Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 109

Prince Declan soon brought forth an answer after much agonizing. His plan was to help with the bridge repairs as much as possible for their own sake, but if the water on the path leading to the back receded in the meantime, they would immediately say their thanks to everyone and depart.

He seemed to have reached a compromise with himself to some extent. Maeve agreed with his decision.

That evening, the two found themselves unexpectedly heading toward the high-standing house where the Lord’s Deputy had lived, accompanied by the villagers. It was a wooden house that looked far larger and more luxurious than the others—enough that it could effectively be called a mansion. However, contrary to its warm-looking exterior, the walls were excessively high, and as if that weren’t enough, sharp thorn traps had been installed on every wall, seemingly out of fear that someone might climb over.

“Cowardly bastard. He must have been terrified.”

Various alarm devices appeared more frequently the further they went inside. The village youths, led by Billy, clicked their tongues in disbelief every time they saw the measures the Lord’s Deputy had installed to protect himself from the villagers.

However, even among the few people who had followed them reluctantly, there were several who hesitated just before entering. They wondered what would happen if the Lord’s Deputy had not left for good and were to return.

It was a reaction that was not particularly surprising. Since they had lived consistently receiving work directly from within the Viscount’s castle, they must have always been overwhelmed by public authority. Maeve suspected that the Lord’s Deputy, knowing this side of them, had perhaps intentionally looked down on them while pretending to be more fearless than anyone else.

“If he comes back, he’ll be dead at our hands then.”

Kiaran insisted on following them even though he had injured one arm. He seemed to harbor immense resentment toward the Lord’s Deputy from long before.

Listening to Kiaran’s savage muttering, the people moved steadily into the house. As expected, as if he had decided to escape alone, it appeared he had already taken all the clothing and valuable items with him. Regardless, the people scraped together and collected whatever remained in the mansion. Prince Declan, swept up among them, was awkwardly holding a single fire poker.

Just like the houses in the village, this small mansion was also a building designed and built by the villagers themselves. One of the village youths easily located a hatch leading to the basement, which had been created based on his original idea. The entrance to the hatch was hidden under a carpet in front of the fireplace.

And inside, the people discovered something they had not expected.

A vast amount of wood, enough to last through this winter and even next winter comfortably, was piled up there. Was that all? Solid wood tables and various decorations the villagers had made to supply to the castle were standing in the corners of the basement like troublesome trash.

At this point, Maeve understood why the villagers had become increasingly destitute. At first, they probably received all the goods and paid for them, but as rumors gradually spread that this area was cursed, they likely stopped accepting the goods well. Since they weren’t taking the goods in the first place, they wouldn’t have handed over payments as generously as before.

As if vomiting out their pent-up anger, the people let out curses like screams on the spot, making the basement echo. Maeve looked at the wood piled up as if abandoned. Some of it was already rotting.

Recalling the surrounding forests where every single tree had been cut down, Maeve also began to feel foul.

The search of the Lord’s Deputy’s house and the collection of goods only ended after the sun had set. Before long, Prince Declan was mingling with the villagers, drinking and listening to their lamentations.

Prince Declan seemed truly shocked by this matter. Since it was something he could never have imagined, he seemed all the more appalled. He shared in the villagers’ indignation and sorrow as if the things they had suffered were his own.

Maeve left him to socialize with the villagers and returned to the empty house where they were staying. She immediately lay down on the hard wooden couch near the fireplace. And for the first time in a long while, she slept deeply and comfortably without any vigilance.

“Hello, Maeve.”

Maeve looked up with vacant eyes at the man who was just about to cover her with a blanket. Various parts of her body ached from huddling up to try and sleep comfortably on the hard, cold couch.

“Is it morning soon……?”

“No. It’s still night. I’m sorry for waking you. Sleep more.”

His tone was quiet and kind, and he looked exceedingly cautious. Maeve suddenly looked down at what was held in her hand. One of the man’s hands was caught in hers. By any account, she was the one holding it tightly. It seemed she had reflexively grabbed it when someone touched her in her sleep.

Maeve stared blankly at the man’s large hand held in her own.

“Did I…….”

“Yes?”

“Hold it too hard……?”