The Regressed Princess - Chapter 51

Chapter 51: The Hunter and the Prey; Kill Andra?

Kill Andra?

The group pondered for a long while before realizing which Andra she meant: this was completely out of left field. What kind of deep-seated hatred could a ten-year-old little princess have with a neighboring kingdom’s royal daughter?

Children really do act on whims.

Just yesterday, she was shouting and demanding that Miscella stop bullying others, pleading with the King to send Andra over as a personal guard. How could it escalate to shouting for her head today?

Coral stumbled on the carpet. She rushed to Eleanor’s side, vigorously rubbing the princess’s small head while saying in a flurry: “Oh, my Highness… you scared me to death. You can’t make such jokes; who taught you to speak like this?”

The young girl sat upright on the couch, her gaze slightly dark, concealing a dangerous emotion.

Eleanor remained motionless. Only after Coral finished fussing did she slowly part her lips: “I am not joking. I had a dream, and in that dream, I lived a long life.”

Her voice was saturated with a moving tenderness.

Coral instinctively grabbed the little princess’s arm, wanting to tuck her into her embrace. But the moment she lowered her head, she saw the princess’s eyes and froze: so calm… yet so sorrowful. Teardrops were held in those bright eyes, on the verge of falling.

“Coral, it was a very long… very, very real dream. Thorns and Sister were both dead, Andra destroyed our country… everyone was gone.”

The tears finally slid down, and Eleanor’s voice shattered in the air. “I married her.”

Silence filled the room.

Thump, thump.

Coral suddenly rushed to the window and flung it open. She poked her head out to check outside, then immediately shut it and scurried back.

“Your Highness!”

She gripped Eleanor’s shoulders and spoke with gravity: “Don’t worry, a dream is just a dream… dreams have nothing to do with reality! Do not be afraid…”

[But I know it wasn’t a dream.]

To kill Andra as quickly as possible, she had to obtain the full support of those around her. Eleanor pressed her fingers onto the back of Coral’s hand, squeezing the words from the depths of her heart.

“But I truly lived a whole life in that dream… Coral.”

Coral opened her mouth, wanting to use a more serious tone to wake the girl still immersed in her dream. But with one look, she was scorched by Eleanor’s dense despair.

She knew Eleanor too well. She had raised the little princess herself.

Her Highness had suffered from severe headaches since she was small. At first, she would whimper under the covers like a kitten; later, fearing her cries would distress others, she would huddle silently in bed, eyes closed regardless of whether she could sleep.

The child she knew—clever, prone to acting spoiled, innocent, and kind had lifted her eyelids. A child’s eyes are usually clear and bright; Eleanor’s smile could usually make one forget her fragility.

But now, all that entered Coral’s sight was a fog-like sorrow.

[It hurts, I’m in so much pain.] The child who usually endured pain was proactively opening her heart to her, and it was covered in scars. This was no longer bodily pain, but trauma that required more thought and more experience to be etched into the soul.

The corners of Coral’s eyes moistened at the touch of such emotion, but she insisted on holding Eleanor, whispering: “Highness, the dream is over. Just treat it as a dream; do not remain entangled in it.”

Eleanor looked into Coral’s eyes and knew she had to produce something more practical to prove the dream and reality were linked. Andra wasn’t a simple nightmare; she would persist through their lives until everyone turned to history.

She beckoned Manju and Thorns closer and whispered: “Maloni, 23 years old, currently living in the capital, highly talented in mechanics…”

Under the bewildered gazes of the group, the little princess began to recite the names, addresses, and general information of strangers. She listed ten consecutive entries before stopping to take a sip of water.

“They are the talents I recruited in my dream. The few I just named are currently living in the capital. You and Manju can send people from your families to investigate; they will prove whether I am right.”

Coral’s heart rate instantly accelerated. This move was excellent. If these “talents” truly existed, then the events of the dream gained credibility perhaps it really could be viewed as a prophecy.

But then she reconsidered: what if an ill-intentioned person was manipulating and guiding the princess, providing her with a list?

As Coral hesitated, Eleanor immediately added another weight to the scale.

“Coral, I know the ore vein your family values most is nearly exhausted. However, in two years, you will survey a much richer vein; I can draw its location on a map for you first.”

She immediately turned to Manju. “Your family business is vast. I have a bookkeeping method from the dream that is much better than the one you currently use.”

Coral and Manju looked at each other, their gazes shifting from suspicion to resolve. Whether the bookkeeping method was good remained to be seen, but the value of a rich ore vein far surpassed a lie fabricated to “kill Andra.”

The Princess’s dream might be false, but as long as the ore vein was real, the family would surely be willing to take a risk.

Manju stepped forward and bowed formally. “Highness, since you have made such a decision, shall I begin contacting assassins tomorrow?”

Assassinating a neighboring royal daughter was a serious crime, but fortunately, King Aguño of Hetuya was still young; she wouldn’t turn against Nolanna over a single child. The danger was controllable.

To her surprise, Eleanor waved her hand and refused.

“No, hiring assassins is too slow. It would take at least half a month for them to plan and act.”

Was half a month too slow? Assassinating a royal daughter living in the palace required careful deliberation by any standard. The families were willing to help with the killing but were unwilling to take the fall; they would need to plan meticulously to distance themselves. If they couldn’t find a suitable scapegoat, it would be delayed by six months at least.

Manju asked in confusion: “Then what you mean is…”

Eleanor raised a single finger.

“One week. I give everyone one week at most.”

“?!”

“In this week, everyone has only one goal: to kill Andra with everything you have. Poison, traps, even luring her out to hack her down with swords anything is fine.”

How is that possible!

Manju suppressed the urge to shout and lowered her head: “Highness, the time is too tight. We must clear our suspicion afterward, or the King will not forgive us.”

Eleanor nodded. “I know. That is why I require everyone to kill Andra within seven days. As long as the task is completed within this timeframe, I can guarantee all risks will vanish.”

Seven days? Guarantee no risk? No one understood the logic of the little princess’s words. Even the King couldn’t fully guarantee that the killer of a neighboring royal daughter could get away scot-free.

Eleanor knew their misgivings, but this risk was necessary. The reason she limited it to seven days was that her single-reset limit was six days. Everyone usually needs one day for preparation; counting from the second day made exactly seven.

She wanted to see if, with everyone using every trick in the book, she could kill Andra from the very start. As long as she found one stable assassination method within these seven days, she could rely on multiple resets to find a path that killed Andra without being discovered, or at least without being executed by Eva.

The air grew heavy; only the sound of breathing could be heard.

Coral slowly knelt on the floor, advising gently: “Why be in such a hurry, Highness? Even if it is a prophetic dream… none of it has happened yet. You could try to influence her first; the Mother Goddess surely wouldn’t want you mired in killing.”

“Because I have tried, Coral.”

Eleanor’s voice was raspy as she shook her head. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I flattered her, helped her, spared her… and in the end,”

The girl gripped the collar at her chest, finally showing a childish fragility.

“It hurts. She left a very, very deep wound here… it hurts so much!”

The girl she had raised since childhood let out a mournful cry. Coral could hear that this wasn’t the spoiled whim of a headache; it was filled with an inexpressible breakdown. She threw her arms around the little princess’s shoulders, hurriedly tidying her ruffled collar, but her fingers suddenly stopped.

“Highness… what is this?!”

As Coral pulled the garment aside, the lapels spread open.

“Princess Eleanor!” “Highness…”

Manju and Thorns gasped, and Thorns began to sob quietly.

Eleanor looked down. On the spot where she had been pierced by the sword in her past life, a blood-red scar had appeared. This scar was closer to a birthmark than a wound, yet its outline radiated outward, looking somewhat like a four-pointed star.

There was a clear dark-red border around the scar; it encased the fissure, as if forcing all the blood and hurt to contract into the star-shaped gap, preventing it from spreading through her whole body.

It was the Mother Goddess…

Eleanor grew quiet. The piercing screams of “Andra, Andra” in her mind finally ceased. She covered the wound and leaned quietly against Coral’s shoulder.

“Help me.”

“Alright.”

Half an hour later, Manju and Coral hid the parchment Eleanor had just written filled with valuable information on their persons. With this data, they wouldn’t need to over-explain; they could directly exchange the intelligence for help from their families.

However, the heads of both houses were the type who wouldn’t act without seeing concrete gains. They wouldn’t truly strike without being certain of the profit, but they would help with preparation. One week was too tight, and Andra always stayed in the palace; assassins wouldn’t even take the job.

The group couldn’t think of how to successfully assassinate her, so Eleanor provided a line of thought.

“Isolate her first. Andra was just chosen as my Guardian Knight; it’s normal for my personal guards to be hostile toward her.”

Her eyes flickered as she spoke: “Don’t have them go for the kill immediately though they can. Primarily, use it as harassment, so Andra cannot see the real danger and thinks she is just being bitten by gnats on all sides.”

And then?

And then… she thought of a kite. That valley was a good choice; it could work in tandem with poison. After all, Andra had been seriously injured in the first life; Eleanor had even wiped her wounds and concocted medicine for her then.

“Coral, do you know of any poison that isn’t obvious…”

Bang!

The sound of the door being hit startled them. Fortunately, the person outside let out an “Ow” it was Miscella.

Eleanor nodded, and Coral went to open the door.

Miscella walked in clutching her head, looking around curiously. This little thing had scurried off to class dispiritedly in the morning, but after a day of lessons, she was lively again. She flopped onto the bed, howling as she rolled around.

“So tired, so tired, I want to sleepie-sleep~”

Miscella was waiting for Coral to pick her up for a bath, after which she could hug her pillow and sleep with her soft younger sister.

“No. From now on, you have to go back to sleep,” Eleanor sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over.

Miscella’s swinging arms stopped in mid-air. She didn’t want to go back to her cold bedchamber; she immediately widened her eyes to object: “Why? I won’t!”

Her sister shook her head heartlessly. “I have to sleep with Andra from now on.”

“Waaaaah”

Miscella exploded. She jumped up like a little firecracker, shouting and screaming: “No, no, no! You aren’t allowed to sleep with that brat!”

Eleanor watched her sister rolling across the bed, suddenly remembering the first life was the same. She had announced Andra as her Guardian Knight, and Manju and Thorns were naturally very opposed. But their opposition didn’t last long on the surface. Andra was a natural warrior and soon conquered all the guards with her superior swordsmanship, winning everyone’s recognition through strength.

Only Miscella didn’t care about that. She began to secretly tail Andra, catching the occasional chance when she was alone.

In the first life, Miscella actually caught a flaw once. Andra would sneak out every night to practice her sword. One day, Miscella gathered a group of idle noble attendants and, while Andra was on a bridge, knocked her into the pool. They used wooden poles to bash and poke her, preventing her from climbing out…

Drowning!

Eleanor’s eyes lit up.

In the first life, Andra’s swimming skills weren’t great before she went to Enlin. Because there were rarely deep enough rivers on the grasslands, Andra had never learned to swim.

“Eleanor, I could have swum as soon as I hit the water, but that jerk kept poking me with a pole!”

Back then, Andra had finally struggled ashore, snatched the pole, and fought off ten people. She sat on the bed complaining to Eleanor when she returned. Her little princess had wept while applying balm to her wounds: “Boohoo, if only I had been there…”

Yes.

The current Eleanor couldn’t help but nod: If only I had been there, I would have held your head down firmly. Even as a ghost, I wouldn’t let you up!

Eleanor kept the inspiration of drowning in mind. Andra’s athletic talent was strong; the drowning tactic could only be used once. In the first life, Miscella hadn’t managed to kill Andra even with a pole; this life needed a better plan, not such crude work.

“Stop howling!” Eleanor suddenly raised her voice and slapped Miscella’s back hard.

The strike startled her sister, causing her to choke and start hiccuping.

“What was that for hic… so, so mean! hic!”

Seeing her sister’s frozen, cold face, Miscella remembered the fear she felt in the morning. She immediately curled into a ball, whimpering and shrinking back.

Eleanor gripped her shoulder, her mouth close to Miscella’s ear as she whispered: “Don’t worry, I won’t like Andra more than you. Come fly kites with us in a few days, and help me with one more thing while you’re at it.”

Phew… It seemed her sister had returned to normal; she still had her elder sister in her heart! Miscella sniffed and straightened her back, pretending the cowardly person from just now wasn’t her. “Fine, what is it.”

Eleanor put an arm around her back, leaning against her shoulder as usual. “Help me push Andra down the hillside. And don’t forget to bring plenty of rocks.”

The little princess affectionately tapped her sister’s head. “Rocks bigger than your head, okay~”

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