The Heroines Who Framed Me Are Clinging to Me
Chapter 20 - The Princess of Rebellion

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 20 - The Princess of Rebellion

The great ancestors of the Estrid bloodline.

Estrid is the sole lineage that can rule the empire.

They are fearless, brave, sometimes cold, and capable of both domination and leadership.

The greatness of the Estrid bloodline is the most significant reason the empire has survived for hundreds of years.

Of course, not everyone born into the lineage is the same. While the Estrid family is generally great, there are certainly mutations among them.

Some have been too brave, dying at the front lines of war, while others have been so timid that they never ventured out of their hiding places. Some were so ruthlessly cold that they treated people like mere numbers. Occasionally, such Emperors have existed, proving that even within the same bloodline, there can be vast differences.

Then one day, the empire's citizens realized something.

The blood of Estrid also harbors madness.

The realization came with the ascension of a particular Emperor.

He was capable and brought prosperity to the empire.

Festivals were held daily, men and women met eyes, the streets were filled with playing children, and songs of peace were sung. Everyone looked up to the young Emperor.

Then, one day, an entire city disappeared.

Men, women, children, and the elderly were all slaughtered. Blood flowed from the city like a river, and corpses piled up like mountains. Above it all floated one man—the Emperor.

A demon, or something far worse.

The only one to have his title as Emperor stripped away, the blemish on the great Estrid bloodline.

Ortega Estrid.

With his emergence, the people of the empire realized that the blood of Estrid also carried madness.

And they feared.

For they never knew when that madness might blossom again.

"Would you like to meet the 3rd Princess together?"

Lloyd silently looked up at the Duchess as she asked.

The 3rd Princess.

Yulia Estrid.

According to Lloyd's knowledge, Princess Yulia eventually commits treason. She pretends to be uninterested in power, hiding her claws until the moment is right, and then suddenly bares them.

Could she be one of the Estrid bloodline engulfed by madness?

It seemed likely.

No, it was almost certain.

Lloyd bowed to the Duchess.

It wasn’t time to meet the princess just yet.

"I apologize, but I'm afraid I cannot today."

"Why not?"

"I’m feeling extremely dizzy, and my condition is quite poor. I’m concerned that I might commit some discourtesy."

The Duchess glanced down at Lloyd.

Indeed, he did look unwell.

Naturally.

‘He's holding out better than expected.’

The moment the mark of the Blood Cult darkened, the possession began.

The dizziness would not subside. The energy of the blood would disturb his brain. Eventually, he would become a fanatic loyal to the Blood Cult.

But Lloyd was holding out surprisingly well.

How was he managing it?

The Duchess had seen countless members of the Blood Cult, even high priests with extraordinary mental strength, yet none held out as well as this boy.

The Duchess found it both intriguing and amusing.

Lloyd, on the other hand, felt like he was dying.

‘...Damn it.’

With the dizziness growing more intense, Lloyd felt like he might vomit at any moment. But he could endure it.

The various psychological symptoms he had suffered since his execution were, in a way, helping him now. His brain had become accustomed to all kinds of hallucinations and delusions, allowing him to manage for the time being.

Meeting a princess who might be consumed by madness in this state? It was out of the question. He was already dealing with Ortega, the very embodiment of the Estrid family's madness, within his own body. What would happen if two such bloodlines faced each other was unpredictable.

‘I need to replace the antidote.’

More important than anything was the antidote.

The antidote that the White Knight Arno had mentioned. It was supposedly in the quarters where he had stayed. Fortunately, that was near Lloyd's quarters. Since the servants were housed in the annex, not the main building, and with the important guest visiting, the mansion's focus would be on the main building. It was the perfect opportunity.

"May I rest today, with your permission, Your Grace?"

Lloyd's voice trembled slightly as he pleaded.

That alone satisfied the Duchess.

Soon, this boy would belong entirely to the Blood Cult.

The Duchess’s touch became more gentle.

"Very well. Go and rest."

Lloyd stood up and bowed deeply.

"Thank you."

As he was leaving the room, the Duchess whispered after him.

"Don’t worry too much. It's just part of becoming a member of the Blood Cult."

The blackened mark throbbed.

◆

The layout of the Gray Duke Mansion was complex.

It was primarily divided into the main building, where the duke’s family and important guests stayed, and several annexes where the servants and lesser guests were housed. While it seemed like these areas were distinctly separated, there were also numerous secret passages for the servants to move through.

Fortunately, the quarters where Arno had stayed were in the same annex as Lloyd's.

With the important guest, the princess, visiting now, the guards and the Blood Cult’s disguised high-ranking members would likely only be guarding the entrances to the annex.

Lloyd quietly checked his watch.

Five in the afternoon.

Dinner would start soon.

It was the busiest time of day for most of the servants.

Lloyd left his room.

— Creak.

He carefully closed the door.

The hallway was empty.

Arno's quarters were one floor up.

"Whew."

As he focused his senses, his head tightened painfully.

A flood of information rushed in all at once.

The sound of a mouse scurrying on the roof, the smell of corn soup stuck to the floor, even the tiny particles of dust floating in the distance. Everything became vivid data flooding his mind. Among the flood, there were spaces where his senses were completely blocked—likely places connected to the Blood Cult.

— Drip.

Lloyd wiped away the nosebleed trickling down.

He calmed his senses slightly and began to move.

As expected, the stairwell and hallway were empty.

Arno's quarters were one floor up, near the stairs.

— Creak.

As he opened the door, a mix of scents wafted out.

Thankfully, the room hadn’t been cleaned yet.

"Well, it hasn’t been long since Arno died."

Was it lucky that the mansion was so busy today?

Where would the drug that maintained mental stability be hidden?

Desk drawer.

Nothing.

Under the bed.

Nothing.

A particularly creaky floorboard.

"A notebook?"

He kept that aside for now.

After thoroughly searching the room, Lloyd found several unusual pieces of clothing.

They were unnaturally neat.

Moreover, Lloyd’s sensitive eyes caught sight of something odd in the stitching.

It looked as if someone with no sewing skills had clumsily stitched it together.

When he touched it, the lining easily tore open.

— Rip.

A few small tubes fell onto the bed.

Lloyd picked one up and held it to the light.

It was an opaque tube, so he couldn’t see inside.

But he heard the liquid sloshing around.

When he opened the cap, a sharp needle was revealed.

Was it a syringe?

"The liquid must come out when the tube is squeezed."

Lloyd studied the tube for a moment.

— Squeeze.

He then immediately injected the needle.

The liquid spread through his forearm with a sharp sensation.

It couldn't have been poison.

The amount of liquid was too much for that.

"......."

It didn’t take long for the drug to spread through his body.

...What is this feeling?

Lloyd blinked blankly as he sat on the bed.

The applause. The cheers. Ortega’s voice. The flood of information his sensory organs had gathered. The sharp emotions. The incessant chaos in his mind quieted instantly.

Only then did he realize that the energy from the Blood Cult’s mark had been clouding his mind. His brain, which had seemed trapped in a black fog, cleared almost instantly.

According to the White Knight Arno’s explanation, this was likely a sedative.

But instead of feeling drowsy, Lloyd felt more awake. His brain was clearer than ever, and his body, which had been hyper-sensitive to pain, felt refreshed.

Lloyd stood up and stretched out his hand. It was as if he had been trapped in the deep sea and had finally emerged. His body felt light.

— Thud.

A notebook that had been lying on the bed fell to the floor.

Lloyd picked it up and began to read. Each letter imprinted itself into his mind. This was likely the true extent of this body’s natural abilities.

[Report Log]

The notebook was a sort of report compiled by Arno. It was filled with information about Duchess Gray and the mansion.

As he skimmed through the notebook, mentally capturing each page like a photograph, Lloyd paused at one passage.

The basement.

— Discovered a passage leading underground.

— According to the design, this mansion shouldn't have a basement.

— A consistent number of people have been disappearing from the mansion. Possible connection; further investigation required.

"...This is."

This was the same basement mentioned in the [Journal].

The journal had seemed wary of Lloyd knowing about the basement.

‘Should I look into this later?’

It was suspicious. But he didn’t have time to deal with such mysteries at the moment. This was the headquarters of the Blood Cult, after all. While it was unusual, it wasn’t entirely surprising that a few people had gone missing.

What was more important was the princess.

The 3rd Princess, Yulia.

He needed to come up with a way to win her over...

— Clunk.

The door suddenly swung open.

It was then that Lloyd realized his focus had dulled his senses.

A habit he had developed to survive in this body had turned against him.

Lloyd turned his head toward the door.

"Hector?"

Familiar faces stood there.

Each of them was holding a weapon.

— Thunk!

A dagger grazed past, embedding itself in the wall.

Blood trickled down Lloyd's cheek.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]