The Regressed Princess - Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Fog of War; Miscella Replied with Three Words.

Fighting personally is out of the question it will never happen in this lifetime.

Eleanor felt dejected for a moment, then scrambled up to write a letter to Miscella. The attendant left in a hurry with the message.

She slapped her thigh, still feeling uneasy.

“Coral, get the carriage! I’m going to the capital myself!”

“Yes.”

She had no more regression charges left. Even if it was just paranoia, she had to act immediately.

To prevent being intercepted by Andra midway, Eleanor traveled light and took an extremely hidden, circuitous route to reach the capital, wasting four to five days in the process.

The secret tunnels in the marketplace had already been sealed by Miscella. Eleanor walked through the main palace gates openly, as announcements of her arrival preceded her.

Grind…

The main palace doors opened for her. Attendants joyfully welcomed the Great Lord of the Border, leading her into Miscella’s private council chamber.

Eleanor walked into the chamber. While looking at the dust accumulating on the corner of the table, she asked an attendant, “How many days has it been since my sister was last here?”

The attendant smiled without answering, and Eleanor didn’t press further.

She remembered her sister mentioning this council chamber specifically in a letter. Miscella had said she disliked handling government affairs, so to force herself to be a good King, she purposefully separated her sleeping quarters from the council chamber, giving the ministers a dedicated place to talk business with her outside of formal court sessions.

Eleanor had been happy reading that letter at the time, but looking at it now, it was likely just another “three-minute passion” project.

Click-clack, jingle-jangle.

Someone bedecked in a mountain of metal trinkets came clinking toward her. Eleanor’s heart sank; she looked up to see it was indeed Miscella.

Her sister was wearing an exaggerated crown that wobbled with every step. She was covered in jewelry, looking like a walking jewelry rack—there were three swords hanging from her waist alone!

Eleanor felt her vision go dark.

How has she been living these past few years? Has she been possessed by some nouveau riche ghost?!

She desperately wanted to grab Miscella by the shoulders and give her a good shaking like they were children, then rip the junk off and toss it aside.

However, Eleanor simply stood up from her chair and gave a respectful bow.

“Your Majesty.”

She straightened up amidst Miscella’s cheerful expression and said solemnly: “I have urgent matters to discuss, which is why I rushed from my territory to the capital. I hope you will forgive me for not giving prior notice.”

“Oh please~ what’s there to ‘forgive’ between us sisters?”

Miscella sat down boldly on a stool, patting the armrest. “Sit, sit down! We’re going to play football this afternoon. That football tournament you started in your territory is so much fun!”

This person was still the same the moment you looked away, she forgot about serious business.

Eleanor suppressed the inexplicable spark of anger in her chest and took out a map, spreading it on the table.

“Oh, a new game?” Miscella leaned in for a look and immediately looked awkward. But since she was too embarrassed to say she wasn’t interested, she could only rub her nose and listen to her sister continue.

“Sister, Andra has attacked. She has successfully ascended the throne and is leading Hetuya’s elite forces to invade our country.”

To accommodate her sister’s simplistic thought process, Eleanor got straight to the point: “Please concentrate all your forces to strike the unit led by Andra together!”

“What-what? What did you say?” Miscella stared with both eyes, blinking innocently.

The King scratched her head over the map for a long time. It took two or three explanations before she barely understood.

“Oh, I see. You’re saying they sneaked in because they want to attack the capital?”

“Or perhaps other places, but it will certainly be an important city-state. Please, whatever you do, do not let your guard down.”

“Mm…” Miscella sat back in her seat and raised her hand to call an attendant. “Quickly, go call the generals for me! Let them see what needs to be done next.”

Eleanor breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her sister’s way of handling things was at least better than Eva’s; she was still willing to listen to others.

She took a careful look at the name above her sister’s head. The original purple had turned into a deep purple, interspersed with some golden threads the color was similar to Atilla’s back then.

This put Eleanor’s heart slightly at ease. It seemed Miscella had truly been working hard these years; she wasn’t the type to gamble everything away and then lie to cover it up.

Her relief lasted only a few minutes. When the high-ranking ministers and generals stepped into the meeting room, Eleanor couldn’t help but look up at the names above their heads.

She didn’t want to categorize people into tiers, but what was with all these Blue and Green ministers? Are you pulling from a friendship gacha pool or just trying to hit a ten-pull pity?!

The Blue and Green ministers gathered together. Eleanor took a light breath and very seriously broke everything down to explain it to them one more time.

“If we don’t seize the chance to expel or even kill Andra now, once the Hetuyans converge in a single city, their true target will be doomed!”

Eleanor provided an analysis and alarmingly circled several highly independent cities around the capital. “If I were Andra, I would definitely find a way to flip one or several of the city lords here. If even two people stand on my side, the capital is in peril!”

Clap, clap, clap. The Blue and Green ministers applauded politely.

“I get it!”

Miscella slapped her thigh and said excitedly: “I shall lead a grand expedition personally! I will use our strongest army to defeat Andra and turn all the Hetuyans into our slaves!”

Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap. The Blue and Green ministers applauded vigorously.

Eleanor frowned, instinctively wanting to remind her sister that her rhetoric was problematic. But looking at her sister’s wild smile and the crisis on the map, she forced herself to swallow those words.

Forget it. It was rare for Miscella to be so willing to proactively defend the country; she shouldn’t pour cold water on her at this critical juncture.

The King decided to lead the expedition personally. There were people who tried to stop her, but not many. After all, the King was no longer a child; she could make her own decisions. If anyone dared to object Miscella’s sword was just as sharp as any other’s.

Nolanna had enjoyed favorable weather in recent years, and grain production was quite high. Since her coronation, Miscella hadn’t encountered any peasant or slave uprisings, and even the nobles remained respectful for the sake of her mother-in-law and her sister.

She had waited so long for a good opportunity to test her skills. She hurried out to mobilize her troops, ready to fight the Hetuyans for three hundred rounds and earn the title of “The Expeller” just like her mother.

While Miscella was choosing her lieutenants, Eleanor served as a consultant on the side, desperately trying to replace all the elite soldiers with people whose names were Blue or higher. Miscella took some of her sister’s advice, but she chose even more of the playmates she usually hung out with.

“Oh, come on! We have such great chemistry when we play football~ and we often train our troops together! War relies heavily on chemistry!”

Eleanor tried her best not to argue with Miscella. After some discussion, they finalized the roster for the expedition.

Sigh—she let out a long breath once it was decided. She had never been this tired when she handled logistics for Andra in her previous life. The people Andra valued were either Purple or Blue. Aside from the occasional issue with grain supplies, she never had to worry about battlefield matters.

A sense of irritability spread through Eleanor’s heart.

If war were compared to cooking, Andra only needed you to buy the groceries and seasonings; she could then bring an eight-course meal and a soup to the table. Miscella, however, needed you to start by finding the recipe, buying the vegetables, washing them, cutting them… and only once the seasoned food was in the pan with the spatula did she give it two flips and claim she made it. And after the meal, she’d expect you to do the dishes.

Eleanor patted her chest, trying to catch her breath.

It’s fine. I’m not helping Miscella, I’m helping Nolanna!

She kept comforting herself in her heart, right up until the day before the expedition. Since Miscella was heading to the front lines, she naturally had to stay in the palace to stabilize the rear… right?

The moment Eleanor entered the study, she froze. The person sitting in the study wasn’t even Miscella’s Queen, let alone her daughter who was barely three years old. It was.

“Ophelia, what are you doing here?!”

The Second Sister looked up and said calmly: “The King is busy with her training. I am here specifically to share her burdens.”

Share her burdens? Share what burdens?!

Eleanor’s blood pressure skyrocketed. How can anyone be… so stupid as to hand over their own affairs to a rival who failed to seize the throne?!

She had never even heard of a similar story in the history books of either world. Miscella was creatively stupid.

Eleanor nearly lost her breath. She clutched her chest and said, “Leave those things. I’ll do them.”

“Fine.” Ophelia dropped the parchment scroll without a second thought, leaving the desk to Eleanor and making a “please” gesture as she left.

Over the next half month, Eleanor remained uneasy. Affairs in the palace and the city were nothing to her she had straightened out Andra’s vast territories and chaotic harem back then, so what was this child’s play?

The main issue was that there was no news from Miscella’s side. Miscella was very insecure; to show respect for her sister, Eleanor had purposefully not planted any informants. Now, she was completely in the dark.

What exactly is happening over there? Why hasn’t the fighting started?

Eleanor couldn’t figure it out. She had managed to see through Andra’s intentions ahead of time and had an excellent information network. The initial location she locked for Andra was almost certainly accurate—why was there zero reaction?

Had her sister encountered Andra? Was the intelligence wrong, or was there an accidental injury?

Eleanor continued to wait with a heart full of trepidation, until finally, a few days later, she received the first report of victory.

The good news was that it was a decent victory. Miscella’s forces had suffered minimal casualties, and the Hetuyans had been driven out of the city-state they were in.

The bad news was that Miscella hadn’t followed her advice to attack the most suspicious unit at all. Instead, as if by divine intervention, she had attacked a different unit nearby. Due to Miscella’s “stroke of genius,” the unit suspected to be led by Andra had briefly crossed paths with other units, and now they truly didn’t know where Andra was.

How is she this strong and still this cautious?

Eleanor grit her teeth in frustration. By contrast, her sister’s mindset was like she was on a vacation!

A week later, a second and third report of victory arrived from the front. The Blue and Green ministers even arranged for bards to sing of the King’s valor in the streets, boasting of how she had kicked the Hetuyans’ asses. In their songs, Miscella was like a warrior out of myth, cutting down Hetuyans one by one. She used her sword to skewer them like kebabs and danced by the campfires. The “barbaric” Hetuyans were powerless to resist; they would flee at the mere sight of the King’s chariot on the battlefield.

It sounded wonderful. The Hetuyans were fighting on enemy ground without many vital forces. If they kept winning like this, they could drive them all out.

But Eleanor still sensed something wrong from the massive amount of intelligence. She knew how desperate the Hetuyans could be when they fought. Not to mention the Iron Guard that protected her and the elites surrounding Andra in her past life even the followers Atilla brought in this life could continue fighting after losing nearly half their number.

How could they be so scared that they fled at the sight of Miscella’s chariot? Furthermore, the people at the post houses specifically said the bards weren’t lying; they had seen similar scenes…

A ruse. This must be some kind of trap!

She hurriedly pulled out paper to write to her sister on the battlefield.

Sister, pay attention. Tighten the encirclement on the battlefield; whatever you do, do not let too many of them escape.

Just put a high bounty on all Hetuyans.

If you encounter Andra on the battlefield, do not let her go!

She waited a long, long time for a reply. Miscella replied with three words.

Got it now.

You don’t know a damn thing!

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