Chapter 5

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 5

Chapter Title: The Crown I'll Take from You

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Did the princess really just strike the head maid's calf?

It was unbelievable, even with her own eyes witnessing it.

The maids hurriedly bowed their heads, fearing they might get caught in the crossfire, but they were still utterly dumbfounded.

"Ugh..."

A groan escaped the head maid's lips.

She might be a commoner, but she'd been raised delicately, never having soiled her hands with even a drop of water. She'd never experienced violence like this before.

"Jena."

"Y-Yes?!"

Amid everyone's shock, only the princess remained calm.

"Don't mind me and keep going."

"..."

Jena's mind went blank. Was she next after the head maid?

"I said keep going. The punishment can't be lenient. I don't want to overstep into the head maid's domain."

But Jena could no longer swing the whip with the same force as before. Seeing the once-imposing head maid being beaten had filled her with sudden fear.

Crack.

The whip sliced through the air much more weakly than before, and

Whoosh!

the switch danced far more ferociously.

Unlike Jena, Medea showed no hesitation in her actions.

As Jena's swings slowed, glancing nervously between the head maid and the princess, it reached the point where the switch struck three times for every one crack of the whip.

Yet the princess seemed utterly unconcerned by the mismatched sequence.

"Eek..."

Neril's groans grew louder from the lighter whipping, but the princess didn't so much as blink as she continued her work.

"Aaagh!"

In the end, the head maid could endure no longer and collapsed to her knees.

"Head Maid!"

As the maids moved to approach, Medea raised a hand. They hesitated.

"Stand properly."

Her calm voice sent chills down their spines instead. As if the head maid's blood-soaked, swollen calves weren't even visible.

With a chillingly expressionless face, Medea calmly picked up the switch again.

"I'll—!"

At that moment, the head maid dropped to her knees. She could no longer withstand the beating.

Her legs felt like they were on fire. Her reason clouded, driven only by the instinct to escape the pain.

"I... I surrender. Please forgive me."

The head maid had finally submitted.

In front of everyone.

Before the day was out, the entire palace would know. The taste of blood from her bitten lip mingled with the bitter humiliation flooding her mouth.

As she glared murderously, Medea's fingers twitched around the switch once more.

"Y-Your Highness. Please—!"

The words burst out unbidden. Shoulders hunched. Head bowed. Eyes downcast.

There could be no greater humiliation than this.

"..."

Instead of replying, Medea let go of her hand. As if declaring the punishment over, she snapped the switch in two.

Snap. The sharp sound pierced everyone's ears.

The princess's eyes turned to Jena.

"Bring Neril."

"Yes!"

Jena jumped as if burned, tossing the whip aside.

"We're returning to the palace."

"You'll regret this..."

The head maid looked up at Medea with blazing eyes.

"We'll see."

That remained to be seen.

With that quiet murmur, the door closed.

"Go back."

As the Princess Palace came into view, Medea ordered. Jena, who'd been watching her nervously, bowed politely and fled as fast as her legs could carry her.

"...Your Highness, why..."

Regaining her senses, Neril tried to steady her staggering body but couldn't hide her worry.

"Lean on me."

The dignified tone from earlier was gone; this was the young princess she knew.

"The head maid... controls the palace. She'll surely... seek revenge on you. Even now... let me go back and smooth things over... Urk..."

Medea grasped Neril's shoulder. Blood from her soaked clothes stained Medea's hand as well.

"I'm sorry."

A single transparent tear traced down her pale face.

In her previous life, this was how Neril must have died.

Trying to protect her, refusing to leave her side, only to fall victim to their schemes.

Unaware of that, Medea had fallen for the enemies' lies and resented Neril for abandoning her so irresponsibly.

"...Your Highness?"

"It's my fault. Because of me, you..."

Neril was bewildered.

She didn't know the unspoken word in that gap was "died."

"Neril, I'm sorry for not recognizing you, for being so foolish."

She had no way of knowing that Medea's apology carried the regret of a past life.

"Why didn't you fight back? You should have countered at least. What happened to your knight's title?"

Neril could only smile awkwardly.

Medea knew the reason. Neril hadn't wanted to give them any more pretext to drive her from the princess's side.

"Don't do that next time. It would have been better to just give them what they wanted. If you'd agreed to leave my side, they would have let you go quietly."

"...I couldn't... do that. I have to serve Your Highness... Where else... would I go?"

Medea hugged Neril tighter.

Neril, in this vast palace, you were the one who cherished me. Peleus tried to protect me too. Why didn't I know?

Why did I think everyone hated me?

Another tear fell.

As the moisture welled in her emerald eyes and flowed down her translucent skin, a heartrending sorrow pierced the hearts of all who saw.

"This will never happen again. I promise."

"Your Highness, please... stop... the tears..."

Neril didn't know what to do. She failed to notice the resolute tone in the girl's voice.

'My lady.'

The princess had saved her once again.

She would never forget that small, fragile back shielding her.

Neril averted her gaze to hide her reddening eyes and said,

"Still... never do this again. Your Highness could get hurt. I... I can protect myself just fine..."

"That's reassuring, looking like that."

"Your Highness..."

"Come on. You need treatment first."

Neril, oblivious to the fact that the princess hadn't truly answered, felt both grateful and increasingly worried.

'If they dare lay a finger on Her Highness, I'll give everything I have to protect her.'

Baldina's capital, District 2.

At the innermost part of the upscale residential area where high nobles and the wealthy resided, stood a white mansion.

It was a building boasting a delicate yet beautiful aesthetic, with blooming rose vines wrapping around its white stone walls.

But its walls were built so high that even outsiders craning their necks could barely glimpse one or two roses.

With no one coming or going and the owner nowhere to be seen, bold burglars scaled the lofty walls.

Many entered, but none returned.

Rumors spread. The owner of the white mansion was a famous arms dealer traversing the continent, commanding a fearsome mercenary band like limbs of his body.

People nodded then, and no one grew curious about the mansion's interior again.

"Can you believe what I just read?"

On the third floor of the white mansion.

Beneath the window flooded with the most sunlight, Garo waved a parchment.

A knife scar across his refined features lent a wild, fierce aura to his roguish charm.

His curly straw-blond hair and attractively tanned bronze skin suited a sun-scorched beach more than chilly Baldina.

"Boss, fresh news from Baldina's palace. The head maid got switched by the princess. Can you believe it?"

Garo kept peering at the parchment, chuckling nonstop.

"Guess she tried to boot the princess's maid on her own whim. Since the maid was once a disciple of the Royal Guard Captain, the Regent Duke's side must've been wary. Anyway, the princess found out, showed up, and grabbed a switch herself. Cited some ancient palace law, apparently."

"..."

"The head maid's lackey whipped the princess's maid, then the princess whipped the head maid. And the head maid surrendered first, on her knees! Haha!"

Garo laughed so hard his chair toppled backward.

A young man looking down at a continental map lifted his head.

Jet-black hair like midnight, a straight nose. Deep eyes gleaming with cold intensity.

His gaze was so clear and pure it allowed not a speck of dust, unbefitting a mere youth.

Yet his well-built muscular frame for a boy and the arrogant eyes overlooking the world held a strangely sensual allure.

The man's softly upturned lips and sharp jawline were as exquisitely sculpted as if crafted by a master artisan.

"Was there a princess in Baldina?"

One corner of the man's eye arched faintly.