The Regressed Princess - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Atilla; She Held Up the Pendant on Her Chest and Squeezed Her Hand Tight…

The fiftieth birthday of Eva, King of Nolanna, was celebrated very discreetly.

She did not hold her favorite grand hunting assembly, nor did she appear in the bustling streets to celebrate with the people. She was too lazy to even organize a banquet, only making a brief appearance when representatives from various countries and city-states came to the hall for an audience.

For three consecutive days, the King refused most private requests for an audience, and those she rejected included Eleanor.

Perhaps “Eva” would not have refused to let Miscella enter the palace to pay her respects, but Eleanor had no intention of exposing Miscella’s whereabouts. Since there was no rule in this world stating that “Royal Daughters may not enter the capital without a summons,” she simply settled Miscella and a portion of her noble followers in a secret room known to no one, forbidding them from going out.

Miscella asked with a naive look, “Mother is dying soon, isn’t she? Why can’t I see her one last time?”

Eleanor told her a terrifying story about a “signal by dropping a cup” and axe-wielders hidden behind curtains, so she stopped asking.

“Sister, I’m going out to take care of some business first. Remember to wait for me to come back.”

Eleanor triggered a mechanism. Amidst the grinding sound, she turned to instruct: “If the bell rings, don’t wait for me. Just act with everyone else; they will follow the plan as agreed.”

“Oh, okay,” Miscella agreed stiffly, nervously clutching her weapon.

Eight years had passed, and this child was now in her twenties. Although Miscella’s personality remained prickly far from the children Eleanor had raised herself in her past life at least she had witnessed her younger sister’s methods over the years and wouldn’t talk incessantly in public.

Eleanor slipped out of the city through a secret passage and found the Goldenseal Chamber of Commerce post house on the midpoint between her private manor and the royal city. The staff led the lightly-equipped Princess to the back. The horses in the stables were already fed, their coats shining.

This was the hiding place for the first group of cavalry. The Princess mounted her horse, and the cavalry followed silently. As they rode into the forest, more figures emerged one by one, like small streams slowly merging into the sea.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Clatter.

The sun arrived gracefully with the dawn of the next day.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

Andra tied her long hair into a ponytail and waved briskly in the wind. The dangerous mission of annihilating the Hetuyan diplomatic mission had everyone’s nerves on edge, yet this person, who was about to kill her own blood sister with her own hands, appeared to be in excellent condition.

Andra was very well-behaved upon returning to the unit. But in the dead of night, when everyone was setting up camp, Eleanor heard a rustling sound outside her tent. A hand quietly lifted the flap and waved in the air. This should have been a startling image, but it made Eleanor smile secretly: it reminded her of her past life.

Back then, Andra also had no concept of boundaries or distance; if she wanted to, she would appear by her side at any moment. The Andra of the past life wouldn’t just wave; she would make the “V” sign Eleanor had taught her and immediately burrow into the quilts.

Eleanor’s smile faded: the attendants had actually failed to report her. Andra was so cautious; even though Eleanor had screened the team members repeatedly, the majority of the group participating in this assassination were likely Andra’s people. Heaven knows how she managed it.

While thinking, Eleanor reached out to press down on the finger Andra was extending toward her.

“Sit down.” The Princess’s expression was icy.

Andra sat cross-legged with a warm smile. They were squeezed together in the narrow, dim tent, appearing as if they were leaning on each other in the darkness.

“Your Highness,” Andra’s voice flowed like a clear stream in her ear, “You’ve brought so many people, why do you still need my help?”

Acting spoiled was useless; Eleanor wasn’t led astray and said calmly, “This is something you want to do. I’ve given you enough face by letting my people help you forge extra traces.”

“Oh” Andra nodded in understanding, “True. After all, the one we are killing is my sister. But I have a small question~”

She raised an eyebrow and asked in surprise, “Your Highness never makes mistakes, so of course I am not questioning you. But why are you so certain that my mother will also die soon?”

Aguño was quite different from Eva; she was as strong as a true wolf king. Every hunting season, she showed her face frantically before the chiefs of various tribes to prove her valor. Moreover, the Hetuyans still retained the habits of nomadic peoples; to unify those great chiefs, Aguño was constantly marrying new queens and fathering new children. Regardless of whether her primary wife changed, she would eventually have a legitimate daughter younger than Andra.

So, if Aguño lived longer, the primary enemies for Andra and Atilla would not be each other, but the long string of children to follow.

“Atilla cannot wait; she is Aguño’s eldest child. My people have sent some clues.”

No lamp was lit in the tent, but Andra could guess Eleanor’s movement as she leaned in close, perhaps even the look in her eyes as she looked up.

Beautiful.

In her eyes, Eleanor was like a quiet and elegant fox, lazily sweeping her tail while casually deciding the life and death of her enemies. She swallowed quietly and reached her hand toward the Highness’s swaying “tail.”

“So, according to you, I’ll have to kill my mother when I go back?”

Eleanor did not answer. Since she planned to kill Atilla ahead of schedule, the dirty work that followed would naturally have to be handled by Andra herself.

“Heh, I understand.” Andra smiled. She suddenly opened her arms and boldly pulled Eleanor into a waist-hug. “Come back with me, Eleanor.”

Her slightly raspy voice was like a poisoned blade, cutting into flesh bit by bit. “Your sister will seize the throne of Nolanna, and you… my little Princess, you will become the most noble Queen of Hetuya, the future Angie!”

Her arms were powerful, yet she did not tighten them further to hurt the girl in her embrace. Her body heat and passion burned fiercely in the gloom, her gaze almost licking Eleanor’s burning skin.

Andra could do it. She would definitely do it. Anyone held so tightly by her would believe it deep in their heart.

Yes, Andra could do it. Eleanor smelled that scent of sun-drenched, burning heat. Her temperature was so blazing that those who came close to the sun would have their very bones melted!

She pressed against Andra’s shoulders and pushed back, bit by bit. Eleanor’s strength was not great, yet she seemed to possess the power of a giant, pushing Andra away inch by inch.

The handsome youth showed a heartbreaking expression. Unfortunately, it was too dark here, and Eleanor could see nothing.

“Enough, Andra. Stop acting spoiled. We set out early tomorrow. Leave quickly after you kill your sister. Don’t force me to find a way to deal with you!”

Eleanor grabbed her arm to pull her out.

Andra gave a wry laugh: “You, deal with me?” She did not persist, only saying one thing to Eleanor as she was about to leave the tent: “Regarding you, my promise is always valid.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Eleanor perfunctorily pushed her out.

Swish— the curtain was pulled shut, and darkness reigned again. Eleanor sat by the bed and hugged her own shoulders.

What should I do next? She tried to use logic to stabilize her fluctuating emotions.

Miscella should succeed the throne. Not only was she the legitimate heir, but in this life, the sisters had courted many nobles in advance. Eva had a beautiful idea; she thought that by sending Miscella away, she would facilitate Ophelia’s path, thus preserving both daughters.

However, how much binding power can a lazy King have over the people below? Ophelia’s greatest advantage was actually her mediocrity and soft-heartedness. A portion of the nobles would feel she was easy to manipulate and thus choose her; that was likely the path Ophelia took in the past life.

But she and Miscella could bring the nobles more benefits—massive interests bound by blood and marriage. Their families were still active in politics, and the chamber of commerce she built was expanding everywhere. Everyone was counting on her to spread newer and better technology and ways to make money.

Furthermore, she and Miscella had respectively agreed to marriage requests from two prominent families. Manju’s face appeared in Eleanor’s mind. Manju was naturally willing; Eleanor was certain Manju had not fallen in love with anyone else over these years. Upon hearing the news of the marriage alliance, although Manju’s expression held shock, there was also a hint of secret joy.

“Your Highness, I am willing to offer you my total loyalty. You need not agree to the marriage; I am destined to stay by your side forever.” This girl with golden-red hair, so different from Andra, knelt by her side.

At that time, Eleanor tossed the letter aside and gently embraced Manju, whispering in her ear: “I know. You will be a loyal lover; you will never hurt me.”

“Who could bear to hurt you?” Manju embraced her back with emotion. The two trembled slightly in the study, their feelings a mix of many complex sentiments.

Eleanor breathed deeply in the darkness: In this life, she would be deeply bound to Manju and Manju’s family. Miscella will become King, and I will support her for a while. Then I will likely arrange everything and go to sea soon after… Andra… will only be a passing mist from my youth.

And so, she fell into a night of sleep.

They continued their journey early the next morning. Experienced hunters and scouts soon found the extinguished campfires and more traces; they were getting closer and closer to Atilla.

Eleanor decided to split the forces. Andra and Manju struck out in two directions, chasing diverging clues. She, meanwhile, took Thorns and a portion of the Princess Guard to protect the supplies and the spare horses.

Rustle, rustle…

As they passed through a stretch of forest, the surrounding bushes and fallen leaves were suddenly thrust aside! Eleanor’s eyes widened in slight surprise. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered an ambush, but those Hetuyans, known only for fighting on horseback, had actually abandoned their greatest advantage their life-like horses to lie in wait right here?!

“Capture her alive!” A cold voice cut through the air, binding the bloodthirsty subordinates like a rope. The Hetuyan Royal Guard and the Princess Guard were instantly embroiled in a chaotic brawl.

Clip-clop, clip-clop!

Thorns galloped up from the rear. She cut down one enemy after another, yet the Princess’s position was still too far forward! A pair of strong arms seized Eleanor before she could react, mounting the Princess’s horse in one smooth motion.

“Everyone, stop.” Eleanor spoke of her own accord. The Princess Guard immediately ceased their attack; even as two of them were cut down by the enemy, no one fought back.

“Oh?” Atilla looked at the little Princess held captive in her arms with a half-smile. Very sensible; this Princess was indeed as clever and decisive as the rumors said, and… even more beautiful than the rumors. She stroked the girl’s thick black hair, her smile deepening.

“Go!” Atilla pulled the reins and charged out with the Princess. Her subordinates immediately broke off combat, mounting the horses of the Princess Guard and galloping away.

Eleanor looked up at the top of Atilla’s head. The deep purple in her name was shot through with strands of golden light, much like in the past life. Heaven truly favored Hetuya.

“Little Princess of Nolanna, do you like looking at me that much?” Atilla teased, pinching her soft cheek.

The girl in her arms did not show the shyness or anger she had imagined, only asking calmly, “How long were you waiting there?”

“Oh, for a while now? I didn’t dare sleep well last night~” Atilla laughed flippantly. “There was no other way; this is your territory, and you know it better. If I kept running and running, you would have caught me eventually. So, what else could I do? I had to walk toward you.”

Watching her arms spread as she swayed, Eleanor finally couldn’t help but grit her teeth. As expected of sisters, this woman was just as annoying as Andra!

While Atilla scrutinized her, she scrutinized Atilla. Both sisters had golden-red hair, but Andra’s hair was more like flame and her eyes were closer to gold. Atilla’s eyes were more blood-red, and her hair was closer to gold. Their heights were likely similar, though Atilla felt more brawny, leaning toward a power-based build.

However, Eleanor knew well that anyone who thought Andra was purely a speed-type would first be tricked by her nimble movements, only to regret their assumption when their blade was blocked by her raw power.

“Hey, little Princess of Nolanna.” Atilla had been scrutinized the whole way and said with great self-satisfaction: “Since you like me so much~ why don’t you marry me and be my Queen? I heard you are very smart, can cure many illnesses, and make interesting crafts?”

“Hahaha.” Eleanor couldn’t help but laugh. You two sisters make almost the same promises, treating marriage as a reward—how self-confident are you? This visionless woman even gave me a demotion.

She didn’t rush to refute, only tilting her head to ask: “Is that so~ make me a Queen? But you are going to kill Aguño in a few years. Will I still be a Queen then?”

The air turned cold instantly. The Hetuyan cavalry, who had just been watching her and Atilla talk with amusement, all lowered their heads, their eyes darting about and cold sweat dripping down their noses.

“Who said that?! Nonsense!”

Slap! Atilla grit her teeth and gave Eleanor a harsh slap across the face. “Enough, shut up! I’ll offer you to my mother the moment I get back!”

Heh, that would be truly stupid. Eleanor ignored her swollen mouth, her eyes thoughtfully scanning the surrounding Hetuyans. Atilla’s reaction was guilty, and some of these cavalrymen looked as though they were in the know; they didn’t treat those words as a joke.

According to the history of the past life, Atilla would successfully assassinate Aguño eight years later. But it seemed that even now, she had already bribed many people… it would likely be very convenient for Andra to kill her and then reconnect with these people who intended to assassinate the King, right? Aguño’s death would most likely happen earlier; she just didn’t know by how much.

Clip-clop, clip-clop. The rapid sound of hoofbeats accompanied by dust approached quickly.

Coming so fast! Eleanor turned her head sharply. Leading them was Manju. Her golden-red hair was wet with water and stuck to her face as she screamed at the top of her lungs: “Let Her Highness go.”

With those words, what reason did Atilla have to hesitate? She held her blade across Eleanor’s throat, pressing it firmly. “Get back! Move aside, or I’ll kill her!”

A line of blood was pressed into Eleanor’s neck by the blade, but her thoughts drifted into the air. Sigh, the difference in ability between the sisters is still too great. If it were Andra, she wouldn’t need to take me hostage at all…

Whiz.

She heard a faint whistling sound, and droplets of blood splashed onto her face at the same time. Eleanor shoved the blade away with all her might. Turning back, she saw an arrow precisely pierce Atilla’s throat, leaving her with a look of disbelief. Atilla instinctively raised her hand holding the knife, wanting to cut down that invisible enemy.

However, another arrow followed immediately. With a thud, it pierced through the gap in her armor, stabbing out a large spray of blood. Eleanor saw a domineering golden-red through the shifting forms. Andra’s eyes burned with a scorching fire, a flame that burned everything and brightened instantly upon seeing Eleanor.

Eleanor smiled. She held up the pendant on her chest and squeezed her hand tight!

Support