Chapter 5

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 5

Chapter Title: The Princess Who Wants to Die and the Cursed Grand Duke

-----------------------------------------------------------------

She was called Loti, but her real name was probably Roxiana.

Roxiana Evrin Franche.

Once the name came to mind, Floyd recalled their final meeting as well.

It had been a day thick with dark clouds and pouring rain. The fire that broke out in the small palace where Floyd was staying was extinguished by the downpour before it could spread to the others.

Victien IV had insisted he was fine and urged Floyd to stay longer, but Floyd knew it was time to leave.

He had no luggage to pack, no retainers to gather. Just like when he'd arrived at the Eder Palace, empty-handed and alone, he could depart the same way. As he trudged along in the rain, he spotted the princes clustered together with the princess.

"Eek! No!"

"Oh yeah? This frog seems to like you, though."

It looked like they had caught a frog and were teasing the young princess with it. Floyd had many siblings himself, but he'd never shared such affectionate moments with them. The scene struck him as utterly fresh and enviable.

Then, his eyes met those of one of the princes. The prince said something to the princess, who whipped around, stared straight at Floyd, and came toddling over.

"Going home?"

The little princess stopped in front of Floyd, craning her neck back to gaze up at him. Only then did Floyd notice her eyes were green, rimmed with a golden glow.

"Yes, I am."

There was no home to return to, but that wasn't something a child could grasp, so he answered that way. The princess blinked a few times, then said,

"It's raining a lot."

"I'll go anyway."

At his curt reply, she tilted her head slightly to the side before offering him the umbrella she held. She probably meant to hold it over him, but being so small, the umbrella's tip poked his forehead instead.

Floyd was more concerned about the rain starting to soak her hair than his own forehead, but the princess didn't mind and said,

"Take this and go."

"I'm fine."

"Take it. You'll catch a cold if you get wet."

That mention of catching a cold hit Floyd like a blow to the back of his head. No one had ever worried about him catching a cold before.

Stunned by the unexpected kindness, Floyd found the umbrella's handle pressed into his hand. The princess, now drenched, beamed up at him.

"Don't get sick."

With those words, she turned and ran back to her brothers. Floyd couldn't muster a response.

"My lord."

The voice shattered the memory. Kirshan had appeared at Floyd's side without a sound.

"Oh, Kirshan. Care for a drink?"

Kirshan gently pushed away the offered glass and said,

"My lord, there's a report from the harbor. There's a merchant trying to board a ship bound for the Hoban Isles who seems to be a slave trader..."

At the word "slave," Floyd's face twisted in fury.

"These crazy bastards!"

Floyd hurled his glass, but Adrian deftly caught it and set it back on the table. Floyd shot to his feet and strode toward the tower door.

With sea beasts gathering near the coasts, making sea routes treacherous, the waters around Torkan were relatively safe, drawing many traders.

Floyd accepted most merchants, but he strictly forbade slave traders. Still, they snuck in using all sorts of tricks to board ships and head to other countries.

"How big is the operation?"

"Not huge, but they say there's a big catch."

"A big catch? Unbelievable."

Fallen noblewomen fetched high prices. Talented individuals like mages or knights who could wield sword aura were called "big catches" too.

Floyd mounted the horse Kirshan had prepared and galloped toward the harbor.

Upon arriving, Floyd leaped from the still-moving horse and rushed to the waiting soldier. The man bowed in greeting, but Floyd waved him off irritably.

"Where?"

"Already aboard."

The soldier pointed to one of the massive merchant ships docked at the harbor. Sailors bustled on the deck.

"Why didn't you stop them?"

"We checked the crates—only ordinary herbs inside."

"Did you check every single one?"

"We couldn't. Each crate bore the Hoban Isles royal crest and protective spells..."

"Why suspect a slave trader?"

"Jack from the fish shop—he used to be a slave—said he'd seen the man before. He came and went from the count's estate, the one who owned Jack, with slaves in tow."

The suspected slave trader's merchant ship was already preparing to depart. Adrian spoke to Floyd, who glared at it.

"With the Hoban royal crest, we shouldn't touch it rashly. If it's not slaves but royal goods, it could spark an international incident."

Floyd wrinkled his nose.

As Adrian said, if the cargo was legitimate, it could become a diplomatic mess—or even war, depending on its value. But the Hoban Isles thrived on slave trading.

Floyd was certain the crates held slaves.

"Pry them open. All of them."

"My lord, if Hoban makes an issue of this..."

Floyd grinned fiercely. The wind whipped his rust-red hair like flames.

"I'll go apologize in person. Rip them open!"

Roxiana huddled inside the narrow crate.

Before, she'd been in a cage where she could at least move, but they'd stuffed her into this box before entering the Torkan Grand Duchy.

Fearing she might bite her tongue, the slave trader crammed a wad of cloth into her mouth and said,

"The king of Hoban has agreed to buy you for a king's ransom. Better to live as his slave than die, right? He's mad for pretty girls, so seduce him good. Who knows? He might even make you his lover."

The slave trader relished that a former princess of a kingdom had become his merchandise. He'd often drag her from the cage, force her to kneel before his chair, and rest his feet on her back.

"What a funny life. You used to be in my shoes once. Look at you now—you can't even lift your head without my say-so. Impress me, and I'll sell you somewhere nice."

Whether sold to a good place, able to lift her head or not—it didn't matter. Falling from princess to slave, kneeling before some nobody of unclear origins, didn't stir any humiliation in her.

No, it wasn't that she didn't feel humiliated. She felt nothing at all.

Ever since hearing her family's corpses had been dumped in a well, Roxiana's mind had wandered somewhere far away.

Days spent with her family. Carefree, happy days in the Eder Palace. She lingered in those blissful memories, lost in a daze.

So her current state—days without food, crammed hunched in the box—meant nothing to her. Hunger, joint pain, labored breathing from the stale air—they were as if they hadn't happened.

"We're boarding the ship now. Stay quiet. Not that it matters if you thrash—protective magic on the crate means no sound escapes."

She couldn't tell if the slave trader's rant outside was today or yesterday. With her family unresting in that well, her own plight was irrelevant.

Even in long solitude, she spared no thoughts for Lucas or Elise. Not why they'd done it, but the gaping absence of her dear family gnawed at her bones and severed her veins.

Recalling her family tore her heart, yet no tears came. And so Roxiana simply huddled there, a lifeless doll stuffed in the box, breathing quietly.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

"We have permission!"

Suddenly, commotion erupted outside. Sounds of breaking, the slave trader pleading desperately then cursing.

Sea beasts attacking the ship mid-voyage?

If so, Roxiana wished the beasts would kill her and cast her into the sea. Her soul might drift and, by luck, reunite with her family.

Elise might find a fine master and earn an Adelia flower coffin, but Roxiana wanted none of it. With her family denied God's embrace, she couldn't enter peaceful rest alone.

"Found one. Slaves."

A languid voice drew near.

"My lord, slaves in this crate too."

"This one too?!"

"Grab those bastards!"

A rough, heavy voice closed in as well. Not sea beasts, then.

'Torkan is the only place on this continent that bans slave trading.'

The uproar pulled Roxiana briefly from the past to the present.

Highborn ladies focused on dances, embroidery, painting over international affairs, but Roxiana had learned widely with her brothers.

'And Torkan's lord is...'

Floyd Carlott Latan Grand Duke.

The Red Tiger, slayer of magical beasts.

The thought sparked the first faint hope in Roxiana's eyes. A tiny, almost invisible light flickered deep in her green irises.

The next moment—

Krunch!

Someone tore the crate open without hesitation.

Roxiana lifted her bowed head to meet his gaze. A man with ash-gray eyes like storm clouds. Holding the ripped crate fragments, he exuded a tiger's ferocity. Aura poured from his broad shoulders, heating the air into shimmering haze.

Their eyes locked. His furrowed brow smoothed, narrowed eyes widened. He scanned her thoroughly, then said in disbelief,

"What the hell? Why is the princess of Kanta here?"