Black-Haired Dad Isn’t Something You Reap - Chapter 5

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 05. Regression (5)
The physicians from the Imperial Palace entered the prison and examined my wounds, wrapping my feet in bandages.
At that moment, the black-haired man who had left earlier returned and gave me a thumbs up in front of my cell.
“I gave that bastard a beating too.”
“Oh, oh really?”
Who did he beat?
Could it be that blockhead? Did he actually beat the blockhead?
Wait, and he’s still alive? Is there truly anyone in this Empire who can beat the Emperor and survive?
Prisoner, with his unkempt black hair and thick beard, laughed heartily at the satisfaction of it all, then obediently returned to his cell.
At the sight of the bear returning from his walk and entering his cage, the jailers cried out, “Welcome back, sir!”
What is this? Am I the only one who doesn’t know who this Prisoner is?
Well, of course I had little interest in people outside my immediate circle. Still, I pride myself on knowing the profiles of the major nobility!
“By the way, Prisoner.”
“Yes.”
“Shave yourself.”
“….”
“You look like a bear.”
“….”
I’m not exaggerating—I genuinely thought a black grizzly bear was walking past. The kind that hunt salmon in autumn in the Northern Mountain Range of the Empire.
Even if this is a prison, what kind of appearance is that?
What is the difference between a person and a beast? No, even beasts groom themselves. They comb their fur with their tongues, for instance.
It wasn’t my place to say so, having not washed my face this morning, but I chattered away with my stiff tongue until Prisoner tapped the wall to silence me.
“Your Highness the Princess, is there not something else you wish to say?”
“What?”
“I said I gave him a beating, did I not?”
“Did you ask for my request?”
“….”
See? Nothing to say, is there?
You committed an act I never asked for, so why should I praise you?
Besides, good deeds are meant to be done without expecting reward. If you expect reward, then it is no longer a good deed but a transaction with yourself.
Why is service called service? Because it is performed without expecting reward.
“Stop.”
“From the beginning, service is a matter of—”
“Please, stop.”
“Do you know what self-satisfaction is, Prisoner? It is quite a driving force in life.”
“Your Highness the Princess, I beg you.”
“Very well.”
I could lecture for another hour, but seeing your sincerity in beating that blockhead, I shall refrain.
At my words, Prisoner and the other prisoners throughout the prison erupted in expressions of gratitude. It seemed the other inmates had been listening intently to my noble discourse.
“Now then, children should sleep at this hour. I permit you all to play quietly.”
Having skipped meals and exhausted myself with all that commotion, I announced I would retire for the night. From the adjacent cell and scattered throughout the Prison came the sound of voices: “Sleep well, Your Highness.”
Political prisoners though they were, these men understood how to show proper respect to a princess. When I eventually left this place, I would use my royal prerogative to reduce their sentences.
I thanked them graciously and climbed onto the bed, pulling the blanket over myself.
It was my first time sleeping on such a rigid mattress in my life, and when I woke, my entire body was covered in bruises.

✦ ✦ ✦
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
Morning arrived, and the moment I took a spoonful of the served food, I kicked the tray away and rolled across the floor.
It was revolting.
How dare they bring me such pig slop to eat!
Overwhelmed by indignation and disbelief, I shrieked and wailed until the prisoners in the Prison united in their pleas for me to calm myself.
“Prison food naturally lacks flavor, Your Highness!”
“This is for the sake of reformation—please bear with it, Your Highness!”
“The food distributor won’t even season it properly because he’s stingy with salt! Please, compose yourself!”
You may accept such fare, but the Imperial Family’s sole legitimate heir deserves food befitting her station!
I screamed without tiring, my voice trembling with fury, until both prisoners and Jailers united in their appeals for understanding. Finally, the head Jailer rushed forward and promised to bring me a fresh meal.
“Wait. I have another demand.”
“Yes. Please command me, Your Highness.”
“Ahem.”
No matter how delicious the food, eating alone feels hollow. Though we know each other only by voice, we live under the same roof and share a bond—surely we should eat the same meals together.
The head chef of the Princess Palace prepared dishes so exquisite that it seemed wasteful to eat them alone.
“From this moment forward, while I remain in this Prison, all food served here shall be prepared by the head chef of the Princess Palace!”
“Your grace is boundless!”
“We shall obey your command!”
This is something I can resolve with my own authority without needing that blockhead’s permission. Even if word reaches him, he wouldn’t care much anyway.
At this hour, he’s probably still passed out asleep.
After that, my palace attendants worked diligently, and the Prison’s meals became filled with the delicacies I normally enjoyed.
From all corners came praise that such heavily seasoned food with salt and pepper was a rare treat, and some prisoners even shouted “Long live the Princess!” with each spoonful of rice.
“Prisoner, what do you have to say?”
“Do you know the meaning of self-satisfaction, Princess?”
“Exactly. You ungrateful wretch.”
He’s using the very lessons I taught him. That Prisoner has no manners whatsoever.
I ate heartily, then drank the antidote the Physician had prepared, and finished with strawberries for dessert.
The strawberries harvested this year were exceptionally delicious.
Thinking it wasteful to eat them alone, I thrust my hand through the opening and offered some to Prisoner, who quickly accepted them and thanked me.
“Self-satisfaction, that is all.”
“You truly don’t yield an inch.”
Mother and Aunt taught me that the Imperial Family’s legitimate heir must never back down anywhere.
This wasn’t a teaching of the Kisomalos household, but rather of Lorowi, my maternal family. Lorowi has quite a fierce temperament, you see.
“Ah, Lorowi.”
“Oh, you know of Lorowi?”
Well, it would be stranger not to know, given that we serve Lorowi, a mid-tier deity, and our house has such a long history.
I proudly mentioned that my mother was Lorowi’s eldest daughter, and that Kazelnu, the current head of household and my aunt, was my father’s younger sister. Then Prisoner spoke with chilling candor.
“I know. Lorowi—the house that conspired with my uncle to murder my parents.”
“Ah, well….”
I’m sorry. My maternal family is rather… like that.
They never miss an opportunity to kill people or start wars, you know.
So that was it. Since my maternal family had buried this matter, my tutors never taught me about it. I’d wondered why he seemed so formidable yet I knew nothing of him.
“I apologize. My aunt’s side can be… rather extreme.”
“No. My parents died because they were weak, nothing more. Your Highness need not apologize.”
You really have no manners, Prisoner. No matter what, you shouldn’t speak of your deceased parents that way.
Our blockhead deserved to die, but from what I understood, Prisoner’s parents were merely victims.
“My parents also bore fault for seizing my uncle’s territory.”
“Hmm….”
“And my uncle, who served as my guardian, coveted our family’s wealth and handed me over to the Imperial Family. He sent me to the battlefield, always watching for a chance to kill me. The moment I came of age, I purged my uncle’s entire family.”
“What a mess….”
Well, such families exist. Honestly, our house ended rather cleanly compared to that, didn’t it?
We ruined ourselves by destroying the nation, so it’s self-inflicted, but theirs… well, it was largely Lorowi that destroyed their house, wasn’t it?
Regression seemed more necessary for that family.
“I have ample justification to kill them, but I entered this place as an act of repentance.”
Ah, so you do have a conscience after all, Prisoner.
Judging by how long your hair has grown—long enough to cover your entire face—you must have been here quite a while. And you’ve been reflecting all this time.
But still, in the prime of youth, you should go outside and enjoy yourself. I regret most of all the fun I never had after I died.
His foolishness had crossed into something almost pitiable.
“Prisoner.”
“Yes?”
“Here. Give me your hand.”
I didn’t even need to exert my authority to release him. He could leave once his self-reflection was complete.
That’s why the Jailers didn’t stop him even when he came and went outside the Prison.
“Ki-sho, Ki-so, Ki-sho-mal-ro. Ah, damn it!”
Ugh, my tongue is stiff and won’t cooperate!
I deliberately recalled the times when that blockhead would beat me, or the days I endured the rack, raising my blood pressure. As heat surged into my head, my tongue gradually loosened.
“As the legitimate heir of Kisomalos, I decree.”
“….”
“Your sins are forgiven.”
So go out and enjoy yourself, Prisoner. Don’t regret like I do.
And if possible, become a talent that benefits the Empire and save me from the rack.
I drew Kisomalos’s seal upon Prisoner’s palm and clapped my hands together.
As the second most noble person in the realm and the legitimate heir of Kisomalos, my pardon meant Prisoner need not even contemplate his sins any longer.
From now on, shave regularly, keep your hair neat, wash your face well, bathe properly, wear fine clothes, and live freely doing whatever you wish, I continued.
Prisoner clenched his fists tightly before responding to my sermon.
“I understand.”
“And next time we meet, show some manners.”
“I’ll accept that suggestion.”
Yes, that’s right. Now go. Make sure you shave. And get your hair cut.
As I repeated myself again and again, Prisoner kicked open the prison door and bolted away, his hands clamped over his ears.

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