Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

Chapter 120: My Lady, I’ve Fallen for You at First Sight

Huh?

Why am I even thinking this way?

For a brief moment, an unfamiliar scene flashed through Lynn’s mind:

Inside a carriage, a mask torn away amidst a frenzy of thorns, and a woman’s face—equal parts rage and shame.

The image vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving Lynn shaking his head.

He glanced down at the soft, alluring figure in his arms and caught the faint scent of roses wafting to his nose. He suddenly realized his heartbeat had sped up.

At the same time, a strange mixture of frustration and sweetness welled up inside him.

Something’s wrong!

If the Witch exuded an icy, abstinent allure that tugged at the spirit, then the woman before him was an irresistible blend of physical temptation—her figure, her beauty, and her fiery presence all stirred him like nothing else.

To put it simply, Lynn felt his instincts kicking into overdrive.

I... want her?

No, that’s impossible!

Always brutally honest with himself, Lynn immediately recognized what was happening.

Though this was his first time meeting the infamous Third Princess Yveste, her face was so familiar it was almost disorienting.

Because it was the Witch’s face.

But the actions of the woman in his arms were entirely incomprehensible—something he could never imagine the cold, aloof Witch doing.

That icy, world-weary Witch would never fling herself into his arms like this, allowing herself to be carried like a princess.

This... this...

Though he knew the situation was different, Lynn couldn’t help but find it overwhelmingly stimulating.

A certain dark, illicit thought began to creep into his mind.

Just as he was battling his own impulses, he felt a sudden weight on his neck.

Two cool, snake-like hands slithered around and clasped him tightly.

In her fiery crimson eyes burned an intense fervor, as if she wanted to meld him into her very being.

“Disobedient little dog...” her voice trembled slightly. “Did you think you could run away from your master? Did you think you could leave me behind?”

She paused, her tone laced with both joy and madness. “Tell me... how should I punish you?”

Despite the threatening words, her trembling voice and feverish gaze betrayed the ecstasy of recovering something she thought lost forever.

Like a dream come true.

Her actions pulled them closer, so close that Lynn could feel her hot, sweet breath against his face and hear her racing heartbeat.

Something’s wrong with her, too!

This woman was acting as if she’d been drugged.

And what was with all this talk of “bad dog” and “running away from your master”?

Why didn’t any of this make sense?!

As he felt her grip tighten and caught the subtle motion of her tongue brushing her lips, Lynn’s confusion melted under the weight of impulse.

At that moment, the rose he’d tucked into his pocket slipped free, landing in the cleft of her chest.

The woman froze, staring down at the red flower nestled against her pale skin.

Seizing the moment, Lynn’s gaze drifted to her flawless, porcelain face. The dark thought he had tried to suppress finally broke free.

“Although this is our first meeting...” he said, his tone low as he locked eyes with her fiery crimson gaze. “This flower is for you—it suits you perfectly.”

The woman’s breath hitched, her body radiating even more heat.

Lynn felt the hands around his neck tighten further, their pressure coiling like a python intent on squeezing the life out of him in the smoldering atmosphere.

Somewhere deep in his subconscious, a voice warned him not to say what was about to come next—that it would lead to utter chaos.

But with this beauty in his arms, Lynn couldn’t stop himself.

He had to say it.

“Also, my beautiful lady... I think I’ve fallen for you at first sight.”

Crap!

Did I really just say that?!

This was none other than the future cold and detached Witch! The lofty Third Princess of the Saint Roland Empire, Yveste Roland Alexini!

If this were the Pantheon, he would never dare utter such blatantly flirtatious words.

But here and now, her uncharacteristic passion and boldness drove him to say the words anyway, fulfilling a shadowy, secret desire he hadn’t realized he harbored.

And it felt incredible!

Inside the Pantheon.

The Witch of the End lay on the cold ground, her snow-white hair spreading out like silk across the floor.

She raised her delicate, pale fingers, letting the light cast shifting shadows on the walls.

Who knew how much time had passed since Lynn’s departure?

For some reason, the Witch found herself restless, unlike her usual composed and quiet self, always absorbed in her books. Her thoughts wandered, unbidden.

Then, suddenly, a memory surged into her mind.

It was as if time, frozen for tens of thousands of years, had begun to flow once more.

The instant she realized what had surfaced in her memory, her expression faltered, shifting unpredictably between emotions.

She clenched her silver teeth and sat up abruptly, her slender fingers interlacing tightly.

Her chest, wrapped in a black gauzy dress, heaved rapidly for reasons even she couldn’t explain.

After a while, she took a deep breath and slowly closed her eyes, resuming her usual icy demeanor.

Yet, deep within those cold eyes, an enigmatic flicker of emotion lingered.

And from her lips came a faint, almost imperceptible scoff.

“This time... you win.”

When Yveste saw the slightly wilted rose fall into her lap, her chaotic thoughts paused for a moment.

A flower?

This is... for me?

In that instant, Yveste recalled the three demands she had given Lynn during their hypnosis session.

The first demand: when she woke, the first person she saw had to be him.

That demand had been fulfilled long ago in the Soren Mountains.

The third demand: to make the world acknowledge Yveste’s majesty and demonstrate just how outstanding her subordinates were.

He had not only met this expectation but had done so to perfection.

Then there was the second demand: to make up for the rose bouquet he had failed to deliver before.

At the time, she had said it in jest, intending to punish him for not getting the flowers she wanted.

But even so, he had remembered.

Not only that, but he’d gone on to say something as shameless as “love at first sight,” nearly causing her to faint.

He was like a loyal little dog crouching at her feet, wagging his tail and begging for a pat.

Yveste’s breathing grew hotter, her thoughts spiraling.

She didn’t even notice the odd phrasing of Lynn’s words or question the logic of “first meeting.”

An inexplicable emotion bubbled up in her heart.

My little dog... you’re just too adorable!!!

A surge of possessiveness overwhelmed her, and she suddenly wanted to press Lynn firmly into her arms, to greedily kiss his forehead, and to soak up every inch of his scent.

But just as this thought took root, a wave of intense fatigue crashed over her.

Her vision darkened, and she felt as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her. Her head slumped against Lynn’s chest.

Damn it.

Why now, of all times?

She tried to bite her tongue to stay awake, but it was useless.

The tidal wave of exhaustion was unstoppable, and Yveste’s crimson eyes dimmed as she slowly closed them.

Her hands, once tightly wrapped around Lynn’s neck, slid weakly down his chest.

In the final moment before losing consciousness, she summoned the last of her strength to clutch his collar, as if terrified he might slip away again.

“Just hold me... don’t put me down...”

She murmured the command so faintly it was almost inaudible.

What just happened?

Lynn stood frozen, holding Yveste in his arms, unsure of what to do.

But remembering her final whispered command before she fainted, he tightened his hold, careful not to wake her.

Thanks to the enhancements of the Heart of the Scorching Flame Dragon, Lynn’s physical strength had significantly improved.

And since Yveste was light to begin with, holding her was effortless.

The question was, how long would this woman sleep?

As he gazed at her serene face, Lynn couldn’t help but marvel.

This was the same imposing Third Princess, a symbol of dignity and majesty. Yet now, she looked as peaceful and endearing as a small, quiet kitten resting in his arms.

This was a side of her distinct from both the imperial princess and the aloof Witch.

Damn it.

Why is this woman so surprisingly sweet?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, an actual cat-like figure darted toward him from the distance.

“YOU SCOUNDREL!!!”

Afia lunged at Lynn, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising on her tiptoes in an attempt to nuzzle against his chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Wahhh... I-I thought you were...”

Afia’s body, soft even in human form, pressed against him.

Lynn quickly let out a quiet “Shh” and gestured toward the white-haired woman in his arms with his eyes.

Afia blinked, then realized what he meant. She loosened her hold, lowering her gaze to look at the princess in Lynn’s embrace.

“Her Highness... hasn’t slept in over a month,” Afia explained softly, her voice tinged with pity. As she wiped her tears, she continued, “Maybe finally letting go of her obsession allowed her to relax, and all the fatigue she’d been suppressing came crashing down.”

I see.

Lynn’s eyes widened in understanding.

Curiosity sparked within him.

What kind of obsession could sustain her for over a month without sleep?

Afia seemed eager to snuggle closer to Lynn. Without warning, she transformed into her black cat form and, with a swift leap, perched on his shoulder.

Purring softly, she rubbed her head against Lynn’s cheek, occasionally letting out small “meow” sounds.

Meanwhile, Greya and Morris finally arrived, practically skidding to a halt.

Seeing Lynn safe and sound, with his familiar smile still intact, they both looked as if they wanted to roar in celebration and pop open a hundred bottles of champagne on the spot.

However, the sight of the sleeping princess immediately silenced them. Whatever they had been about to shout got stuck in their throats, leaving them looking utterly ridiculous.

Dude! How the hell are you still alive?!

Unable to speak loudly, Greya began wildly gesturing in sign language, his wide eyes practically screaming the question.

“This can wait until later,” Lynn replied softly, his gaze shifting past Greya and Morris.

Clearly, everyone was caught up in the joy of Lynn’s unexpected return, brimming with curiosity about his experiences over the past month.

But at the moment, there was still an unwelcome presence lingering in the room.

“I’m curious myself,” came a voice.

Second Prince Felit stepped forward, his calm yet probing tone cutting through the atmosphere as he approached Lynn.

“Not just about your survival, but also about everything you’ve accomplished today,” Felit continued, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

“Care to enlighten me, Lynn Bartleon?”