Case 81: When the imperial princess gets mad.

*****

Imperial Palace, afternoon.

As usual, only constant scribbling of pen meeting paper rang in Rachael de La Fayette's office. For one, her mood was always the same—annoyed.

Of course, it was her sole wish to become the emperor of this nation someday, and for that, she could somehow manage. Nonetheless, it would be a lie if she said she never had thoughts about giving up. Not only was she twenty—a prime age to enjoy her youth—but the princess now had someone she wanted to pursue.

More correctly, she had been pursuing this person for the better part of two years.

Although it could be seen as strange when the two had done everything a couple might do and more, yet they weren't officially a couple, Rachael was somewhat content with it. After all, she could take that girl to her bed whenever she liked, sucked her blood all she wanted, and spending time with her was the princess's only relief these days.

Cecilia was Rachael's ideal partner.

Perhaps Rachael was to Cecilia, too, but it seemed the little seductress had but three ideal partners. She was so adamant about dating all three of them, including Rachael, that Rachael herself almost became baffled.

''Hah...''

Aside from this, everything was perfect.

No, maybe not.

As of late, the imperial princess had a bit of a dilemma—she couldn't bring herself to enjoy Cecilia's blood anymore. Even with the naked eye, one could see that Cecilia's health was spiralling as time went by. Despite the efforts made by everybody who knew the woman, she just couldn't get healthier.

Watching such a delicate person struggling more and more... Rachael didn't dare to let her shed blood anymore. Not as much.

Cecilia and Rachael still slept together often. Surprisingly, Cecilia seemed the most alive and well in bed, and it was also during those moments that the excellent temptress managed to reel Rachael in.

Gulp.

Thinking about that image of Cecilia, drowning in the act's afterglow as little trails of blood ran down her neck along the damp skin...

Rachael almost reached out to the phone again. She wanted to see Cecilia.

''Hm?''

But the phone reached out to her first. With a slight buzz, it signaled that a message had arrived.

The imperial princess only gave her number to a few selected individuals, and the only one on that list who would text at this time was her beloved.

Or so she thought.

''...''

For Rachael, who expected the usual greeting from Cecilia, getting a text from Lyra was almost a letdown. Yet, the content of that message makes her even more upset—to the point that the maid Kyrie even felt her boiling rage, standing right outside the office.

[My sister collapsed in the bathroom. Come see her.]

Immediately tossing the paperwork to the side, the princess briskly stood up and grabbed her coat, not before bringing along her phone. When she opened the entrance door, her maid was already in position, bowing respectfully.

''Your Highness.''

''I'll visit the Orleans' mansion. Prepare a car.''

With a troubled expression, Kyrie slightly perked up, ''Your Highness, according to the schedule...''

''Cancel it.''

Rachael's demeanor was telling. Kyrie had been by her side for a long time, and she knew the only person who could make her master this rattled was Cecilia de Orleans. Usually, she'd cave in right away, knowing she would probably not be able to sway the stubborn princess.

Yet, this time was a bit different.

''You promised to have a tea party with the fourth princess.''

''...Did I?''

''Yes.''

Among her siblings, Valerie, the fourth imperial princess, was the least threatening and problematic. After all, she was only twelve—a mere child. So, Rachael didn't mind getting along with her. She'd even found Valerie's fondness for her a bit adorable. Knowing the little princess, she must have been excited to spend time with her busy older sister.

But no matter what, Cecilia took priority.

''...Tell her that I have urgent matters to attend to. We can have a tea party next time.'' Rachael replied.

''Understood.''

Watching her master as she hurried away, Kyrie couldn't help but let out a sigh. It wasn't that she had particular affection toward Valerie, but the fourth princess could throw quite a tantrum.

With a dejected look, the maid contacted Rachael's driver, telling them to get ready, and soon headed to Valerie's quarters.

''...What did you say?''

''Her Highness, the third imperial princess, had urgent matters—''

''Is it that woman again?''

''That...''

Openly clicking her tongue at the inadvertent admission, Valerie crumbled her face. A certain flow of rage in her wanted to explode, but she tried to hold it in, staring at the ceiling.

'Cecilia de Orleans.'

The vexing woman who seduced her big sister and roped her into a shameful relationship. Valerie had her pride as an imperial, and she was sure that her beloved sister's pride was numerous times higher than hers.

So, rightfully, she couldn't understand the reason Rachael lowered herself that much just to be one of Cecilia's lovers.

'I need to wake big sister up...'

Meanwhile, at the Orleans' mansion.

Sleeping as if in a prayer, Cecilia exuded a strangely peaceful atmosphere. Right on the side of the bed, Lyra sat still, with her head hung low, grasping her sister's frail hand.

''...''

She had planned to take a bath right after Cecilia finished hers, but when Cecilia hadn't come out for a long time, she felt an ominous tinge and decided to check inside the bathroom.

There, submerged to the neck inside the tub with her eyes tightly closed, was none other than Lyra's stepsister. The feeling that something unfortunate might have happened would surely haunt the heroine for a long, long time.

Thankfully, Cecilia only fell asleep, but she could have easily drowned—she could have easily died. Just like that. So quietly, so unnoticeably.

Lyra felt utterly powerless. As she sat there in silence, countless thoughts crossed her mind. What was the use of every impressive magic or sword technique she had learned if she couldn't save her careless stepsister?

Lyra was clever. She knew she could temporarily influence Cecilia's behavior, but never actually correct them. Because she was only a 'little sister' in this woman's eyes.

It left her frustrated and desperate.

And in desperation, she turned to the only person who could reasonably 'correct' her big sister—Rachael de La Fayette. Lyra knew her big sister more than anybody. If she were to wake up, she would surely ask not to reveal this incident to anyone, especially her three lovers.

Right. Cecilia was scared—not of them, but of worrying them.

'I'm sorry, big sis.'

This time around, Lyra didn't think she could spoil her big sister longer. She had to do it, knowing she carried a genuine wish to better Cecilia's life.

Cecilia was still peacefully sleeping.

It was a solemn silence, but that was finally broken as Lyra heard footsteps coming toward this room.

''Little sister.''

''...Good afternoon, Your Highness.''

Rachael had finally arrived. She set her coat aside and quickly took a close look at Cecilia, not forgetting to question the reason her lover collapsed in the first place.

''...It's probably just exhaustion, but even then, this is too abnormal.''

''I agree. No one should have so little stamina.''

Caressing the sleeping woman's cheek, Rachael sighed, ''Even knowing her limits, yet so reckless...''

Soon, Cecilia slowly opened her eyes.

*****