The Regressed Princess - Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Bramble

After finishing pouring tea for the Princess, the attendants silently withdrew behind the curtain.

As Bramble lowered the curtain, she stole a glance through the gap: her sister stood behind Her Highness Eleanor. No matter how one looked at them, they were a match made in heaven.

A faint, unnamable emotion stirred in her heart, but it was quickly and skillfully suppressed, leaving no trace.

Bramble walked forward a few paces and turned her body beside another tent.

In this way, she and her two companions formed a triangular perimeter, ensuring they wouldn’t miss any figure passing by.

The three of them stood guard at various angles of the tent, as meticulous as they always were when standing watch for the Princess, and even more vigilant than they were in the palace gardens.

Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes… more time passed.

Her Highness repeatedly sent people to call Scarface’s subordinates inside for inspection, and even took in a rather brash young girl.

Bramble’s hearing was excellent; when she heard the Princess say she wanted Elsa to join the Princess’s Guard as well, the corner of her eye couldn’t help but twitch.

“What is it?” a companion mouthed from across the way.

“Nothing.” She pretended nothing had happened, shaking her head and shifting her stance.

We should not speculate on Her Highness’s intentions.

Bramble tried to empty her mind, letting her gaze roam automatically. Yet, countless threads of thought refused to let her go, pulling her memories back to a more distant past.

Back to when she was very small, and Her Highness was even tinier.

Her sister and the Princess had always been special.

“You are Manzhu’s shadow. You must sacrifice everything for Manzhu’s future. Do you understand?” Her mother’s figure was exceptionally tall, blotting out the sky and the earth in the dark room.

“Yes, I understand.”

Her tiny self had answered thus.

There was no “why” for such things; Bramble had known that from the start.

People always think children have poor memories and easily forget experiences from when they were only a few years old. But Bramble was different from others; she clearly remembered that day when she was five or six.

It was an ordinary morning when her mama died.

“Manzhu, promise me… you must protect Bramble.”

That day, her mama didn’t hug her first as she usually did. Instead, like someone hugging a master’s leg to beg for mercy, she clung tightly to little Manzhu, seeking a guarantee.

Manzhu nodded through tears, while Bramble just stood by the bed, dazed and helpless.

Wasn’t it supposed to be me protecting Manzhu? Sister is such a noble person; how could she be the one to protect me?

She and Manzhu were twins. Not auspicious twins, but “ominous” twins the right of interpretation was held firmly by their elders.

As the elder sister, Manzhu possessed beautiful golden-red hair and noble, light-colored eyes—almost purple.

As the younger sister, she had only ash-white hair and savage, blood-red eyes.

“This child deserves to die.”

It was said that on the day she was born, her mother’s mother had made that judgment by the bedside.

However, her low-status mama had held her tight, so tight, begging and pleading for the matriarch’s mercy.

“This child will be useful.”

“I will be useful.”

In the years that followed, her mama and she repeated those two sentences constantly.

She would be useful. Even if no amount of effort could make her match her sister, Bramble eventually earned a faint, fleeting smile from the matriarch one day.

“Not bad.” The matriarch had looked down and deigned to offer a single word of praise.

Unfortunately, her mama didn’t live to see that day. Thus, the joy Bramble should have felt was merely a hollow space, completely empty.

She and her sister became the personal guards of the Princess.

Bramble knew her mother’s ambition. She expected her sister to go a step further and become the Princess’s Prince Consort, so that the Princess would give birth to children carrying their family bloodline.

Sister should be very willing, right? After all, Her Highness is so wonderful.

Bramble tilted her face up, blinking hard in the sunlight.

The sun that day had been just as scorching, even more cruel than today.

Nolana’s Saint Sun Festival—the celebration of the God’s eldest daughter, “Sun” fell on the seventh day of the seventh month, precisely when Nolana’s sunlight was at its fiercest.

As the Princess’s personal guards, they naturally had to pray for Her Highness under the burning sun, wishing for her to gain a healthier body.

Sweat trickled down the bridge of her nose; Bramble was used to it.

Her dark skin was well-suited for standing in the sun. She only hoped her sister wouldn’t get too tanned; peeling skin was very painful and itchy.

Shasha.

A small hand reached out from behind the carriage curtain, patting Bramble on the shoulder.

“Your Highness, do you wish for tea?” she asked, turning back respectfully.

“Bramble.”

The frail girl’s eyes curved into crescents as she called her name softly: “Come, come up and rest for a while.”

“Your Highness…” Bramble was momentarily conflicted.

Sister had said she must obey every instruction from the Princess, but mother had also said that serving the Princess must never be done with negligence.

“Bramble, every action you take has only one purpose,” her mother’s face flashed in her mind, “To help your sister seize the only position by Her Highness’s side.”

She looked dazed at the hand the Princess held out.

If I take Her Highness’s hand now, am I helping sister, or not… uh.

The little princess actually took the initiative to grab her arm, tugging her toward the carriage.

Her Highness’s strength was small, yet Bramble felt as if she were being pulled by a giant, stumbling to the carriage door and sitting down inside the curtain.

It was truly cool and shaded by the Princess’s side.

No, it wasn’t just coolness; it was a kind of warmth that was slightly different from the sun.

Bramble briefly forgot the instruction not to look directly at a noble. She couldn’t help but look up at the Princess sitting beside her.

Her Highness was special. This “specialness” was originally no different from a divine statue.

Princesses, Kings, the Great Anya from the legends, Gods… they were all embedded in rigid places, set on high for people to revere.

But now, the special Princess was sitting beside her so simply.

Looking closely, she was a very, very lovely girl. She hadn’t yet lost her aura of innocence, and her face, which should have been round, appeared less full due to her frailty.

And yet, for such a Princess, I.

Bramble held her breath, looking at the Princess’s slightly turned cheek and those bright indescribably beautiful eyes.

Are those mama’s eyes?

No, and yes.

Her mama never had such a confident gaze, as if none of the world’s difficulties were truly difficulties. But from the first moment she saw these eyes, Bramble thought of mama.

Gentle, focused, slightly pitying, and… filled with love that required no reason.

“!” Bramble’s hand trembled; she felt burned by the word “love.”

How could she be worthy of speaking of love? Love belonged to Manzhu, only to her flawless sister.

Yes, only sister should become the Princess’s Prince Consort. They were such a perfect match.

“Bramble.” The little Princess reached out and gently stroked her forehead hair, smiling: “You are still children; don’t work so hard. In the future, when others aren’t looking, relax a little.”

“I am not working hard.”

“Hahaha.”

The Princess, who was even younger than her, covered her mouth, her whole body trembling.

Even though her head hurt so much she could barely sit straight, her gaze remained as gentle as water. “You had such a bitter look on your face just now, as if you were saying please help me. So, if you have any worries, tell me about them?”

“I have none, Your Highness.”

Bramble withdrew her gaze from the scorching sunlight and looked back at the grand tent before her.

She truly had no worries, because from that day on, she had become certain of one thing.

Mother and sister were right after all. Her Highness is beautiful and special. I should do my utmost to ensure the Princess and sister are united; that is the right path.

Bramble lowered her head and continued to listen to the sounds inside the tent. While she had been spacing out, she had followed everyone to a new location.

The Princess finished watching the performances and chose three more people to serve as attendants at the estate.

Bramble didn’t understand the logic behind the Princess’s choices. After all, the conversations between those three and the Princess weren’t fluent or perfect; the tone of one was even quite crude.

But Her Highness must be right. For example…

Bramble’s fingers brushed across the hilt of her sword as if by accident. Before they had separated, the Princess had specifically instructed her that assassins might be drawn to her.

She felt excited, and experienced a thrill of being recognized by Her Highness.

The old Princess always looked at her as if she were a child; that gaze made Bramble feel both attached and uneasy. But ever since the Princess stopped suffering from headaches a few days ago, her gaze had changed.

Her Highness was still very gentle, perhaps even more compassionate than before… but what made Bramble happiest was that the Princess finally trusted her wholeheartedly, believing she could definitely complete the task assigned to her.

Your Highness, I will never fail your expectations.

Kasha, crackle crackle crackle.

So noisy. Such clumsy movements are considered stealth?

Bramble could have waited for the opponent to sneak up behind her before drawing her sword for a single lethal strike. However, to ensure none of her companions were injured, she gripped the hilt early.

Clang!

A bright sword-light flashed by.

At the same moment Bramble drew her sword, the other youths drew theirs one after another.

They wasted no time on this natural coordination, leaping into the air like swallows.

Clang!

Clatter!

A series of metallic clashes rang out. The young guards dispersed with ease, acting like three hooks equipped with blades, flanking the more numerous slaves from different angles.

“Bramble, if possible… try not to cause too many casualties, okay?” The Princess’s parting order still rang in her ears.

Bramble’s sword shifted slightly. With a beautiful flick, she sent the red-eyed woman’s dagger flying. In the second the opponent was stunned, she delivered a rapid punch to the solar plexus.

“Ugh!” The red-eyed woman collapsed, pale. Her companions fared no better.

In just over a dozen exchanges, the guards stood poised with their weapons, using the tips of their swords to force the slaves to huddle together.

“Old and young alike? This is too strange.” Natalia pulled out the slaves’ waistbands to bind them. When she looked up, Bramble had already turned and dashed toward the tent.

“Hey, wait! Isn’t that—” The secret passage entrance?

Did these slaves intend to coordinate with the slave owners to assassinate the Princess? Was Bramble rushing back to provide backup?

Natalia stomped her foot, ignoring the slaves, and charged in with her companions, weapons raised.

Trot, pat-pat.

Eleanor walked through the cool secret passage.

She had Scarface leading the way and guards bringing up the rear the safest position. Except for specific corners and secret rooms, it would be difficult for anyone to harm the Princess situated in the middle of the group.

Eleanor looked around. In her previous life, she had walked through secret passages in various places, but this was her first time in the one in Nolana’s commercial district.

The construction quality here was not high; many spots gave the illusion that they might collapse.

“I’m a bit tired.” She stopped intentionally and let out a yawn.

“Your Highness, there is a convenient place to rest here.” Scarface eagerly moved to open a secret door for her.

Eleanor raised her hand in a “halt” gesture, then smiled slightly and flicked her fingers, silently mouthing.

Watch out behind the door.

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