The Regressed Princess - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: First Sight is also a Reunion

“Whether it was the happiness or the pain of my past life…”

Andra bowed her head, a few playful petals fluttering from her hair. They drifted slowly onto the azure stone tiles, creating invisible ripples.

“Phew.”

Eleanor couldn’t help but hold her breath. As her young lover came into view again, the images in her memory pierced through decades of time, overlapping softly before her eyes.

She blinked, focusing her attention on the top of Andra’s head. A line of golden text slowly emerged.

Andra

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief: her superpower to see through the true names and potential of others had not vanished. Moreover, she now possessed an even more mysterious ability. She touched the pendant on her chest; the multi-layered marigold of her past life had truly transformed into the six-petaled flower from her dream.

Since she had successfully returned to the past, the Goddess’s promise in the dream must be real: six lives, and within each life, six opportunities to backtrack six days in time.

Phew… keep going.

Eleanor silently encouraged herself: In this life, I will absolutely not repeat the same mistakes.

The petite princess let go of the pendant and poked her head out from behind her sister. She looked deeply at Andra, her gaze like that of a lover offering flowers at a grave, tucking all her lingering attachments into the depths of her heart with this single look.

Whether it was the happiness or the pain of my past life, it all bore your name.

Andra.

In this life, let us end things at the place where they began.

The little princess lowered her eyes and said timidly to the girl kneeling on the ground: “You don’t have to do this. I… I actually don’t need that many personal guards.”

“Hmm?” Andra and Marcella looked up at the same time. Andra’s sharp gaze forced people to want to retreat; her golden eyes seemed to burn with an eerie fire.

This is bad!

Eleanor suddenly recalled more details. The reason she had asked her mother for Andra back then besides being enamored by the hostage’s golden name and handsome face was that Andra was being bullied by Marcella at the time!

The Eleanor of her past life was familiar with the trope of a villain bullying someone only to be slapped in the face by the protagonist, so she naturally wouldn’t let her third sister court death like that… Wait, did Marcella’s death really have nothing to do with Andra?

Eleanor thought for a few seconds but found no suspicious points. Marcella had died on the battlefield, and in her previous life, Andra had loved Eleanor deeply; it was unlikely she would risk sabotaging her lover’s sister of the same blood.

She buried the tiny doubt in her heart and began to weigh the current situation: “Yesterday’s” me had announced in front of everyone that I wanted Andra as my guard. If I stand by my sister today and tell her to go back… she will definitely hold a grudge!

Even if we can’t be lovers, we can’t be enemies.

Eleanor steeled herself and leaned half her body out from behind her sister.

“That… I don’t mean you should just go back. You’ll still be my personal guard, but you can go to the specialized training grounds and live with Manju and the others. However…”

The little princess shrunk back behind her sister shyly, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz: “I’m not used to being surrounded by too many people. I’m sorry.”

That should be fine, right?

Eleanor peeked with her peripheral vision; Andra’s expression had indeed softened significantly. The girl on the ground rose naturally. Even though the little princess hadn’t accepted her fealty, she bowed in mid-air—performing a gesture of the “kissing-touch” rite.

“Then please allow me to take my leave, Princess Eleanor.” Andra blinked, her golden irises seeming to shimmer. After receiving a nod of approval, she turned and walked toward the courtyard with a dashing stride.

The girl’s departure was clean and crisp, her posture like a straight young pine tree. No one present could react in time.

It took several seconds for Marcella to stomp her foot with an “Awooo,” saying dissatisfiedly, “What is she so arrogant about? A mere hostage, a person no better than a slave…”

She thought for a moment and nudged her sister’s shoulder. “Hey, find a chance to call her out so I can give her a good thrashing.”

You really aren’t afraid of dying… Eleanor gave her sister a speechless roll of the eyes. Although Andra was indeed petty, this behavior was truly dancing on a death line; any normal person would seek revenge.

Marcella stuck out her tongue and made a face, looking innocent. She clearly didn’t think she was being excessive; she just saw it as a fun game.

Her sister’s personality wouldn’t change overnight. It seemed the only way was to try and keep her from provoking Andra.

Eleanor sighed in her heart, stood on her tiptoes, and whispered in her sister’s ear, “Alright, alright. I want to go fishing in a few days. You better keep up with your lessons lately, Sister. If the tutor keeps you after class, who’s going to take me out to play?”

With her sister’s soft words in her ear, Marcella’s emerald eyes rounded like a cat’s. She patted her chest and agreed immediately: “Fine, I’ll be a bit better in front of them these next few days so they don’t pick on me. Oh crap, I forgot I have class!”

Marcella wailed, bolted out of the garden like a flash, and disappeared with a shout amidst the laughter of the attendants.

“Sigh…” Eleanor pursed her lips, her smile bitter.

With a personality like that, how could her sister not get into trouble? In her past life, who knows how many enemies she provoked… why didn’t I care back then?

Eleanor dazedly raised her hand to rub her forehead. Right—she had suffered from severe headaches as a child. Before the age of ten, she had been in a daze and didn’t want to speak. She couldn’t study or exercise and loved lying in bed all day. In her past life, the headaches had cured themselves after she turned ten.

But she had met Andra on her tenth birthday. How could she have had any spare heart to care about anyone else?

Eleanor wiped away a tear that suddenly leaked out. She turned and tugged on the long sleeve of her noble attendant, saying softly, “Coral, help me get some paper and a pen. I want to draw.”

“Alright~” Coral touched the little princess’s forehead and instructed a nearby servant: “Go get some papyrus for the Princess!”

Eleanor shook her head repeatedly. “No, not papyrus. I want parchment, sewn into a notebook… and the ink needs to be the good kind, the one with mineral powder added.”

“Pff, my little princess~” Coral leaned over. If she were facing any of the other princesses, she would have to give them a piece of her mind. The parchment used by the royal family was made from high-quality lambskin; the cost of making one notebook was nearly 10 gold coins!

But since it was the little princess’s request, she just rubbed her cheek and said dotingly, “Fine, fine, fine. I’ll have them go to the library and get it right now.”

“Hehe, thank you, Sister~” Eleanor instinctively hugged Coral’s arm and shook it. Only after the other had left did she look at her own hands with a start of realization.

Coral was still alive. Her clever, loyal, and brave Sister Coral was still alive.

Someone like Coral was not a slave; she was usually the second daughter of a noble family, coming to live alongside higher-ranking nobles or royal children from a young age to grow up together. In her past life, at her most dangerous moment, Coral could have easily jumped to a different branch or simply packed her bags and gone home.

But she hadn’t. And so, in the end…

“Princess Eleanor.” “Highness Eleanor.”

Two calls, one formal and one gentle. Coral had just left when the twins, Thorn and Manju, drifted in from under the porch. Although they were twins, their eyes, hair, and even skin tone were slightly different. Thorn had darker skin, with ash-white hair and blood-red eyes like her mother, while Manju.

Eleanor looked at Manju walking toward her and froze for a moment. The girl approaching had a bright smile, showing none of the gloom of her later years. Her light red, purplish eyes were like violets in full bloom. More importantly…

Manju’s beautiful golden-red hair had not yet been dyed ash-white to mourn Thorn.

Was it really to mourn Thorn that she dyed her hair?

Thinking of Andra’s brilliant golden-red hair, Eleanor felt a little afraid to look at Manju.

“Highness Eleanor?” Manju called the princess’s name affectionately, pulling a crude kite out from behind her back. The frame was made of finely shaved wood, and the fabric was hemp. The kite was a bit ugly, clearly handmade by the two sisters; if they had asked an attendant to do it, the hemp wouldn’t have been sewn like a ragged patch.

This was…

As soon as Eleanor held the kite, she remembered. In her past life, she had taken Andra and the twins to fly kites. Later, the three of them played too wildly and ran too fast, tumbling down a hillside and crawling back with injuries. Of course, they still returned to the palace laughing and talking with Eleanor.

Wait, something feels wrong. Had they secretly fought?

Eleanor sensed something strange: had Andra, Manju, and Thorn really been friends in her past life? she had never considered this before. After all, as a princess, she was naturally the moon in the group; why would she care how the stars got along with each other?

Eleanor held the kite and thought for a while. Since everyone went to fly kites and ended up “injured” in her past life, she wouldn’t go this time.

She hugged the kite to her chest and gave Manju a sweet smile. “Alright, I want to keep this kite you made by hand. I’m going inside to write in my diary; you two guard the outside and don’t let anyone in.”

Seeing the little princess’s cute smile, Manju couldn’t help but smile too. She quickly pursed her lips seriously, struck her chest with her fist, and said: “Yes, Highness Eleanor.” She then turned to catch up with her sister, the two of them guarding the bedroom door on either side.

Meanwhile, Coral returned with the parchment book from the servants, personally spreading the notebook made of sewn calfskin onto the table. Once the ink was mixed, all the servants, including Coral, stepped lightly into the corners, leaving the little princess to enjoy her “diary” time alone.

They all knew the Princess had suffered from severe headaches since birth and barely knew a few words. Her so-called “diary” was just fantastical drawings using symbols she had created herself.

Eleanor gave the kite to Coral, telling her to store it safely in her private treasury. Then she sat at the table and took a light breath.

Finally, I can organize the memories of my past life!

She opened the cover and drew a long line segment on the first page of parchment, circling a zero on the left side.

Year 0.

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