Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 158: Provoking the Witch!

Chapter 158: Provoking the Witch!

As the last princess summoned, Yveste followed the palace maid’s lead and slowly made her way into the Elohet Palace.

At this moment, Saint Roland VI sat on the throne with a calm expression.

Sensing Yveste's presence, his wandering thoughts refocused, and the once-deep look in his eyes sharpened again.

Father and daughter’s gazes clashed in mid-air, each scrutinizing the other briefly.

Yveste let out a cold snort, retracting her gaze with evident annoyance.

It was clear that their relationship wasn’t what one would call a typical father-daughter bond.

However, Saint Roland VI’s expression remained unchanged.

After a long silence, he finally spoke slowly:

It was apparent that he was inquiring about Yveste’s current physical condition.

Unexpectedly, upon hearing these seemingly concerned words, Yveste did not show a shred of gratitude. On the contrary, she scoffed at them.

“Don’t be so fake, old man,” she said, her eyes lowered as she examined her slender, elegant fingers. “You and I are not the kind of people who can sit down and have a civil conversation.”

“If you want to play the doting father-dutiful daughter act, why not find Aimestade?”

Her voice was soft, but the rejection and disdain in her words were undisguised.

After the incident in Orne City, the father-daughter relationship between them had completely fractured.

Yveste knew all too well why he had sent her to complete that task, and Saint Roland VI was equally aware that his intentions had been laid bare before her.

Hearing her words, Saint Roland VI’s previously softened expression instantly turned cold and stern.

“You’re right,” he said icily. “We’ve never been the kind of father and daughter who could communicate normally.”

“Yveste, it seems your journey to Orne City has changed you a lot.”

“Was it because of Lynn Bartleon?”

Upon hearing this, a brief moment of softness flickered across Yveste’s sharp eyes.

But once she realized the current setting, her expression instantly hardened again.

Saint Roland VI caught the fleeting change in her expression, and a faint smile—whether mocking or otherwise—appeared on his face.

“In that case, let’s talk about him,” he said, cutting straight to the point.

“Do you like him?”

Do I like him?

With Saint Roland VI’s abrupt question, the thought entered Yveste’s mind for the first time.

To be honest, she had never pondered this before.

During the Dragonfield Enlightenment, her only goal was to make Lynn overcome the ten-thousand-year gap between herself and the Witch of the End, irrationally compelling him to fall for her flawed self.

As for her own feelings for him... Yveste had never given it any thought.

Like him? Probably—very much so.

Otherwise, where would her wild urges to bite him the moment they met, or to tightly embrace him, pressing him into her very bones, come from?

Yet a sense of confusion crept into Yveste’s heart.

Was this fondness akin to how one might like a pet, or was it something else entirely?

Having never experienced such emotions, Yveste was unsure.

However, back in Orne City, she had already promised Lynn that she would try to see him as a man in the future.

Even during that incident on the train, she hadn’t been as composed as she had appeared outwardly.

Deep within her, some strange emotions had indeed stirred.

Especially the burning sensation from Lynn back then—a slick and sticky feeling that still lingered faintly on the soles of her feet.

Every time she recalled that moment, Yveste’s heartbeat would quicken.

But her pride as a master had subconsciously buried those thoughts deep within her.

After all, for her, the most important task at hand was making Lynn fall in love with her, his master.

Seeing Yveste remain silent, Saint Roland VI assumed he had hit the mark.

With a cold chuckle, he said, “How amusing.”

“That cold and ruthless ‘tool’ actually shows such an expression. As a father, I’m quite gratified.”

Despite his words, there wasn’t a trace of gratification on his face.

“Unfortunately... you’ve changed because of him, seeing him as someone important. But from my perspective, it seems he doesn’t share the same sentiment.”

“Yveste, oh Yveste,” he continued, his tone laden with meaning. “A ‘tool’ will always be a ‘tool.’ Even if it passes from one person’s hand to another, what the other person values is merely your monstrous strength.”

“This is nothing more than exploitation, and you must understand that.”

Saint Roland VI’s tone rose slightly, as if to emphasize his point.

Was he trying to drive a wedge between them?

No.

To some extent, what he said wasn’t wrong.

For the amnesiac Lynn, his loyalty and admiration were directed at that despicable woman in the future.

For now, she was merely a shadow.

Even if her adorable little dog came running to her, wagging its tail and seeking affection, it was largely because she bore such a striking resemblance to the future Witch of the End.

While this truth enraged Yveste, she had long since known it.

It was precisely why she was so relentless in trying to make Lynn fall for her.

So Saint Roland VI’s words were not entirely false.

Between her and Lynn, much of their bond was indeed based on leverage, and Yveste was acutely aware of this.

To put it harshly, it was mutual exploitation.

Even the moments of fleeting emotion were directed at her physical form alone.

They didn’t count.

But… so what?

“The future is long, and no one knows what might happen,” Yveste said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “For now, he hasn’t formed any connection with Shirina or anyone else. Even if it’s mere utility, his feelings are directed only at me.”

“Just knowing that is enough.”

The usual resentment and bitterness that often clouded her expression were nowhere to be seen.

This response took Saint Roland VI slightly by surprise.

For a brief moment, his expression froze before his gaze deepened, his face growing subtly more thoughtful.

“Very good,” Saint Roland VI said, lightly tapping his finger against the armrest of his chair. “As your father, knowing that both your mind and heart are growing well is enough for me.”

“And you’re right—no one knows what the future holds.”

“With the Succession Ceremony only just beginning, it’s still unclear who will emerge victorious in the end.”

“Even someone as overlooked as you… with his assistance, you may yet have a chance to rise above the rest.”

“You—”

“You didn’t summon me here today just for this pointless small talk, did you?” Yveste finally couldn’t hold back, frowning as she interrupted him.

She couldn’t tell if it was because her recent mission had gone too perfectly, or if her changes had exceeded his expectations, but she felt the old man’s attitude had shifted.

It was baffling.

“Nothing much,” Saint Roland VI said as he slowly withdrew his gaze. “I was just suddenly reminded of your mother.”

The moment the word “mother” slipped from his lips, the entire palace was instantly engulfed in an unprecedented wave of chilling, murderous intent.

“Don’t mention her in front of me…” Yveste’s voice was icy and terrifying. “You’re not worthy.”

With that, it seemed she no longer had the patience to engage in their hollow exchanges. She turned her wheelchair herself and prepared to leave.

Whatever had happened in the past must have been so grave that it elicited such an intense reaction from Yveste.

Watching her retreating figure, Saint Roland VI’s expression remained calm. “Fine, if you don’t want to bring up the past, then I won’t.”

“In that case, let’s talk about something you might find more interesting.”

“For instance… the ‘Sinful’ Cursed Sigil on your face.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Yveste’s wheelchair came to an abrupt halt.

A moment later, she turned back around, her expression icy as she stared at Saint Roland VI, clearly waiting for him to continue.

The mysterious sigil that had been etched onto her face for over twenty years had always been the root of her isolation and the disdain she faced from the world.

But to her now, it wasn’t as big of a deal as it once had been.

After spending so much time with Lynn, she had grown accustomed to ignoring her inner turmoil.

Still, every time she stood face-to-face with the perfect version of herself from the future, the sight of the sigil on her face would inevitably stir feelings of inferiority.

Deep down, she longed to restore her true appearance.

And now, it seemed there might be a sliver of hope.

Saint Roland VI met Yveste’s icy gaze and began speaking slowly: “Not long ago, the Empire discovered a mysterious tomb in the ruins of an ancient northern city.”

“Your Highness?”

Lynn’s voice broke the silence as he looked at Yveste, who had remained wordless since leaving Elohet Palace.

Yveste blinked, her crimson eyes regaining their sparkle. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? Lynn’s expression turned peculiar as he glanced at the carriage and then at Yveste’s tightly clenched grip on the wheelchair armrests.

Normally, she would have already stretched out her arms, demanding that he carry her into the carriage.

But for some reason, she now seemed lost in her own thoughts.

“What did His Majesty say to you just now?” Lynn asked as he lifted her into his arms in a princess carry and stepped into the carriage.

Eleanor and the staff from Augusta Estate had already left under Yveste’s earlier instructions.

Since her housekeeper, Kesha, and the others had returned to the capital ahead of time, accommodations had been prepared in advance.

Now, aside from a few accompanying maids, there was no one else present.

Hearing Lynn’s question, a flicker of shadow crossed Yveste’s eyes, but she quickly smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. “You guessed right.”

“That old man has indeed handed over the Night Enforcers to me. But I’ll need to arrange the personnel myself, and I must deal with the backlog of Extraordinary cases as soon as possible.”

“This process might be troublesome, so you’ll have to help me properly.”

As she spoke, Yveste tilted her head slightly, her pink tongue darting out as she leaned close to Lynn and lightly licked the corner of his lips.

Though brief, it left a glistening, moist mark.

“Consider this your advance reward,” she said, brushing back her black hair behind her ear with a seductive smile.

Here we go again… Lynn thought as he stiffly adjusted his posture to maintain control.

By now, he had grown somewhat used to Yveste’s overly intimate gestures during their time together.

She claimed it was all to strengthen the bond with her “little dog.”

“You’re poking me, you know.”

"Sorry..."

With just a few words, Yveste deftly diverted Lynn's earlier suspicion to trivial matters.

She didn’t want him to get involved.

Finally returning to the Bartleon Estate, Lynn had thought he would have a brief respite and a chance to use the parchment to contact the Witch and report on his progress with Tiya.

But to his dismay, Yveste stuck to him like glue, insisting he carry her all the way back to her room.

The moment the door closed, she made her move—abruptly and without hesitation. The sigil of the Eye of the Mind in her palm lit up once more.

Here we go again!

The Lie Eater was instantly activated.

Lynn's body felt as if his soul had been pulled out—sluggish and slow—but his mind remained crystal clear.

“Carry me to the bed,” Yveste commanded.

Feigning hypnosis, Lynn had no idea what new antics this woman was up to but could only obey.

Yet, the moment he placed her onto the bed, Yveste suddenly hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him down beside her.

Taking advantage of the lingering effects of the hypnotic state, she straddled him.

Her long black hair cascaded down, exuding a faint, alluring scent of roses.

Her crimson eyes fixed unwaveringly on his.

“What’s the deal between you and that so-called Silent Saintess, Tiya?”

In an instant, Lynn nearly lost control of the mental tremor and almost broke out of the Lie Eater's state.

Damn it!

He had been so cautious, yet just one or two fleeting glances between him and Tiya had been enough to raise her suspicions!

Is a woman’s intuition really this terrifying?

Lynn's consciousness trembled nervously.

Thankfully, Yveste still believed he was under hypnosis, so he decided to finesse his way through.

“The future you told me...”

Just as he began, Yveste's expression soured in displeasure at his opening line.

Fortunately, he quickly pivoted.

“Tiya Yuhesti will become the next Moon Goddess in the future and will pose a great threat to you.”

“In order to prevent the tragedies that befell you from repeating, I wanted to eliminate her before that predetermined future arrives—to reverse it all.”

“Additionally, in the future, Shirina—”

“That’s enough. Don’t say another word.”

Yveste suddenly lowered her head and kissed him, her tongue swirling aggressively as if to silence him.

Her cheeks were flushed, though it was unclear whether it was because she hadn’t been intimate with Lynn all day or because she didn’t want to hear anything about the future.

But as long as she knew his actions were for her sake, that was enough.

As for that so-called Silent Saintess… Yveste had no doubt that with her "training," her adorable little dog wouldn’t take a liking to some random stray woman off the street.

Damn it... Damn it! Lynn’s inner consciousness screamed furiously, but he couldn’t stop his "commander" from enthusiastically rallying its forces.

Noticing the change beneath her, Yveste’s face blossomed with a playful smile.

“Not yet,” she said sweetly.

She gazed into his dazed eyes again.

Because before that, there was still something she needed to do.

“How do you usually contact that wretched woman?”

Seeing the mix of excitement and provocation in Yveste’s gaze, Lynn suddenly had a bad premonition.

She gently caressed his cheek, her breathing growing slightly quicker.

“That’s right,” she whispered.

“I have something I want to say to her.”