Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Translation: godsn
Did the princess just strike the Head Maid's shin?
Even seeing it with her own eyes, she couldn't believe it.
The maids hastily bowed their heads, afraid of being caught in the crossfire, but their minds were utterly blank with shock.
"Kgh......"
A pained groan escaped through the Head Maid's clenched lips.
Though she was a commoner, she had been raised delicately without ever soiling her hands. She had never experienced such violence before.
"Jena."
"Y-yes?!"
Amidst everyone's astonishment, only the princess remained composed.
"Don't mind me. You may continue."
"......"
Jena's mind went numb. Was she next after the Head Maid?
"I said continue. The punishment must not lose its severity. I have no intention of encroaching upon the Head Maid's authority."
But Jena could no longer wield the whip as fiercely as before. Seeing even the formidable Head Maid struck down had shaken her resolve.
Thwack.
The whip sliced through the air with far less force than before,
Swish—!
while the switch danced with even greater ferocity.
Unlike Jena, Medeia showed no hesitation in her actions.
As Jena slowed, torn between watching the Head Maid and the princess, the rhythm became unbalanced—one lash of the whip now met with three strikes of the switch.
Yet the princess paid no mind to the uneven exchange.
"Ugh......"
Neril's groans grew louder under the weakened lashes, but the princess continued without so much as blinking.
"Aaagh—!"
Finally, the Head Maid could endure no longer and collapsed.
"Head Maid—!"
As the maids rushed forward, Medeia raised a hand. They froze mid-step.
"Stand up."
Her tranquil voice sent chills down their spines, as if the sight of the Head Maid's bloodied, crimson shins meant nothing.
With an eerily expressionless face, Medeia calmly picked up the switch again.
"I—!"
Then, the Head Maid fell to her knees. She could bear the beating no longer.
Her legs burned as if on fire. Her mind blurred, driven solely by the instinct to escape the pain.
"I... I yield. Please... have mercy."
The Head Maid had finally surrendered.
Before everyone's eyes.
By day's end, the entire palace would know of this. The taste of blood and thick humiliation seeped through her bitten lips.
As she glared with murderous intent, the fingers gripping the switch twitched again.
"Y-Your Highness. Please—!"
The words burst out unbidden. Hunched shoulders. A bowed head and lowered gaze.
Nothing could be more humiliating.
"......"
Instead of answering, Medeia released her grip. As if declaring the punishment over, she snapped the switch in two.
Crack. The sharp sound pierced everyone's ears.
The princess's gaze turned to Jena.
"Bring Neril here."
"Yes!"
Jena jumped as if scalded, hastily discarding the whip.
"We return to the palace."
"You'll... regret this."
The Head Maid glared up at Medeia with venomous eyes.
"Perhaps."
That remained to be seen.
With those quiet words, the door closed.
"Leave us."
As the princess's quarters came into view, Medeia commanded. Jena, who had been watching nervously, bowed respectfully before scurrying away like a frightened rabbit.
"Your Highness, why......"
Neril, regaining her senses, struggled to steady her staggering body but couldn't hide her concern.
"Lean on me."
The authoritative tone from earlier was gone, replaced by the voice of the young princess Neril knew.
"The Head Maid... she holds sway over the palace. She'll surely... seek revenge against you. Even now... I should go back and smooth things over... Kgh......"
Medeia grasped Neril's shoulder. The blood soaking her clothes stained Medeia's hand as well.
"I'm sorry."
A single transparent tear traced down her pale cheek.
In her past life, Neril must have died like this.
Trying to protect her, refusing to leave her side—only to be struck down by their schemes.
Unaware, Medeia had resented Neril, believing she had abandoned her irresponsibly, deceived by her enemies' words.
"...Your Highness?"
"It's my fault. Because of me... you......"
Neril was bewildered.
She didn't realize that the unspoken word in that silent pause was "death."
"Neril, I'm sorry for not recognizing you, for being so foolish."
She couldn't possibly know that Medeia's apology carried the weight of lifetimes worth of regret.
"Why did you just take the beating? You should've fought back at least. Where was that knightly pride of yours?"
Neril only offered an awkward smile.
Medeia knew the reason too. Neril hadn't wanted to give them another excuse to drive her away from the princess's side.
"Don't do that again. Just give them what they want next time. If you'd said you'd leave my side, they would've let you go quietly."
"...I couldn't... possibly do that. I must serve Your Highness... Where else... would I go?"
Medeia held Neril tighter.
Neril, why didn't I realize that in this vast royal palace, there was you who cherished me? That Pelleus had tried to protect me?
Why did I think everyone hated me?
Another teardrop fell.
As the moisture shimmering in those jade-green eyes traced a path down translucent skin, the sight pierced the viewer's heart with sorrowful anguish.
"This will never happen again. I promise."
"Your Highness, please... don't cry..."
Neril was at a loss. She failed to notice how strangely resolute the young girl's voice had become.
'My liege.'
The princess had saved her again.
She would never forget that small, vulnerable back that had shielded her.
Neril averted her gaze to hide her reddening eyes as she spoke.
"But... please don't do this again. Your Highness might get hurt. I... I can protect myself..."
"That's not very convincing coming from someone in your state."
"Your Highness..."
"Let's go. You need treatment first."
Neril, failing to notice the princess hadn't actually agreed, grew more anxious even as she felt deeply apologetic.
'If they dare lay a single finger on Her Highness, I'll protect her with everything I have.'
District 2 of Valdina's capital.
At the innermost part of this affluent neighborhood where high-ranking nobles and the wealthy resided stood a white mansion.
A structure boasting exquisite yet beautiful aesthetics with blooming rose vines embracing its white stone walls.
But the walls were built so high that even when outsiders craned their necks, they could barely glimpse a rose or two.
With no visitors in sight and the mansion's owner absent, several bold burglars attempted to scale the towering walls.
Many entered, but none returned.
Rumors spread. The owner of the white mansion was a famous arms merchant who traveled the continent, commanding a fearsome mercenary band like they were his limbs.
Only then did people nod in understanding. And no one ever wondered about the mansion's interior again.
"Gods. Do you know what I just read?"
Third floor of the white mansion.
Beneath the sunniest window, Gallo waved a piece of parchment.
His handsome features were offset by the sword scar on his cheek, giving him a wild yet roguish charm.
His curly straw-colored hair and beautifully tanned bronze skin seemed more suited to sun-scorched beaches than chilly Valdina.
"Boss, piping hot news from Valdina's royal palace! The Head Maid got switched by the princess. Can you believe it?"
Gallo kept glancing at the parchment while cackling.
"Seems she tried to arbitrarily dismiss the princess's maid. Since she was once the Royal Guard captain's disciple, the Regent's faction must've found her troublesome. Anyway, when the princess found out, she came swinging a switch. Quoting some ancient royal law and everything."
"......"
"So the Head Maid's cronies whip the princess's maid, then the princess whips the Head Maid. Until the Head Maid threw up both hands and surrendered first! Ahahaha!"
Gallo laughed uproariously, nearly toppling his chair backwards.
The young man who'd been studying a continental map looked up.
Jet-black hair and a straight nose bridge. Eyes that glittered yet held a cold chill within their depths.
His clear gaze was too pristine to permit even a speck of dust, more fitting for a youth.
Yet for someone so young, his well-defined muscular frame and the arrogant gaze that seemed to look down on the world carried a strangely sensual quality.
The man's gently upturned lips and sharp jawline looked as if meticulously sculpted by a master carver.
"Valdina has a princess?"
One corner of the man's eye twitched slightly upward.