The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 11

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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 11
Somewhere within the Imperial Palace.
Beneath a building crowned with a gleaming golden dome, a maidservant whose face was scattered with freckles moved with bated breath.
She arrived at a dais overlooking the courtyard.
There sat a man reclining against a white sofa that seemed prepared for him alone, his chin cradled in his palm.
Wavy golden hair and piercing blue eyes marked him as strikingly beautiful.
Languid eyes and naturally upturned lips conveyed a gentle impression, while long, luxuriant lashes and crimson lips added an exquisite boyish charm.
He bore the unmistakable features of Theodora, once the Empire’s most beautiful empress.
Maximilian, the First Imperial Prince of the Empire, sat upon the sofa gazing down at the courtyard below.
The floor, paved with black and white checkered marble like a colossal chessboard, now held only three figures standing upon it.
A man and woman wearing white paper crowns, and a man wearing a black paper crown.
All were gaunt and naked, having been cleansed before their performance, yet scars and wounds remained vivid across their bodies.
With only king and queen remaining on the chessboard, the man in the white crown cried out.
“C-checkmate!”
In that instant, Maximilian’s eyes narrowed into a smile—fresh and fragrant as a neutral flower blooming.
The expression of the man in the black crown was the opposite. His face drained of color, he glanced frantically about before spotting Maximilian and dropping to his knees.
“Y-Your Highness! P-please, spare me!”
A knight standing at the edge of the chessboard approached him, a blood-soaked spear in hand.
“Hmm.”
Maximilian pressed a straightened finger to his cheek as if deliberating. His lips were about to part when—
“Your Highness.”
A pallid maidservant called to him. In an instant, the radiant smile that had graced Maximilian’s face froze into something glacial.
“To interrupt at the most entertaining moment, Martha. You’d best prepare yourself if this isn’t important.”
Cold sweat streamed down Martha’s forehead.
It had been several months since Maximilian converted the gardens of the Closed Palace into a venue for human chess, and every captured piece had perished.
The methods varied each time. For instance, last week’s chess pieces had drowned en masse inside a glass box filled with wine.
Martha, who knew the prince’s violent nature better than anyone, trembled as she broached the subject.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. The Second Imperial Prince, Rotar, he—”
Even as his half-brother’s name was mentioned, Maximilian’s expression remained unchanged. He was reaching for a glass of distilled spirits with an indifferent gaze when—
“—has been abducted and forced into marriage by Saint Elise.”
Crash! The glass slipped from Maximilian’s hand and shattered against the floor with a deafening clang. Martha’s shoulders flinched.
A peculiar silence passed between them, and Maximilian’s eyes fixed upon empty space for only a moment.
“…Ahahaha!”
Martha, who had cautiously glanced up, witnessed it.
The face of her master was consumed by an eerie, glittering ecstasy of laughter.
The laughter was crystalline—so pure that even the human pieces on the chessboard momentarily released their tension.
The prince rose abruptly from his seat, sparing the figures below not a glance as he strode swiftly from the courtyard, issuing commands to the maidservant hurrying after him.
“Dispose of the chess pieces simply. I’ve lost interest in them.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Martha’s gaze fell upon the man behind her. Belsh, commander of the Second Imperial Knight Order, gave a nod of acknowledgment.
Shortly after, within the Abandoned Palace where no footsteps dared tread, three short, thick screams echoed in succession.
Maximilian emerged from the Abandoned Palace, humming a cheerful tune as he made his way toward the Main Palace.
“Elise, Elise, Elise.”
The name whispered in that soft voice carried unmistakable delight.
Maximilian recalled the first moment he’d discovered Saint Elise. At first glance, she appeared beautiful yet hopelessly fragile—like a caged bird.
What would it be like to lock that pretty bird in a beautiful cage and snap her wings one by one? I wondered what cries she would make. She seemed nothing more than a fleeting amusement to endure the tedious life of the Imperial Palace.
But the moment our eyes met, my thoughts shifted. Fleeting? Those insolent eyes could never be a disposable trinket to be tasted once and discarded.
I wanted to savor every emotion that rose in those violet eyes.
Despair after hope, rage and sorrow, anxiety and fear, resignation that nothing could be changed….
Anything would do. I thought that even her murderous intent directed at me would be fascinating.
“My Elise. What are you scheming?”
I was in the midst of coercing the Archbishop. If he continued to resist, I was prepared to kill him. The Archbishop was replaceable, but Elise was not.
The Archbishop would understand his place and submit soon enough. Within a year at most, I would have Elise in my hands. It was already decided who would receive the crown from the dying Emperor.
But Elise moved first. As if she knew something.
Should I be angry that my plans had gone awry?
‘No.’
A dull ache spread through my lower body.
“Abduction marriage. So it’s an abduction marriage.”
Had the situation been reversed, I would have simply killed Rotar by any means necessary.
My half-brother had touched her first? It mattered not. It only meant I would have far more creative ways to play with Elise.
But a prince abducted by a Saint?
Could I use this as justification to seize her? It would be a futile attempt if Rotar, the victim of the abduction, chose to acknowledge Elise.
“Ha, what an audacious thought.”
That little head rolling about desperately, that Saint thrashing in desperation—I had never encountered such an endearing prey.
I wanted nothing more than to seize her by the hair and force her to crawl across the floor.
Only the sight of that Saint, tears streaming down her flushed face, would satisfy me.
My patience was short, but it didn’t matter. As always, I would obtain what I desired.
Upon entering the Main Palace, Maximilian smiled at the sight of his retainers lined up with their heads bowed. He then turned to Martha, who had followed behind, and asked in an even tone.
“Who wishes to see me?”
“Knight Commander Tobias, Your Highness.”
At the mention of that familiar name, Maximilian laughed once more.
“How curious. Rotar’s right hand seems to thrash about even more vigorously after being severed.”
“….”
Martha dared not respond to the First Prince’s musing. As he approached the Main Palace, he asked in a light tone.
“What was their stated destination?”
“It remains uncertain, but it is not the Monastery.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“We are investigating witnesses from the area where Knight Commander Tobias and they parted ways. Information should arrive soon.”
Maximilian slowed his pace as he approached the entrance of the Main Palace. Martha, who had glanced up, stiffened at the sight of a maid passing nearby.
The maid possessed silver hair, a rarity even within the Imperial Palace. Beyond that, her appearance was passable enough, but….
Martha observed that the First Prince’s gaze never left the maid’s hair.
Maximilian immediately turned and issued a command.
“Investigate Staufen first. No matter how I think about it, something feels off.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
“Once the destination becomes clear, prepare the troops immediately. Do not delay.”
“I shall obey your command.”
With the urgent matter settled, the First Prince’s steps grew noticeably lighter.
He blocked the path of the maid, who had been trying to circle around and avoid his procession.
“Oh…!”
Startled and frozen, the maid watched as he bent at the waist to meet her eyes, his smile radiant and warm.
“Forgive me, but would you help me with something?”
Suddenly face-to-face with the Empire’s little sun, the maid looked up at him, her face flushed crimson.
What had only been possible in imagination was now unfolding before her eyes.
Martha quietly observed the maid’s innocent elation before lowering her head.
Though bowing from behind wouldn’t be seen by Maximilian, it was a courtesy she never omitted.
Martha turned and walked away from the Main Palace. Only when Maximilian could no longer see her did she allow herself to breathe.
“…Sigh.”
She exhaled the breath she had been holding.
She could not help. Once again, the screams of a defenseless maid would echo through Maximilian’s private chambers.
‘No one stops the First Prince’s tyranny.’
No—no one could stop it. Not even the Emperor himself.
Martha quickened her pace toward Belsh, her face ashen.
***
A gun. Sleek frame, trigger, and grip.
Though something felt oddly out of place, at first glance it resembled a modern automatic pistol.
Why would there be a gun in the basement of Graupels? That rational question evaporated in an instant, and blood rushed to my head.
I shot to my feet and turned to the Butler. “Ammunition. Where is the ammunition?”
At the same time, I examined the underside of the gun.
…Where does the magazine go?
Strangely, I could not find the magazine or insertion slot that should have been beneath the grip.
Strangely, the magazine and insertion port that should have been below the grip were not visible.

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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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