The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House - Chapter 89

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

The Villainess Princess Wants to Live in a Pastry Shop
Chapter 89

Asha shot upright. Her mouth fell open.

‘Ah, ha ha, Pibi, I was only joking—if you react like that, it sounds like you’re admitting it’s true…….’

Asha stared at Pibi with her mouth hanging wide open. The chubby chick fluttered about frantically, trying to change the subject, but only managed to squeak and chirp from its beak.
‘Is it true?’

Asha suddenly clapped her hands together as a thought struck her.
‘Kalno’s Spirit grew weak because it used up all its power—could it be? Time Reversal?’

Now the chick had started hiccupping. The sight of Pibi at a loss for words was all the confirmation Asha needed—her guess was true.
‘Is it possible that I’m not here through Possession, that having the memories of this world’s future isn’t some kind of transmigration, but actually Regression? That the real Anastasia’s memories are in me because of that?’
What if she hadn’t been transmigrated into some story she couldn’t even remember the title of—couldn’t even recall if it was a novel or a film—?

Pibi said it firmly, as if there was no room for retreat. Asha’s lips moved soundlessly.
‘The real Anastasia is one and only.’
Those words implied a fake Anastasia existed. A fake. If she existed, then where?
‘If I’m the real one, but there’s a fake somewhere else—could it be that the Anastasia, the Imperial Heir who raced down the highway of villainy…… was the fake?’

Pibi, unable to speak, snapped her beak shut and twisted her body back and forth. Asha felt something suddenly click into place—she hadn’t seen or read about some other world at all, hadn’t been transmigrated into some story at all.
‘The fake must have been Possessed in this body first.’
So the fake had lived that life first, and fragments of her memory remained, which was what Asha had been seeing. Then she had come here. So where had the fake gone? Who was the Prastie that Pibi said she had already dealt with ten years ago?
Valery hadn’t been a decent person to begin with, but the fact that his heart had become so twisted was because of Prastie—so he said. The Imperial Heir Anastasia, who had envied what Alexei possessed and hated it, who had coveted everything while destroying herself with her own actions—then what did those actions actually mean?
As Asha reached to press further, she saw Pibi turn deathly pale, all color draining from the chick, and she fell silent in shock.
‘Pibi?’
Pibi held her beak shut tight, looking up at Asha with a desperate expression. Asha took a moment to calm herself and turned over their previous conversation—which had really been almost entirely her own barrage of accusations—in her mind.
‘If you say it aloud, something terrible happens?’

‘If someone who reversed time reveals the secret, they pay a price? Is that it?’

Pibi clapped her small wings over her own beak and opened her eyes wide. There was a look of wonder in them—as if astonished at how Asha could possibly know such a thing.
‘Because that’s the most common taboo in any world…….’
Asha wracked her brain with an inward sigh. Pibi had reversed time with Kalno’s Spirit, and couldn’t speak of that fact. But she had hinted, in passing, a few times that when the right moment came, she could. Perhaps once a certain time had passed or a specific condition was met, the secret would become unlocked from that point forward.
‘Ah, in novels and things like that, if you slip up and tell the wrong person, real disaster strikes.’
Pibi nodded urgently, her black eyes wide. Asha lowered her hands from her head and took a deep breath.
‘I understand.’

‘That you can’t speak right now. Instead.’

‘If that’s why you can’t talk, then make a noise and go “cheep-cheep” like that.’

‘That way I’ll know—ah, this is a subject I shouldn’t ask about—and I’ll stop asking questions.’

Pibi trembled. Asha laughed. And here Pibi had been squeaking away this whole time, now suddenly embarrassed.
‘Pibi, you reversed time, didn’t you?’

Pibi squeaked sharply, then quickly lowered her voice as if checking herself. Asha watched her for a moment, and a thought occurred to her. She asked quietly.
‘Before you reversed time, there was a lot of sadness, wasn’t there?’

Why had the Spirits needed to reverse time?
Simply because a fake Anastasia had taken this body? That couldn’t be the only reason. There had to have been a reason why a Spirit would risk losing its power, carry such a burden of taboo, and reverse time itself…….
After a brief silence, Pibi opened her beak to whisper.
Chirp… chirp-chirp-chirp.
‘I know, I know.’
Asha stroked Pibi gently, who’d grown a bit dejected. “I’ll tell you next time,” she whispered, and Pibi softly nuzzled the crown of her head against Asha’s palm.

* * *

“Your Highness, Kalno has sent you a small parcel.”
“Hmm?”
Asha, absorbed in a baking manual already published in the empire, lifted her head and blinked. Lis extended a neatly wrapped box toward her.
“It arrived just now. It’s not heavy, though…….”
Asha tilted her head curiously and carefully untied the packaging string. Inside the box lay another small box, no larger than the palm of her hand, along with a single card.

[This is my second letter.
The spirits and pie you sent were delicious. I enclose a token of my appreciation.]

The tone was unusually formal, yet the note was brief, containing only the message itself without a greeting at the beginning or end.
‘Is this even a letter? Shouldn’t I call it a note instead? And what does he mean by “second”?’
She had an inkling of what he meant. Long ago, when Asha was troubled over the matter of an escort to attend a tea party, Kalno had sent a letter calling it his “first.” That had been the first letter between them, though one could scarcely call such a thing a proper letter.
“Kalno said he enjoyed the spirits and the lime pie, and he’s sending something as a token of gratitude. What could it be?”
It seemed the small box inside was his token of appreciation.
“It’s not heavy at all? What on earth could be inside……. Oh.”
“My, how lovely.”
Asha opened the box and smiled. Inside lay two ribbons crafted from delicate sky-blue silk with translucent lace layered atop—clearly made with considerable care and using expensive fabric. It appeared he was sending her new ribbons as a replacement for the Pledge Token she’d given him.
“It seems he learned that you’d lost your ribbon recently.”
“Ah……. Yes, that’s right.”
Too embarrassed to admit that she’d given it to Kalno, she’d told Lis she’d lost it.
“Shall I fasten them for you now?”
Asha nodded. Soon the new ribbons hung from both sides of her hair, shimmering with a soft gleam.

* * *

“Pathetic.”
At the Emperor’s muttering, the Chief Attendant retreated a step further, clearing away the attendants and servants. The Emperor, masking his fatigue, hurled the documents reported to him today onto his desk.
They contained details of Valery’s financial flows and recent activities in dense writing—the movement of funds spent shuttering the magazine and organizing the factory, the gifts distributed to manage the crisis, even his conduct within the household.
It had begun modestly. The news came that insects had been found in products from a small food business Valery had involved himself in. Yet the incident had spiraled into such a cascade that the factory closed and became mired in all manner of scandal—a consequence of the consequences Valery himself had sown in the past.
The years spent oppressing others in pursuit of petty gains; the wasted days squandered trying to draw inferior men to his side; the past misdeeds when he’d been blinded by vanity, desperately seeking to insult his brother and nephew—all of it bloomed into bitter fruit through this incident.
The Emperor could not fathom his son. Why did he endlessly covet what he could not hold, what exceeded his measure? What drove him to repeat such ruinous choices, gnawing at his own substance? Born to the imperial house, living without want, yet why was his appetite never satisfied?
Then a small commotion arose from outside. The Chief Attendant, gauging the Emperor’s mood, stepped out and quickly returned.
“Your Majesty, General Yekaterina has arrived. What shall we do?”
“Yekaterina?”
The Emperor, who had received no word of her visit, furrowed his brow. The Chief Attendant, sensing the Emperor’s unspoken question about whether he had forgotten an appointment, shook his head awkwardly.
“We cannot turn her away for coming without notice. Show her in.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At the Emperor’s gesture, the office door opened, and an elderly woman in a smartly tailored suit, thin yet starched with discipline, appeared.
“Yekaterina.”
“Your Majesty. It has been a long time. Jedo and yourself as well.”
The elderly woman, her hair cut to a crisp chin-length in snow-white tones and her complexion roughened by northern winds, exchanged glances with both the Chief Attendant and the Emperor, her keen eyes bright.
“You remain as you were.”
“Your Majesty has aged considerably.”
The Chief Attendant’s face went pale, but he said nothing to her, merely pretending he had not heard.
“How does Jedo fare? Is it a place where one can live contentedly?”
“It could hardly be better, could it? The air is mild and the people are kind. A bit simple-minded, though.”
General Yekaterina settled into the chair across from the Emperor, sinking her back deeply into the seat back and crossing her legs. The Emperor, in turn, loosened his rigid posture and leaned back in a more relaxed manner. Seeing this, General Yekaterina raised one eyebrow.
“You seem troubled, Your Majesty.”
“It’s always the same worry you and I share.”
The one concern shared by the Emperor in Jedo and General Yekaterina in the North was none other than their children.
“Ah……. Perhaps my burden is lighter since I have only one.”
“General, if you please.”
The Chief Attendant could endure it no longer and gently called out to General Yekaterina. It was a warning to mind her words, but she did not so much as flicker an eyebrow.
“Still, with the Imperial Heir being so keen-minded, what is there to worry about? Your only task, Your Majesty, is to live long until you can pass the throne to him.”
“I’ll return that wish to you instead. You must live long enough to pass the dukedom on to Kalno, my vice commander.”
The two exchanged harsh blessings, each offering the other a single phrase—words that, to anyone else, would be mere well-wishes for long life, but to them were the final duty and task of existence.

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