Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 35

Morning arrived. Miesa, deeply asleep, was awakened by Gella’s voice.

“Young madam, aren’t you hungry? The sun is already up.”

Miesa instinctively closed her mouth as she tried to answer out loud, and then she rolled over.

“Oh, were you unwell last night? Why are there wet towels everywhere…? Oh!”

Behind her, Gella’s startled voice came through. As she rolled over, her legs were exposed, and she felt hurried hands covering her with the blanket.

“Oh my, I can’t…”

Gella’s murmurs were followed by Pointy’s voice.

“Seems like the two of you are getting along well. That’s good.”

“Uh, well… yes.”

Miesa wished both Gella and Pointy would leave. She buried her face in the pillow and tightly shut her eyes.

“Are you going to go out with the young master and young madam again today?”

“I guess the young master would know,” Giella replied coldly.

“The princess seems to enjoy going out. Her complexion looks much better, doesn’t it?”

“Why do you keep calling her princess? She’s the young madam.”

“Well, she seems tired, so let’s let her rest. We should leave.”

Miesa heard them leaving and buried her flushed face deeper into the blanket. Gella’s worried voice lingered.

“Young madam, are you alright?”

Miesa wished Gella would stop talking, knowing she couldn’t respond.

“Oh, poor thing…”

Miesa waited for Gella to give up and leave.

“Where?”

“To a pawnshop. It looked like she was stuffing something into her pocket, but it was too small to identify clearly.”

Two knights, assigned to tail the royal maid Maleca, were reporting to Eirik.

“And then?”

“We split up to keep watch. I stayed in front of the pawnshop, and my companion confirmed that Mrs. Maleca returned directly to the mansion. Did you receive the report from the butler?”

Eirik nodded.

“It was quiet until dusk when a hired carriage arrived, and an old woman entered the pawnshop. She had a bit of a scuffle over selling a brooch. We decided to follow her.”

“Is this the address where the old woman lives?”

The knight handed over a slip of paper. It was a familiar address somewhere in the suburbs.

A connection point between the maids, the Crispins, an old woman, and my father’s mistress.

“I just need to confirm the connection,” Eirik muttered to himself with a sigh.

At noon, Eirik returned to the mansion for lunch. Miesa pretended to be asleep in bed. Gella, who had been sitting by her side reading, stood up to greet him.

“Well done.”

Gella, unable to meet Eirik’s eyes, hesitated before asking, “Young master, are you planning to take the young madam out again today?”

“Why do you ask?”

“The royal maids earlier…”

Gella lowered her voice and recounted the earlier events.

Eirik let out a small laugh. “Their scheme is too obvious. It feels like a trap, but we should still act interested.”

He walked over and retrieved two small daggers attached to leather straps from the safe, handing them to Gella.

“What are these?”

“Cullen will show you how to use them.”

“Understood. I will prepare then.”

Gella left the room with the daggers, and as soon as the door closed, Miesa sat up abruptly and complained.

“I need to talk to Gella.”

“About what?”

Miesa blushed and started to say something, then paused.

“I’m hungry.”

She seemed to be trying to change the subject, but he didn’t ask further because she seemed embarrassed.

After lunch, the two prepared for another outing, just like the day before. The only difference was,

“Please wear this, just in case.”

Eirik brought a thin leather armor from somewhere and explained, “I’ll be right by your side, and Cullen’s brothers will be following, but I feel better knowing you’re wearing this.”

Miesa, usually compliant in such matters, agreed. External dangers were beyond her control.

“Will this protect me from knives? What about whips? Axes?”

“…Let’s not imagine such grim scenarios. Whips depend on whether they have barbs. This will provide some protection against knives, but axes are dangerous,” Eirik answered her questions earnestly, despite his furrowed brow.

Satisfied, Miesa wore the armor under her gray cotton dress. Then she handed him something.

“This, you have to do.”

“What is it?”

A flower-shaped bib. She’d worn it before, but now she insisted he wear it.

“You tie it around my neck like a necklace and fasten it with a ribbon at the back.”

“A ribbon… Should we call Gella? But I suppose even Gella might not know how to…”

“Gella knows. She learned from the maids.”

Clumsily, Eirik tied the ribbon with his calloused fingers. Somehow, if someone like Gella could do it, he should be able to pull it off convincingly.

“It’s done. Is the armor uncomfortable?”

“It’s fine.”

Throughout their conversation, Miesa avoided meeting his eyes. On the other hand, Eirik coughed and turned his head away.

Last night’s events weighed heavily on both their minds, evident in their shared awkwardness.

The two, along with Gella, boarded the carriage under Margravine Cladnier’s watchful eye. The coachman, already aware of their destination, set off without a word.

Pretending to sleep, Miesa clung to Eirik, listening to the sounds outside. He, too, wore armor under his light summer clothes, evident from the hard surfaces she felt.

A heavy silence filled the carriage. Eirik and Gella each watched their respective windows, but nothing happened, even as the carriage stopped in front of the square.

As Gella prepared to step out, Eirik asked, “What did you do last time?”

“I looked at some herbs and visited a bookstore.”

“Do the same today. Cullen will follow you.”

Gella answered politely and left the carriage. Alone with Eirik, Miesa sat up and smoothed her tousled hair. Eirik helped her and briefly explained the situation.

“The chance of an attack on a moving carriage is low. Even if something happens, you have two protectors, including myself, and four more knights following us.”

“Two?”

“You haven’t seen the coachman’s face, have you? Anyway, I hope this precaution is unnecessary.”

He was right. Throughout their long ride, nothing happened.

However, when Gella returned to the square, her appearance had changed significantly from three hours ago.

“Is there hazard pay?” Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were torn in places, and the faint smell of blood lingered in the air. Although it seemed like she had tried to wash it off, there were still bloodstains on her clothes.

“Are you hurt?” Eirik asked.

“The worst injury is to my pride, thanks to Sir Cullen Emmanes,” Gella replied.

Though Cullen and Vallek are sons of the Emmanes family, they disliked being called by their family name because it sounded like a vulgar word in the Sidate language. Today, however, Gella pronounced it with unusual emphasis.

“So, what happened?” Eirik asked.

Gella explained that she had been browsing herbs and buying pastries just like the day before, then headed to the bookstore. A clumsy pickpocket had stolen her money pouch, leading her into a dark alley. It felt like a staged setup, but she had walked along, pretending to be unaware.

Four men were waiting for her, with rotting teeth and foul-smelling smiles. Gella waved a hand dismissively.

“You don’t have to describe the smell.”

“Right. Anyway, they were talking about kidnapping me, not just robbing me. When they tried to cover my head with a bag, I lost my temper,” Gella said.

Pausing briefly, she continued in a defensive tone, “I should have gone along to find out more, but I couldn’t hold back…”

“No need for that. If you can find out on the spot, why wait?” Eirik replied.

“Exactly. I know exactly where and how to stab and slice to be most effective.” Gella’s voice grew louder, feeling validated by Eirik’s words.

She resumed her explanation. The men, underestimating her because she was a young and pretty woman, were thrown against walls one by one, their heads smashing, and faces mangled.

“But there were four of them, right? For some reason, there was no ambush from behind while I was dealing with each one.”

Gella waved her hands as if exasperated.

“When I finally looked back, Sir Cullen was there, carefully adjusting his speed and pushing each guy right towards me. I was just so shocked…”

“I see.”

“When I grabbed the third guy by the collar, my thigh suddenly felt warm. I didn’t have time to check what had stabbed me, so I just crushed him with a nearby cart. Then Sir Cullen said…”

Gella was genuinely angry at Cullen.

“He said, ‘Seventeen… no, sixteen.’ I thought he meant I could handle that many, but the number kept going down!”

Eirik, familiar with Cullen, nodded. “He probably meant you were as skilled as his brother at sixteen. As offensive as it was, but that’s a high compliment from him.”