The Princess Wants to Live - Chapter 12

Chapter 12 | Isn’t That Strange?

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Olivia only ever knew Cryer as an untouchable, bloodthirsty monster who started and ended the Continental War with his own two hands, even killing her four times in four lifetimes.

But after walking side by side with him and even meeting him directly…..

[Cryer] ‘I’m a slave. I have to do as I’m told.’

Olivia grabbed Cryer’s arm without realizing it.

And just like anytime she would hit his arm with all her might, he barely felt it, but the warmth of her touch was just as clear as it always was….

But then, just as he was looking at Olivia’s pale hands, so white he could see the blue of her veins beneath her skin, he felt a sudden sharp pain cut across his chest.

Though, even that pain was fleeting. If he had felt it anywhere else on his body, he would have disregarded it and moved on, but the pain was on his chest of all places. The place where he had been branded with the seal of the ancient god.

As if she noticed him acting strangely, Olivia’s voice perked up, and rather than his chest, her words made him touch his own mouth of all places.

[Olivia] “So what is it? What’s the condition?”

[Cryer] “Did I….say something?”

[Olivia] “What? No, you never told me. What are the conditions of your contract? You need to hurry and tell me.”

Cryer glanced down at Olivia, and her eyes were shining, like she was totally, super ready to listen at any time.

And then she did it again! Like she could read his thoughts once more, Olivia chirped again.

[Olivia] “You’re wondering how I knew what you were thinking? Well, I knew by looking at your face. Actually no, maybe your face and your eyes? Or maybe the atmosphere around you?”

As Olivia mumbled almost to herself, she tilted her head, lost in her thoughts like she was trying to confirm her conclusion to herself.

Looking at her like this, a curious and strange expression spread across Cryer’s face.

He wondered, was there anyone around him who had ever read his mind so well? He couldn’t even remember his own past properly, so even if there were, he would not be able to put a name to them.

But if he were only counting his life after his revival, then Olivia was the only one. That he could certainly say. That was probably because not many people looked him in the eye, only ever that wizened old mage and his daughter, the ones who had pulled him from the dead.

Come to think of it, that woman was the same.

Greta would also often chatter on as though she could read his thoughts.

[Olivia] “What is it? Is something else on your mind?”

Unseen like a ghost, Olivia came close to him, standing on her tippy toes.

[Olivia] “Tell me about before. About what made you feel so uncomfortable.”

Olivia had such a determined look in her eye that it looked as though she would open his mouth and look inside his mind herself if he didn’t say anything back.

[Cryer] “My brand suddenly burned.”

[Olivia] “What!?”

The ever skittish Olivia shouted out impulsively. Without thinking about it, she raised her hand to touch his chest, but she froze hearing the low rumble of his voice.

[Cryer] “After you grabbed my arm tightly.”

Batting her eyelashes as she blinked rapidly, Olivia pulled her hand away, taking a step back. Her rounded shoulders sagged just a touch, her head tilting to peer up at him.

[Olivia] “Is it because of me?”

[Cryer] “Well, I don’t know. I can’t say for certain either way.”

His answer was calm and casual, but it was enough to make Olivia straighten out her shoulders. She seemed convinced of his words, but she didn’t try to reach out again.

[Olivia] “That’s true. Does it still hurt?”

Olivia stood back, keeping her hands pinned behind her back, as if to physically keep her hands from moving unconsciously. Seeing that, Cryer smiled and lightly tapped her smooth forehead.

[Cryer] “It doesn’t hurt. Anyway, it would seem the congress ended well. The death of King Nordian was treated like an accident.”

His way of changing the subject was quick and jarring, but Olivia quietly accepted it. She was tired, and had no intention of prying into words Cryer didn’t wish to say.

[Olivia] “The congress ended well…..”

Olivia narrowed her eyes, squinting as she stared up at Cryer with her words trailing off.

[Cryer] “Oh, I meant that I ended up at the Imperial Palace like you wanted……”

Once Cryer nodded, Olivia just nodded with him.

[Olivia] “Yes. Though His Majesty was a little upset at the news that the Imperial Princess had a lover, as well as the rumors circulating that she may have a husband soon.”

But obviously he didn’t trust in any rumors about her. He’d even called her in after the congress’ end and said something very specific to her.

[Emperor] ‘I will trust you.’

Those words were no lie. He definitely trusted her. This little disciplinary action was just her punishment for not handling things as neatly as she should have.

[Cryer] “A lover.” ⁽¹⁾

Looking down at Olivia, walking next to him, she looked so small and fragile—tiny enough that he could take her in his hand and probably fit her in his pocket. It was very easy for him to forget that she was an Imperial Princess.

Well, considering how she never acted the part of a princess in front of him, obviously that little detail would slip his mind sometimes.

Walking along a street path where few traveled, Olivia chirped again.

[Olivia] “I didn’t say anything before, but you also changed your look…….Is it a transformation or a disguise? Either way, you seem very used to it.”

She wasn’t sure how he did it, but Cryer looked just as incognito in his disguise as she did. No, transformation was definitely a better word to describe what he was doing.

His silver hair and dark red eyes that were always narrowed in a crescent moon shape were now hidden by blackened and abyssal hair. Even his clothes looked so normal, they appeared almost shabby by comparison.

And not only that, but even the cold and scary atmosphere that seemed to encircle his entire body had faded. He was the type who was easy to spot in a crowd, but now, he appeared as just a normal and slightly tall man.

[Cryer] “No one knows who I am, but I know I stand out. And….”

[Olivia] “And?”

Just as Cryer’s body came to a stop, Olivia ceased her footsteps as she followed behind him.

[Cryer] “I think we’re here.”

[Olivia] “Here?”

Olivia looked up at Cryer, following his gaze to an affixed point, but all she saw were a thick bundle of brambles and bushes.

Wasn’t such a sight common within the capital?

But the confusion in Olivia’s mind faded, her blue eyes chilling as Cryer’s next words filled the empty air.

[Cryer] “I smell blood.”

_{^{the translating mech}}

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This occurred right around the time when Olivia was tugging at Cryer’s sleeve.

The royal palace of the Kingdom of Nordian was preparing for a funeral following the sudden death of their king.

[—] “That’s not right!”

[—] “It will take us at least a month to prepare the tapestries….”

[—] “There’s no time for that! Tell them to have them done in ten days or find someone else!”

The bulk of this fiery mess shouldn’t have fallen on the feets of these poor palace workers, but much like walking the coals, one must run rather than walk. This was an unexpected death, and no such preparations were made ahead of schedule.

But what could they do when the Crown Prince ordered it?

[Prince] ‘Prepare the funeral as soon as possible.’

How could they dare disobey such an order?

The Crown Prince’s position was firmly secured in place, and with no one else competing or challenging claim to the throne, the likelihood of his ascension was looming.

The palace workers were all so busy that they didn’t have time to partake in the dining hall for their meal, so they gathered around in the hallway where they worked, eating their noontime lunch.

Working without breaks was tiring, their eyes becoming heavy and their mouths turning dry, but they couldn’t continue working without food. One of the workers tore off a piece of his bread, tossing it into his soup.

[—] “I wish I could sleep like the dead.”

The other workers nodded helplessly, quietly eating their bread.

Another worker, dazed with out of focus eyes, remembered the prince who had made the order for the funeral. His eyes turned towards the orange carrot he was poking at with his fork, and with thoughts of the prince came thoughts of the gorgeous beauty standing behind him—Greta.

[—] “Her hair……is this color orange.”

The worker muttered so quietly that none could hear him but himself, but then he quickly shook his head.

He forgot about it since things were so busy, but that woman was a little strange. At some point, she and that man had become closer to the king and prince’s side than even their closest aides.

No one knew who they were, where they came from, or how they came to be here.

The nobles didn’t seem to think it was strange at all, feeling no discomfort with her presence, but the workers felt that discomfort acutely. After all, that little magic trick of theirs only affected the nobles, but seemed to bypass the workers entirely.

The worker spoke, still poking at the carrot with his fork.

[—] “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

The other workers slowed their eating one by one at his comment.

[—] “What is?”

[—] “What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

[—] “What’s going on?”

But before the worker could even begin explaining himself, he fell into silence. He wasn’t sure what to call that old and wizened mage.

He held no title like Duke or Marquis, nor was he ever given any kind of special designation. Moreover, it was never necessary to call out the mage on his own since he was always by the king’s side, and never needed finding.

Searching for the word to call the mage, the worker opened his mouth again.

[—] “We…..haven’t seen him since His Majesty died, have we?”

Though he did not refer specifically to the mage, the other workers nodded. That was more evidence as to just how common of a sight it was to see the mage by the king’s side.

[—] “You’re right. I haven’t seen him.”

[—] “Now that you mention, that’s true. Now, the one who’s always there is…….”

Before he could even finish his words, a dark and intrusive shadow loomed over them.

[Greta] “You must be having a very interesting conversation.”

[—] “Oh, it’s not that interesting. It’s just that after His Majesty died, we haven’t seen that man around and…….”

The worker who brought that up quickly quieted.

The reason for that was because, when he turned his head up, what he was greeted with was that orange hair, swaying above. The workers turned pale, nearly throwing their food to the side as they jumped to their feet.

And as usual, this strange woman was not alone.

[Prince] “Greta.”

At the voice of the prince, Greta slightly bowed her head, her eyes honing in on the workers. Her gaze was as sharp as the scale of a snake, and the workers instinctively went to hold their necks as they bowed their heads.

[Greta] “They were speaking of something odd.”

Even as she said that, she did not frown or raise her voice.

Gulp—

The workers swallowed harshly in unison.

Taking in the sight of the workers, down to every last one of them, a moment of silence passed before Greta finally spoke again.

[Greta] “The audacity to speak of one who once served within this palace.”

Audacity, she said. However, the mage never truly belonged to the palace retinue, so if one were to speak in technicalities, they were not really speaking of one who served within the palace.

And besides, they were not cursing him or badmouthing him. It was merely an innocent little chat between workers sharing a meal in the middle of this empty hallway.

However, not a single one of these workers could point this out to Greta, who held the prince firmly within her grasp as he looked down at them without blinking even once.

Getting closer to him, Greta whispered in his ear.

[Greta] “When one speaks ill of you, you must have them pay the price.”

It was a quiet whisper, but loud enough for the prince to hear.

[Greta] “Wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?”

At Greta’s whisper, the prince looked straight down at the workers with coldly clear eyes.

[Prince] “When one speaks ill of me, I must have them pay the price.”

And as their eyes began to tear, that was when the prince passed his judgment.

[Prince] “Kill them all.”

An order given so swiftly, one could easily mistake it for a request to rid the room of trash.

And before anyone could even see it coming, the knights surrounding the workers took their unsheathed blades, swinging them down in an arch, cleaving the workers before they even had the chance to beg for mercy.

Looking down at her shoes, bloodied from the last fallen worker, Greta only smiled at the knowledge that the last of them were dead.

The prince stood still with Greta’s whispers still in his ear, his eyes wide open amidst that bloodied hallway.

[Greta] “Send a messenger to the Empire.”

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^{T/N: (1) The word here is closer to ‘a male concubine’, but that’s such a mouthful and English doesn’t have a specific enough term for that, so I shortened it to lover.}