The Regressed Princess - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: A Glimpse of the Monster; Eleanor Hugs Herself Tight in the Carriage…

Cold. A bone-deep coldness enveloped Eleanor.

For a fleeting moment, she felt as if half her body had stepped into a flowing river of blood, only to be lifted by a gust of wind in the next second, returning to the dry air.

Clack-clack, clack-clack.

The wheels bumped up and down on the slope. Eleanor opened her eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh of relief.

Phew… I’m back again.

She gripped her golden pendant, gently stroking the first petal: only three bloodstains remained on it.

In this life, she had been back for less than half a month and had already used up half her chances, and every single time resulted in a dead end.

So my situation is actually this perilous? Why didn’t I realize it in my past life?

She leaned back against the seat with a bitter smile.

Despite being reborn, it felt as if she had switched to a tragic script. If we’re talking about being immersed in emotions—in her past life, she was the one deeply engaged in the game of feelings, wasn’t she?

Eleanor took a deep breath and began to eliminate distractions in her mind.

First, eliminate Andra.

Although Andra was the biggest variable between her past and present lives, the issue between her and her mother involved life and death; it likely had little to do with this foreign princess.

Second, set aside her previous deduction.

The emotional changes between her and her mother might influence the development of events, but they weren’t the direct cause.

If the reason was “believing the daughter was replaced or possessed by a monster,” her mother wouldn’t have reacted that way, let alone executed the “monster” in front of another daughter. It was more likely she would be executed in secret and reported as a death by illness.

So, the real reason was obvious.

Eleanor covered her face, the gaze through her fingers exceptionally cold.

The struggle for the succession.

The names Ophelia and Miscella highlighted themselves in her heart, one on the left and one on the right.

In her past life, her mother bore her no ill will. Firstly, because they had deep feelings for each other, and secondly, because she spent all day being lovey-dovey with Andra, completely ignoring Miscella.

She hadn’t considered what kind of treatment her royal sister should enjoy in the capital at all; even when her sister eventually passed away, she attributed it solely to the war.

Even after living again, the first person she suspected of murder was Andra.

In this life, she and her mother hadn’t had time to build truly deep feelings, and her actions clearly signaled that she stood on Miscella’s side.

From her mother’s perspective, during the first regression, she believed Eleanor wanted to fight Ophelia for the throne.

Even if she declared she wouldn’t fight Miscella, it was useless because Miscella was not the Crown Princess in her mother’s heart.

And during the third regression, her actions had turned into accumulating strength for her sister Miscella.

The manor, the scholars, the slave soldiers… her mother must have thought she was weaving a wedding dress for her sister—and she wasn’t entirely wrong.

Eleanor let out a long breath; her thoughts were clear now.

This matter was actually easy to solve: as long as she completely gave up and stopped caring about Miscella, she would have no conflict with Eva.

No, Eleanor shook her head.

She had to find a solution. She wanted the manor, the scholars, and the soldiers because—

“My time is running out.”

Time.

Eleanor shuddered, immediately dismissing the bizarre thought of “Can Mother also reset time?”

If Eva had the ability to reset, it would be impossible for her to remain consistently idle.

A King can achieve far more in the early stages than a little princess; she wouldn’t have shown that expression of helplessness and disappointment after being completely idle.

So what exactly did Eva mean by that sentence?

Was she trying to express that, like Eleanor, she could see the massive crisis Nolanna was about to face?

Likely yes, but that wasn’t all of it.

Eleanor unconsciously tapped the armrest.

If her mother could truly see that far, she should know that Ophelia lacked the ability. Never mind dealing with Andra; even if she fought Aguño or Atilla one-on-one, they would flatten her and leave her in ruins.

Why would her mother choose Ophelia? Anyone with eyes could see that this person was mediocre.

No time… I also… I also what?

Eleanor’s tapping stopped.

The sentence her mother spoke might be literal. She knew she only had a few years left to live; she knew her date of death exactly.

In the past life, what was the reason for her mother’s passing?

Illness.

A terminally ill patient can indeed predict their death date, and predicting it a few months in advance isn’t far-fetched, but in this life, her mother clearly appeared quite healthy.

If [I have no time] referred to her death being only a few years away…

Then that “I also” could be “In a few years I’ll come down to join you,” or it could be “I am in a similar situation as you,” such as… being poisoned.

Thinking of this, Eleanor broke into a cold sweat. It was as if she had brushed aside the mist of her past life and caught a glimpse of a giant monster’s sharp claw through the gap.

“I will take you out of here, Your Highness.”

Andra’s phantom appeared again. The green youth reached out her hand, then turned into a tall Emperor.

Heh, thinking of you again, Andra.

Eleanor’s racing heart gradually steadied.

Even though she didn’t reach out to hold the phantom’s hand, her fear of the unknown monster dissipated significantly.

It seemed the entire logical chain had been cleared up.

However, one key point still puzzled her: why would her mother choose Ophelia?

If physical reasons eliminated herself and the Eldest Sister, Miscella’s mind and body were both far superior to Ophelia’s, weren’t they?

Eleanor felt a bit of self-doubt.

Her belief that Miscella was better than Ophelia might be purely based on her subjective impression. After all, she had just witnessed her sister’s “zero-mark” performance in front of Eva.

Her mother did not have the ability to predict the future.

So, in Eva’s eyes, Ophelia was likely a somewhat silent, average student who liked to agree with others, but was respectful to teachers and sisters a very gentle person.

Conversely, Miscella was a jumping, lazy, playful, unstable little thing who caused trouble everywhere. Even Eleanor didn’t dare guarantee that Miscella would become a good King after ascending the throne.

No, these pieces of information still didn’t lead to the truth.

If it were her, or another King who knew their days were numbered, they would hesitate when faced with two successors who both had many flaws.

Even if she favored one in her heart, she wouldn’t go as far as killing her own biological daughter who hadn’t even rebelled yet for her sake.

The sentence her mother said to Miscella before the third regression. “Didn’t you want an army? I will give it to you tomorrow” sounded very much like: “Because of your sister’s death, I will give you a chance to compete on the same stage as Ophelia.”

The fact that Eva could say that showed that in her original heart, Ophelia’s weight was far greater than Miscella’s.

Why?

Eleanor was astonished.

From a rational perspective, mediocrity and being easily influenced were not characteristics of a good King.

Especially with a military powerhouse like Hetuya sharpening its blades right next to Nolanna, choosing an incompetent and weak monarch was as good as asking to die faster.

Eleanor’s heart rate accelerated again. She felt she was once again standing before the mist, proactively reaching out toward the monster hidden behind the scenes.

“Andra, didn’t you say last time that the timing wasn’t good enough?”

Memories of the past came flooding back.

Eleanor saw herself sitting sideways on a long couch, leaning against Andra’s shoulder.

The monarch, who was either serious or bold in front of others, was now skillfully peeling fruit with a knife.

As she peeled, she smiled tenderly and said, “Yes, we just discussed it with Hudora and the others. If we can turn the people from the defeated lands into slaves and hand them over to our citizens, the internal situation will surely improve quickly.”

“There’s no need to worry about management either. Grant the remote and untamed lands to the soldiers who achieved great military feats; they will proactively help control and consume the most rebellious slaves, doing all the dirty work for us.”

The apple peel fell into a silver tray in a single long coil.

“On the contrary, your idea of everyone being equal simply doesn’t fit this era; it would easily trigger a backlash from the nobles. Oh, by the way, what was the name of that ringleader? I killed three whole waves of their people, and it took a full-family execution to barely suppress their arrogance. Tsk tsk, great families~”

Chunks of apple fell one by one. Andra carved them into cute little rabbits.

“There are also death-seeking beasts in the distance spreading rumors about you. Saying your abolition of slavery is because you want everyone in the world to be your slave. That reducing taxes is to evade responsibility and that you’ll make it up somewhere else. They even privately modified and distorted your decrees, saying you are a brilliantly clever, great villain~”

“Ugh, then why did you still help me pass them!”

Eleanor’s eyes reddened. She saw her lover set the knife aside and use her fingers to bring an apple slice to her lips.

“Mm? No reason.”

Andra smiled slightly. “Because I love you.”

Eleanor hugged her body tightly in the carriage.

Love… if it was because of love, then that was the reason that required the least explanation of all.

But did Eva love Ophelia? She certainly couldn’t see it.

It’s true that some literary works depict monarchs deliberately setting up a target for others to attack for the sake of their true love, allowing the true love to remain hidden.

Some monarchs also deliberately set up a decent competitor for their successor to serve as a whetstone for the child’s growth.

But no matter how she thought about it, Eleanor couldn’t imagine Eva having even a shred of affection for Ophelia.

The issue between mother and daughter wasn’t even a matter of cold stares or verbal suppression.

If ignoring someone was an expression of love, then they were certainly true love.

Could it be a case of transferred affection?

Eleanor couldn’t help but shake her head.

When she first arrived in her past life, she was a bit worried she had transmigrated into a yuri palace drama novel, so she specifically looked into the mothers of Ophelia and herself.

Both Queens were of noble birth with their own families.

The mother of herself and Miscella was suspected to have died from postpartum illness; the family was still active in officialdom, neither favored nor neglected.

Meanwhile, Ophelia’s mother died while under house arrest. There were even rumors in the court that she had committed scandals with others, and Eva had wiped out her entire family out of hatred.

The first half of the rumor couldn’t be confirmed, but the other side of Ophelia’s family indeed only had a few stragglers left.

Furthermore, Eva had directly strangled the core and the tail of that entire family, leaving only a few leading officials barely propping things up—it was entirely different from the way a rebellion would be handled.

In her past life, after hearing these rumors, she had gossiped with Andra, and the two of them had chatted for a long time lying in bed.

Eleanor hadn’t worried about Miscella’s position as Crown Princess, but Andra had brooded over it, saying in a muffled voice: “If anyone dares to covet your position, I will surely fight them to the death! A battle until the end!”

How sweet she had laughed then was how…

Clatter, clatter-clatter.

The rapid sound of hoofbeats approached quickly—it clearly wasn’t Andra.

Sigh, it was Miscella.

Eleanor waited with a complex expression as the carriage slowed down.

Before her regression, she had been happily pulling her sister along, breaking things down into the simplest terms to explain the importance of an army.

If Andra hadn’t been standing there, she would have pointed toward Hetuya and said, “Look, they all have wild ambitions! If you don’t train your army well, in a few years your head will be hanging on a wall!”

In the end, Miscella had pouted and said “Fine, fine, I’ll endure it,” only to have a total emotional explosion in front of Eva right after a complete “pig teammate”!

“Lily”

As soon as the carriage stopped, the Royal Sister happily lifted the curtain and shouted, “You’re back! Let’s go play together!”

“I don’t want trash slaves!”

“I… I don’t want an army anymore…”

Miscella’s two completely different faces flickered across her mind, finally freezing under her brilliant smile.

Eleanor let out a helpless sigh: My young sister, what on earth am I to do with you?

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