The Regressed Princess - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Meeting Eva Again—”Please Trust Me, Mother.”

Eva, the King of Nolanna.

Upon hearing the name and forming an image of the woman in her mind, Andra’s smile vanished instantly, her brows furrowing instinctively.

She did not like Eva.

This Nolannan woman, who shared a name with the Goddess of Wisdom, had once stirred up a great deal of trouble in Hetuya.

In her prime, Eva’s reputation for ferocity was legendary. It was said she had competed against numerous chieftains in swordsmanship, spearmanship, horsemanship, and archery. The stories in Hetuya claimed Eva had won through trickery, winning two out of three matches. In Nolanna, however, they said the King had won all three, crushing her opponents with pure strength.

Regardless, the historians of both nations objectively recorded how this sovereign campaigned against chieftain after chieftain in Hetuya, even terrifying the Hetuyan Royal Court of that era into retreat.

In fact, even Aguno’s rise to the throne was linked to Eva: Eva had killed Aguno’s mother, forcing the young Princess to succeed the throne prematurely.

Up to this point, there was nothing about Eva that Andra truly hated. She never despised the strong; rather, they only ignited her intense desire to win. Andra had grown up listening to legends of Eva—some good, some very bad. There weren’t many Nolannan Kings who could make a Hetuyan child stop crying, but Eva was the protagonist of her childhood bedtime stories.

The nannies had plenty of criticisms of Eva. They said she had taken away the most beautiful Princess of Hetuya at the time but had never truly cherished her. That little Princess had become a sacrifice to court intrigue before she could even bear a child.

It was said that Eva had only ever deeply loved her first Queen, Elena a pure childhood romance that no one else could hope to shake.

But after her coronation, Eva had clearly obtained everything, yet she had transformed from a human into a ghost… In just over a decade, her former fearsome reputation had become a laughingstock.

Andra used to think this was merely the Hetuyans slandering the King of Nolanna; after all, in the stories, the hero who cut down enemies and exterminated giant monsters was a magnificent figure. Even now, Hetuya dared not invade Nolanna, and their willingness to offer a hostage-princess was actually an attempt to test one thing: What exactly had happened to Eva? Was there a crack in her armor where they could seize an advantage?

Andra had come to Nolanna with curiosity and a shred of admiration, but when she looked up, she saw only a decaying corpse…

Not only decaying, but also indolent and arrogant!

The King of Nolanna had yawned, drunkenly ignoring diplomatic etiquette, and hadn’t even spared a glance at the Princess they had sent.

“Take her down; let her stay in the side palace,” Eva had waved her fingers lazily, as if arranging for a minor provincial consort, a noble’s attendant, or an anonymous scholar.

Kneeling on the ground, a fierce anger had surged within Andra: …How dare you!

The Princess of Hetuya suppressed her inner indignation. The King of Nolanna had the capital for arrogance; she had defeated countless tribal chiefs over a decade ago and stood backed by a powerful nation.

Heh, are you still powerful? …Is your kingdom still powerful?

The seeds of anger and doubt were planted in the heart of the young teen during that first meeting. Andra had bowed her proud head, waiting for the day the hunter and the prey would swap places.

Shh.

The carriage came to a halt. Eleanor smoothed her dress, preparing to disembark.

Andra instinctively supported the Princess’s hand and whispered to her, “You… don’t need to explain things to her too clearly.”

Eleanor couldn’t help but look at her sideways. It was true; in the original timeline, the ministers and city guards had conspired to keep her mother in the dark. Although Eva eventually saw through part of the ruse, the point of her anger had only been that they “used a giant to fool her and scared the child,” rather than the actual slave rebellion happening outside.

In fact, the Eva of the second life had also let her off easy. Even after realizing that she was no longer the little Princess who relied on her, as long as she took Messara far away from the succession, Eva hadn’t pursued them.

Did Eva really care about Ophilia?

Eleanor had considered this question many times over the subsequent decade. The final answer was: she cared, but not that much.

Eva had left behind safeguards for Ophilia: a secret decree, loyal death-sworn guards, and command over the army. Even the city lords and high nobles of various city-states had told Messara after her coronation, “We betrayed your mother’s wishes,” indicating that Eva had signaled for them to pledge loyalty to Ophilia before she died.

But setting up these safeguards wasn’t “troublesome.” Eva didn’t need to do much extra work; she simply made the gesture of “I am leaving these things to you.”

She hadn’t exhausted herself training Ophilia, nor had she simply killed Messara to clear all obstacles for her. That was the foundation that allowed Messara’s successful “usurpation” in the previous life.

Eva was willing to pass the throne to Ophilia, but beyond that, she was indifferent to both Ophilia and the state caring nothing for the floods that might follow her death. Such an attitude was difficult to cooperate with, but easy to placate.

Seeing her pause at the entrance, Andra urged again, “Since Scar-Eye is willing to present the legion as a gift to the King, Your Highness Eleanor might as well find a better time to offer it.”

Giving a gift at someone else’s banquet was decent enough. But Andra looked at the chaotic state of the palace and instinctively didn’t want Eleanor to step inside.

The little Princess said calmly, “I have some things to say to Mother in private. By the way…”

She raised her eyes, her gaze fixing on Andra’s face yet seeming to look into the far distance. “Andra, are you willing to accompany me to a place very, very far away?”

The little Princess’s tone was hollow enough to be unsettling.

Where was this “very far place”? Exile? Abroad? Hell? They all seemed like ominous possibilities.

Andra felt a slight ache in her heart. She opened her mouth to say “I am willing,” but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come out.

The little Princess smiled and tapped Andra’s lips with her finger. “It’s fine. We’ll talk about it later.”

Twilight had arrived, and the sun hid its last shred of light.

The King of Nolanna’s morning court had long since ended, but Eva’s life was just beginning.

The tinkling of lute strings was pleasant to the ear, and a fragrant mist of exotic incense permeated the palace.

The little Princess’s carriage stopped at the porch outside the palace. An attendant saw it and hurriedly ran inside to announce her arrival. Eva at night was always easier to talk to than Eva in the morning; it seemed no one cared about the King’s majesty or punishment anymore.

Andra stood outside the hall and looked in, just in time to see the debauched Eva with one hand draped over a consort, licking wine from their pale fingers.

This scene was undoubtedly unsuitable for the little Princess to witness.

She stepped in front of Eleanor, saying dismissively, “The King of Nolanna seems too drunk. How about we come back tomorrow?”

“No, Mother is perfectly sober right now.”

Eleanor shook her head, watching the laughing Eva inside the palace with complex emotions. Having lived three lives, her feelings in this one were different again.

In her second life, she only felt that her mother was cold to her children and heartless to her people, wanting nothing more than to draw a clear line between them. But midway through, she discovered Eva was suffering from a strange poison she was powerless to cure.

In her previous life, she had also tried to have her followers investigate. Relying on clues and the process of elimination, she had traced it back to Ophilia’s mother, Elena. But that person had been dead for years; while evidence was severely lacking, she also couldn’t find a sample or formula for the poison.

Thus, in her last life, she could only commission doctors and alchemists to use Eva’s corpse for research after her death, but they simply couldn’t develop an antidote.

However… that didn’t mean she had gained nothing.

Eleanor pressed against Andra’s arm and gave a gentle push. This force was soft but firm, forcing Andra to step aside with a bow.

“Your Highness…”

“Andra, I truly have very important business to attend to.”

Eleanor turned her face, her amber eyes reflecting the flickering flames of the candlelight. Andra wanted to keep moving forward but was stopped by that gaze.

She instinctively stepped back a few paces, watching as the little Princess stepped into the palace without looking back, entering the bright light swirled with mist.

Eleanor walked through the thick, fragrant mist, ignoring the boisterous or coquettish laughter around her, and headed straight for the center of the palace.

Eva was reclining on a large marble couch layered with plush carpets. Beneath her and the beauties was a very wide indoor pool, its surface steaming with water vapor in the mist. From time to time, a guest would “accidentally” fall in, embracing the lightly-clad attendants tightly amidst crisp laughter.

Their laughter was melodious and rhythmic, like a piece of music rehearsed countless times, ensuring the master of the banquet would never feel a hint of irritation.

Eleanor was not a true ten-year-old child; she wasn’t scared into running away by this domain accessible only to adults. But she still frowned: It’s too chaotic. Andra wouldn’t be like this…

If I wasn’t there to manage her, would Andra really not be like this? She also likes drinking and pleasure.

Whispers pried at the cracks in her heart. Eleanor did not answer her own doubts and continued toward her mother.

Eva raised her head from the embrace of a beauty. Originally tall in stature, she was currently wrapped tightly in countless soft arms like an infant.

Peace, comfort, and… irritation.

She took the offered cup with her lips and swallowed the wine, letting that stiff sense of destruction sink into her throat along with the alcohol.

Rustle, rustle.

The sound of legs rubbing against fabric was everywhere, but a distinct set of footsteps suddenly joined in, treading toward her.

Eva looked over according to the sound. She didn’t care which consort’s clever little idea this was; as long as it could make her forget the pain for a moment, anything was fine… Oh, it wasn’t a consort?

She saw the girl’s ankles, and then the entire silhouette.

Eleanor’s jet-black hair manifested in the mist. She walked calmly, and the surrounding noise quietly drew back. The little Princess was like an orca swimming on the ocean’s surface, distinctly parting the waves of people.

She half-knelt beside her mother, leaning against Eva’s shoulder and whispering, “I have something very important I want to say to you alone. Is that alright?”

The cup at Eva’s lips was suddenly moved away. The consorts hadn’t done it on purpose; it was just that when the little Princess arrived, these young girls seemed to be suddenly influenced by something, remembering their own noble origins and primly tidying themselves up both collars and hemlines.

Eva didn’t mind their actions. At this moment, her mind weakened countless times by alcohol was entirely focused on her daughter. Her daughter had changed; the change was immense.

Eleanor was her most beloved little Princess for a simple reason she was cute enough, smart enough, resembled her, and yet could never possibly be her. How perfect. This sickly child relied on her mother with her whole heart and soul; whenever Eva was bored enough to need a little “love,” she would think of Eleanor.

Eleanor usually didn’t need to be “thought of”; she would appear before her from time to time, just like today. But… I haven’t seen this child for over ten days.

Eva was suddenly curious: So, what happened during these ten days?

The old saying goes that children change every day. But Eleanor’s change couldn’t be explained away with that phrase. It was a complete metamorphosis—not just in temperament, but even her aura had shifted.

Those doe-like, moist eyes and slightly fawning gaze had completely disappeared, replaced by the surface of a calm lake.

The little Princess rested one hand on the King’s shoulder. This posture wasn’t much different from her former habit of throwing herself into an embrace, yet it was so very different. And then there was that tone—respectful yet distant, like a “loyal subject.”

Eva felt she was drunk, yet this change was truly interesting.

“Alright, come here, my Lily. What story do you want to tell today?” She narrowed her eyes at Eleanor, wrapping one arm around her daughter’s shoulder as if she hadn’t noticed a thing.

With a wave of the King’s hand, the drums, the lute strings, the bells, the laughter… all sounds faded in an instant. Not even the most favored courtier said a word after she raised her hand; they rolled up their sleeves faster than a bubble bursts and left along with the musicians.

The coquettish consorts wrapped themselves in robes handed over by attendants and vanished behind wooden screens, the sounds of secret doors clicking shut echoing everywhere.

As the people left, the thick mist also began to fade.

Those who could still remain in the corners of the room at this time had to be Eva’s most trusted Praetorian guards. Even so, Eleanor leaned down close to her mother’s ear, saying in a voice only the two of them could hear: “Mother, please let me seek an antidote for you.”

Eva’s finger twitched. She asked with a smile, “What antidote?”

Her young daughter’s voice vibrated in her ear: “I am willing to spend my life researching how to neutralize the poison in your body… My current prescription might be able to delay your agony.”

She didn’t wait for Eva to react, quickly reciting a medical formula where the main ingredient was a tiny amount of mandrake powder.

“It will numb your nerves. If taken long-term… even someone of noble blood would suffer significant side effects.”

Of course, these side effects were far less severe than alcohol laced with various herbs, and if an antidote couldn’t be found, Eva would likely not live long enough for the side effects to worsen.

Eva’s lips moved, and her right hand instinctively reached for the empty wine cup—but she eventually lowered her hand, looking at the girl leaning on her shoulder with a complex expression. Her daughter… her face seemed even more exhausted than her own.

The King had many points of suspicion she could break through one by one, such as questioning where Eleanor had been lately, why she knew her mother had been poisoned, how she had the confidence to research an antidote, and where this formula came from…

But she closed her eyes and asked the first question that surfaced in her mind.

“Who are you?”

“Eleanor. I am still Eleanor.”

The little girl answered calmly. Her tall mother opened her eyes and looked at her. The curve of their tightly pursed lips was strangely similar, and even their silhouettes gradually overlapped under the shifting light and shadow of the candlelight.

After a long silence, the King neither said she believed nor offered a rebuttal. She might have been suspecting a monster in a fairy tale wearing a human skin; she curiously pinched Eleanor’s cheek and pulled, tugging it into a distressed grimace.

“Hahaha,” Eva narrowed her eyes and asked with a smile, “Fine. How certain are you? And what do you want from me?”

Eleanor’s heart eased. Her mother had agreed; she didn’t sense any danger in her tone.

Maybe I should just use a bloodstain to test if I can become the Crown Princess.

Her lips moved, wanting to tentatively suggest “I want to drink the potion to become the Crown Princess,” but a sharp pain shot through her chest at that moment.

No… now was not the right time. She didn’t have a true antidote, nor did she have absolute certainty in killing Andra. Perhaps in this life, it was better to first solve the first two problems as a Princess.

And—

Can a Princess not become a King? Why can’t I be the first?

In a blink, a strange ambition ignited within Eleanor. A flicker of fire rose in her weary eyes. With an unfathomable smile, she whispered in the King’s ear: “I need many scholars to help me research. I need to travel to the territories… and more, many more places.”

“Mother, I will do everything in my power even if I have to travel through every city-state and every country.”

The little Princess’s black hair seemed to come alive like shadows of snakes, nimbly wrapping around Eva’s right arm. Her tone was like a chant: “If you are worried, I can take Sister Messara with me when I leave…”

Clang.

The cup in Eva’s hand hit the floor. She looked at her daughter leaning on her knees in a daze, as if seeing someone through her eyes a young woman who had been dead for a long time, a woman who had nothing to do with Eleanor.

“Please trust me, Mother.”

“How could you not believe me, Eva?”

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