Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 123: "I’ve Lost My Memory"

Chapter 123: "I’ve Lost My Memory"

“I never imagined that the little pup I raised has grown up so much without me noticing,” Yveste said with a meaningful gaze, her lips curling into a bright smile as Lynn carried her out of the bathroom.

Destroy me. I don’t care anymore.

Returning to the bedside with the immobilized Yveste in his arms, Lynn’s expression was completely blank.

First, she’d bitten him all over; now, she’d unlocked an entirely new level of torment.

Though he was the man, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the one being teased.

Watching Yveste wrap her arms around him without a word, Lynn sighed.

He had no idea what was going through her mind.

She didn’t ask where he had been during his disappearance, nor how he had survived the possession of the two demons.

She did nothing, said nothing—just held him tightly, refusing to give him even a moment of freedom. It seemed like she was terrified of him escaping.

Occasionally, she would mention moments they’d shared in the past: an unpleasant first meeting, a rescue at a banquet, or even a date.

Lynn simply listened in silence. He didn’t remember any of it.

To him, this woman was seriously unwell—not just physically, but mentally too.

She appeared to have no interest in the Succession Ceremony or the imperial throne. Instead, it seemed like she was using this fleeting, twisted connection as a way to escape reality.

Logically, they should have already boarded the train to the Imperial Capital by now.

But Yveste seemed unwilling to let him leave.

The two of them were entangled, spiraling deeper into an abyss of their own making.

The cold shackle on his neck, the scent of Yveste’s embrace, and the surreal nature of their situation all set Lynn’s mind racing.

He suddenly recalled the Witch mentioning something about a “critical juncture” before he left the Pantheon.

At the time, he hadn’t paid much attention. But now, it all made sense.

The Witch’s trial wasn’t about ordinary challenges. It was about altering Yveste’s fate: to prevent her from being imprisoned in the Stillwater Dungeon in the future.

To change that tragic outcome, he had to steadily increase the storyline deviation.

If Yveste continued to keep him confined like this, nothing would change.

She would inevitably repeat the events of the original story—falling into madness, being pierced by the Holy Sword, and ending up sealed in the deepest level of the Stillwater Dungeon for centuries before breaking free.

Even the reasons were obvious.

The immense force of narrative correction would likely reactivate the curse on her face, driving her to kill everyone around her. This would plunge her into insanity, causing her to launch an indiscriminate massacre against the empire. She’d be stopped by Hero Xiya’s party, as dictated by the original plot.

If Lynn wanted to prevent this, he had to pull Yveste out of her twisted mental state—or at the very least, find a way to regain his freedom and return to the Imperial Capital.

The shackle around his neck was clearly the “critical juncture” the Witch had spoken of.

If he managed to unlock it, it would mean Yveste had temporarily suppressed her pathological emotions and begun to act like a normal person.

But how could he do that?

Lynn pondered deeply, but no solution came to mind.

Two days passed.

In those two days, the “master and servant” seemed to have fused into one entity. They scarcely left the bed, and the shackle remained firmly locked in place.

Lynn had no choice but to carry Yveste in his arms for everything—meals, trips to the bathroom, and more.

Honestly?

If you ignored the warped dynamic of their relationship and Yveste’s occasional bouts of madness, the scene almost seemed harmonious.

Although… no real progress had been made.

The only exception was when Yveste suggested they bathe together.

Even then, it was nothing more than a bath.

She treated Lynn as if he were a precious pet, carefully washing his hair and scrubbing his back.

Her gaze held none of the desire typically associated with men and women.

This only made Lynn more exasperated.

He’d thought about taking a slow approach to ease her possessiveness and insecurities—to show her, through his actions, that he wouldn’t run away.

But Yveste seemed oblivious.

Instead, it was Lynn who started to grow complacent.

Being doted on by a beautiful older woman in such a carefree environment had a strange appeal.

If only it came with some… slippery, steamy, and salacious perks, he thought bitterly.

No, wait!

Lynn, have you forgotten the task the Witch gave you?!

You’re supposed to return to the Imperial Capital, confront the original heroines, and stab Hero Xiya in the back!

How can you lose yourself in the charms of this woman?!

On the third day.

Played with by the older sister.jpg.

Feeling Yveste’s warm embrace, Lynn couldn’t understand why this woman seemed content to hold him all day long.

But after four grueling days of resistance, he finally decided to take action.

The slow, subtle approach clearly wasn’t working.

To get Yveste to unlock the shackle, he would need to make a bold move—something drastic to jolt her back to reality.

As she lay on the bed reading, one arm holding him close, Lynn suddenly pushed himself up slightly, struggling to gain her attention.

Yveste noticed immediately, closing her book and gently cupping his chin. “What’s wrong?”

Lynn had barely opened his mouth before she cut him off.

“Feeling bored staying here every day?” She patted his head. “How about playing some fun games?”

“Your Highness, I need to talk to you,” Lynn said slowly.

At his words, Yveste’s expression shifted slightly, her brows knitting together as a cold glint flashed in her eyes.

“Whatever it is, we’ll talk later,” she said, as though sensing something was off and instinctively trying to avoid it. “I just remembered something interesting.”

She propped herself up against the headboard, tugging lightly on the chain connecting them.

“Remember when you first arrived at the manor? You were such a naughty dog back then, always eyeing your master.”

Stretching out one of her long legs wrapped in black stockings, Yveste smirked. “You even dared to sneak into my room and steal my worn stockings.”

No. That definitely wasn’t me.

Lynn couldn’t stop himself from internally retorting.

But Yveste, oblivious to his thoughts, raised her dainty foot and let the soft fabric of her stocking brush lightly against his chest.

“If you like them so much, I’ll give you a chance,” she said, her breath quickening slightly, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Go ahead, help your master take them off.”

“But not with your hands,” she added, pressing her stocking-clad toes against his chin. “Do it the way a dog would.”

Feeling the light pressure under his chin, Lynn took a deep breath.

That’s it. I’m done.

“Your Highness,” he began carefully, “all the things you’ve mentioned these past few days—how I first kidnapped you, saved you at a ball, or went on a date with you… I have no memory of any of that.”

“Maybe when I was possessed by the two demons in the Soren Mountains, my mental state became unstable. The Duke of Tyrius told me I might have forgotten some memories involving you…”

Before he could finish, Yveste’s stockinged foot suddenly pressed down hard on his face, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Her complexion turned deathly pale, her expression icy, as if unwilling to hear another word.

But this was a truth she had to face.

Lynn gently grasped her delicate foot, moving it away from his face.

Then, looking at her earnestly, he said, “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

“I… have lost my memory.”

Predictably.

That very night, Yveste finally unlocked the shackle around his neck.

In its place, however, were far heavier restraints locking all four of his limbs to the bedposts.

He now lay splayed out like a human “X,” completely immobilized.

To make matters worse, his mouth was stuffed with some unknown cloth, and a blindfold robbed him of his sight.

Oh no. I’ve screwed up big time.