The Regressed Princess - Chapter 46

Chapter 46: A Once-in-a-Lifetime Encounter; She Kept Gripping Her Six-petaled…

Time flew by, and the state of the war became increasingly bizarre.

A portion of Andra’s troops had merged. The people at the post houses didn’t dare get too close due to the enemy scouts, and the intelligence being sent back was somewhat distorted. According to the battle reports, the soldiers around Andra were growing in number. She no longer hid her presence and began to appear proactively on the battlefield.

This is definitely a trap; she’s dying for you to take the initiative to attack her.

Not only Eleanor thought this, but the “dog-headed” strategists and the Blue and Green ministers around Miscella thought so too. Following the logic of ordinary people, they didn’t let the King clash head-on with the opposite side; instead, they sent a small detachment of noble private soldiers to tentatively attack Andra’s flank.

One “test” was all it took to end the testing. Everyone vanished like a clay ox entering the sea. Had there been a few survivors, it might not have been so terrifying, but the feedback of “zero survivors” was like a basin of cold water that instantly extinguished Miscella’s enthusiasm for her personal expedition.

Thus, a few days later, the King returned to the capital with her elite troops as if taking a stroll.

“Sister, how could you return at a juncture like this!”

Eleanor didn’t show her anger at the victory banquet. But once Miscella arrived in the meeting room and the doors were shut, she couldn’t help but curse in front of the close officials.

“Andra has almost finished merging her troops over there. She’s eating our food, drinking our water, and plundering local grain ha! The city lords pleaded with you for help, and you… you just came back like this?!”

In her past life, Andra basically never lacked supplies during a war. Eleanor was quite generous to the soldiers; on one hand, she issued abundant salaries and provided food, clothing, and shelter; on the other, she opened literacy classes, matchmaking events, and nurseries for their children. The more Andra won, the better the domestic situation became and the more the infrastructure was perfected. These three points formed a triangular positive cycle.

The Andra of this life was clearly not having it so easy. She led a hungry force with absolutely no moral restraints. While they were undercover, they could use caravans as a mask to obtain supplies, especially food and fresh water. But once the war began, they didn’t want to act anymore and couldn’t keep it up. Thus, this force, like the troops of all invaders, began to run rampant across another country. Robbery was merely the most insignificant of their crimes.

Eleanor scolded through gritted teeth in the meeting room. She lifted a heavy parchment scroll high and slammed it heavily onto the table!

She was not only angry at Andra’s lack of military discipline but also at Miscella’s retreat from the field. How could a King abandon citizens who were being persecuted and shrink back with an army?!

“You might as well rip that thing off your neck and throw it away along with your crown!”

Being scolded so sharply by her younger sister, Miscella’s face turned pitch black. She waved her arms and roared back: “It’s not that I’m afraid to fight Andra! This is a tactical retreat do you understand ‘flanking tactics’? It’s a tactic, a tactic! She… she’s winning too much right now. I’m going to let her cool off for a while before going back to fight.”

Eleanor’s gaze turned completely to ice. Her sister would rather find such a perfunctory excuse than admit to cowardice. If she wasn’t scared, would she have run straight back to the capital? Were all the neighboring city-states dead to her?

Seeing her sister’s strange expression, Miscella’s embarrassment turned into rage. “What? Why don’t you do it then? What ability do you have? You don’t even know how to lead troops! If you go, you’ll die even more miserably!”

“I don’t know…” Eleanor took a deep breath, feeling the blood rushing to her head.

“King, I have a suggestion. An envoy has been sent from the Hetuya side.”

A weak voice sounded from the corner. Eleanor didn’t even need to turn around to know it was her royal sister, Ophelia. As for Miscella being so “filial” to this sister, she had nothing left to say.

Ophelia pulled a letter from her bosom. She coughed twice and opened it in front of everyone. It was a very luxurious letter. Not only did it use the best-selling paper from the Goldenseal Chamber of Commerce, but it was also carefully wrapped in an envelope inlaid with gold and silver. Once opened, even those standing a bit further away could smell a peculiar scent of ink.

Everyone gathered around her hand to observe the letter. The content was starkly different from its exterior; the wording was concise. It was written in both the official languages of Hetuya and Nolanna.

The virtuous fame of Your Country’s pearl, Princess Eleanor, has spread far and wide. Our King Andra is willing to offer the largest pasture on the border as a betrothal gift to marry Princess Eleanor as her primary wife.

Attached to the back of this simple and formal letter was a very long scroll of parchment. It was written with flowery language and overflowing enthusiasm about how lonely she was, how Eleanor was her true love, and so on… it was a love letter.

Andra also sincerely stated at the end of the love letter: The reason I brought so many people to Nolanna was because I didn’t want anyone to drive a wedge between us. Once I have married Eleanor, I will lead my people and quietly exit the national borders.

She didn’t say what would happen if she couldn’t marry the Princess, but everything was understood without being spoken.

Eleanor was the fastest reader. After finishing the letter, she exploded into a thunderous scream: “An excuse! It’s all an excuse for invasion! A person like Andra will always push for more. Even if I marry her, the two countries won’t have more than a few years of peace!”

“Then there’s nothing I can do.” Ophelia sighed faintly. “If you don’t want to marry, the King can only send people to hold the front line.”

Eleanor was choked into silence by her words. Yes, Andra was playing an open scheme this time. Don’t agree? Then see the truth of it on the battlefield. Agree? Then she might just walk away after getting what she wanted, but she only said she came to fetch a bride this time; she didn’t say she wouldn’t come to wage war next time.

She still remembered Andra’s fourth consort in her past life. That consort’s mother was the leader of a remote tribe. The leader had called herself a “Head of State,” but Andra had wiped out her “country” with a wave of her hand. The leader immediately offered her daughter to beg for peace.

The ambitious leader thought that after her daughter married Andra and became pregnant, Hetuya would treat her more generously. So, this leader, who had just been demoted to tribal chief by Andra, went back on her word again and announced the founding of her country as its King.

Upon hearing this, Andra had sneered. Even though she had married into the family just a few months prior and the new consort was heavily pregnant, she unhesitatingly mobilized her troops and swept through this “new country” again, even excitedly cutting off the tribal leader’s head to bring back so her consort could “see her mother one last time.”

Back then, Eleanor had firmly stopped Andra’s extremely cruel behavior and saved the poor consort. But now, a similar cruelty was likely to fall upon her—except there was no longer an “Eleanor” to stop the Andra of this life.

Miscella shook Eleanor’s shoulder impatiently. “I say, you’re not willing to marry and you want to stop me. What on earth do you want to do?”

Her floating thoughts were shattered by her sister. Eleanor sighed and looked at Miscella with a strange gaze, asking, “Then what do you think I should do?”

Looking at the exhaustion in her sister’s eyes, the angry words Miscella had intended to say were mysteriously swallowed back down. She sniffed, crossed her arms over her chest, and raised her voice, saying: “Hmph, fine. Just leave it to me. I’ll go meet her on the battlefield again!”

Eh? Sister has found her courage again?

Eleanor looked up, and a weak smile finally appeared. “Good.”

The King returned to the battlefield to make a stand, and the Nolannans recovered a bit of morale. Unfortunately, the victory reports they hoped for were slow to arrive. After merging with their leader, the Hetuyans were like a dragon that had been given its eyes; they no longer fled and could shatter any offensive head-on.

Eleanor set down the battle report and paced back and forth in her tent. Delay! At this time, the only way is to use stalling tactics. Currently, the city lords who had openly betrayed Nolanna were still a minority. Andra faced a situation of severe lack of provisions.

Plundering the citizens was inefficient; she couldn’t stay in Nolanna for long. Eleanor could see that it was inconvenient for Andra to plunder “collaborating” lords. Unless she could successively capture several major granaries, her wolfish army would have to go home to eat in a month or two at most.

“Uh…” The messenger who brought the report looked troubled upon hearing these words. She lowered her head and whispered, “But Your Highness… the King has already agreed with King Andra to hold a decisive battle on the Great Plains in three days…”

“What?!” Eleanor’s voice rose. “Does she want to die?!”

Where was the battlefield the Great Plains? Not far… thankfully not far! Eleanor didn’t care about bickering with anyone; she rushed straight to the stables, snatched the reins from a startled attendant, mounted a horse, and galloped away.

“Your Highness!” “Princess Eleanor.”

A string of horses immediately rushed out of the stables, forming a broken line across the vast earth. Faster, just a bit faster… Sister has no idea what kind of monster Andra is!

Eleanor rode day and night for a full day and night, finally reaching Miscella’s camp before the decisive battle began. She couldn’t wait for announcements and fell off her horse, stumbling toward the largest tent supported by her personal guards.

“Sister!” Eleanor burst into the tent impatiently and saw a familiar back. Miscella had grown much taller than when they were little. As long as one didn’t look at those childish eyes, she could be called imposing.

“Lily?” Miscella turned her head in surprise. She hurried to lead her sister inside, spinning around to show off the armor she was wearing. “Hehe, I just realized~ you sent this to me last time. How is it? I look handsome in it, right~” She even drew the fine steel sword Eleanor had given her with a clang and swung it around in the spacious tent.

“Yes, yes, yes, it’s very beautiful,” Eleanor nodded hurriedly. She chased after her sister and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t fall for Andra’s trick. Her combat power is too strong! The Hetuyans’ biggest weakness is fighting on enemy ground. You must protect the granaries everywhere and keep stalling with them. If necessary, you can even.”

“Enough!”

Miscella first opened her mouth in disbelief and listened for a few sentences, but as she listened, she threw off her sister’s hand. Her face flushed as she breathed heavily: “Haa—did you come all this way just to say this? Who was it that told me to deal with Andra! I—I’ve already agreed to a fair and square decisive battle with her. If I go back on my word, what will others think of me, and how will the historians record it?”

The history books won’t care. In the future, ancient history likely won’t even mention this bit of business. Eleanor thought to herself: If you win against Andra, the books would indeed add a few words of praise, saying it was a moment of careless underestimation by Andra in her early years.

Naturally, these words couldn’t be spoken. She rushed to hold Miscella’s hand, but was again forcefully shaken off by her sister.

“Alright, alright, I understand.” Miscella sneered and said, “It’s because Andra proposed to you, isn’t it? Hmph, thinking of her at a time like this. You spend all day bragging to me about how strong she is. First you tell me to fight her, and now you won’t let me fight her. You even say I can’t trust Ophelia… Tsk, heaven knows what you’re trying to gain.”

Me? Gain?

“I… I… I’m just afraid you’ll be beaten to death by her…” Eleanor let go, her legs trembling so much she could hardly support her body.

This blunt truth that escaped her lips made Miscella’s eyes turn blood red. Miscella raised her hand; she held it aimed at her sister’s fragile face for a long time without striking. Finally, she just clenched it into a fist and pointed a finger in the empty air.

“You we’ll see about that!” She pushed past Eleanor and strode out of the tent, shouting as she went: “The decisive battle will begin as scheduled. Just watch how I defeat your ‘terrifying’ Andra!”

“A person only has one lifetime.”

The young girl looked into the distance and looked at her, yet there was nothing in the girl’s clear gaze—no wisdom, no resilience, no hope. That wasn’t a golden dream; it was merely empty, thin ambition. My sister… she wants to be King just to “be King” nothing more.

Eleanor let go, her entire body turning cold. Despair.

A cold, sea-like despair flooded Eleanor’s heart, but she could do nothing. The person issuing orders here was Miscella, and it could only be Miscella. She was the King, while Eleanor was merely a Princess whose hand had been sought by an enemy King.

Eleanor lay in the tent and silently prayed for Miscella. Aside from evacuating the citizens running around the edge of the battlefield and arranging for doctors to treat the soldiers wounded in previous battles, she did nothing. What else could she do? Even if she did something, what use would it be?

Having thought it through, she consoled herself in reverse: Miscella had done well enough; at least she had made a dignified appointment for the decisive battle. Even if it were me facing such a strong enemy and stalling I might not necessarily win. It might even be more exhausting and wasteful. But I would have stalled. I would have persisted. I would.

No miracle happened.

When a haughty Hetuya envoy arrived at the main tent with news of victory, Eleanor even felt a sense of relief that the dust had settled. The Hetuya messenger opened the letter in front of everyone and loudly proclaimed Andra’s victory.

Besides informing them of the result, she was there to collect the stakes agreed upon by the two Kings before the battle: which included a massive amount of grain, daily necessities, money, and two of Nolanna’s city-states.

The envoy finished reading. Some cursed, some wept, but Eleanor was the calmest one among them. Among the two cities Andra demanded was Mihir City, and the other was an enclave close to the capital. It seemed she couldn’t swallow so much at once and intended to set up a springboard for next time. Based on her knowledge of Andra, the city-states between those two cities had likely already betrayed Nolanna. Once those two cities were ceded to Hetuya, these city-states would likely change colors simultaneously, giving the Nolannans a little “Hetuya shock.”

Eleanor sighed and asked aloud, “What about the captives? Are they all safe?”

The envoy paused for a moment and gave her a pleasant smile. “Rest assured, they are safe~ Those who survived are very safe. We aren’t keeping them for dinner; most of the soldiers will be released on the spot once Nolanna fulfills the wager. As for the nobles…”

She pulled another letter written on paper from her bosom, the edge of the envelope dangling a gold pendant in the shape of a six-petaled flower. Upon seeing this letter, an ambiguous “as expected” expression appeared on everyone’s faces.

“High-bloods are so precious; originally they should be redeemed with countless gold and gems.” The envoy recited emotionally, “But our King’s love for you far exceeds any jewelry. Your beauty and wisdom are the best dowry…”

“I understand,” Eleanor interrupted ruthlessly. “In short, Andra wants me to exchange myself for these captives, and only then will she send my sister back, right?”

The envoy stared with the letter, her gaze somewhat reproachful, as if saying: How can you speak of my King like that? But she soon gave a respectful bow again and explained softly.

“The King does not mean it that way. She is willing to use all the wagers including the two city-states as a betrothal gift to marry you into Hetuya. Those cities and the jewels will belong to you; she only wishes for you to come to Hetuya healthy and well. If you have a safe journey, these warriors who accidentally lost the battle can also return home safely.”

“I see.”

Eleanor smiled coldly. During the conversation, she kept gripping her six-petaled flower pendant. After her argument with Miscella and her despair, the first petal had become soft and transparent at her fingertips, as if it could be plucked with a gentle bend.

But she didn’t act. Because Miscella’s face kept appearing in her mind.

“How about you write my homework for me.” “Alright, alright, I won’t bully that bastard named Andra.” “Let’s go out and play. Eh, you have things to do tomorrow?” “I want to be a great King!”

Past life and current life mixed together. Even the image she had never seen her sister lying lonely on the battlefield gradually emerged.

“A person only has one lifetime.”

Her sister believed that as long as memories were different, they were different people, so for her, a person’s life only happened once. It was I who pushed the her of this life onto the throne and threw her into a place that didn’t suit her at all. The willful one wasn’t Miscella, but me. I… shouldn’t abandon her a second time.

Eleanor nodded to the envoy.

“I accept.”

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