The Regressed Princess - Chapter 73

Chapter 73: Dance of the Love Goddess — “It Was I Who Lost, Not Love.”

The distinguished guests had arrived, and the music swelled instantly.

The ethereal strings of the lute intertwined with a scattering of drumbeats, converging into a jubilant processional.

Eleanor held Andra’s hand as they stepped together into the brightly lit hall.

Bright? No, the periphery of the palace hall was shrouded in gloom, resembling a murky pond at night. The main body of this hall was located in the lower-middle section of the Royal City, while the spectator stands were constructed from staggered “building blocks” on the upper levels. Rooms of varying sizes encircled the main hall, forming a circular structure similar to a modern grand auditorium or an enclosed arena. The surrounding “private boxes” were hidden in darkness; only every so often did a flicker of lamplight dimly illuminate the path to prevent guests from tripping on their hemlines.

Boom—boom.

The stage in the dead center was fully illuminated by rows of oil lamps. The jewels on the actors’ costumes sparkled with their passionate movements, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colors.

The dancers were the first to appear. Most were exquisitely beautiful slaves chosen through layers of selection; since childhood, their lives had consisted only of training and performing, dedicating their entire youth to nobles and the stage. Their skirts fluttered as they struck graceful poses following the narration from behind the curtain, then drifted off the stage at the cue of the drums, dispersing quietly into the darkness.

An actress playing the Love Goddess hurried past holding a night-luminescent pearl, symbolizing the authority over life. She skipped to the left on tiptoe, then leaned her body to the right. As she ran with the music, she tossed her head back and sang in a delicate voice:

“Oh, my dear sister, why do you pursue me?” “Love—Life is born from love; two drops of blood meet in the river of blood, and two hearts exchange their warmth.” “A brand-new life; Love is the reason for its continuation.”

The Love Goddess, having temporarily stolen the authority from her sister, ran swiftly. However, the night belonged to An, the Goddess of Life and Death. Two rows of black-robed dancers filed out from backstage, chanting in unison:

“Naive—Naive, naive!” “Foolish—Foolish, foolish!” “My cunning and pitiable younger sister, you must stop at once.”

The black-robed dancers scattered, and An, with hair reaching her waist, made a slow, deliberate entrance from the center.

Eleanor and Andra were quietly seated by an attendant. She noticed there weren’t many people in the hall; likely considering that Nolanna and Hetuya were more powerful nations, the King had only allowed high-ranking nobles to remain as company. According to tradition, those of higher status should sit in higher positions.

However, the best viewing seats in this theater were actually in the front-middle rows. Thus, to show respect to the guests, the seats directly in front of and behind Eleanor and Andra were left empty, leaving the entire theater feeling somewhat hollow.

Eleanor looked back at the stage. She hadn’t expected the opening dance alone to be so breathtaking. The dancers must have shed untold amounts of sweat to refine such concise and fluid movements. In her previous lives, she had never appreciated the theater that the Belaians were so proud of, never knowing that the Moon-Mist Continent, so lacking in entertainment, possessed such vivid art. Even if this play struggled to reach the standards of later-era operas due to technical and aesthetic limitations, its casting, vocals, and choreography were the pinnacle of the current age.

“They are performing the Legend of the Love Goddess ha, the special Belaian version.”

Andra’s tone was full of interest. In the darkness, she gently toyed with her lover’s fingers, and suddenly, their ten fingers were interlaced.

Eleanor nodded, focusing her attention on the stage. Every nation had different versions of myths; stories like deities descending to the mortal realm for trials or making wagers naturally had higher popularity and more diverse adaptations. However, their beginnings were usually highly similar. Perhaps because gods truly existed in this world, playwrights didn’t dare to change things haphazardly—at least, no one dared to twist the origins of the story.

The theme of this play was the wager between Lilia, the Goddess of Love, Marriage, and Contracts, and her sister An, the Goddess of Life and Death, Cycle, and Reincarnation, over the authority of “Life.” The Great Mother Goddess bore twelve children and allowed her daughters to exercise her authority on her behalf. In the beginning, the newborn deities were as selfish as newborn children, believing that authority symbolized their Mother’s love, and thus instinctively fought for it.

The world began in chaos. They assisted the Great Mother in shaping the world, creating many races and living with the gods in a dreamlike Golden Age. The gods were harmoniously peaceful before the Mother, but the moment she closed her eyes, they began a primitive and bloody war. The Mother could indeed pull her children from the blood river and reshape them time and again, but the constantly breaking daughters and the shattering world soon caused the Mother to feel “Pain.”

The Mother used her Great Power to forbid her daughters from fighting and killing one another. The Great Power took effect instantly, but the clever deities soon found a loophole. They began to use the world’s myriad things to conduct a new round of divine warfare, even going so far as to create races intended solely for combat.

The earth was slaughtered until the mountains and rivers were broken and the blood pools overflowed, and the sound of countless cries once again woke the Mother. Thus, she established a covenant with the stars, forbidding her daughters from using any violence to contest for power, and redistributed their authorities.

The wager between the Love Goddess and the Death Goddess occurred at the start of the Bronze Age. The Love Goddess used a certain method in the Belaian version, she promised the Sun King a perfect lover and a powerful descendant—to get the King, who was in the underworld, to help her steal An’s authority over life. “Theft” was not included in the Mother’s ban. The Love Goddess obtained the authority as she wished, only to find she could not merge with it.

The Death Goddess pursued her. She used her great strength to stop the Love Goddess’s seizure, but being as wise as she was, she knew that the Love Goddess had already generated a resonance with the life authority. If Lilia refused to let go, An’s authority would become incomplete. Thus, after a fierce argument, the two sisters reached a consensus—they would establish a contract and make a wager!

On stage, An gave a cold laugh.

“Alas, cease your praises of Love to me.” “The love you champion is but one of many desires. The love between humans for a new life cannot even rival that for inanimate objects!”

An’s words greatly incensed Lilia. The Love Goddess responded with intense dance and speech, declaring her absolute belief that love was the most powerful force and the most precious gift creatures could possess. And as the Love Goddess, she was surely the most important deity besides the Mother!

Thus, Lilia unfurled the Divine Covenant, and the two sisters set the wager witnessed by the stars. The Love Goddess had to temporarily discard her peerless divine power and beauty, using only her “soul, the most worthy of love in the world” to attract a true Royal Daughter. If the Love Goddess could obtain the lifelong true love of a Royal Daughter within five hundred years, then An would allow her to take the authority of Life. Otherwise, Lilia would have to completely let go of the Life authority never to covet it again.

Lilia questioned if the wager was too difficult, so they further agreed: as long as the Royal Daughter felt true love for Lilia, every time the affection reached a certain level, the Love Goddess could regain a portion of her divine power. The Love Goddess thought she had found a loophole in the stakes: desire is also love!

Although she could not reveal her identity as a goddess, as long as the Royal Daughter knew her lover could bring endless benefits, then this love would surely grow deeper and purer… and last a lifetime! What link is stronger and more powerful than mutual interest?

She failed to see the mockery in her sister’s eyes and leaped off the stage to be reincarnated.

The scenery flipped rapidly. Gauze curtains mimicking seawater fell across the stage, making a shh-shh sound as the dancers moved them.

Eleanor had read this part of the myth in the Belaian version. She knew that the Love Goddess first turned into a very, very ugly big fish. How ugly was she? So ugly she had no scales. She floated despairingly in the sea for several hundred years before finally encountering a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: using her bloated body to save a Royal Daughter who had fallen into the water.

One could tell at a glance this was a Royal Daughter: she was extraordinarily handsome, her crown had sunk into the sea, yet her wet golden hair was still brilliant. Whether their meeting was aided by Aishe, the Goddess of Hope, or Anara, the Goddess of Reversal, was beside the point.

Lilia was clever; she didn’t directly demand the Royal Daughter’s love, but instead asked to be her friend. The Royal Daughter readily agreed, building a massive pool for the ugly Lilia in her own living quarters. Lilia was a goddess, after all; she possessed vast knowledge and vision, and she used her melodious singing to tell one captivating story after another. The Royal Daughter became obsessed with Lilia’s knowledge, stories, and voice, and thus their affection grew.

Lilia felt the shackles loosen. She couldn’t wait to use that bit of divine power to turn herself into a creature with a human head and a fish’s body. Lilia happily exploited the loophole: she hadn’t relied on her own beauty, had she? Because she had become a mermaid no matter how peerlessly beautiful she was, how could she compare to the Love Goddess?

To accelerate the story, the stage play could not be so slow. The actress playing the Love Goddess was in the mermaid state from the beginning. She naturally saved the Royal Daughter from the sea and then moved into the palace. Facing the beautiful mermaid, the Royal Daughter soon fell. The continuous flow of affection nourished Lilia, allowing her to regain even more miraculous powers.

Lilia began to deliberately guide the Royal Daughter to use her power to obtain more benefits: gold and pearls, loyal subjects, the favor of her mother… The Royal Daughter became more and more inseparable from her—and loved her more and more. Finally, with the mermaid’s help, the Royal Daughter successfully took the throne and became King.

A grand wedding commenced as scheduled. Under the petals of blessing, the beautiful mermaid grew a pair of slender human legs, and the last trace of her fish form vanished completely. The King asked the mermaid:

“My dear wife, you have helped me so much. I am so grateful! Is there anything I can do for you?”

The mermaid the beautiful Queen smiled amidst the flowers. “I want your love. I wish to accompany you for a lifetime.”

Seeing the King’s crystalline tears, Lilia believed she had won.

One year passed, and the Queen took the initiative to share the King’s burdens, selecting the wise ministers she should be close to and the petty men she should distance herself from. Three years passed; no matter where the King went, the Queen followed like a shadow, making every correct decision for her and avoiding dangerous assassinations. Seven years passed… Lilia was stunned to find that the King’s love for her had decayed.

Why was this happening? She was still beautiful, wise, and miraculous! Lilia sifted through everyone with suspicious eyes and finally found proof of the King’s betrayal: the King actually had a lover and a child outside!

She used an arrow that severs love to drive away the lover who had broken the marriage, then locked the King tightly in her room. The caught King swore to the heavens she would only love her alone from then on; otherwise, she would die a violent death and never be reincarnated.

There was no longer enough time for the Love Goddess to switch to someone else, so she reluctantly accepted the King’s apology. The King held her hand and said softly, “If only we had a child.”

Lilia could no longer knead a perfect successor from the blood river, but she still tried her best to find an excellent child to give to the King, naming them the heir to the kingdom. The King said nothing, and Lilia grew weaker as time passed. She watched numbly as she grew back into her former fish tail, returning to the wide pool.

Since then, the King never came to see her again—until one day, an ugly big fish surfaced in the pool, sighing helplessly as she watched the figure pushing open the door. The King approached the pool with a sword in both hands. The ugly fish looked up and shouted to the ceiling:

“I lose I lose!”

A graceful young woman leaped from the water. The long sword came easily into the Love Goddess’s hand, and with a gentle push, it pierced through her lover’s heart. Lilia took the authority over life and held it in her hands.

“Sister, give me her soul.”

An looked at her sister with pity, saying nothing. A wisp of a ghost transformed into a pearl and was tossed toward Lilia, while the pearl symbolizing life authority was released simultaneously, the exchange completed in mid-air.

Lilia tucked the King’s soul into her bosom. An fully merged the life authority and sighed softly: “This is the love you championed?”

The Love Goddess shook her head in rebuttal: “It was I who lost, not Love.” “But you are the Love Goddess.” An cast a mocking glance.

The actress playing the Love Goddess responded with a long, lyrical song: “Oh, all was but a wager.” “How can one expect to trade feigned intent for true feeling?” “What I pursued was not a true lover, but the shadow of victory.” “I do not love her? I do not love her, I do not love her.”

In Lilia’s magnificent pirouette, the actress playing the Death Goddess slightly raised her eyebrows: “Is that so? You do not love her?” “I do not love her.” “Then cast her soul away.”

The Love Goddess stumbled a step in her final turn, and the story came to an abrupt end.

Andra turned her face as the red curtain fell, saying with a smile to her lover, “The Belaian stories are truly interesting. The legend of the Love Goddess on our side isn’t so complicated… Eleanor?”

She softly called her lover’s name.

Eleanor… at some unknown point, was already covered in tears.

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