The Regressed Princess - Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Paths Beyond You

Eleanor fell into deep thought.

When she really considered it, every victory in her previous life had been shaped by Andra’s contribution. Andra was like a “Trump Card” with maxed-out stats; no matter the situation, choosing her was a brainless win.

Andra possessed an unparalleled talent for combat and warfare.

Eleanor closed her eyes, vividly recalling the scenes of her past life where she had shared Earth’s military strategies with everyone. At the time, she only remembered the “Art of War” on a superficial level basically just a set of book titles. Most people had listened with relaxed smiles, humoring the little princess’s armchair theorizing. Even Manju, Thorn, and Hudora had only treated it as “lofty wisdom” from the ancients, paying only a modicum of attention.

Only Andra listened with absolute focus. She even simulated the descriptions from those stories to create her own battle formations, eventually recreating several classic tactical maneuvers in reality.

“Eleanor, you’re a genius!” After one particularly fierce battle, Andra had barely removed her armor before rushing over to scoop Eleanor up by the waist and spin her around. “That ‘surround on three sides and leave one open’ tactic was amazing! Those fools really did all run into the gap!”

Eleanor had looked into her glowing eyes and lowered her own gaze: A genius? The real genius is you, Andra. You learned the basics and went straight to the advanced placement exams.

Slap.

Sitting at the table, Eleanor slapped the back of her own hand. Phew… stop overthinking. The priority now is finding a way to live well while leaving Andra behind.

Her original plan was to simply “shelve” her. Shelve Andra, let Manju and Thorn build a decent rapport with her, and then use the chaos following Mother’s death to send Andra back to Hetuya. They would part ways and each live their own lives.

But if Andra returned to Hetuya in Year 8, how would she survive the later turning points? Especially Year 16 the death of the King of Hetuya.

Eleanor shuddered. Andra wouldn’t lose to Atilla. With her unmatched martial prowess and ambition, she would likely use Atilla to remove Aguno, and then conveniently remove Atilla to take the throne. Such a situation would be beneficial for Hetuya, but disastrous for Nolanna.

If other conditions remained unchanged, the Battle of Enlin would not only lack its strongest general but would instead face a powerful army led by Andra!

Eleanor took a deep breath and drew a heavy “X” over that line in her notebook. So, what must I do to avoid the worst-case scenario?

She pulled a sheet of papyrus from the side and hesitantly began drafting a plan.

Send Andra back to Hetuya as soon as possible, assign her a few agricultural experts, and provide high-quality seeds…

Eleanor crossed that line out immediately. No, Andra’s internal governance skills were worrisome. In the past life, it was Eleanor and various ministers who handled all matters large and small; only the military was held solely in the Sovereign’s hands. Furthermore, the planting conditions between the plains and the grasslands were vastly different. Even if Andra were willing to settle down and focus on production, Hetuya would still fall into famine once the Frost arrived.

As a highly responsible monarch who excelled at battle, Andra would inevitably point her sword toward the prosperous Nolanna. It had nothing to do with personal friendship.

Eleanor smiled self-mockingly: Even in the past life as a Queen who assisted in governance for years and a lover of decades—had I not still failed to prevent the fall of my nation?

Then…

Do not send Andra back before Year 8; let her remain in Nolanna as a general to fight Atilla?

Eleanor tapped her pen. That was what happened in her previous life, so it was feasible. However, doing it this way… it felt like she was missing something. What was it?

She propped her head up with her hands, her eyes drifting unconsciously around the room until she met Coral’s gaze.

“~” Her gentle sister-figure curled her lips into a smile and playfully made a completely un-ladylike face.

Eleanor couldn’t help but laugh and returned the face. The moment she pulled at her cheeks, she realized what was missing: Emotion and, most importantly Interest!

This life was different from the last. Setting aside their feelings, the current Eleanor could not provide enough “interest” or “benefit” for Andra. In the past life, the reason Andra pointed her sword at her own sister was because that action simultaneously satisfied her triple needs: protecting her lover, survival, and seizing the throne.

Eleanor had a sudden epiphany: In Year 16 of the past life, Andra and everyone around her were absolutely certain that she would marry Andra. They were allies in every sense of the word. Whether it was Andra, the Nolannans, Atilla, or the Hetuyans—everyone saw Andra as “the Hetuyan Heir who will marry the Nolannan Princess.”

Thus, her counterattack against Atilla was a “just and logical” act. Every victory added weight to the scales.

But this life was different. Eleanor would not develop that kind of relationship with Andra again. They would be “mere” Princess and Hostage. If so, Andra could not gain a claim to Nolanna through marriage. Her incentive to defend the city would be greatly reduced, and she might even be seen as a traitor by the Hetuyans.

Eleanor’s pen bloomed into a large ink stain on the papyrus.

In the past life, why did Andra never let me bear a child? Clearly, if a child were born, she could have easily gained the claim to the Kingdom of Nolanna. She could have even used their reputation to incite the nobles to overthrow the mediocre Ophelia… why did she insist on using direct violence to break Nolanna?

Was it revenge for childhood bullying and contempt? Or… could she not allow me to have that child? A child who might be incredibly powerful, holding claims to both Hetuya and Nolanna, and who would inevitably take away my love and support.

Click.

Eleanor dropped her pen, but a pair of hands reached out first to press against her forehead, gently rubbing.

“It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t hurt…” Coral’s fingers circled tenderly between her brow and temples, stopping only when Eleanor’s shoulders fully relaxed. The mature noble attendant picked up the pen, set it aside, and asked softly, “Lili, does your head hurt again?”

Eleanor sniffed and shook her head. “No, it hasn’t hurt all day.”

Coral looked suspicious and flicked her nose. “Really? Then what were you doing just now…?”

Eleanor pondered for a moment. She took Coral’s hand, stood up, and pushed the draft paper aside with her sleeve. “Sister, if you had a very difficult task you wanted someone to do, but you couldn’t offer enough of a reward, what would you do?”

Coral fell into thought. Nearby, an attendant quietly rolled up the parchment and put the papyrus on the shelf, waiting for the Princess to decide whether to burn or keep it.

After a moment, Coral looked up and said seriously, “You could earn enough money elsewhere to pay the reward, or you could find a way to persuade them. If necessary…” She made a pinching gesture: “Cheat!”

Cheat? Deceive Andra?!

Eleanor shivered. Andra’s ambition was extraordinary. Even at her lowest point, she carried herself as the Hetuyan Heir. What attracted her would inevitably be benefits equivalent to a nation.

In the past life, Andra had a high tolerance for jokes between friends. Aside from those who failed military orders and faced martial law, if someone made a mistake due to mediocrity or bad luck, Andra was usually generous enough to forgive them.

But Andra’s nature was by no means “lenient.” To say nothing of the second sister who died mysteriously, there was once a trusted captain of the guard who chose Atilla over Andra and offered up intelligence as a gesture of loyalty.

Eleanor still remembered Andra’s expression of pure rage.

“If she wants to die, let her die!” she had snarled through gritted teeth. “Have the interrogator come and ‘help’ her last for three days. As for her wife and daughters—”

“No, her wife is not guilty of death. And her daughters are only three and five; what could children know?” Eleanor had sighed, pressing the back of Andra’s hand, her body trembling slightly.

Andra’s fire had vanished instantly when facing her lover. Even if she had been in a murderous rage a second ago, wanting to skin that person alive, she would embrace Eleanor tenderly the next, whispering in her ear.

“Eleanor, don’t be afraid.” Her lover had cupped her face, candlelight burning fiercely in the depths of her eyes. “You will never betray me, just as I will never betray you.”

The memory of that night’s deep kiss exploded in her mind. Eleanor couldn’t help but touch her lips; her throat felt parched.

“I want some water…” As soon as she spoke, an attendant was quick to bring an exquisite silver bowl, pressing the rim to her lips.

Ugh, in this life, I have to bring the development of ceramics forward.

Eleanor asked Coral while drinking: “What if… what if I can’t earn the money and I’m not willing to lie?”

“Change people, then.”

“No one is stronger than her.”

“Huh? Hahaha.” Coral laughed, using a rabbit-fur napkin to wipe the corner of the little princess’s mouth. “Oh, my little princess, then just call a few more people!”

That’s it. Eleanor’s eyes lit up. A real battlefield doesn’t limit the number of participants. She even had the memories of her past life—

Haha… ha?

Her smile faded. Not because the memories were too blurred she remembered many famous generals. But there was a small problem…

They were all Hetuyans. They were either Andra’s subordinates or Atilla’s subordinates. Several of them wouldn’t even be born for another decade. How was she supposed to recruit them?!

“Lili, Lili? Oh, my little princess, you have to tell me if your head hurts!” Coral cried out, rushing to embrace her.

Eleanor slid down, her eyes glassy. She looked out the window blankly and murmured to herself, “What else can I actually do…?”

The lover to whom she gave her entire youth in her past life had become her most powerful enemy in this one. Just thinking about it felt hopeless.

“Do what? Do you want to go to school with Her Highness Marcella?” Coral asked crossly while wiping sweat from Eleanor’s forehead.

Eleanor suddenly grabbed her hand and sat up straight. “Yes! Coral, I want to go to school!”

We’re all Nolannan royalty; why should I be the only one headache-ing over Andra? The four of us sisters let’s take it on together!

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