The Regressed Princess - Chapter 50

Chapter 50: The Second Round of Flowers Bloom; The Little Princess’s Black Hair Like Seaweed…

Ding-ling… The sound of a bell rang out crisply.

Who is fiddling with the gauze curtains…

Eleanor slowly opened her eyes. There were many overlapping shadows before her, making her dizzy.

“Ugh.” The little princess frowned, and a teardrop fell from the corner of her eye.

She swung her hand with force, and her body swayed out along with her arm. Thud! She swiped right into a small, fluffy head with a dull thud.

“Ow, that hurts! Oh, Lily, you’re awake?” The small head turned around, revealing a fuzzy-haired Miscella.

The tiny elder sister pounced on her with a “Heigh-ho,” giggling and saying: “How is it? Do you feel better today? If you’re better, let’s go out and play!”

“Third Highness…” Coral pulled back the curtain and pinched Miscella’s little cheek, saying disapprovingly: “Don’t always drag the Princess out to catch the wind. What if she falls ill?”

“Ouch~ Running around more prevents sickness!” Miscella rolled around on the bed, acting spoiled.

Her limbs were intact, and her clean little face was full of a triumphant smile, without a single trace of blood.

Whew… Eleanor clutched her chest and breathed deeply. A distinct, dull ache pulsed within her chest. Even looking at this warm scene before her, she could still feel a lingering phantom pain.

Click.

She touched the golden pendant at her chest. It was the six-petaled flower bestowed by the Mother Goddess… No, now there were only five petals.

Eleanor picked up the pendant to examine it closely.

The pendant was originally a wide-spread, six-petaled flower, but now it had become five perhaps to preserve a neat and natural appearance, the shape of the petals had changed slightly. The tips of the petals had become sharper; at first glance, it looked very much like a borage flower.

Fortunately, each petal was still inscribed with six bloodstains. It seemed the total amount of regressions remained unchanged.

“Lily Lily! Are you listening? Hey, hey, hey.”

Miscella grabbed her sister’s hair right in front of Coral, only to have her paw swatted away by Coral with a smack.

Miscella wasn’t annoyed. She stared with bright eyes and said with a grin: “Hehe. Oh, right, that annoying little Hetuyan brat is kneeling outside. Stop being nice to her~ Come on, let’s go over and each give her a kick!”

Andra… Andra!

She remembered.

How wonderful, we can start all over again.

Eleanor let go of the pendant and broke into a joyful smile.

Miscella looked up, and seeing her sister’s eerie smile, she stalled.

That was fundamentally not an expression a child should have. There wasn’t a trace of innocence in it, nor did it look particularly happy… It was a sharper, more terrifying expression, one that she, at her current age, simply could not understand.

“Sister? Let’s go. I want to go see her.”

Eleanor stepped off the bed in her slippers. That terrifying smile vanished in the blink of an eye, and she seemed to turn back into that cute little younger sister.

So strange. Did my eyes deceive me?

Miscella scratched her head, tossing her doubt aside.

Hmph, she remembered that Hetuyan nuisance again. Yesterday, her sister had argued with her until her face was red just for that brat, and even went to beg Mother to have the person brought to her side. How unfair!

Miscella blinked and patted Eleanor’s shoulder. She wanted her sister to swear that the two of them were the best in the world, but in an instant, she couldn’t help but shiver: Her sister’s vibe… was not quite right.

“Hmm?”

Eleanor turned her face indifferently; she was cooperating with Coral to change her clothes.

She wasn’t smiling now, and her calm expression seemed normal enough.

But Miscella just felt her sister was different from usual. It wasn’t just that she didn’t have a headache or wasn’t weak… it was as if her posture everywhere was more mature, possessing the air of an elder sister.

Is maturity bad?

A child, of course, thinks maturity is great. Eleanor was still Eleanor, but she was filled with a very eerie sense of discordance.

Miscella shrank back a bit, not quite daring to mess with her sister today. She stood obediently to the side and waited for Eleanor to finish changing before following her sister out the door.

The wind blew through the golden-red long hair. The small youth stood with a straight, upright posture.

A few pink flower petals were stuck in the tips of her hair. When she turned toward Eleanor, her eyes curved into a joyful smile.

“Your Highness.”

Andra bypassed the stone steps with a dash of style.

She lifted her hem and knelt on one knee, raising her face toward Eleanor just as she had in her past life: “I will become the sharp sword that protects you.”

Andra.

Eleanor silently recited the youth’s name in her heart.

Now, every time she thought of Andra, her heart produced a slight, stinging pain, as if a scar that would never heal had been carved into it.

This is good. This way, I will never forget you, nor forget my hate.

She couldn’t help but smile, leaning down toward the youth in the sunlight.

The little princess’s black hair fell like seaweed, and Andra, kneeling on the ground, hurried to straighten her back.

Impressions of yesterday still lingered in her mind—Eleanor was a shy, kind princess who looked very serene when she smiled. She would apologize to her for her stupid sister and blush unconsciously while chatting; she was extremely adorable.

Andra raised her face, wanting the Princess to see her handsome features clearly.

The Princess was smiling.

Andra had seen many people’s smiling faces. The loving nannies on the grasslands, the serious but slightly approving instructors, the flattery of nobles, the humility of slaves, those that were fervent, ill-intentioned, pleading, or full of seduction… human smiles were diverse.

She had envisioned Eleanor’s smile at this moment; it would surely be exceptionally joyful and sweet.

Andra’s shoulders stiffened.

The soft contours of the little princess quietly faded in her eyes, and she crashed straight into a pair of burning eyes.

Princess Eleanor’s eyes were soft amber, moist as water when she blinked. However, this moist amber was now flickering with golden flecks under the sunlight, reminding her of the unpredictable face of Eva, the King of Nolanna.

The Princess was smiling.

Those petal-like lips were clearly smiling.

Eleanor’s features were exquisite and soft; as long as there was a slight flush at the corners of her eyes and brows, a moving shyness would emerge. Her cheeks were moist with a pale pink, like the tint of the finest balm.

But that was not a childish smile, nor was it the shyness of a young girl, nor even the serene or confident smile of an adult woman.

Her lips were like a blooming flower, but her expression was as if a single lamp had been lit in an abyss, and then—facing the point of light—sharp teeth were bared!

Thump, thump-thump, thump-thump-thump!

Why? Why is my heart beating so fast?

Andra swallowed, nervously clenching her fist. She felt an extraordinary sense of trepidation.

Is this love? Is it the “love at first sight” people talk about during festivals? But this isn’t the first time I’ve met the Princess.

Nervousness, rapid breathing, an accelerating heartbeat. Blood was flowing toward the tips of her ears, which made Andra very uneasy. Reason told her earnestly that all her symptoms matched the feeling of falling in love.

Look the Princess is so cute, and she’s smiling at you. Of course you’ll feel your heart race!

Is that so? Her feelings argued back in a low voice.

In truth, the tremor she felt was closer to the intense fear a human feels when coming face-to-face with a tiger in the wild. It was her instinct screaming in her ear: Danger! Danger!!

Unfortunately, Andra had never experienced a similar emotion. She had encountered wolf packs many times as a child and had seen giant bears and tigers while crossing mountains. She was never afraid; she would calmly draw her longbow against the beasts. Of course, if the Royal Sister beside her prodded her a bit more, she would smile and draw her scimitar, charging toward those beasts that dared appear before her.

Some people feel heartfelt terror the first time they fight or kill. Andra didn’t; she loved fighting. That wasn’t a twisted emotion cultivated by someone else, but a natural joy found in battle.

To be fair, Andra didn’t like her mother, nor did she like her Royal Sister, because these people didn’t like her either; she could read the deep wariness and jealousy in their eyes. But in battle or when facing their provocations, she actually “liked” them. She liked plunging blades into the bodies of enemies—the stronger they were, the more interesting it was. She loved hunting the strong most of all!

Andra didn’t know that her current mood was fear. She knelt stiffly on the ground until the little princess took her hand and pressed Andra’s palm against her own soft cheek.

Her silhouette was reflected in those amber eyes.

“Andra.”

The Princess smiled radiantly, calling her name sweetly. It was as if she were a treasure finally found after crossing countless stretches of time.

Undoubtedly, this was love.

Andra’s breath stopped for a moment. She couldn’t help but stand up as the Princess pulled her, hearing that pleasant voice.

“From now on she is my Guardian Knight.”

“From now on… she is my Guardian Knight.”

Eleanor gripped Andra’s wrist and held it high in the air.

She looked around with a beaming smile, waiting for Manju and Thorns to submit their requests for a duel as they had before.

Eleanor had already thought it through: if you want to kill Andra, it’s best not to rely on others; do it yourself for self-sufficiency. Andra looked hearty and rough, but she was actually quite alert. In the first life, the only person she truly trusted was Eleanor.

When she was gazing at Andra just now, an idea had indeed surged in her heart: Should I simply let Eva execute Andra?

That thought was rejected in an instant. Firstly, while Eva appeared crazed, she was actually quite cautious in her actions. In her past life, even when killing a tiny princess, she didn’t just shout “drag her out and behead her,” but chose to execute her with poison after testing her to the very end. Andra was, after all, a Princess of Hetuya; even if Eva were enraged, she would likely only cut off one or two of her fingers or lock her up to humiliate her.

Eek… Eleanor thought about the potential consequences of such actions, and her heart ached. A normal Andra was already as terrifying as a ghost; if she were given even more childhood trauma… heaven knows what kind of monster she would grow up to be. She still resented Eva, Ophelia, and even Miscella, but she absolutely did not want the four of them hanging together and “playing mahjong” after the city fell.

Secondly, Eva was quite a rebellious person. Though her mother doted on her in the first life, she hadn’t done anything extra after the two regressions of the second life. Once Eva saw that she had a clear purpose for Andra, the King might decide to act contrary out of a whim for her own amusement after all, she didn’t have many years left to live anyway.

Eleanor held up Andra’s arm, having already cleared the plan for the killing in her mind. She intended to do it herself, so following the plotline of the first life was best. The Eleanor of the first life was the only person who possessed many opportunities to kill Andra. As long as she followed that established path, even if all her assassination attempts throughout her youth failed, she could still administer a cup of poisoned wine to Andra at any time after marriage.

Of course, a one-for-one trade was the worst-case plan; Eleanor didn’t want to give up her life after rebirth. She had to ensure that after getting rid of Andra, she would still have plenty of leeway to fulfill her dreams.

Andra’s arm trembled slightly in her palm. Perhaps this youth didn’t know she was afraid yet, but Eleanor saw a reaction that was entirely different from the infatuation of the past life.

The little princess scanned Manju and Thorns with a bit of impatience: Why haven’t they made a move yet?

She discovered to her surprise that although their faces looked poor, they made no move to step forward and stop her, let alone request a duel.

What’s going on? Could it be that they also have memories of the past life?

The strange reactions of her companions gave Eleanor a start. She looked over to the side and found that, forget Manju and Thorns, even Miscella, who always loved to joke and contradict her, was shrinking her shoulders and stammering, pretending to be a good little girl.

Under her sister’s glance, the elder sister’s feet retracted, simply not daring to meet her eyes.

Eleanor was left with no choice but to look helplessly at Coral, hoping this mature noble attendant would come and persuade her so the plot would return to its original track.

Coral didn’t speak. When she received the Princess’s gaze, she lowered her head slightly, as if nodding in agreement.

What were they afraid of? Afraid of Andra? No, it seemed more like they were terrified by her performance.

Eleanor turned to look into Andra’s eyes and instantly confirmed this: Andra was indeed a bit flattered, her golden eyes sparkling slightly. However, this look was not one of infatuation, but rather nimble and wary.

Eleanor was instantly alert: the me of this life is too different from the me of the first life. Even if the body is the same, her temperament and mindset have changed too much; she simply can’t fool the others.

She hesitated for a few seconds but didn’t reset immediately. Calming the resentment from her death took a long time, and the things she planned to do next would likely require a reset within seven days anyway; there was no need to waste a reset charge.

The little princess tucked away her smile. Seeing that those around her had no objections, she gave orders with a touch of daintiness: “Coral~ Take my knight over to try on clothes. Have a few more formal suits custom-made for her; she’ll definitely look very handsome!”

“Yes.”

Coral nodded reflexively. She was a bit surprised herself: Why don’t I want to remind the Princess at all today? She instinctively raised her head and felt an inexplicable shiver when she saw the Princess’s serene little face.

So cold… She walked to Andra and led the youth away in a hurry.

Eleanor turned back to her personal guards and said warmly: “You guards stay at the door for now. I have something to do; I’ll call you over in a moment.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” Manju and Thorns straightened their shoulders instinctively and responded in unison.

The little princess turned gracefully, gliding past the attendants like a feather. She spoke as she walked: “Bring my paper… parchment, ink, and quill.”

In the previous two lives, if the ten-year-old princess had given such an order when Coral wasn’t present, these noble attendants would usually have made a few jokes first. But in this life, no one laughed. The attendants left the room quickly and shortly returned with ink and bound parchment, silently spreading them out on the desk for the Princess.

Eleanor sat at the desk, her quill scratching across the paper. On one hand, she recorded the information she still remembered from the past life using Chinese characters and Pinyin; on the other, she pondered the problem from earlier.

Her change was too drastic. If Andra became completely suspicious, killing her would be very difficult. Andra’s attitude toward “Eleanor” and “others” was entirely different. She wanted to face an Andra who was fully invested, loved her to the point of being a bit silly, and wouldn’t even hesitate to use her own life to protect Eleanor in the face of danger not a King of Hetuya who appeared loyal but was actually ready to turn against her at any moment.

As she wrote, Eleanor gradually relaxed. Some good things were happening; perhaps because she had memorized it repeatedly before death or because she had been deeply involved personally, the memories of her past life were very solid. It took her several hours to record all the important information on the scrolls using a simplified code.

Eleanor closed the scrolls and had the attendants put them away. As soon as she got up and opened the door, she saw Manju, Thorns, and Andra standing in a row outside, like two-on-the-left-one-on-the-right door gods.

The little princess smiled and tugged on Andra’s sleeve, snuggling into her arms. “That’s great this outfit suits you so well.”

Andra hurriedly encircled Eleanor’s shoulders. She heard the girl in her arms whisper: “You are my Guardian Knight; you must be with me from now on.”

“Alright.” Andra’s heart beat even faster.

She was just about to say something back when the little princess slipped out from under her arm and waved to an attendant. “Come, Heidi, take my knight to familiarize her with the environment first, and then take her for a meal.”

After sending Andra away again, Eleanor calmly beckoned to Manju and Thorns: “Come in. And sister Coral, too. I want to have a proper talk with everyone.”

The three looked at each other blankly, unable to imagine why the little princess was so strange today.

Coral was the first to enter the room. After confirming there was no one else around, she sat with Manju and Thorns around the Princess. It was as if the four of them were enveloped in an invisible field.

Eleanor sat upright on the couch, her posture like that of an exquisite doll.

“I ask that you please never let what I am about to say leak out, and do not be too surprised. I must—”

The little princess took a deep breath. her voice was very low, yet it rolled through the three women’s ears like a thunderclap.

“Kill Andra.”

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