The Regressed Princess - Chapter 57

Chapter 57: A Brand New Start; Wait, Maybe I Can Add a Billion More Difficulties…

The ocean currents lifted her long hair, and Eleanor floated upward with them.

This regression was effortless and light. The fragrance of blooming mandrake brushed past the tip of her nose, vanishing at the moment space and time intersected. Eleanor breathed softly; her consciousness was clear this time, feeling like a small boat drifting leisurely toward a predetermined destination.

Her mind was calm—calm enough to seriously reflect on her previous failures and gains.

The first regression of this life was undoubtedly a failure. She hadn’t killed Andra and had instead caused the deaths of almost everyone important around her. There were many variables in the middle of that assassination that could be changed next time. For instance, the density of the traps, the concentration of the mandrake, the number of people in ambush… with enough luck, she might kill Andra in the very first encounter within one or two regressions.

But that wouldn’t work. That method was a dead end.

Eleanor felt her shoulders touch the soft surface of the bed. She closed her eyes and continued to think. Killing Andra within the palace would be a slap in Eva’s face. Her mother was an unpredictable King afflicted by a strange poison; she wouldn’t necessarily act according to normal logic.

In an extremely lucky scenario, she might spend three bloodstains to kill Andra and another two to handle Eva… which would be an entire petal.

Was it all worth it?

The Eleanor who had just regressed might have grit her teeth and said: “Worth it!” As long as she found a way to kill Andra, wouldn’t she be free as a bird? She still had four other petals; if one wasn’t enough, she’d use two.

But it wasn’t worth it.

The Eleanor who had been reborn for several days answered her own heart this way. This method of using petals seemed resolute, but it was actually a form of giving up. she could use a longer period to observe Andra’s weaknesses while improving herself, so.

The girl on the bed slowly opened her eyes.

Her long eyelashes fluttered like butterflies. Her eyes reddened slightly, but no tears fell. Her amber eyes darted twice, locking onto her sleeping sister beside her. Eleanor reached out both hands… and pinched Miscella’s big ears from both sides!

“Eeeek?!” Miscella cried out in her sleep. Who was shaking her head?!

She twisted and struggled to jump up from the bed, but since her sister refused to let go, Miscella’s leap ended with her carrying Eleanor on her back.

“Third Highness! What are you doing?” Coral yanked the curtains open, grabbed Miscella by her robe, and pressed her onto the rug, looking fierce enough to give her a spanking.

Thud.

Miscella’s chin knocked against the corner of the bed. She wailed piteously: “I didn’t do anything! It’s Eleanor—ow, ow, let go of my hair!”

The little Princess said nothing, tugging at her sister’s hair and ears. Her small hands rubbed vigorously over the “dog head” as if applying shampoo. Miscella wailed while thinking: Was the caterpillar I hid in her wardrobe discovered, or was it the snacks I stole from her?

Those small hands rubbed and yanked until Miscella slumped on the bed like a dead dog, only then letting go with a whoosh.

Eleanor sat back on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs and lowering her eyebrows, appearing slightly melancholy as usual.

“What’s wrong? What is actually wrong with you?” Miscella raised her head, her face full of question marks. She sprawled across her sister’s knees, staring face-to-face for a long time but failing to find any flaw.

Seeing that the little Princess was fine, Coral and the other attendants pulled the curtains completely open and brought clothes to help the sisters change. Miscella had a memory of only a few minutes; by the time she finished dressing, she had put the matter out of her mind. After all, she herself acted crazy all day; she couldn’t exactly forbid her sister from doing the same.

Miscella scratched her head, remembering what she wanted to say. She pointed sneakily out the window: “Hehe, that Hetuyan you wanted yesterday is kneeling outside. Want to bet on how much longer she can last?”

Eleanor sighed. “Sister, how can you humiliate the Hetuyan Royal Daughter like that? Nominally, she is a guest here.”

Though thinking back now, it was just Andra’s little scheme to trigger my pity.

“Uh…” Miscella was choked.

She really wanted to say that the kid didn’t count for much. Hetuyans always gave birth to a long string of children. In a few years, that girl would have many, many more sisters and be left to be forgotten in the Nolanna court. Miscella had a bit of cleverness; she knew that when the time came, the best path for the Hetuyan Princess would be to find some work in the Nolanna palace and become a little “nobody” ignored by both nations.

And that was a path granted to her out of mercy. Otherwise, if the two nations fought another major war, they could easily drag this Hetuyan out and use her to sacrifice to the flags on the spot.

While her sister was lost in thought, Eleanor had already run to the door with small, hurried steps.

“Andra~” She called the Hetuyan’s name and stopped at the porch.

Through her sister’s petite frame, Miscella saw a figure approaching gracefully. Golden-red long hair floated in the air, appearing as if the sun had been lit at the tips. The Hetuyan was exceptionally beautiful; even Miscella had to admit that her golden irises were more brilliant than the gold beads on the curtains.

The Hetuyan smiled. Oh, of course she would.

Looking at Andra’s mesmerized smile, Miscella felt a surge of displeasure: My sister is the cutest in the world; what is this kid thinking!

“Andra, are you alright?”

The little Princess ran from the hall to the corridor. She instinctively took a step forward, then timidly shrank back into the porch, only daring to peek out with half her body. The morning sun fell on her slightly pale cheeks, adding a vibrant touch of color.

Thump, thump-thump.

Andra breathed deeply as her heart accelerated, imprinting that refreshing fragrance into the depths of her soul.

“Rest assured, I am fine.”

She knelt on one knee while walking, raising her face to meet the flickering gaze of the little Princess, and spoke the words that had rolled between her teeth countless times.

“Princess, I am willing to become the sharp sword that protects you.”

Hearing this, the little Princess shyly covered her face with her sleeve, only lowering it after a long moment. She hurried to Andra’s side and, as if picking up a cherished treasure, held Andra’s right hand and rubbed it gently.

“It’s different from mine.”

The little Princess’s delicate palm brushed over her somewhat rough hand, letting out a soft exclamation. In her crisp voice, there was only curiosity, no disdain.

“Yes, I will practice even harder.” Andra was pulled up by the little Princess. She gently cradled the Princess’s warm small hand and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Eleanor smiled radiantly. Suddenly, using a bit more strength, she raised Andra’s right hand and announced loudly to those around.

“Everyone, from now on, Andra is my Guardian Knight.”

She looked around to observe everyone’s reaction. Coral had been tidying the bed and was only now rushing out, while Manju and Thorns—under her meaningful gaze—stepped out of the formation.

“Highness, please reconsider. This person is of the Hetuyan Royal Blood,” Manju pleaded, kneeling on one knee.

Thorns was even more direct; she drew the sword at her waist, holding it high above her head as she declared: “Highness, only the strongest is fit to stay by your side. Please allow me to duel her!”

Wonderful. The sequence has returned to the correct path.

Eleanor stepped between them and advised softly: “Everyone will be my personal guard from now on, there’s no need to…”

Rustle.

Andra took a proactive step forward to shield the Princess behind her. She said with a smile, “Princess, it seems they have some small doubts about my strength. Please give me a chance to prove myself.”

Eleanor stared at the confident youth in the sunlight for a few seconds, then nodded gently. “Alright. Then… let no one be hurt.”

Andra’s swordsmanship was exactly as it had been in the past life. In this life, Eleanor called for a stop sooner, and no one was injured when the blades parted.

“Alright, alright. Andra’s swordsmanship is good enough. You can be at ease now, right?”

Eleanor spread her arms to stand between the two groups. After Manju sheathed her sword, the little Princess patted her shoulder gently and blinked meaningfully. Seeing the Princess’s lively eyes, the twins instinctively lowered their hands and stepped aside.

Andra didn’t see their small exchange. She briskly returned her sword to its scabbard. When the Princess walked back, Andra looked up, her eyes brimming with affection. The little Princess came to her side and took her arm intimately.

They had only been close for a moment when Eleanor, as if remembering something, pointed a finger at the spectating Miscella and said aloud: “Andra, since your swordsmanship is so good, why don’t you teach my sister as well?”

“Huh?!” Before anyone else could speak, Miscella jumped up like a firecracker, protesting shrilly: “No way! I won’t! I’m super strong, okay? Don’t let her come over and hold me back!!”

Eleanor looked at Miscella’s head, which was shaking like a rattle, and a crack appeared in her gentle expression.

You’re strong? Andra would hold you back?

She carefully recalled the memories of the previous two lives. When Andra mentioned Miscella in the first life, the keyword was “courage” essentially, setting everything else aside, her courage was quite commendable.

In the second life… the Andra of the second life had an awkward expression, calling her a “warrior,” which was still “praising” the purely subjective concept of bravery. Both statements only stated the objective fact that Miscella went to the battlefield to face the enemy, but not once was her combat power mentioned.

Could my sister’s swordsmanship be absolutely atrocious?

Thinking of this, Eleanor hurried over to Miscella, jumped up, and pulled her hair with force. “Get over here! Study hard with Andra!”

Everyone couldn’t help but show expressions of surprise. Although the Princess had educated the Third Highness before, because she often had headaches, she would usually just hold her head, coughing feebly while waving a hand to advise her. This time, she wasn’t just waving; she was getting hands-on.

A flash of confusion also crossed Andra’s eyes, but it was soon replaced by interest. When she first saw Eleanor, the little Princess swayed slightly while walking, making her feel a mix of pity and worry. Now it seemed the Princess’s health was improving? And her personality was quite lively.

“Eek…” Miscella wanted to brush her sister’s hand away, but remembering her sister’s fragility, she obediently followed her hair over. Despite her body coming over, her mouth remained stubborn: “Listen well, I will not learn from the weak!”

The guards and attendants kept their faces straight and remained silent. Eleanor wasn’t going to indulge her; she let out a scoffing laugh. Heh, how does my sister dare call Andra weak? It seems the previous bullying was too successful.

Too lazy to speak, she directly had a guard pull a sword from her waist and stuff it into her sister’s hand, making a “please” gesture from the side. Andra also cooperatively drew her sword again. “Then I ask for Your Highness’s guidance.”

Her previous act of playing piteous was just to attract Eleanor’s attention. Now that she was the Guardian Knight, there was no longer any reason to hide her talent.

“Hmph~” Miscella rubbed her nose, talking big while raising her sword: “Watch your sister run this little kid through! Waaaaah!”

Miscella finished speaking and charged forward, howling. A few minutes later, there was a “corpse” lying motionless on the ground.

Stupid Miscella, to escape the fact of her defeat, was actually lying face down playing dead… truly a child of three lifetimes.

Eleanor looked helplessly at her sister on the ground. Forget it, my goal has been achieved anyway.

Her move today of “teach my sister” wasn’t aimless. Eleanor had been wondering how someone like her sister could cause damage to Andra without hurting those around her. Then an idea came to her: Wouldn’t it be enough to just let her be a burden to Andra?

Regardless of whether Andra’s teaching skills were high or low, trying to teach a bipedal Husky would surely waste a massive amount of time and heartblood, right? From now on, Andra can live a “miserable” life being burdened by Miscella by day and by her by night.

Wait, maybe I can add a billion more difficulties?

Eleanor looked at the sword on the ground and tried to pick it up twice without success. Consequently, she looked up and said sweetly to Andra: “Andra, I want to learn swordsmanship too.”

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