Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 93

Eirik helped Miesa into the armor hidden beneath her clothes. The memory of Tilberg made him uneasy, but he meticulously checked her attire multiple times.

Who knew what might happen during the hunting tournament? He had repositioned the knights nearby just in case, though he had no intention of escalating the situation yet. It was merely a precautionary measure.

“And the Madam Cladnier?” Miesa asked.

“My parents will ride in a different carriage. Unlike the banquet, there are many items to transport this time,” Eirik replied.

With a heavy heart, he helped Miesa into the carriage first. Gella, along with other attendants, was in a separate carriage, allowing Eirik and Miesa to sit alone together as they used to, watching the scenery pass by outside the window.

“When we arrive, walk around a bit first. It’s safer when things are still disorganized from our arrival. Once many eyes have seen you, head down for dinner with Cullen’s escort.”

Miesa listened attentively.

“I’ve also arranged for knights to guard you specifically. They’ll be dressed as beaters[1], and I’ll point them out to you later.”

[1] In a hunting tournament, “beaters” are individuals who help drive game out of cover towards the hunters

“How many days will it last?” she asked.

“The tournament usually lasts three days, barring any rain.”

The mention of rain made Miesa tense. Eirik gently stroked her back, reassuring her.

“I checked the night sky yesterday; it won’t rain today at least. You’ll be fine,” he said soothingly.

“That’s a relief,” Miesa sighed, her tension easing as she resumed watching the scenery outside.

As they arrived at the foot of the mountain, Miesa put in her earplugs with a determined expression before getting off the carriage.

Riding up the mountain ridge, they were greeted by a breathtaking view. However, hearing the distant cries of birds near the cliffs, Eirik lifted her into his arms.

Miesa buried her head in his chest. It was a shame they couldn’t enjoy the scenery together, but it couldn’t be helped. While the attendant struggled to handle Eirik’s black horse, he carried Miesa to the pre-prepared Cladnier family tent.

“Take out your earplugs and rest for a while. There aren’t many eyes on us yet, so there’s no need to exhaust yourself already,” Eirik said, handing her a basket of fruit from the table. But Miesa was staring at something.

Following her gaze, Eirik noticed the goddess statue decorating a corner of the tent.

“This…”

It was customary to place a goddess statue during hunting tournaments to pray for safety. Eirik hadn’t mentioned that Miesa was afraid of such statues, so the attendants who prepared the tent hadn’t known.

Now, the statue seemed as unsettling as the birds. His devout mother would be horrified to hear him say that. Hastily, he reached out to remove the statue.

“I was so focused on the birds that I didn’t think of anything else,” he muttered.

“No, it’s fine. The goddess likes me now,” Miesa whispered, stopping his hand. “She gave me you, didn’t she? So it’s fine.”

Eirik looked at the statue. The knights must have gone out of their way to bring this precious seraphinite statue. The Mother of All, carved from pale green and deep green streaked stone, gazed down with a benevolent smile, silently observing the couple.

“If you’re okay with it, we’ll leave it for now,” Eirik said.

As they gazed at the statue, Gella arrived, opening the tent flap.

“Sir Cullen has just arrived and is standing outside,” Gella announced.

Miesa nodded and gave a hand signal to [Sit]. It made sense to use hand signals since they never knew who might be listening.

Eirik had used hand signals before, but it was the first time he saw Miesa using them to communicate. Watching her talk with Gella using hand signals left him shaking his head in disbelief.

“Incredible,” he muttered.

[What], [I], [Question].

“Do you even use both hands? It took me over two years to master that.”

Proudly, Gella clapped for her as well, praising her as a true lady of the Cladnier family. Feeling a mix of pride and amazement, Eirik chuckled helplessly and stepped out of the tent.

After ensuring his parents’ tent was in order and surveying the surroundings, he noticed that the major families were starting to arrive. After confirming that there were no immediate threats, Eirik returned to his tent to inform Miesa.

“Alright, let’s go out and have some fun. Remember to keep your eyes on the ground,” he reminded her.

Miesa put her earplugs back in, practiced a few smiles in the mirror, and then dashed outside. As Gella followed, Eirik called Cullen over for another word.

“If any birds come near my wife, inform Gella immediately and catch them without fail,” Eirik instructed.

“There don’t seem to be many birds. Probably because they released predators before the tournament,” Cullen replied. Even Cullen had grown to despise birds, having once cherished and cared for messenger birds during his squire days.

“No hunting hawks, right?” Eirik asked.

“His Majesty dislikes the mess birds make on the stands and floors,” Cullen confirmed.

Eirik couldn’t understand a mind that detested bird droppings but relished in the scattering of blood and flesh. Nevertheless, he pushed Cullen forward, urging him to go and protect Miesa from the birds.

The cool breeze gently caressed her cheeks, the grass smelled sweet, and the shoes near her paused and retreated. Miesa felt good. She enjoyed walking while keeping her eyes on the ground.

Suddenly, Gella grabbed her. Recognizing the signal for danger, Miesa crouched down and began tearing at the grass. When Gella tapped her back, indicating it was safe, Miesa stood up and continued walking with her eyes downcast.

“This isn’t the hunting ground. Have they already started hunting?” a passing noble chuckled at Cullen, likely thinking he was an eager young knight. Cullen returned a weak smile while keeping a keen eye on the flock of birds soaring through the sky.

The mountain was teeming with birds, as expected. Fortunately, the birds seemed cautious and stayed away from the people. Cullen followed the Margravine closely, occasionally shooting down the noisy birds perched in the trees.

“Over there,” Gella directed as she guided the Margravine to another area. Meanwhile, Cullen aimed his bow at a bird on a branch. An elderly lady clicked her tongue nearby.

“If you catch that bird, it’ll fall on the Duke of Salachez’s tent.”

“I’m just a bit too eager,” Cullen admitted.

“Is this your first tournament?” The elderly lady looked at Cullen with disdain, but thankfully, the people from the Salachez family were more understanding.

“We can roast it for a meal,” someone remarked.

The Margrave’s association with the modest Duke of Salachez had earned him deep gratitude and affection. Even when blood from a shot bird stained one of their boxes, Cullen was spared any reprimand.

Cullen continued aiming diligently. He caught three waddling partridges from afar and handed them to nearby people, who voiced no major complaints.

Miesa stood under the banner of an unfamiliar family.

“Let’s move Madam somewhere else,” Cullen gestured to Gella. Miesa, with her earplugs in, didn’t hear him and continued to tear at the flowers beneath the banner until she made eye contact with a woman.

She recognized her. This was the woman who had firmly advised against having children.

“It’s alright. We’ll leave,” the woman said, though Miesa found it difficult to decipher her exact words. She watched the woman’s neatly moving lips, wondering what she was saying.

“No, it’s time for Madam to eat,” Gella interjected, pulling Miesa by the arm. Reluctant to be dragged away, Miesa suddenly flopped to the ground. Fearing birds might fly overhead, she squeezed her eyes shut and flipped over to lie face down. The scent of the grass was comforting.