The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 60

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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 60
“I see now.”
Pieces of the puzzle that had been scattered began to fall into place, filling the gaps that had haunted me.
I found myself recalling the first moment Rotar and I had touched.
It was in the carriage racing through the Northern Wasteland, when we had simulated the act of union.
Now it felt like a distant memory. What expression had Rotar worn then?
He had seemed like a wounded beast displaying fierce vigilance, but only for a moment. The instant he understood the necessity of the abduction marriage, he sought to mingle his body with mine.
Those green eyes gleaming with desire bore little resemblance to the ascetic man described in the handmaidens’ tales.
I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining Rotar—who was now urging his weary horse toward the Imperial Palace—sitting beside me.
He would have watched everything I did. If I yawned, he would have wiped the moisture from my eyes and smiled. If I coughed, he would have poured warm water into a cup and held it to my lips.
Perhaps he was better suited to the work of a handmaiden than to that of a knight.
I faced the imagined Rotar—beautiful, perfect, my husband—and asked him a question.
‘Rotar. What will you do if I crawl into your bed naked?’
The imagined Rotar smiled softly and answered.
“How could I refuse a gift you offer me?”
Would he truly speak such words? I could not be certain. My meager imagination had its limits.
And I realized, belatedly, that I was pining like a girl hopelessly in love for the first time.
‘Good heavens.’
I swallowed a sigh and opened my eyes, only to find Clara’s gaze meeting mine.
Her expression quickly composed itself, but I had seen it clearly—the faint smile playing at her lips as she looked at me.
What was this? Why? What?
My face grew hot for reasons I could not explain. Knowing Clara would never confess the truth even if I pressed her, I turned my head away.
“Hilda, does my expression seem strange?”
“Pardon? No, not at all. You simply appear to be in good spirits, my lady!”
Ah. I touched my cheeks and the corners of my mouth with one hand.
So that was it. I had been pleased by Clara’s story.
Reassured. Somewhat proud, even. I was truly a fool in love.
I cleared my throat unnecessarily and straightened my posture. In that moment, I felt like pounding on the carriage wall and shouting to the driver.
‘Faster! Get us to the Imperial Palace with greater speed!’
It was not that I wished to reach the Imperial Palace, where Maximilian’s foul stench would linger in every corner.
I simply longed to arrive early and meet Rotar, who would be waiting for me there.
Because the time granted to us was running short.
***
Eleven days and four more had passed since we began our journey to the Imperial Palace.
The morning after we spent a day at an inn in a nearby village that we’d rented in its entirety, I received three messages.
The first one was.
“I have arrived at the Imperial Palace. His Majesty’s health is not poor.”
It was a messenger bird from Rotar.
The handwriting was elegant and refined, befitting the Imperial Family, along with his initials.
I gazed at that single line of text for a long while.
What if it wears away from my staring?
As I blinked, I recalled the conversation we’d had before leaving Graupels.
‘Do you believe the Southern War was Maximilian’s doing?’
‘Yes. It would be stranger if it weren’t.’
‘Then Maximilian won’t pose a great threat to me within the Imperial Palace. He has a separate stage prepared for me, after all.’
An Emperor who was nothing like a father, and Maximilian who was nothing like a brother.
It was as though I were walking straight into the jaws of an enemy, yet Rotar remained composed.
What concerned him was rather my situation.
‘It is rare for imperial princes competing for the throne to live outside the palace with their consorts. Elise will lose almost all of her previous freedom the moment she enters. She will naturally face all manner of political obstruction.’
‘I know. Even so, it will be better than when I was Maximilian’s plaything.’
‘…I will identify the dangers within the Imperial Palace beforehand if possible.’
The news that the Emperor’s health was not poor was a continuation of this conversation. It was also the first thing I had instructed him to confirm.
In my previous life, the Emperor’s health had deteriorated around this same time.
Very rapidly—so much so that a sense of urgency arose that the ‘throne’ must be passed on before it was too late.
It was naturally Maximilian’s machinations. After Rotar, the only competitor, disappeared, there was no one left to obstruct Maximilian’s smooth path.
But now it was different. The Emperor had two options.
Of course, unless something unexpected occurred, the probability of the eldest son Maximilian inheriting the throne was higher.
‘This is a different development from the past.’
Because Rotar did not die, the Emperor’s life had been extended somewhat. Though he would never know it.
Then what should I do? No—what could I do?
In my previous life, the Emperor was an old man who was sick and infirm, having even lost his sanity. But if the Emperor in this life remained in good health…
‘…Even so, he wouldn’t be a man with sound judgment.’
I should discuss this matter gradually with the attendants as well.
I carefully folded Rotar’s note and placed it in my bosom.
Now that I thought about it, this was the first letter I’d received from him. If one could even call it a letter.
‘After all, we were always together, so there was no reason to exchange letters.’
Should I send him a note in return? I was pondering this when—
“Saint, the Archbishop has sent a messenger bird.”
The second message arrived.
Wolfgang handed me the note in the room we’d made into a temporary reception hall, tilting his head.
“At this rate, hasn’t the Archbishop attached a location-tracking artifact to you? The timing is uncanny.”
He was right.
Rotar, who had clung to my side like gum, was gone. And the First Prince Faction’s spies who would have monitored me day and night the moment I entered the Imperial Palace were nowhere to be found.
If someone wanted to contact me in secret, now was the perfect opportunity—and that’s precisely when the Archbishop’s note arrived.
Next time we met, I’d grab that old man by the collar and shake him until he revealed the secret to his stalking prowess.
Already dreading what awaited, I unfolded the note.
The paper was filled with the expected verbose sermon—the complete opposite of Rotar’s brief, concise messages.
「Elise, Pelmira in heaven watches your worthless transgressions. Return to the Grand Cathedral at once and assist the Church in its duties, lest you…」
Even reading it on paper made my ears burn.
I scanned the Archbishop’s note quickly, my brow furrowed.
In short, it was telling me to stop my foolish ways and return to the Grand Cathedral.
「You need not come with Prince Rotar. However, instead of going to the Imperial Palace, you must come to the Grand Cathedral. If you don’t, you’ll surely have cause for regret!」
I handed the Archbishop’s note to Wolfgang.
He read it and his lips curled into a slow smile.
“What do you make of it? What does he think he knows?”
Wolfgang returned the note to me and replied.
“Well, it could be one thing or another.”
“Ha, that’s certainly helpful advice.”
“Whether the Archbishop knows anything or not hardly matters. Isn’t it natural that something happens at the Imperial Palace? Even a passing Belgrum could say as much.”
That was true enough.
If the Archbishop truly wanted to threaten or counsel me properly, he should have revealed more information.
He clearly still remembered me as the Elise of the past—helpless and spineless.
‘How foolish.’
I nearly tore the Archbishop’s note to shreds but stopped myself.
One never knew when such things might prove useful. Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, I ordered Wolfgang to keep it safe.
I thought all necessary messages had arrived by then. I was preparing to leave the inn when—
“Your Highness, the Princess Consort.”
Clara and Hilda appeared in the parlor with another note, their expressions decidedly grim.
“Frederike sent a messenger bird.”

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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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