Night fell.
The princess had already changed into her formal dress, and with a nervous heart, had gone to attend that daily routine court banquet.
Franyong’s room returned to silence.
Before that, she had already explained the layout of the Royal Palace to Xing Yue in detail—where the guard-dense areas were, where the patrol blind spots were, which route was safest, and at what time the shifts changed.
Xing Yue silently memorized it all, then sent off her newly acquired “client.”
Now, she was the only one left in the room.
Xing Yue stood by the window, watching the gradually thickening darkness outside, and took a deep breath.
‘Okay, time to move.’
She raised her hand, faint light rippling at her fingertips.
“Dark Spirit, please answer my call…”
A dark purple glow swept over her body, and her presence instantly retracted until it was nearly undetectable.
Then, Xing Yue invoked another ability unique to witches—
Her body began to turn transparent, like a mass of half-congealed mist, blurring at the edges.
Double insurance.
Xing Yue looked at her nearly transparent hand and nodded in satisfaction.
Then she pushed open the window and slipped out without a sound.
The Royal Palace’s defenses were indeed very strict.
The light of torches flickered across the ground, illuminating every inch of every corner clearly.
Ten steps ahead, a squad of patrol guards was slowly walking past.
But fortunately, this palace—the most heavily guarded in the Empire—had all its secrets sold off cleanly by their own Great Princess, who had fallen and become an evil lackey.
Xing Yue pressed herself into the shadow of the wall, motionless.
Xing Yue held her breath.
The guards’ footsteps passed and gradually faded into the distance.
Only then did she let out a sigh of relief and continue moving forward.
This time, Xing Yue didn’t even dare to use flight magic.
After all, even Fran—a princess—was a fifth-tier mage.
Who knew what level of combat power was hidden in this Royal Palace?
Flying in the sky was too conspicuous.
If her mana fluctuations were detected by some sharp-sensed old monster, she definitely wouldn’t have an easy time.
She could only rely on walking.
On hiding.
On replicating the moves from a certain assassin game she’d learned.
Xing Yue crawled along the base of the wall, inching forward bit by bit.
At every corner, she would first poke her head out to observe.
If she saw a guard, she’d shrink back and wait for them to pass before continuing.
At one point, she nearly ran head-on into a lone guard.
Fortunately, Xing Yue reacted in time, pressing her entire body flat against the wall and holding her breath.
The guy had appeared out of nowhere from some corner, only three meters away from her.
Luckily, her semi-transparency ability was effective enough, almost blending her into the night.
The guard merely brushed past her, didn’t stop, and continued walking.
Even though she wasn’t discovered, Xing Yue felt like her heart was about to jump out of her throat.
After that close call, Xing Yue became even more sneaky than before.
If she’d been stealthy earlier, now she was outright slithering in the shadows.
Climbing walls.
Crawling through holes.
Avoiding patrol squads.
Dodging hidden sentries.
The entire process, her nerves were stretched taut like a violin string about to snap.
Finally—
More than an hour later, Xing Yue squeezed out through that remote small door, stood on the street outside the Royal Palace, and gasped for breath in large gulps.
She glanced back at the towering palace, and the corner of her mouth twitched.
A night wind blew past, carrying the distinctive bustling atmosphere of the Imperial Capital.
She’d finally made it out.
Demon King Castle.
Xing Yue’s main body was walking back to her room.
Her footsteps were slow and floaty, her eyes gazing emptily ahead—
No, more precisely, she wasn’t looking at anything at all.
Her full attention was on the Empire’s side.
That consciousness projection over there was scrambling through the Royal Palace, nervous as hell, so naturally she had no attention to spare for anything else here.
“Princess?”
Emily’s voice came from behind.
Xing Yue didn’t react.
“Princess?”
A second call.
Still no reaction.
Emily blinked, looking at the silver-haired figure ahead who was walking unsteadily, eyes completely blank, and a strange feeling welled up in her heart.
The Princess today… seemed a bit off somehow?
Just as she was thinking this, suddenly—
“Bang.”
Xing Yue’s forehead slammed squarely into the pillar at the corridor’s turn.
Emily was startled and hurried forward.
“Princess! Princess, are you alright?!”
Xing Yue held her forehead, blankly turning her head to look at her.
“…Ah?”
Those heterochromatic eyes still carried a trace of dazed confusion, as if she hadn’t fully come back to her senses.
“…”
She suddenly felt that today’s Princess really seemed very abnormal.
After returning to the room, Emily finally couldn’t hold it in anymore.
She sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the girl across from her—still sitting in the chair, still wearing that absent-minded expression—and spoke cautiously.
“Princess…”
Again, no reaction.
“Princess?”
Xing Yue’s eyelids moved, and only then did she slowly turn her head, looking at her in confusion.
“…Hm? What is it?”
Emily took a deep breath and asked carefully.
“Did… something happen today?”
She paused, a hint of worry entering her voice.
“Princess Xingyue, you seem a bit off.
You’ve been spacing out since morning… Are you okay?”
Xing Yue looked at those eyes full of concern, then smiled and shook her head.
“It’s nothing, nothing.”
She waved her hand and said casually.
“Just thinking about some small things.”
Emily blinked.
Really just small things?
She looked at Xing Yue’s face, which was clearly still spaced out, and the doubt in her heart grew heavier.
Then—
As if something had occurred to her, Emily’s small face suddenly went pale.
Wait.
This state the Princess was in…
Could it be because of…
She remembered her own very restless sleeping habits.
She remembered waking up in the morning, completely wrapped in the blanket like a caterpillar.
She remembered several times before, when she’d stolen Xing Yue’s blanket in the middle of the night, leaving the other freezing and curled up.
There was even one time when she’d rolled over in a daze and shoved Xing Yue right off the bed with her butt.
Although Xing Yue always said “it’s fine” and “it’s okay,” now seeing the other looking so out of it, a strong sense of guilt surged up in Emily’s heart.
It must have been her—doing something last night without realizing it, causing Princess Xingyue to not sleep well!
She bit her lip, gathered her courage, and spoke.
“Princess.”
“Hm?”
Xing Yue turned her head half a beat late.
Emily looked at her seriously.
“From now on… let’s sleep in separate beds.”
Xing Yue was stunned when she heard this.
“Ah?”
“I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Emily continued, her tone resolute.
“Starting today, I’ll sleep on the ground.”
Xing Yue blinked.
Separate beds?
She remembered that last time, the one who’d proactively suggested sleeping in separate beds had been herself.
Back then, Little Pink Hair had said it was fine, no need for the trouble.
How had things changed after just a few days?
“Why bring this up all of a sudden?” Xing Yue asked curiously.
Emily lowered her head, guiltily rubbing her fingers.
“I… my sleeping habits are too bad.”
“I always steal your blanket, Princess, and sometimes I even push you off the bed…”
“I can’t keep letting you put up with me.
I need to…”
She paused, her voice growing even smaller.
“Be more mature.”
Xing Yue looked at her guilty expression and suddenly felt like laughing.
She got up, went to Emily’s side, and sat down, unleashing a head-pat on the little pink-haired girl.
“If you’re worried because I’ve been acting a bit strange today, then you don’t need to blame yourself at all.
This wasn’t caused by you.”
“Because I really was distracted thinking about other things.
It’s just that those things aren’t convenient for me to explain in detail to you.”
“You just need to know that I’m not lying to you, or saying these things just to comfort you and spare your feelings.”
The effect was superb!
Emily felt the caress from the top of her head, that gentle touch carrying a certain familiar feeling, and an involuntary blush rose to her cheeks.
She let out a soft “Mm,” but buried her head even lower.
Meanwhile, Xing Yue thought about it.
She didn’t really care about sleeping in separate beds.
Since Little Pink Hair had brought it up on her own this time, then fine, they’d sleep in separate beds.
Besides, starting today, she would need to split her attention to handle things on the Empire’s side for a while.
When Little Pink Hair saw her constantly in this spaced-out state in the future, she’d understand that her distraction wasn’t caused by her.
So Xing Yue withdrew her hand and continued.
“But since you brought it up today, I’ll have Yang Dazhuang and the others set up a floor bed for you tomorrow.”
Emily raised her head, staring blankly as Xing Yue got up again and returned to the chair.
For some reason, a feeling of inexplicable loss rose from the bottom of her heart.
She instinctively reached out and touched the top of her own head, as if something important had slipped away from there.
And it had been let go by her own hand…
Emily suddenly came back to her senses, about to ask the Princess what she’d been thinking about today, maybe she could help share her burdens—
But then she saw Xing Yue had fallen back into that spaced-out state, those heterochromatic eyes gazing into the void, as if looking at some very, very distant place.
Emily was stunned for a moment, but in the end, she chose not to disturb the other.
Instead, she chose to stay quiet, leaving Xing Yue a perfect environment for thinking.
Tacit understanding?
Emily rarely didn’t have the urge to read a book to pass the time.
It came from some kind of intuition, or perhaps… maybe doing this right now was the wisest choice.
Instead, she propped her chin on her hand, gazing at the silver-haired girl who was spacing out, and unconsciously fell into a daze herself.
Who knew how much time passed when suddenly Xing Yue spoke.
“Oh right, Emily.”
“Hm? Ah? W-what is it, Princess Xingyue?”
“Speaking of which, when you were in the Empire before… did you ever go to the capital?”
Emily blinked.
“I have.”
“Then are you familiar with the place?”
“More or less… I’d say so?”
Emily was a bit puzzled.
Why was the Princess suddenly asking about this?
Did she want to hear stories about the Empire?
But it was barely nightfall.
It should still be early before bedtime, right?
Then again, the Princess really had been off today.
Maybe she just wanted to rest early and listen to a story to fall asleep.
So she didn’t get suspicious and simply nodded.
“Mm… the Imperial Capital…”
Her voice gradually drifted off as she began to describe the city she had once lived in, fought in, and eventually left.
Xing Yue listened quietly.
Half of her attention was still on the Empire’s side.
On the consciousness projection that had finally cleared the “Royal Palace” dungeon and was now standing on the Imperial Capital’s streets, looking around for a tavern.