The Regressed Princess - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Echoes of Memory

Andra’s voice was like a glass thread binding pearls, dragging out a trembling heartbeat…

So it turns out I was the key factor dragging Andra down?

Dinner time arrived. The servants deftly laid the plates on the table, but Eleanor sat in a daze, propping up her small head with her hands. She had been in this stupor ever since returning from the garden.

“Highness, please eat something~” Coral approached with a bowl.

The small sterling silver bowl contained a pool of thick, viscous sludge a “delicious” bean soup made by boiling several types of legumes and tubers together into a gelatinous mash. Coral scooped a spoonful and moved it closer. Usually, the little princess would open her mouth and swallow obediently, but today she frowned and turned her head away.

“Sigh, I’ll do it myself.” Eleanor realized she couldn’t dodge Coral forever, so she took the spoon and swallowed a mouthful of the “soup.”

Gag!

Her little face wrinkled instantly. Bean soup is… just… wonderful.

She had been agonizing over her past life, repenting for how she had held back Andra, Manju, and Thorn by hogging their time and preventing them from training properly before they were twenty. But one spoonful of this unidentified substance was enough to shock her soul back into her body.

“It’s so bitter!” The little princess looked ready to cry.

“Bitter?” Coral quickly took a sip herself, tasting it thoughtfully. A few seconds later, she tapped Eleanor’s head with a laugh. “Oh, Highness, don’t tease me. It’s clearly very sweet!”

Ugh, your standards for sweetness are too low.

Eleanor looked at the blue-purple mash in the bowl and quickly shifted her gaze to the rest of the table. A long-lost sense of “rustic simplicity” hit her hard. People with happy childhoods often view them through a filter, and Eleanor was no exception. When she had been bedridden and ill in her past life, she often thought of the romantic days spent rolling in the garden with her lover. Or the sweet memories of their early days in Enlin, where she personally cooked and fed Andra bite by bite.

No wonder all my memories of “feeding Andra” are from Enlin.

Eleanor slapped her forehead. It was because the Nolanna of her childhood didn’t even have sugar-making technology beyond raw honey!

Let’s look at what a princess’s dinner consisted of: a bowl of overcooked bean mash, several starchy lumps made of “taro-like” vegetables, and a few boiled or roasted greens. The most appetizing thing was the roasted carrots and if you couldn’t choke those down, the attendants would skillfully mash them into the roasted pork to mix it all together.

Incidentally, the pork came from mountain boars… it was “full-flavored” in a way that stung the nose. As for beef, it was nowhere to be seen; the Nolanna royalty usually only ate beef during major festivals, following the rule of “The Gods eat first, I eat later.”

Did the favored little princess have any food privileges? Yes, she did. Today, her privilege was reflected in two specific dishes.

One was the honey-glazed fruit in the center. Honey was a nutritional holy grail in Nolanna. Witch doctors believed honey essence could cure ninety-nine ailments; if it didn’t cure the hundredth, it was because your heart wasn’t sincere or your luck was bad. Thanks to this obsession, Nolanna already had a community of beekeepers. In her past life, Eleanor had recruited them to significantly boost honey and grain yields.

The other special dish was small birds roasted on wooden skewers. This looked simple but was actually difficult to procure. Poultry farming was nearly non-existent; birds were prone to illness and laid few eggs. People relied on hunting and raiding nests rather than farming. The skewers on Eleanor’s table included chicken, duck, quail, and rarer birds. Outside of hunting season, these birds came almost exclusively from the Royal Manor eating bird meat was a true luxury.

Sigh! Eleanor put down her spoon.

Setting Andra aside, even trying to recreate the cuisine of several decades in the future was going to be a monumental task. In her past life, she had criticized Andra’s years of continuous conquest, as it directly impacted the lives of the people. However, from another perspective, unifying several small nations made the coordination of seeds, livestock, and personnel much easier.

Before she fell ill, Eleanor had been working on promoting poultry farms. Without vaccine technology, ordinary people couldn’t bear the risk of mass-farming, so the industry was a royal monopoly. Eleanor had set up strictly managed farms in the suburbs of various cities, iterating on breeds for meat and eggs. This allowed her to feed countless war orphans and drastically reduce the cost of protein for citizens, strengthening the national physique.

That’s it! Her eyes lit up as she looked at the bird skewers.

If I build the farms early, I can train a massive professional army! Ten people can’t beat Andra, but 100 or 1,000 might. And even if I still can’t beat the Hetuyan army… Eleanor’s eyes darted around. I can move my followers elsewhere!

She hadn’t been a Queen for decades for nothing; she had met many overseas people as a part-time diplomat. Both she and Andra had been curious about the other continent. It was hot, filled with more wildlife and rushing “great rivers,” but sparsely populated—it sounded a bit like South America. Considering this, she could build ships early. When the world turned to chaos, she could lead her followers across the sea. A perfect “attack or retreat” strategy.

“I have an idea!” Eleanor cheered, holding up a chicken skewer.

Coral laughed and patted her head. “Oh? And what is this great idea?”

“I’m going to build a farm specifically for birds,” Eleanor said seriously.

“A farm?” Coral repeated the unfamiliar word.

Eleanor took a big bite of meat. It tasted only of plain roasted meat. Mhm, I’ll have to get some spices from abroad later. She chewed and swallowed, then said with gravity, “I’m going to Enlin. Now—well, tomorrow!”

“Eh?” Coral’s eyes widened, and then she covered her mouth with her sleeve. “Haha, hahahaha!” She finally couldn’t hold it back, and the nearby attendants also lowered their heads to giggle. Coral half-squatted as if falling over, slapping her leg. “You really intend to go to your fief? My precious, noble, delicate little princess~!”

“Hahahaha!” The attendants lowered their sleeves and laughed, their eyes curving with joy.

Eleanor froze. Memories of her past life flooded back. Right… in her past life, she hadn’t wanted to go to any fief at all.

Princesses and King’s Heirs were different. While both were nominal lords of territories, the heirs had succession rights and were required to go to their fiefs on time. A princess, having no claim to the throne, could stay by her mother’s side indefinitely, delegating management to officials and simply waiting for the annual tribute to arrive.

In her past life, she had stayed in the capital until she was eighteen, visiting her alcoholic mother in the morning and spending the rest of her time in a sweet romance with Andra. That time had been so happy it was a blur; it was the early hardships in Enlin that had left a deep impression.

Seeing Eleanor dazed, Coral immediately reigned in her laughter and signaled the others to stop. She squatted beside Eleanor and asked softly, “Highness, are you worried about the future? Don’t be afraid. Once you marry, you can go to your fief with your Prince Consort; he will manage everything for you.”

Eleanor looked up and nodded in realization. So that’s how it was.

In the past life, everyone assumed Andra would be her Prince Consort. So while it looked like the Little Princess was managing the territory, Andra was the actual “anchor” in everyone’s hearts. It didn’t have to be Andra, but “she” had to exist.

So who should I choose?

Eleanor glanced to the side, scanning Manju and Thorn. They were waiting meticulously for the princess to finish her meal so they could eat the leftovers. Eleanor blinked at Manju. Other than Andra, only you seem suitable.

Manju in the past life… A pang of bitter tenderness rose in Eleanor’s heart. That loyal captain of the guard had never betrayed her in decades. She had protected Eleanor’s dignity at every moment. Whether she was the Princess of Nolanna or “Angie” of Hetuya, Manju always taught her subordinates that Eleanor was the only one they must protect.

Manju had managed a massive personal guard; she clearly had the organizational and command skills. Plus, she was the daughter of a high noble more than qualified to be a Consort.

“Highness Eleanor?” Manju felt unsettled by the gaze and couldn’t help but call out.

Eleanor stabbed a piece of apple with her fork, chewed, and swallowed. She took a light breath as if making a resolution. “Manju, from now on, just call me Eleanor.”

Clang.

“Uh, sorry Highness, I shouldn’t address you by your name.” Manju reflexively dropped her fork, her face full of unease. Thorn also lowered her head immediately, as if ready to accept punishment with her sister.

Coral leaned in, shaking her head. “Yes, Highness, we must maintain our respect for you at all times.”

The atmosphere became inexplicably heavy. Eleanor had to laugh it off, waving her hand. “Oh, I just thought calling me ‘Highness’ felt a bit distant.” She picked up her spoon and quietly finished the bitter bean mash.

After dinner, Eleanor immediately called for paper and pen. Sitting in her bedroom, she began to write stroke by stroke. The beeswax candle beside her was smokeless and didn’t sting her eyes, but beeswax was too expensive and production was low. As she planned the farm, she noticed the candle and added notes on optimizing tallow candles and oil lamps.

She wrote a long list of precautions. This was knowledge she could use immediately upon arriving at the fief. As for how to get there marriage was the answer. Manju is still young, but I could get engaged to her first. Everyone should accept that. It’s just… it might be hard on Manju.

Eleanor’s pen paused. Hard on Manju? So I assume she wouldn’t want to? If it were the Manju of decades later, she probably would be willing. She put down the pen and hugged her knees, thinking deeply. Does Manju like me? Surely she does. But in a romantic way…? In my past life, I was so focused on Andra I never noticed anyone else’s feelings. Manju never married, but she couldn’t assume it was because of her. Maybe she was mourning a sibling or just didn’t want to marry anyone.

“Phew~” Coral took the opportunity to blow out the candle. She rubbed the princess’s head. “Alright, Highness, time for sleep. If you keep writing, your eyes will hurt.” She patted Eleanor’s back, tucked her into bed, and pulled up the covers.

“…” Eleanor huddled under the blanket. Once she heard the distant curtain rustle, she quietly stepped onto the carpet in her shoes.

The room was pitch black; she couldn’t continue writing. She stood in the dark, thinking of dinner. Manju’s head-shaking, Thorn’s dodging, everyone’s uneasy faces… but it wasn’t like that in her past life.

Back then, she had said those words to Andra. “Andra, from now on, just call me Eleanor.” Not decades later, but right then. The little princess, having gained her Guardian Knight, was like a child with a favorite doll. She had jumped into Andra’s arms, shaking her sleeves and speaking those intimate words.

And how had Andra answered?

“Of course, Highness Eleanor,” the girl with golden-red hair had answered solemnly, watching the princess pout. At the very moment Eleanor was about to act spoiled, Andra had stepped forward, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Eleanor.”

Her name had rolled sweetly off Andra’s tongue. Andra’s voice was like a glass thread binding pearls, dragging out a trembling heartbeat.

“!” The little princess had covered her face in embarrassment, then stamped her feet and stood on tiptoe to whisper back in revenge: “Andra, Andra, Andra!”

“Hahaha.” Andra had laughed, her bright eyes filled with scattered light.

That day… no one mocked them. Everyone had just watched quietly.

Eleanor walked to the window along the hazy moonlight, resting a hand on the sill. Manju is clearly the one who has been by my side longer, the more trustworthy friend, but Andra just has a different kind of charm. Even as a hostage of an enemy nation, she had a way of making strangers believe: She deserves the best of everything; she can get whatever she wants.

Eleanor’s fingers trembled slightly. Yes, even after thinking it through, deep in my heart I still prefer Andra’s answer. Her natural reactions, and…

“Highness?” The window moved suddenly. A hand reached through the shadow from the other side and gripped the sill.

A familiar voice Andra’s voice whispered low in her ear.

“Can’t you sleep?”

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