Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 4

The next morning, Eirik woke up in the unfamiliar room of the temple and realized he had fallen asleep without intending to. The first thing he did was check his side. However, no one was there.

He quickly sat up and scanned the bridal chamber until his gaze landed on the princess. She was near the table, chewing on something.

“Princess!”

He cursed himself for not cleaning up the broken glass. Rushing to her side, he saw, to his relief, that she was a safe distance from the glass shards, chewing on the nightgown he had discarded the night before.

“That’s not food. Are you hungry?”

Eirik tried to take the nightgown from her, but she resisted, flailing her arms. Afraid she might reach for the glass shards, he picked her up. She was so light that he could support her with one hand while wrapping her frail legs around him to secure her position.

Holding her, he used his free hand to rummage through the tray of food from the previous night. He found a dried fig, now wilted.

“Would you like this?” he asked.

Despite offering several items, the princess stubbornly kept the nightgown in her mouth. Eirik finally buttered a piece of biscuit and offered it to her.

“How about this?”

The princess reluctantly spit out the nightgown and cautiously took the biscuit from him. Seizing the moment, Eirik quickly took the nightgown away and tossed it aside. As she nibbled on the biscuit, he wiped the crumbs from her lips.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Did you call, sir?”

The princess, seemingly pleased with the biscuit, settled comfortably in Eirik’s arms. He called out to the maid.

“The evidence is on the nightstand. The princess seems hungry, so please prepare some food immediately.”

The maids entered, surprised at the sight of the two of them but quickly busied themselves with their tasks. A priest waiting outside the door peeked in curiously.

Mrs. Maleca collected the sheet with the evidence of consummation from the nightstand and handed it to the priest, confirming the ceremony’s completion. Only then did Eirik allow himself to relax a bit.

***

The maids took the princess away to bathe her, and after a long while, they returned, stating that she had finished eating as well. Eirik, unsure of what or how much they had fed her, also had a simple meal of fruit before heading back to the Cladnier mansion in the capital.

“…I see.”

The Margrave and Margravine of Cladnier, waiting stiffly at the mansion’s entrance, greeted them with stern faces. Their expressions showed no sign of warmth as they looked over their son, the princess, and the two maids assigned by the palace.

“Rest for now; you must be tired.”

Leaving only those brief words, the Margrave and Margravine turned away. Eirik, as usual, made no comment and started to head up to his room when he noticed something.

“Ah, Princess. Please don’t touch that.”

The princess was trying to climb onto the statue of a white bear, the family symbol, which decorated the main entrance. Eirik, now accustomed to such unexpected behavior, walked over and gently lifted her up.

“The princess…,” he said, then corrected himself as he turned to the palace maids, conscious of the title. “My wife will be in my care. Go and rest after unpacking.”

Though the maids were officially attendants to the princess, Eirik knew they were the king’s eyes and ears. He could feel their watchful eyes on his back as he carried the princess into the mansion.

The somber expressions of the household staff greeted them inside. They looked on silently at Eirik and the princess in his arms. It seemed they had already heard about her condition and were not overly shocked. Eirik addressed them briefly.

“The Princess is now part of the Cladnier family. Address her as ‘Young Madam.’ She is unwell, so take special care when attending to her.”

Leaving those instructions, he ascended the stairs to his room.

Upon reaching his room in the west wing, which had now been converted into the couple’s bedroom, Eirik felt as if he had passed one significant hurdle.

He looked down at the princess, who had fallen asleep in his arms, breathing softly with her small mouth slightly open. Carefully, he removed her shoes and laid her on the bed, checking her condition once more.

Her temperature was normal, and her lips were not dry. After gently touching her forehead, hands, feet, and face in turn, he let out a small sigh of relief. The princess seemed to be in better condition than the day before.

A new duty had been added to his already heavy load: caring for this frail woman.

Leading the knights, honoring his family, guarding the borders, and looking after the welfare of the serfs—so many responsibilities already weighed heavily on his shoulders. And now, his newlywed wife added to the burden.

Despite the daunting task ahead, he saw it as just another duty to fulfill. With a quiet sigh, he carefully covered the princess with a blanket and stepped back from the bed.

The bedroom that now housed the princess had undergone significant changes. The walk-in closet had been converted into a makeshift study, containing only a desk and a safe. For safety reasons, the doors had been removed, allowing a clear view of the bedroom from the desk.

Eirik, ensuring the princess was resting comfortably, opened the safe and took out some documents. He began reviewing the list of wedding gifts from various noble families, his gaze lingering on his former betrothed’s family, the House of Crispin.

Knock, knock.

The sound interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, he saw one of the princess’s maids at the door.

“It’s time for the princess to use the bathroom.”

Though the bedroom was a bit removed from the bathroom, Eirik made sure to securely put away any sensitive documents before allowing the maid to enter. The sturdy-looking maid who entered was familiar with the routine.

“She needs to follow a strict schedule.”

Mrs. Dialle, the maid, gently woke the princess and escorted her to the bathroom. Eirik observed their routine in silence.

After some time, the princess returned, supported by Mrs. Dialle. Her unsteady steps indicated she was still weak. Glancing outside, Eirik noticed the sun was already past its peak.

“It’s past lunchtime. You, fetch some food,” he instructed a servant standing by the door.

Soon, a meal was laid out on the table. The princess, seated in a chair, began to curiously inspect the food, sniffing and touching everything.

“I’ll attend to my wife’s meal. You can go rest now,” Eirik said, uncomfortable with the maid hovering over the princess like a watchful guard.

Though he spoke kindly, Mrs. Dialle shook her head. “It’s alright. The princess tends to cause accidents during meals.”

Mrs. Dialle’s polite demeanor didn’t fool Eirik; he caught the brief flash of hostility in her eyes. He realized that both maids from the palace were older and more experienced, likely chosen to closely monitor the princess.

Eirik nodded and began his meal quietly. As he placed some steamed vegetables on a piece of meat and ate, he noticed the princess sitting quietly. After a moment’s thought, he reached for her plate. He couldn’t eat while ignoring her.

He carefully deboned a piece of lamb from the stew, thinking it would be soft enough for her to eat. But then he remembered she might not be able to handle utensils properly, so he cut the meat into small pieces and offered it to her.

“Dear, would you like to try this?”

The princess sniffed the food before opening her mouth. He placed a piece in her mouth, and she chewed it contentedly.

“Are there any foods my wife particularly likes or dislikes?” he asked.

“No, she eats everything well,” Mrs. Dialle replied promptly, almost as if she had been waiting for the question.

Eirik carefully inspected another piece of lamb for any small bones before offering it to the princess. She accepted it without hesitation. Just as he thought she was more docile than expected, the princess suddenly spat out the meat and knocked over her water glass. She began splashing the water on her plate with her hands.

In an instant, the stew and water were all over the table and even on Eirik’s sleeve. He frowned and looked at the maid, who seemed unfazed as if this was a common occurrence.

The princess, having soaked the front of her dress in brown stains, finally seemed satisfied and let out a barking laugh, scrunching her nose in delight. Eirik sighed quietly.

He couldn’t get angry at a woman who didn’t even know what she was doing. It wasn’t just about the knightly vow to protect the weak. He understood that no matter what he said, she wouldn’t comprehend.

Silently, he took a napkin and began wiping her face.