"Ah…"
What that mischievous yet captivating smile implied came through strongly.
She remembered his bold preference—how he'd once said that if they were somewhere secluded, she should at least push him against a wall and kiss him.
Eve let out a small, helpless laugh. There was no way she could match Mikael when he struck with that kind of strange, sudden teasing at just the right moment.
"We're underwater."
"It'll be nice. It brings back memories."
"In the middle of an important mission, and you're seducing me."
"…Do you dislike it?"
Her prim, restrained retort only went that far.
With a face flushed red, Eve confessed.
"No."
If anything, Eve had been conscious of Mikael's lips ever since she cast the breathing spell.
The moment Mikael revealed his desire, a thirst-like sensation grew stronger.
At Eve's honest answer, Mikael's gaze deepened.
That was the moment the composure he'd barely been maintaining disappeared.
"Eve."
A large, hot hand cupped Eve's cheek as if supporting it. His beautiful face, eyes as if bewitched, drew close.
Glub glub.
Their lips met amid bubbles. The air lingering in their mouths, held there by the breathing spell, blended into one.
"Mmph…"
The beginning resembled an air kiss, like their first kiss.
Each time she drank in his sweet breath, her chest grew hot.
Pressed tightly together, they traced each other's faces with their fingertips, as if drawing over them.
Their touches were careful to a fault, as though each found the other unbearably precious and dear.
But the softness born of restraint didn't last long.
The hand wrapped around Eve's shoulder trembled in fine shakes, then tightened with force.
"Mmph."
He rubbed their lips together strongly.
Through the mouth that opened as if to devour her, Eve accepted his red tongue.
"Ah, mmph… mm…"
Eve, too, pulled Mikael's cheek closer.
Soon, their tongues tangled aggressively.
It was a fierce kiss, as if they were competing in desire.
Even as he pressed her relentlessly, Mikael still seemed to be enduring something.
With his eyes tightly shut, his brow was drawn together.
Eve stared hazily at that face—so attractive even in its frown—and responded to his desire.
Even with the breathing spell, it didn't take long for breathlessness to swell up in her.
Only when they reached a point where they truly couldn't endure any longer did the two finally part their reddened lips and draw back slightly.
Glub glub.
Even as their chests heaved roughly, their gazes remained fixed, refusing to stop craving each other.
Both of their eyes were dark with heat.
Rather than quenching thirst, the kiss seemed to have summoned an even larger, more vicious thirst.
"Eve…"
The low baritone calling Eve, as if sighing, was thickly husky.
In this moment, Mikael felt temptation so intense it was almost desperate.
He wanted to take Eve and go somewhere—anywhere—right now.
Someplace with no one at all, if possible.
"Eve…"
All sorts of irreverent thoughts threatened to whip through his mind.
It was the moment he even felt like he might go mad.
"Haaah…"
That sigh didn't come from Mikael.
It came from Eve.
She, too, was sighing just the same.
"If I'm like this even after I become Emperor, what then?"
"Eve?"
"If I fall into lust and neglect state affairs, what do I do?"
"…What?"
"I might pounce on you anywhere, regardless of time or place, Mikael. I'll be recorded in history as a tyrant."
Eve was genuinely worried.
From Mikael's perspective, it was an anguish so thrilling his mind threatened to go blank.
He lost his words for a moment, and in the meantime, Eve's plaintive complaining continued.
"This is all because of you, Mikael. You woke up the Imperial blood that had been sleeping inside me."
"…I see. It's because of me."
"Right. Take responsibility."
"…All right."
"You promised. Just you wait until we get back to the capital."
Mikael nodded diligently, without even realizing what he was agreeing to.
They traded playful words, making a vow as if sharpening their resolve.
In the meantime, the dangerous impulse that had seized Mikael seemed to have been ventilated away.
He let out a quiet, involuntary chuckle.
"As expected—you always make me into a proper knight."
"Hm?"
"No. More importantly, shouldn't we finish what we were doing?"
"Yeah… It's a shame, but we should…"
Eve forced herself to let go of her lingering attachment to Mikael's lips and resumed the search.
And at last, Eve gained results.
In her amber eyes, having found what she'd been hoping for, a vivid spark rose.
"Mikael, look at this."
"A branch with leaves."
On a long branch that looked like it might be about the length of Eve's arm, a tiny bud—about the size of her thumbnail—had sprouted.
When she peeled back the bark a little, it was still fresh and green.
"If we keep looking, there should be a few more like this. It must be these branches holding on that have been purifying the lake."
"What do you plan to do now?"
"We're taking it."
"If you break it off, won't it die?"
"No. Rather, we have to cut it to save it. The World Tree is a plant, after all. If we take cuttings and root them in the ground, we should be able to make them into independent individuals."
"How fascinating."
Borrowing Nightray from Mikael, Eve cut the branch.
Only after sawing at it for a long while—grinding it down like a saw—did it finally cut through.
"How can the hardness of a tree be like a famed sword forged from a mix of mithril and blackgold? Is the trunk made of diamond or something?"
"Seriously. You could make a sword out of it. Even weakened, it's like this—if it were in sturdy condition, even Mikael would've needed to use sword aura to cut it."
Eve then split the branch precisely in two again.
What had been arm-length became only forearm-length.
"You're making two trees?"
"Yeah. One for Dandelion, and one for Lapis."
She also meant to propagate one for the well site that had been contaminated by Thought Poison because of Hosen Sanchez.
"Let's go back out."
Eve and Mikael rose together to the surface. After drying their clothes with drying magic, they each put on their outer garments.
To preserve its moisture, they cast a separate spell on the World Tree branch.
"Your Highness, were you safe?"
"Did you find what you wanted?"
"Yeah. Nothing happened, and I found it."
To the curious Punishment knights, Eve smiled brightly.
"I'll tell you later what I found. I'll show you something truly incredible, so look forward to it."
"Yes, Your Highness."
The Punishment knights were already always anticipating what their liege might do next.
With a promise to show them something extraordinary with their own eyes, a vivid light rose in everyone's gaze.
Meanwhile, watching this, Mikael was quite surprised.
Because what he'd just seen from the Punishment knights didn't resemble homunculi trained to obey without emotion.
'These guys…'
Even fellow homunculi who weren't imprinted were already acting cute in front of Eve.
Thinking that his share of "Imperial Princess" time would shrink even more made Mikael feel a little sad.
Around then, Eve confirmed that the magical beast corpses—no, the game—had been fully organized.
There was so much that it took quite a while just to cast Preservation Magic over it all.
"Whew… With this, we can keep our sausage stew promise."
So many spoils filled Eve with satisfaction. It had been a rewarding exploration.
Several hours later, in the early afternoon—
Though the sun had long since passed its highest point, inside the barracks a blonde girl slept.
Even sprawled on a shabby cot, her entire body smeared with green slime, she was dazzlingly pretty.
That girl was Rosenitte.
"Ugh!"
With a sound as if her breath might stop, Rosenitte jerked upright.
Her whole body was drenched in cold sweat.
She didn't remember, but it felt like she'd had an extremely creepy, unpleasant dream.
Seized by anxiety, Rosenitte trembled violently and shouted,
"T-There's no one outside?!"
It wasn't the refined speech of the White Rose of the Empire, who usually used honorifics even with her inferiors.
Right now, she had no room to put on airs.
Fortunately, someone soon entered the barracks.
"Your Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess, you're awake."
"Y-You are…?"
Sylvestian was nowhere to be seen, and instead a brown-haired noble Young Lady leaned in.
She looked familiar.
She was one of the maids of that uniformed Unni.
"My name is Peony Graniche. Did you sleep well, Your Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess?"
Peony set down a basin filled with water and wet a cloth.
At first, Rosenitte thought she had come in to clean the barracks.
"Where is Sir Millard?"
"Sir Millard stepped out briefly because monsters appeared in front of the village."
"How long did I sleep?"
"A full day. You must have been very tired. You could've slept more, honestly…
Anyway, the pack should've absorbed into your skin 충분히 while you slept, so I'll wipe it off now."
"A pack?"
It was as Rosenitte asked in confusion.
Peony abruptly thrust the cloth toward Rosenitte's face.
Rosenitte recoiled in shock, about to tell her to stop—then she saw her own hand, stained green.
It served as a splendid stimulant for awakening.
Rosenitte could recall what happened just before she fainted—getting drenched in troll blood.
"Kyaaaah!"
A scream loud enough to make ears ring burst out.
"Are you all right, Your Highness!"
As expected of her Personal Knight, Sylvestian reacted at once and rushed into the barracks.
Rosenitte, looking between Peony and Sylvestian, shouted,
"You—You left me like this?!
Me—how could you! H-How could you! Is this Eve Unni's doing?! Where is Eve Unni?!"
A swell of resentment surged up.
She was furious enough to die at Brigitte's obnoxious disregard, and thinking Eve had done this too made her feel utterly unable to endure it.
Incomprehensibly, something like betrayal even welled up, and Rosenitte glared.
It was right as Rosenitte, eyes bloodshot, began drawing up a poisonous aura—
That Peony spoke in a bright, bubbly voice that didn't fit the situation at all.
"Oh my, Your Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess. You're misunderstanding. Our Highness was helping with Your Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess's skin beauty."
"…Skin beauty?"
At the mention of her area of interest, Rosenitte reacted on pure reflex.
Peony didn't miss her chance and pushed the cloth forward again.
At that gentle, soft touch, Rosenitte unwittingly offered her face without realizing it.
As Peony rinsed the cloth—now quickly turned green—in the basin, she explained,
"This green slime is said to be used as a material for the highest-grade potions. They say that if you put it on as a full-body pack and sleep, it's incredibly good for your skin."
Even if it was a material contaminated by miasma.
"Is that really true?"
"Touch your cheek. You'll feel how smooth and soft it's become, like a baby."
"My skin is always like that. I'm the White Rose of the Empire."
She answered curtly, but the feel was satisfying.
The skin that had roughened from the hardship of three days of carriage travel became even finer than when she was in the Imperial Palace.
Sensing Rosenitte's mood easing, Peony leaned in and whispered like a schemer,
"Please remember this. Our Highness treasures the beauty of Your Highness the Eighth Imperial Princess—the White Rose of the Empire—as if it were a national treasure."
"…Unni does? Really?"
"Of course."
And like that, Peony successfully coaxed Rosenitte.