The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 57

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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 57
Rotar didn’t press me further as my eyes rolled about uselessly. Instead, he gathered my trembling form into his arms and set me down before a table laden with food.
A creamy white porridge simmered gently with almond oil and honey. Fluffy scrambled eggs dressed with fragrant herbs and rich butter.
All dishes designed to soothe the stomach of one freshly awakened from sleep—accompanied by a towering heap of meat on a silver platter that was clearly Rotar’s portion.
White steam rose from everything as though it had just been placed. He knew exactly when I would open my eyes. At moments like these, Rotar seemed less like the Empire’s sword and more like a mysterious sorcerer.
Yet when he devoured his own meat and vegetable salad in moments, he resembled a famished wandering knight. He’d already shortened his mealtimes further, and now he seemed to find amusement in watching me eat.
“Why are you staring?”
“The way you scoop porridge with a small spoon, then layer scrambled eggs and tender vegetables atop it before consuming it all in one bite is quite fascinating.”
“What the—”
Once, he’d laughed when I’d stuffed a thick meat pie into my mouth and mumbled away, comparing me to a winter squirrel.
He said it brought him joy to see how my words would suddenly diminish when eating something particularly delicious, my expression growing blank as I focused entirely on the taste.
Was he serious? I hadn’t asked such a foolish question.
The answer became clear whenever I saw the Prince staring at my face without blinking once.
I’d once told him to be moderate lest he choke. Especially when difficult-to-eat dishes appeared. It felt awkward to tear into roasted boar legs so ravenously before my one and only husband.
What had Rotar said then?
‘Would you rob me of these small joys?’
Yes, he’d asked in such a pitiful voice, as though I were a wicked, selfish person.
‘Elise has such a strong stomach that she rarely gets indigestion. She digested potato soup without issue, the very dish that troubles others.’
And he’d added such infuriating remarks.
Rotar rose from the table once my meal neared its end, called away by weary knights awaiting him. Of course, he didn’t forget our parting kiss.
“I shall see you this evening.”
With those words, he kissed me, and for a long moment, he intertwined his tongue with mine, tasting my mouth with such poignant longing that it was almost painful.
Sometimes his passion exceeded propriety, and he wouldn’t cease kissing even before the maidservants who came to clear the table.
He slowly traced the small of my waist beneath the thin fabric with both hands, his warm tongue pressing against the roof of my mouth.
It was only natural that I felt embarrassed watching the maidservants deliberately avert their eyes.
Only when I struck his hand with my fist did Rotar reluctantly release my lips, his reluctance written plainly across his face.
‘Ouch.’
The regret smeared so thickly across his expression as he feigned pain halfheartedly left me unable to scold him further.
Well, I too had lost my mind somewhat. Ever since the day Rotar returned.
Despite tangling our tongues and bodies together daily, the moment I turned my head, I missed him. Something within me had surely been submerged.
After he left, I began a tedious struggle while my attendants dressed my hair.
A battle against tiresome intrusive thoughts that crowded my mind as though they’d been waiting for this moment.
Strangely, most of those intrusive voices belonged to Wolfgang.
‘You didn’t notice, did you? It was all a lie.’
‘Isn’t that so, Holy Maiden? That’s why you comforted the Prince with falsehoods.’
A lie.
Yes, I had lied. To Rotar.
‘I’ve lost.’
‘I won’t think of dying and leaving you behind.’
I still intended to die. Leaving that man, Rotar, behind.
If someone showed me a way to avoid it, I could have licked Maximilian’s toes without hesitation.
Even if I were cast naked into the Snowy Mountains and told to endure that cold. I would have been willing to abandon the healthy limbs I’d so desperately longed for in a single day.
But there was no way. No method to bring Maximilian down without my own death.
In other words, no way to save Rotar from that terrible demon’s world.
Was this why Pelmira had chosen me as the Saint? Was it meant to be my fate to end my life as a holy martyr descended from another world?
If so, it was a completely mistaken choice.
Since coming to this world, I had never once lived as a Saint should. Setting aside the fact that I was never treated as a proper Saint.
Had I ever chosen something for another’s sake rather than my own?
I hadn’t lived that way in my previous world either. I had chosen a sport so solitary that it was difficult even to attach such pleasant-sounding terms as cooperation or fair play to it.
Suppose I could defeat Maximilian by killing an innocent person. I might have chosen that path without prolonged deliberation.
That was the caliber of human I was. So.
“…This is a choice for myself, after all.”
Rotar, who would remain here alone and live on after my death. It was clear this choice was not for him.
So I had to bear responsibility. The thought that I had deceived Rotar while knowing the truth made my chest tighten unbearably.
At such times, I picked up the gun.
Every afternoon, with only a couple of Holy Knights as escort, I went to the entrance of the Snowy Mountains. And I chose a sturdy old tree and fired at the exact center of its trunk.
Imagining I was shooting Maximilian’s forehead, with meticulous precision.
The gun Kir had given me had a silencer attached, so I didn’t need to worry about others’ eyes.
I fired at the trees until sunset. Until my entire holy power was depleted.
Just before dizziness set in, I caught my breath and returned to the castle, where Rotar and dinner awaited me.
‘Are you not overexerting yourself?’
‘It’s merely training to keep my senses sharp.’
It wasn’t entirely a lie. My life consisted of nothing but firing the gun and returning, with no other scheduled activities.
Excessively leisurely, excessively futile. My increasingly confused mind was difficult to ignore with each passing day.
I was on the verge of pestering Konrad for work, thinking it would be better to be frantically busy instead.
The tail end of winter, as the days grew steadily longer.
“Your Highness, a messenger has arrived from the Imperial Palace.”
At last, it was time to move.
***
The road to the Imperial Capital was a mess from the torrential downpour that had poured down at dawn the previous day.
The carriage wheels rolling over the muddy road were caked with mud, unable to pick up any real speed.
I leaned my head out the carriage window.
“It’s dangerous, Your Highness.”
My maidservant protested in an anxious voice, but curiosity and unease churned within me, taking precedence.
Beneath the overcast sky, I could see armed knights clearing the path ahead and behind the Imperial Princess’s carriage.
Wolfgang Lichtenbrun was the one guarding the side of the carriage. The moment he spotted me leaning out the window, he approached and bowed.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, I was just curious about the situation.”
“You’re not hoping to catch a glimpse of your beloved Rotar, are you?”
“He’s lost his mind.”
Those words hadn’t come from me.
When I glanced back, my maidservant’s displeased face was glaring daggers at Wolfgang.
‘How dare he.’
Those words seemed written plainly across her smooth forehead.
I stifled a hollow laugh and gestured for Wolfgang to leave.
Noticing the atmosphere in the carriage had turned ominous, he rolled his eyes and withdrew his body. Even that attitude was presumptuous.
The moment I closed the carriage window and drew the curtain, my maidservant, Hilda, muttered in a cold voice.
“That man has been irritating me from the start. I’d like to challenge him to a duel.”
Some found charm in Wolfgang’s lighthearted manner, while others voiced displeasure.
Hilda clearly belonged to the latter category.
Of course, her anger was justified. Had I been alone with Wolfgang, I would have punched him in the forehead myself.
‘What is he saying about Rotar here?’
Rotar was currently galloping toward the Imperial Palace, leading only about fifty of his elite cavalry.

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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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