Chapter 12: Self-cultivation of Salted Fish

Elder Mephist was exiled, and the entire clan was uprooted.

They became a feast for other nobles to devour.

All of this happened so fast that no one could react in time.

Sylvia lay on the absurdly large bed in her private chamber.

Her hollow blood-red eyes stared blankly at the intricate dark patterns on the ceiling.

She had come to understand.

Completely and thoroughly understood.

In this mad family, any form of rebellion, even the slightest sign of resistance, would be magnified without limit.

Then, that insane mother-daughter pair would each use their own way to push things to an irreparable point.

Avira’s love was destruction.

She would kill anyone who made you unhappy.

Ophelia’s love was control.

She would eliminate every threat that could upset you.

And she, Sylvia, just wanted to be a salted fish.

She didn’t want to cause trouble, nor be used as an excuse for it.

Escape?

Impossible.

The entire Eindor Continent was her prison.

Rebellion?

With what strength?

With this body that ran out of breath after two steps?

If that was the case, then only one path remained.

Sylvia slowly sat up, her eyes radiating a calm born of deep enlightenment.

She would lie flat.

Completely, utterly, and without reservation lie flat.

She devised a new survival strategy for herself—the “Serene Reflection Principles.”

One, don’t cause trouble proactively.

Two, don’t publicly express any personal opinions that might cause misunderstanding.

Three, don’t resist what her mother and sister arranged for her.

She would become a harmless, uninteresting, utterly invisible “Salted Fish Princess.”

A pretty but useless ornament.

Over time, people would forget her, right?

Yes, they surely would.

From that day on, Sylvia’s life entered a brand-new pattern.

Every morning, her maids dressed her in lavish yet soft palace gowns.

She no longer had any lessons.

Neither the history classes that gave her headaches

nor the etiquette lessons that made her want to die—they were all canceled by the queen.

She had plenty of free time.

Thus, her daily routine became extremely simple.

Chamber, study, garden.

A straight line between the three.

She would go to the study, but no longer forced to learn.

She would choose the most secluded corner, pick the thickest book, like Origin of Blood Clan Surnames, then open it and stand it on the table, hide her face behind it, and start dozing off.

She would also visit the Sky Garden in the royal city.

But she had no interest in the dazzling Enchanted Flora.

She just found a bench, sat down, and spaced out.

For an entire afternoon at a time.

Her behavior confused the maids in charge of her care.

The little princess seemed… utterly disinterested in everything.

***

That afternoon, the court held a rare small tea party.

The attendees were high-ranking noblewomen leaning toward the royal side.

Avira broke her usual routine by skipping the training grounds.

Instead, she forcibly dragged Sylvia along.

“Sylvia, sit next to me.”

Avira’s face wore an excited smile as she pressed her sister into the seat beside her.

Sylvia felt like a little white rabbit dragged into a pack of wolves.

The gazes of those noblewomen made her fidget uneasily.

She could only lower her head and try to shrink her presence.

Silently repeating the “Serene Reflection Principles.”

Trouble came swiftly.

A newly appointed Marchioness from the Bruch Clan, one of Avira’s fervent followers, carried a tray of delicate pastries and carefully approached Sylvia.

“Your Highness, little princess.”

Her voice trembled with excitement.

“These are ‘Frost Dawn Pastries,’ made from ‘Sunlight Wheat’ milled in the City of Dawn.”

“Baked with ‘Frost Honey’ unique to the Northern Icefield… would you… would you please try one?”

Sylvia looked up at the pastries.

She felt every eye in the room fixated on her.

She knew this was a trap.

If she said she liked them or didn’t, tomorrow the whole Nightfall City would be buzzing about the “little princess’s taste preferences.”

And countless people would come to pile these pastries in her chambers, just to curry favor.

What a hassle.

Sylvia took a deep breath, then, in a tone utterly devoid of emotion, gave her standard answer.

“They’re all good.”

The Marchioness was stunned.

The noblewomen around her were stunned.

“All good?”

What kind of answer was that?

Just as the atmosphere grew awkward,

the Bruch Clan Marchioness’s eyes suddenly lit up.

She clapped her hands loudly, a look of sudden realization on her face.

“I understand! I understand!”

She looked at Sylvia with eyes full of admiration.

“For someone like Your Highness, the taste of all things in this world—what difference does it make?”

“Good or bad taste is merely a mundane definition.”

“To you, they are all the same.”

“The three words ‘all good’ contain a detachment and transcendence that sees through everything!”

Sylvia: ???

No, sister, what are you imagining?

I’m just too lazy to pick!

Yet the Marchioness’s words opened the doors to a new world.

The other noblewomen showed expressions of “I see now.”

“As expected of the little princess, even her views on food have philosophical depth.”

“Yes, while we’re still debating sweet or salty, Her Highness has already seen the essence of things.”

“This supreme contempt for power and material is true nobility!”

Sylvia listened to their chatter, completely dumbfounded.

She looked at Avira helplessly, only to find her sister puffing her chest with pride, as if to say, “See? My sister’s just that amazing.”

Sylvia closed her eyes in despair.

This family was hopeless.

I just want to be a useless blob, why do they have to interpret me as some philosopher?

After the tea party, Sylvia’s “lying flat” philosophy spread quickly in Nightfall City’s young nobility in a way she never expected.

Especially among the newly minted nobles who idolized Avira, and admired strength and individuality.

They regarded Sylvia’s “desirelessness” as a brand-new, higher-level form of “cool.”

Thus, a strange “lying flat” trend emerged in the royal court.

Two young earls met in the hallway.

“Did you hear? The Saint Radiance Church is reinforcing the Weeping Blood Valley again.”

“This time the leader is the Sword of Judgment Knight Order Vice Commander.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t we have any countermeasures?”

“We’ll see.”

“… Your calm attitude toward the storm is very much in the little princess’s style!”

“Not bad.”

Once, Sylvia passed by the Parliament Chamber and happened to overhear the conversation inside.

She nearly stumbled to the ground.

I’m not! I didn’t! Don’t follow my example!

I’m truly lazy! You’re just pretending to be cool!

She felt her lying flat plan was sprinting wildly in a strange direction.

And even scarier things were still ahead.

Sylvia’s passive escapism naturally caught the attention of Queen Ophelia and Crown Princess Avira.

But their interpretation was completely different from the nobles’.

They unanimously believed—

Sylvia was unhappy.

Sylvia was lonely.

It must be the dull royal court life binding my little daughter/my sister’s nature.

So, a new round of “care” began.

***

That day, Sylvia was spacing out in the garden.

Avira rushed over, holding a cage covered with black cloth.

“Sylvia!”

She excitedly placed the cage in front of her.

“I found you something fun!”

Sylvia looked at the cage that trembled continuously, feeling a bad premonition.

Avira yanked off the black cloth.

Inside the cage was a… huge mushroom covered with mouths?

The moment the mushroom saw the light, all its mouths flew open, emitting a scream that pierced the eardrums.

“Yaa—!!!”

Sylvia was so frightened she bounced off the bench.

“See? Fun, right!”

Avira introduced proudly.

“This is the Silent Scream from the Abyss.”

“I caught it alive with great difficulty!”

“Whenever you’re bored, you can listen to its calls—very entertaining!”

Sylvia’s face went pale staring at the screaming mushroom.

Sis, please.

I just want some peace.

You call that entertaining? That’s a death sentence!

Avira’s “care” was not over, as the queen’s “comfort” soon followed.

That night, Ophelia personally came to Sylvia’s chamber.

She frowned seeing her daughter’s listless face.

“From tomorrow on, you are exempt from all court etiquette.”

“Within the Eternal Night Empire, you need not bow to anyone.”

She paused, then added,

“Including me.”

Sylvia froze, unable to react.

The “Queen Immunity Privilege”?

A glory never before granted in the entire empire’s history.

Yet she felt no joy.

She could sense in her mother’s cold eyes the question: “Why aren’t you happy yet?”

Sylvia’s lying flat plan was now completely broken.

The more she tried to minimize her presence, the more she was thrust into the spotlight.

The more harmless she appeared, the more her family thought she suffered great injustice, then doubled down on “compensating” her.

This was not lying flat at all.

This was being roasted on a spit.

***

Late at night, Sylvia lay in bed, gazing at the Silent Scream in the magic crystal cage Avira had created.

The thing continued its tireless silent scream (muffled).

She felt exhausted.

A weariness from the depths of her soul.

At that moment, the chamber door was gently knocked.

The Chamberlain’s respectful voice came from outside.

“Your Highness, little princess.”

“The queen has just issued a new royal decree.”

“To celebrate your recovery”

“And to thank you for bringing peace and harmony to the empire, a new festival has been established—‘Serene Reflection Day.’”

“Starting next month, on this day each month, the royal court will rest.”

“All subjects shall set aside work to quietly contemplate the meaning of life.”

Sylvia: “…”

She slowly, very slowly, pulled the covers over her head.

Will this world ever get better?

I just want to sleep!