The Regressed Princess - Chapter 66

Chapter 66: The Fool — “You Will Protect Me Forever, Won’t You?”

The bright moon hung high in the sky. A youth with long, golden-red hair leaned against the corridor of the Marigold Palace with arms crossed. Andra’s eyes were slightly lidded, her expression carrying a hint of loneliness.

Her sword hung slanted at her waist.

The training grounds were not far away, but no matter how many attendants bustled in and out, she remained leaning against the porch, waiting for Eleanor to conclude round after round of “negotiations.”

The little Princess had returned from the King’s chambers.

After a busy day at the market, she had already begun yawning in the carriage; a child that small should have been in bed long ago. But Eleanor had rejected Coral’s advice. Her eyes were startlingly bright, flickering with an abnormally burning fire a flame that had frightened Coral away and pinned Andra to the spot.

Her Highness was intensely focused now. When she left the King of Nolanna’s palace, she was immersed in a palpable state of excitement.

Eleanor was excited. But about what?

Andra fell into deep thought. She, too, had felt some excitement today initially because of her “private date” with the little Princess, and later because they had shared a crisis, a distance-closing experience.

But the Princess she seemed to be in a hurry.

“Andra, are you willing to accompany me to a place very, very far away?”

In the Princess’s explanation, that “very far place” was Enlin or some distant country, but Andra felt her expression at the time clearly implied something more.

The first thing Eleanor did upon her return was pack. She hurriedly instructed the attendants: “Quickly, quickly! Do not leave anything behind. Everyone, act according to my instructions!”

She didn’t leave things to Coral’s discretion; instead, she meticulously assigned different tasks to each person. The reason the Princess was being so “unruly” could only be that there wasn’t enough time. She had to split the work among different people to complete it simultaneously within a limited window—and this was likely something only she understood the reasons for, while everyone else simply had to follow orders.

Gold and silver jewelry went without saying, but even potted herbs weren’t overlooked. What she brought the most of were rolls of parchment. She also ordered attendants into the city to find scholars—famous or otherwise—and use various rhetorics to persuade them to come to the court.

“Today or tomorrow!” The little Princess waved her hand, as if delaying until the third day would mean failure—perhaps being vetoed by a sobered Eva?

At first, Andra was curious, her mood infected by the little Princess’s agitation: What exactly was Eleanor plotting? Why was she in such a rush? What roles were the King of Nolanna and Eleanor herself playing in this?

But when the first guest-scholar was invited into the palace for a detailed talk, a sense of unease smoothed the leisurely smile from Andra’s face.

Andra shifted her posture, listening intently to the voices within the palace from a corner unnoticed by others.

Eleanor invited many people many different people, many strangers who, by all rights, should never have been familiar with a little Princess. Within her palace, she “interviewed” or perhaps “strove to convince” them in batches sometimes individually, but mostly one-to-many.

The little Princess’s rhetoric with most was: “I want to build Enlin, and you are the talent I need.”

She described different goals to different people: building exquisite devices, planting rare flora, conducting medical research, opening lucrative trade routes…

She spoke to each person in the way that suited them best, narrating the things that interested them most, regardless of their age or status. The Princess seemed to understand everything, and not just superficially. Even those who initially hesitated due to her age or other difficulties found their eyes widening after a few whispered words, as if they had seen a benefactor or soulmate guided by the gods.

Andra didn’t understand most of the technical topics, but she understood Eleanor’s promises to these people.

To a suspicious scholar, Eleanor promised to fund her medical practice in the city and provide protection. Upon seeing craftsmen or farmers, she immediately promised land and housing, saying that as long as they followed her orders, even their children’s employment was guaranteed she would arrange sweet little homes for them in vast plantations.

Andra keenly noticed that Eleanor spoke differently even to those of similar status. She didn’t simply promise money to the poor, status to the rich, or honor and freedom to scholars. She could tell several distressed guests exactly where the things or people they were searching for were located.

She even whispered with an old man who had his eyes closed, using some unheard exchange of interests to convince him to drag his frail body along on the journey. Eleanor could even precisely identify the one person who loved traveling from among several nondescript, wary noble scholars. Then, she “quietly” told her in private that once the situation in Enlin stabilized, she would select suitable candidates to embark on a tour of the country and even the world!

This is too strange, Andra furrowed her thick brows.

The romantic sentiment that had just been born in her was not extinguished, but it drifted into the deeper reaches of her mind along with these splashes of cold water.

When Eleanor hosted her guests, she didn’t avoid anyone. She allowed slaves, attendants, and even the scholars who had just agreed to join her to observe her from a distance or outside the windows, “quietly” overhearing her conversations with others.

She was like a legend—the enlightened sage from a story or a deity descended to the mortal realm, using secrets and ciphers known only to them to gain immediate trust.

Andra gradually realized that the “luggage” Eleanor cared about most wasn’t gold or jewelry, nor even the Praetorian death-guards the King of Nolanna had temporarily granted to protect her, but this group of scholars and strangers of unknown identity. Because the Princess had decided to leave the capital immediately, she was putting forth every ounce of effort to persuade them without any pretense.

Andra waited outside for a long time. When the last guest was escorted to the lodgings by an attendant, her breathing deepened: Not a single person had refused Eleanor’s price!

No matter what expression these people wore when they arrived—happiness, distress, surprise, or numbness they were all injected with a strange hope upon leaving, as if the little Princess’s vitality and courage had flowed into their eyes through her words.

Was this intelligence? No, this was… a miracle!

Andra pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart; she finally understood why she felt uneasy.

This was not the Eleanor she had first met. This was not the “prey” that “Andra” had decided to hunt.

The thought, I want to marry Eleanor, didn’t originate after her feelings blossomed; it had existed from the very beginning.

Since becoming an unfortunate hostage, Andra had been thinking of ways to break the deadlock. Her mother hadn’t chosen Andra to go to Nolanna among the three children because she was mediocre, but because she was too excellent. So excellent that the strong and youthful Aguno had reached a cowardly decision after painful reflection.

Yes, the King in her prime had “readily” shown deep wariness toward her own daughter, a girl of only thirteen or fourteen.

Andra’s gaze turned somber.

When she had brought back prey nearly equal to her mother’s during the hunting season… no, as early as when the chieftains praised her extraordinary martial force and talent one after another, this abandonment became an inevitability. Hetuya had no place for her; Aguno would never allow a young wolf to tear the Alpha’s throat before she grew old.

On the contrary, there was more than one way to survive here in Nolanna. She could hide her talents and make a living in the court, or find an opportunity to manage a business and become Hetuya’s eyes and ears. She could even turn and flee, gaining “freedom” at the cost of abandoning her identity.

None of those paths were good enough, fast enough, or capable of reaping enough benefits immediately they were all too pathetic!

Andra watched the little Princess take a cloth from Coral to wipe her sweat, feeling a sense of resonance: So, we are equally desperate.

Her own desperation came from her inner urge to seize the best, fastest, and most dignified path the gods had given her: marriage to a Princess of similar age who was beautiful and noble enough. So when she first saw Eleanor—no, even before she set foot in Nolanna, knowing they had a Princess of appropriate age this approach became an inevitability.

An ambitious hunter wanted to catch this lovely bird, let her grant the hunter the wings of blessing, and soar to the sky!

Andra clenched her fingers. She saw Eleanor set down the cloth and nod to her.

I love you, Eleanor.

A light only the other could see flickered in her eyes: Andra so loved the girl’s fragile pitiableness. The moment she first saw the sickly little Princess, she had thought of protecting her forever in a magnificent, soft palace, letting this little bird sing for her in comfort.

But the current you is no longer that sickly bird.

No wonder her mother’s gaze toward her was so complex. When she saw the “real” Eleanor or rather, the Eleanor she didn’t truly know—didn’t she also develop a strange emotion?

Panic… Am I in fear, in a panic?

Am I fearing a cute, pitiable girl, the very maiden I intended to make my wife?

Andra almost laughed out loud: How could that be possible?

She was even a bit confused as to why her heart was racing so fast, and why her intuition kept ringing in her ears as if she had encountered some massive threat.

Is it love? It must be love.

The girl, who was very young but not at all childish, was leaving the hall and walking slowly toward her. Andra looked at Eleanor stepping over the threshold and suddenly thought of her own mother.

Her mother the Queen of Hetuya shared many superficial similarities with Eleanor: they both had noble births, elegant speech, and beautiful appearances… but they were two completely different types of humans.

Compared to the other consorts, her mother was considered extremely clever. She could rely on her charm and her family’s influence to completely win over her husband, and she had total control over the servants she grew up with. In terms of management, she was good at using people; at least the family’s flocks and caravans hadn’t suffered significant losses because of her.

Andra had observed since childhood what her mother did in a day. She could guess the hidden purpose behind every one of her mother’s actions, purposes that usually revolved around how to please Aguno, how to deepen the connection between Aguno and her maternal family, and how to seize more benefits.

Of course, her mother also cared for her three daughters. The one her mother was most at ease with was Atilla, because she felt Atilla was simple-minded and Andra’s lips curled into a mocking smile and she was furthest from the throne. Aguno and her mother never guarded against Atilla; they only treated her as a hard-working, useful sheepdog.

As for her second sister, Alissa, she was a complete ghost in the house. She didn’t like being a foil between two outstanding sisters, so she always found excuses to go hunting; it was said she also had contact with the caravan business.

As for herself.

Her mother’s wary and worried gaze flashed by. It wasn’t the look one gave a daughter; it was more like seeing a “defect” that would displease the King. Like a lame stallion no matter how magnificent it was, it was an eyesore to the death.

Andra’s heart ached faintly. They were too short-sighted; they saw her talent but refused to accept it. Her mother was the same. She clearly wanted to eliminate the danger of her daughter usurping the throne, yet she couldn’t part with the last shred of benefit and reputation. She insisted on arrogantly sending her over, hoping Nolanna would deal with her a move full of the stupidity of “clever” people.

Tap, tap.

Eleanor’s soft but distinct footsteps temporarily interrupted Andra’s cold thoughts. She raised her head to look at the approaching little Princess, and for a moment, she could suddenly empathize with a bit of her mother’s thoughts back then.

Is Eleanor dangerous? …Dangerous. If such a clever child were not a Nolannan Princess but a Nolannan Prince, she would likely be even more dangerous than Atilla.

So do I want to kill her?

How could that be? Not in the least.

Andra could feel the thumping of her heart; it was the newly born love of a youth, but also arrogance. She didn’t need to question the meaning of a treasure’s existence like a fool; she only needed to hold the treasure in her hands, offer a kiss, and seal it in her heart.

Andra didn’t wait for Eleanor to reach her. She stepped forward to meet her, intercepting her before the Princess stepped out of the palace gates.

“Andra.” The little Princess’s pale face was flushed with blood from excitement.

她 embraced her passionately, her movements still carrying the afterglow of the banquet and the invitations. The girl leaned against her shoulder and whispered, “You heard just now, right? I want to go to Enlin first. And then to Belai.”

After the embrace, Eleanor let go elegantly and naturally, leaving them face to face. Her eyes drew back slightly, appearing clear and bright. This was a piece of news she hadn’t mentioned to anyone just now the most important name of the country she truly wanted to visit.

She explicitly said she wanted to go to Belai, and she only said it to her. This was an invitation… the most trusting and special of invitations.

A smile couldn’t help but float onto Andra’s face. Her lips moved, and she was about to accept the invitation when a stinging pain like being aimed at by an arrow made her want to look back.

No, the sense of danger wasn’t in front of her, it was… from the direction of the Princess?

Andra’s throat felt dry: for the first time, she doubted if her intuition for danger was wrong. She had just thought Eleanor was “dangerous” as a form of praise for a treasure.

The Princess looked at her with eyes full of hope, and with a single glance, the premonition of danger abruptly vanished. Intense love covered Andra’s eyes, allowing her to calm down again.

It must just be an illusion.

Even thinking so, her cautious nature made her prepare a more stable answer that would be more beneficial to her. For instance, agreeing to hold an important position in Enlin, while as for Belai…

Heh.

The girl’s giggle was tantalizing. The little Princess suddenly grabbed her wrist and stood on tiptoe.

Chu.

Eleanor imprinted a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Andra,” she whispered her name, her figure reflected in her pupils.

“You will protect me forever, won’t you?”

Support