The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 41
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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 41
‘What is this? How does it even work?’
‘Shik, suu.’
‘Did you tunnel through? Is there a train or something? Can we ride it?’
‘Suu, shik, shik.’
‘Speak so I can understand you, damn it.’
My impatience only deepened my frustration. I restrained the urge to grab Shisha by the collar and shake her senseless—though it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, given her crystalline form offered nothing to grip.
After pressing her for more details, I gleaned little of substance. All I managed to extract was that somewhere on a nearby peak lay a passage that could shorten our travel distance considerably.
Wolfgang seized upon that information with meticulous care.
‘Rotar Eisenrit must have received word of this as well.’
In any case, standing beside Shisha now, I found myself struck by a realization.
An alien race who had once threatened my life for survival. A being whose appearance and language differed so completely that communication itself proved difficult.
Yet somehow, my heart felt more at ease in her presence than it did around others. Perhaps it was simply the result of days spent together.
Status and rank. Identities forcibly imposed by our respective societies. Perhaps it was precisely because she knew nothing of such things that I felt this comfort.
That said, I remained curious about her nature. I studied Shisha’s shimmering profile, then resorted to gestures and pantomime to ask my question.
“Shisha. Are you female or male?”
It was perhaps a belated question. Usually one could tell by appearance alone.
A stag with antlers. A doe without. When I mimicked the distinction with my body, Shisha seemed to grasp the question readily enough.
“Sususu.”
She flattened her palm and held it above her head, imitating a doe.
“Ah, so you’re female.”
I had genuinely had no idea. Even if her race were hermaphroditic, I would have simply accepted it.
The Holy Knights standing guard over Shisha wore identical expressions of surprise. ‘She was female?’ Their eyes widened in astonishment. So you’ve all been eavesdropping this whole time, have you?
I continued as if I hadn’t noticed.
“So then, are you wealthy?”
“Sit.”
“Money. You give me this, yes, thank you, money.”
“Shaaaa.”
“Why can’t you understand? If you’re rich, that’s good. Big house, lots of delicious food, people you want dead just go whoosh and—”
“That will be quite enough, Holy Maiden. The Holy Knights are all embarrassed.”
The familiar voice cut me short. My brow furrowed involuntarily.
‘Damn it, when did this bastard follow me?’
I turned my head, and there he was—Wolfgang, shaking his head as he stood before me. I had deliberately come here to avoid him, so why was he following me around?
I shot Wolfgang a sharp glare before turning back to Shisha. She appeared to be contemplating something, her mouth closed. Then—
“Shik.”
She answered. By now, I could recognize the distinction between ‘yes’ and ‘no’ well enough.
And that answer was ‘yes.’
“Shisha… you were wealthy?”
Now that I thought about it, her gleaming exterior did seem refined. She had devoured that apple without hesitation, treating it as nothing precious—perhaps that was the behavior of the wealthy.
‘Wait. Why would a rich girl be alone in the Snowy Mountains?’
This only deepens the mystery surrounding Shisha’s true identity.
Whether or not she sensed my confusion, Shisha simply tilted her head and gazed at me.
I was about to open my mouth to extract more information from her when—
“Saint.”
A familiar voice accompanied by the sensation of fingers poking my shoulder reached me once more.
Why? Why again? I whirled around, and Wolfgang Lichtenbrun immediately leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear.
“I didn’t simply follow you. There’s a matter I must discuss with you.”
His pleasant, dulcet voice tickled my earlobe. I furrowed my brow as I regarded him.
“…What is it?”
“Will you truly allow the Expedition Force’s atmosphere to remain in such a state?”
“…”
“Surely you’re aware that the Prince’s recent severity stems from you and that Belgrum?”
“…”
Well, I had nothing to say. For once, he was speaking nothing but truth.
My gaze naturally drifted toward the front of the long procession. Despite the considerable distance, there was one figure whose exceptional height and build made him instantly recognizable.
‘Rotar Eisenrit.’
He was conversing with several Holy Knights beside him. The atmosphere was…
“Quite grim, wouldn’t you say?”
Wolfgang added his commentary as if narrating a scene. Yet he was right once more.
The Holy Knights stood rigidly, their attention fixed on Rotar Eisenrit’s words. The coldness in his gaze directed toward them was utterly chilling—his expression was one that seemed capable of severing their necks at any moment.
‘Though such a thing wouldn’t actually happen.’
It was an unfamiliar sight.
Rotar Eisenrit was excessively austere and reserved toward everyone except me. Yet simultaneously, he was a superior and liege lord without lingering resentment or inconsistency.
‘Unless they committed some grave transgression, he wouldn’t normally adopt such a suffocating demeanor.’
The reason for Rotar Eisenrit’s heightened sensitivity was obvious—it had been several days since he began sharing a tent with other Holy Knights.
In other words, he hadn’t shared a tent with me since that day.
“The situation grows worse by the day. Yesterday, he silenced a subordinate’s mouth because the sound of him smacking his lips while sleeping was irritating.”
“Don’t exaggerate. Seriously.”
“I’m serious. Goodness, the fellow already has a stuffy nose, and I genuinely thought we’d end up with a corpse on our hands.”
Though embellishment seemed to have been added, the poor atmosphere of the tent came through clearly enough.
“Saint, wouldn’t you say the sparks have scattered? Don’t you feel sorry for the Holy Knights? What would Pelmira think of this situation?”
“…”
He’s enjoying this far too much. From now on, I’ll mute Wolfgang’s rambling.
I left him to his endless prattle and looked back toward Rotar Eisenrit. The conversation—or rather, non-conversation—seemed to have ended, as the Holy Knights beside him had already withdrawn.
And then.
‘…Ah.’
Our eyes met. Mine and Rotar Eisenrit’s.
His green eyes, devoid of warmth, widened.
“Huh?”
The ground trembles.
With a rumbling sound, as if something were collapsing.
“An avalanche?”
The Holy Knights looked around in panic. Yet no cascade of snow tumbled from the nearby peaks or hillsides. And.
“…This sound—it’s coming from below?”
The ground trembled more violently. Simultaneously, the sound drew closer.
Which meant.
‘…Something is approaching?’
The moment understanding struck, I felt an arm encircle my waist. My body lifted into the air.
Before I could even turn my head, labored breathing and a familiar voice reached my ears from behind.
“We must flee.”
Rotar Eisenrit.
The man who had been standing at the front of our procession mere moments ago.
When had he run all the way here? Could it have been from the instant the ground began to shake?
My chest lurched momentarily. But this was not the time for such thoughts.
The Holy Knights had already scattered in all directions, raising their swords. Rotar, keeping me tucked against his side, moved toward where the horses were.
My duty in this moment was clear: entrust my fragile body to Rotar and flee as far as possible from the approaching calamity.
Then, I noticed.
“Shisha!”
My blue-grey companion, left abandoned with her wrists bound.
Even amid the chaos, Shisha stared blankly at some point on the ground, as though seeking answers within it.
Cradled in Rotar’s arms, I reached out my hand.
“Shisha! Come this way!”
“Elise!”
I heard Rotar’s voice, disbelieving.
Fortunately, Shisha snapped to attention at my call, turning her head. Only when I confirmed she was rushing toward us did my heart settle slightly.
Then I looked up at Rotar’s face. He.
“…You are, truly.”
His eyes held the expression of one confronting something utterly incomprehensible.
But there was no time for that. Rotar quickly turned his head and bolted toward the horse again. Survival was what mattered now.
It was the moment his hand barely grasped the horse’s reins.
“…!”
The ground split open. Directly beneath where Rotar and I stood.
“Ah.”
There was nothing to stand on.
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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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