whimpering for mercy.

This is a shame... This is clearly a shame.

But Viola couldn't help thinking about it over and over again.

"You haven't had any thoughts of dreaming recently, have you?" Hestia asked.

"Huh?" Viola was startled. "No, I was just reading."

"Even when reading, you have to pay attention to the balance between work and rest," said Hestia.

Viola was even more confused.

Is Her Royal Highness the Princess concerned about her?

The princess then added, "Sometimes, it's not that the mystics actively embark on a certain path, but rather that they are watched by the power of the Dream Constellation and become infected by that force. Due to a lack of training, they often become trapped in the Dream Constellation's vortex and stray from the righteous path illuminated by the beacon."

"I don't think I've encountered that." Viola nodded obediently, "But I'll remember what Your Highness said."

Iyana, who was sitting at the princess's side, asked in surprise, "Your Highness even knows such a secret?"

Hestia tilted her head and looked at the maid.

As an elf, Iyanna was the epitome of elegance and beauty. Her long black hair was woven into a bun, her makeup adorned with red; her eyes were full of affection, her smile was like a peach blossom. She possessed the graceful demeanor of a mature woman, while retaining the elegance of her youth. Her long half-elf lifespan allowed her to pass away gracefully, her demeanor even less profound than that of a princess.

Iyana felt a little flustered by the stare, and suddenly remembered that this was the first time in many years that she had asked the princess such a casual question.

If you shouldn't ask or cannot ask, just keep your mouth shut. This is the duty of a servant.

Normally, when talking with the princess, Iyana would carefully consider every word she said. Even though the princess had changed her temperament during this period, she still remained cautious enough, but now she seemed to be negligent.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness. It was Iyana who spoke too much." The elf quickly added.

"I am Hestia Lorraine Heberus."

Hestia leaned over his shoulder, her head tilted slightly toward the witch's mother. Her bare hand quietly crossed the vast chasm between the chairs beneath the table. She pressed the soft hand on his knee, her fingertips brushing against the inside of his skin like a spring breeze. "What secrets could there be that I don't know?"

Iyana trembled all over, her waist tensed by the electric throbbing. She wasn't frightened, just nervous, unsure how to face the princess she had practically raised.

She could only distract herself restlessly: "Did Instructor Noelle tell His Highness?"

"Noelle?" Hestia shook her head. "There are some things she's not qualified to teach the princess. But Aunt Iyana," she said ambiguously, "when will you teach me something new?"

"Your Highness, Your Highness has already learned very well... I won't..."

"Ok?"

Iyana knew she had said the wrong thing again.

As a servant, you should not refuse any order from your master.

She had no aversion to forming an intimate relationship with the princess, and wanted to bow her head and sing like a nightingale, "At your command, Your Highness." But she knew what the princess would order, and the thought of that possible step made some words difficult for her to bring to her lips.

She was a retainer of the Lorraine family, the maid, secretary and housekeeper of Her Royal Highness the Princess, but she was also a close friend of the Princess's mother, more than twenty years older than the silver-haired girl.

The fact that the princess still has a servant like her in her heart is enough to make Iyana excited, but now the princess wants her to be her slave, and Iyana is not mentally prepared.

The elf was very conflicted. She longed for the girl's passionate emotions, but the temperature was too high, as if it would burn her clothes called morality and integrity to ashes.

"Hmm..." Finally, Iyana responded ambiguously.

"What do you mean by 'hmm'?" Hestia asked rather unhappily.

"Of course...Your Highness has the final say." Iyana bit her lip, a thin layer of sweat oozing from her forehead. She felt relieved that she no longer had to make any choices. Facing the princess, she gave up thinking.

Perhaps this should have been done a long time ago... Iyana thought. Whatever the princess asked her to do, it wasn't her fault. She was a servant, so she should obey her master's every request... right?

"It's a deal then, huh?" Hestia's fox eyes curved. "Give me your guidance when you have time."

"Um……"

"Could Lady Iyana teach me too?" Viola, who couldn't understand the nobles' jargon, asked innocently. "There are many things I don't understand, too."

"You're not teaching me shit." Hestia glared at the maid. "If a puppy wants to learn, it starts by barking!"

"Ouch..." Viola was immediately speechless, confused as to why His Highness, who had been acting like a "holy king" just a few minutes ago, had gone berserk again. Such hurtful words were always so annoying, but Viola sadly found herself daring not to openly refute them, not even to offer an explanation, and simply endured it silently.

"Speaking of which, where did that little bug Miller go?" Hestia asked.

Even though she had turned Miller into a handyman, Hestia didn't drive her out of the manor. Since it was a bug, she had to keep it under her nose to prevent it from crawling into her ears in the dark.

"Miss Miller hasn't come back since training yesterday. She might have stayed overnight in the military camp," said Iyana.

"Noelle?"

"Well, Major Noelle is back."

"Interesting, High Knight, bugs, attacks, High Knight... attacks..." Hestia muttered to herself.

"Your Highness, have you thought of anything?"

"In theory, the Iron Army sentinels firmly control every checkpoint from the coast to the mountains. It would be difficult for the rebels to enter the upper city, let alone carry alchemical explosives powerful enough to destroy a hundred-meter-high colossus. That kind of stuff is under military control."

"Your Highness is saying... This, this is impossible. No matter what, I must report this matter quickly..."

"Why report it? You're just alerting the enemy. How do you know there aren't more bugs hiding in the shadows?" Hestia stopped the elf.

However, Hestia's real thought was - if you report this matter, the military will definitely send a secret cultivator at the Wanzhao realm to conduct a strict investigation. By then, how will I have the chance to devour a high knight?

Even if there is no substitution ritual, it is still possible to plunder the other party's soul through the Witch Book and play the role of Tashu a little.

"Your Highness is right," Iyana said ashamedly, "I was reckless."

"What are you talking about?" Viola was confused.

"I'm talking about how to humiliate you." Hestia said jokingly.

"..."

Just then, Mio suddenly cast her gaze towards the end of the restaurant. It was a wall covered with a mural of the Sun King of the former Fran dynasty reviewing his troops. Behind the wall was the entrance to the villa's inner courtyard.

"Your Highness, Miss Miller is back." Iyana said.

"Isn't that a coincidence?" Hestia clapped her hands and smiled. "Do you think she came to see me first, or went straight back to her room to isolate herself?"

"In any case, Miller is His Highness's personal maid," Iyana said. "Since she hasn't returned home all night, she should have gone to see His Highness first and explained the situation."

Just as Iyana expected, in less than ten minutes, Matidal Miller, who was familiar with the princess's daily schedule, found the restaurant. She first knocked on the open door, and then knelt down to salute the princess while holding her handbag and skirt.

"You didn't come back overnight, which is not in compliance with the rules of the villa, Miss Miller." Iyana said softly.

It's not that I want to kick someone when they're down, but if Miller is really a worm, then she should explain her actions clearly. This is responsible for the safety of the princess.

Hearing this, Matildahl glanced at the elf with hatred—

Take advantage of these few days to enjoy the last bit of favor from His Highness. Once I break your magic, His Highness will change his mind and know who is loyal and who is treacherous!

Volume 31: The Dreamer: . Voices from the Library

A newborn calf is not afraid of a tiger. Matildahl is not even a secret practitioner, so of course she cannot imagine how powerful the "elf slave" she hates is.

But Iyana was a submissive person and didn't argue with her, which instead encouraged her arrogance.

"Of course I have important things to do!" Matildahl proudly raised his neck, like a black, arrogant swan, his eyes sweeping over Iyana and Viola, who sat at the end of the seat. "Your Highness will one day become a great one on the Iron Throne, and as a servant, I must naturally become a reliable and loyal dog worthy of my master. I, Matildahl Miller, serve Your Highness because of my loyalty and martial arts, not through shameless seduction or opportunistic scheming!"

Hestia took Iyana's hand and played with it, then said without looking up, "So, what's your reason for staying out all night?"

"Yes, it's because I wanted to be a useful little dog for Your Highness, so I accidentally practiced swordplay until very late." Matildahl's arrogance immediately turned into trembling flattery when he faced the princess. "But Your Highness, I know you like to collect various incense burners, so I specially asked the elders of my clan to bring a specially made tower-shaped incense burner from the coast of the Ember Sea, as well as the local famous benzoin. It is very effective in clearing the mind and nourishing the spirit."

Matildahl opened her purse and presented the box adorned with jewels, diamonds, and gold foil, her head bowed in anticipation. If she had a tail, it would have been a propeller by now.

Hestia glanced at the broken and scabbed scrapes on Matildaal's palms, then took the box and opened it on the spot.

Inside is a palm-high tower-shaped incense burner with grooves at the bottom for placing fat-coated incense materials. The tower floors are opened with exquisitely carved window lattices. When the incense is lit, wisps of mist will overflow from the gaps in the window lattices.

"You are thoughtful." Hestia closed the box and put it on the side of the table, giving a rare affirmation.

Mattida was suddenly very excited——

The antidote was indeed effective. Even without being set off, it still made His Highness regain his friendliness towards her!

"Uh, that Your Highness..."

Matildahl was so happy she was speechless. She clutched her skirt, like a little girl from the slums who had eaten honey, her cheeks flushed and tender enough to drip with water. She clenched her fists, and the scars from her frantic sword training these past few days seemed less painful.

"Anything else?"

"Uh, yes, yes." Mattie said uneasily, "Your Highness, it's been a while since you reported to the military camp. I've recently learned a new sword technique. If Your Highness has time..."

"I'm not interested. Since you like martial arts, you can be a gladiator next time. Hmm... should I pick a griffin or a saber-toothed tiger for you..." Hestia supported her chin and thought with interest.

Matildahl's pretty face turned pale. She opened her mouth, her fear evident in her words: "Your Highness, I, I may not have mastered my skills yet..."

"So you're useless?"

"I..." Matildahl gritted his teeth and bowed his head solemnly. "Matildahl is your Highness's puppy, and of course he will also be your Highness's fighting dog. Even if the sky falls and the earth breaks, Matildahl will not let this fact change in the slightest!"

"Very good, very energetic." Hestia knocked on the table. "Then go down and practice swordplay. I hope you'll give a satisfying performance."

The puppy that was so excited just now turned into a wilted cabbage. Her smile was uglier than crying, but she still kept a seemingly cheerful arc at the corners of her mouth.

"Then I'll take my leave, Your Highness..."

"Miss Miller, you came back early and must be hungry. Why don't you stay and have breakfast?" Iyana held Matilda's hand.

Matildahl glared at the elf, his eyes glaring like a man-eating beast. To her, Iyana's words were full of hypocrisy, like a competitor popping champagne at halftime and asking her if she wanted a full glass.

However, all this champagne celebrated was her failure and shame!!

"No need," Matildaal broke away from Iyana and said coldly, "Please don't disturb me while I practice swordplay."

She glared at Iyana, her mind full of resentful thoughts about how to get the elves away from the princess.

Wait for His Highness to use the antidote, yes, wait for His Highness to use the antidote to break the magic of this bitch, and see how long you can be so proud!

As he said that, he walked out the door.

"Wait." Hestia suddenly called her.