Aya Ran Away - Chapter 27

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 27
Relief washed over her, even as her mind began to stir slowly back to life.
Aya recalled the moment she’d emerged from the Underground Prison.
She remembered the conversation between Nahal and Chipor, all three of them talking together, and then the instant Nahal came to keep his promise, placing the Ring in her hands.
That was when the tears began.
They started at the corner of her eye, traced down her cheek, and soaked into the pillow beneath her head.
She’d thought death was inevitable, inescapable—but it seemed that wasn’t true after all.
Her life had been wretched, yet Aya wanted to live.
She pressed her arms down and slowly, carefully pushed herself upright.
She’d expected her body to be weak from illness, refusing to obey—but strangely, she was able to sit up far more easily than she’d anticipated.
Aya opened and closed her fists repeatedly.
Yes, her strength had definitely returned; it felt as though she were stronger than before.
Unfamiliar with the room’s layout, she turned her head to search for a bell.
Fortunately, a small bell sat on the table beside the bed, close enough that she could reach it by extending her arm.
Aya picked up the bell and shook it.
Ding-ling, ding-ling.
As if someone had been waiting, a knock sounded almost immediately at the door.
“You called, madam?”
The voice was unfamiliar and courteous.
The attendant who approached her examined Aya’s face carefully.
“I shall fetch the physician at once. If I may, shall this girl wipe your face clean?”
The attendant stepped aside slightly, gesturing to another servant standing nearby with a damp Towel in hand.
‘Madam?’
Confused by the new form of address, Aya nodded her consent.
The king’s Royal Concubines, except for the queen, received no special title and were ordinarily called madam.
Soon enough, Aya’s cheeks flushed.
Something in her chest tickled strangely.
She felt the urge to cry out or scratch at the prickling sensation.
The attendant wiped her face with the utmost gentleness.
After that, other servants filed in one by one to attend to Aya.
They all treated her as though she were made of porcelain.
She had lived her entire life as a princess, yet she’d never received such treatment before.
Only after meeting with the physician did Aya learn that she’d been unconscious for a full day.
And she discovered that this unfamiliar bedroom she now occupied had originally belonged to Nahal.
* * *
“Well then, I shall take my leave, Your Highness.”
Unaccustomed to the title, Nahal merely waved his hand without responding.
It was unbearable.
He hadn’t even undergone the Coronation Ceremony yet, and already people were treating him like a king.
Those who once discriminated against him for his origins and insulted him openly had reversed their stance; the Temple had erupted into festive celebration upon hearing that their chosen candidate had ascended to the throne. All of it grated on him without mercy.
If the late king hadn’t lost his mind, none of this would have happened.
Had the nobility not been branded as traitors, had the king not massacred an entire noble house under the pretense that they were from the Northern Region, the timid and stubborn nobles of the Capital would never have come forward to support Nahal.
It had been tumultuous enough when he was appointed Commander; now he was to be king.
He’d been swept along by circumstance and thrust onto the throne almost against his will, and he had no certainty he could do it well.
The weight of it all made every honor feel like a burden.
Merely cleaning up the aftermath of the rebellion was mountainous work.
In the midst of all this, as if sensing their chance, the nobles had begun flooding him with various tax reform proposals and related policy discussions, including land taxes.
He felt as though he were surrounded by a pack of wolves with their jaws agape beneath his feet.
Of course, there were those who stood beside him and lent their support, but ultimately, Nahal was the one responsible for everything.
Every matter, great or small, had to pass through his hands before it could be resolved.
Nahal set aside the organized documents and sorted through the pile of letters that had arrived for him, selecting one to read.
By cruel coincidence, it was a report detailing the damage in the Northern Region.
Reading of the extent of the devastation and the anticipated cost and time required for reconstruction, Nahal rubbed his temples.
Right after the Enthronement Ceremony concluded, he would have to travel to the Northern Region to personally investigate the damage and verify the costs involved, and even at a glance, the expenses appeared substantial.
The region was too important to abandon, but the problem was taxation.
The noble families that had supported him were now demanding tax exemptions.
He couldn’t refuse their demands, yet he couldn’t afford to deplete the new royal treasury either.
“Compile Imrabel’s personal assets into itemized lists and bring them to me. Also bring the land registers owned by the Agan Royal House.”
Nahal sat down in one corner of the room and spoke to his aide, who was assisting with the paperwork.
“I hear Lebannan has already organized that. I shall go retrieve it.”
The weary subordinate bowed slightly and withdrew from the chamber.
There was something unsettling about touching another’s possessions, yet having already claimed the seat, he had no grounds to hesitate.
Left alone, Nahal set down the quill pen and rubbed his eyes.
Water stained the callused fingertips of his hand.
The thin quill, held in place of a sword, seemed so ill-suited to him that it stirred an almost shameful unease.
“…To do this for the rest of my life feels dizzyingly distant.”
Even in the military, he’d never felt quite this way.
Then, at least, he’d been certain he was needed where he stood.
But now he felt utterly displaced.
Though the king had been gripped by madness, the dead king would have been versed in countless disciplines of learning and the protocols of court.
Such things were foreign territory to Nahal, and he knew it would not be easy for him to master them in any short span.
He hadn’t even properly begun, yet already the weight of it pressed down on him.
“Your Majesty.”
At the voice from beyond the door, Nahal lowered his arm and straightened his posture.
“Come in.”
The one who entered was Bardal.
Watching the corners of his mouth twitch upward in an annoying smirk, Nahal’s expression darkened.
“Are you growing accustomed to the title ‘Your Majesty,’ Your Majesty?”
When Nahal made as if to hurl a scroll at that insufferable face, Bardal chuckled and stepped closer to his side.
He carried both a stack of documents awaiting Nahal’s approval and a single bottle.
“These two require approval by tomorrow morning without fail, they said.”
Bardal set down the cup with a satisfied smirk.
“And this is a gift, Your Majesty.”
Placing the bottle on the table, Bardal spoke with shameless familiarity.
“It arrived in crates at the estate, so I smuggled it out. It suits an old man’s taste—it must be excellent.”
Nahal let out a quiet laugh, thinking that only Bardal would steal wine from his own house as a successor, or call a man of the Carinus family’s standing “an old man.”
“Congratulatory wine, congratulatory wine—and you’ve brought the princess into your private chambers, haven’t you? Honestly, from the moment I helped carry her out of the Underground Prison, I never imagined Your Majesty held such passionate feelings for the princess… Ah!”
This time, as Bardal truly began to ramble, Nahal threw a scroll at him.
The one that landed squarely drew a sharp yelp from Bardal.
“You’re being bashful? How unlike you, truly…”
At the muttering, Nahal wordlessly picked up another scroll.
Bardal surrendered.
“Put it down, and I’ll explain. Put it down.”
Shaking his head at the exaggerated gestures, Nahal seated himself once more.
“That’s not an appropriate thing to say of someone who’s ill. What in the world is in that head of yours?”
Nahal frowned and scolded Bardal with some severity.
The fever had broken overnight, but when he’d checked just before dawn, the princess still hadn’t regained consciousness.
He’d dismissed her attendants and ladies-in-waiting late that night, leaving no time to select new servants, so in his haste he’d brought her to his own palace chambers.
But he hadn’t shared the same room with her.
“The circumstances left no choice. I’ve remained here throughout. There’s been nothing improper.”
Nahal answered curtly.
Watching him, Bardal giggled before letting out an exclamation and opening his mouth again.
“Ah, yes—the princess has awakened.”
Should we call her the Queen now?

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————