The Regressed Princess - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: A Different Alliance

Let me go back, quickly!

Eleanor’s throat felt a surge of thick sweetness. Blood congealed into a gelatinous mass at the back of her throat, blocking her windpipe and making it impossible to breathe.

Is there still time? Am I even still considered alive? Is the Goddess’s promise… real? And if it is, how does it take effect?

One question after another, one wave of dizziness after another. Eleanor clutched the gold pendant and prayed incessantly. The sharp edges of the metal petals pierced her palm, and droplets of blood trickled down her fingers.

Drip.

In her mind, she saw a single drop of blood fall into a river of crimson, and then—time—the great river representing time began to surge backward.

Tick, tock. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

The sound of water droplets and the incessant ticking of hour, minute, and second hands resonated in her ears. With just three rhythmic pulses, the stagnant air around her began to flow once more.

“Phew…” The obstruction in her throat vanished.

Eleanor slowly opened her eyes. The near-death experience evaporated instantly. There were no screaming servants around her, only a serene darkness… and herself.

 She slumped back onto the soft bed, thoughtfully touching the pendant on her chest.

The good news was that all six petals were still there, though the intricate pattern on the first petal had lost one stroke. It seemed that as long as she actively chose to regress before death, she wouldn’t waste an entire life. However, the sensation of suffocation and the agony of the final moments were incredibly real. Being poisoned was truly not a pleasant way to go.

Eleanor quietly dismissed the idea of using poison to “save-scum” her way back and began to review the previous problems.

Purely from her own perspective, she had already avoided the most dangerous “dead end” showing her ambition to her mother and aiming for the crown yet she had still been killed by an unknown party. That person hiding in the shadows was likely not her mother. Eleanor knew Eva well enough; that woman, drowned in wine, lust, and wealth, disdained assassination at least, she wouldn’t use such a despicable method against a ten-year-old daughter.

Furthermore, as King, Eva only needed to give a single look or hint, and crowds would fight for the chance to drag Eleanor out and deal with her.

So, could it be that Eva ordered someone, and that person chose to use poison? Possible, but unlikely. Eva was the type to simply shout, “Take her out and chop off her head!” rather than use such roundabout methods.

Eleanor set Eva aside for a moment and began to count the courtiers present in the room. The closest one was Finance Minister Kurdona. She was the younger sister of Eleanor and the Third Princess’s mother; her motive was weak. The powerful Prince Enon. Her mother’s half-sister; she lacked a strong presence in court, though Eva trusted her deeply. General Aya.

A complete fool who would later die at the hands of Atilla. Then there was Manhani, the scribe who was currently a royal tutor and favorite. She didn’t yet have the capital to pick a side; at most, she was someone else’s pawn.

She simulated the positions of the four in her mind, recalling their movements and expressions. Aside from Kurdona picking up a scroll to glance at it, the others looked as bored as people humoring a child until the moment she left.

However, it might not have been someone in that room who acted. The servants and guards around her mother were all suspects. Vultures do not dare offend a healthy, active lion, but when the lion is sickly, they trail far behind.

Thinking of her mother, who would pass away from illness in a few years, Eleanor’s fingers trembled. She had never thought about helping her mother change her fate of an early death. Should she try to change it in this life?

No. She quickly decided against it. Because her mother, Eva, was a far worse tyrant than the mediocre King Ophélia. Even in her past life, with Eleanor working tirelessly in Enlin to increase crop yields and production efficiency through modern means, Nolanna’s financial situation remained a sustainable disaster.

She had once blamed Ophélia, but the “Mediocre King,” whom others called a do-nothing spendthrift, had once sent a sealed box containing a long letter. The letter detailed the flow of “the small portion of funds that could be made public”: a list of advance projects that made one’s scalp tingle, and massive debts those that could be ignored, those that couldn’t, those already defaulted on, and those currently being defaulted.

Ophélia had specifically written this at the end: My dear sister, everyone says you are the incarnation of the Goddess of Wisdom. Then tell me—should I wring the necks of the nobles and make them spit out the fat in their bellies, or should I wring the commoners dry to balance the books?

Eleanor had been speechless after reading that letter. She never replied, but in the following years, she promoted more advanced spinning machines across the continent and spent massive manpower over several years improving the hydraulic facilities between the two nations.

It was better to let Eva die on schedule. If she lived any longer, the people of Nolanna wouldn’t be able to take it.

Eleanor clutched her pillow and left her bed, pacing slowly in the room as she mentally sorted through the suspects. With only this much information, it was impossible to pin down the culprit, but fortunately, she had the power to roll back and narrow the range. For example, her previous act of revealing “I want to drink the Blessed Water” to her mother tested the theory that “the moment I show signs of reaching for the succession, someone will move to eliminate me.”

Next, she could investigate the most suspicious Prince or the scribe who would be easiest to extract clues from. The only problem was the number of rollbacks was too few! Even if she made full use of the six opportunities per petal, she only had thirty-six chances in total. And each rollback could only go back six days at most. Unless she opened a new petal, some mistakes, once made, would be irreversible.

“Ugh…” What should I do?! Eleanor bumped her head against the window frame.

“Your Highness, are you unable to sleep?” Andra’s voice sounded through the window.

 Eleanor leaned gently against the frame, placing her hands where the voice originated. So I returned to this day.

“Yes, I’m having a bit of trouble sleeping.” She slowly closed her eyes. It seemed that as long as a life wasn’t exhausted, she could choose exactly how many days to go back based on her intent.

Andra pressed her body against the window, the corners of her lips turning up unconsciously. “Then, do you need me to come in and accompany you?”

The corners of Eleanor’s eyes grew prickly again. It was always this—this effortless, casual tone. How could I not need you, Andra? I wish so much that you could take my hand. If I didn’t have the memories of my past life, I wouldn’t be able to help but rely on you, no matter how many times I looped.

Eleanor’s heart ached slightly. Andra, I only just realized that the reason I wasn’t harmed by my family in my past life was entirely because I was “lying flat” enough. In her past life, she was an innocent Princess who was useless for anything except a political marriage. Everyone assumed she would go to Hetuya to marry Andra. If her bloodline merged into the enemy royalty, fine; if she was killed alongside Andra, it wouldn’t hinder Nolanna.

And later? As the Lord of Enlin, she was undoubtedly useful. But the Lord of Enlin had the invincible Andra and a loyal faction. It was those people who helped her intimidate rivals in the shadows and dealt with anyone who dared reach out a hand toward her.

When Eleanor regained her senses, her right hand was on the window again, opening it a crack.

“Does Her Highness wish for me to crawl in through there? You’ll have to try harder than that.” Andra’s light laughter was exceptionally clear in the night. Perhaps someone heard, perhaps not. All was silent around them.

Gulp. Eleanor gripped the windowsill and took a deep breath—

“No.”

No? Andra looked back in surprise. Why was the little Princess being so… “Your Highness?!” She couldn’t help but cry out. A graceful figure along with a nightgown took flight, rustling as it squeezed through the window and drifted down from the sky.

Eleanor’s foot missed its mark, and she slid from the windowsill!

“Eee-ah-wa…” She tumbled head-first. Fortunately, Andra was quick and caught her head just in time.

“Highness.” Andra’s warm palm pressed against her head, gently stroking through her long hair. This movement immediately triggered Eleanor’s instinct for attachment. She leaned quite naturally against Andra’s shoulder; this comfort seemed to cross decades of time, bringing infinite solace the moment they touched.

“Do you need my help?” Andra lowered her head. The girl in her arms had tears in her eyes, looking as if she had suffered some grievance. A secret protective urge and anger toward a “common enemy” rose in her heart.

“Mhm.” Eleanor nodded. She pushed Andra away quite openly; the movement was easier than she’d imagined. After all, the girl before her had no intention of restraining her, instead politely taking two steps back.

Eleanor tidied her hair. Though the corners of her eyes were red and swollen, her eyes were startlingly bright.

“I want to go to Enlin.” As if fearing Andra wouldn’t know where Enlin was, she stood on her tiptoes, snapped a twig, and sketched a simple map on the ground. The little Princess poked the circle representing Enlin in the bottom right corner and murmured, “This is my territory. I want to go, but everyone forbids it.”

Everyone? Naturally, the King of Nolanna. Andra understood what was happening the moment she heard it; it must be this pampered little Princess clamoring to go to her territory to play. Such an important task as managing territory could never be given to a child, especially a delicate Princess.

Andra smiled gently: “Highness, I’m afraid I can’t help you with—”

She suddenly stopped, silently embracing Eleanor. Because the little Princess had quietly reached out her arms and softly wrapped them around her waist.

“Andra.” The petite girl whispered into her ear, every word brushing the shell of her ear like a tiny feather. “Someone wants to kill me. Can you help me… find her together?”

Gulp. Andra heard the sound of her own swallowing.

“Alright, then…” She leaned against the little Princess’s head, her left hand affectionately helping to tidy a stray hair. “What is my reward?”

She was so cute. Would she give a toy? A childish kiss? Or a promise to marry her when she grew up? Andra’s heart pounded.

“I can…” A step away, the little Princess smiled faintly, looking at her without blinking those transparent eyes.

“Let you become the King of Hetuya.”

Eleanor looked up. She saw a light in Andra’s eyes that was identical to the one in her past life.

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