Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 27

Maeve had no intention of getting deeply involved in the Prince’s affairs.

Part of it came from the natural aversion she felt toward his kind, but that wasn’t the only reason.

Without a doubt, the Prince was the type who would become bothersome the closer one got to him.

The more familiar he became, the more troublesome he would grow — a textbook example of someone who would mistake closeness for comfort and become a nuisance. Maeve judged him that way.

Even so, the only reason she turned back and made that suggestion to the Prince was simply that he looked a little pitiful.

It must have been because he had poured out his story to her without being asked.

Throughout listening to his tale, Maeve thought that perhaps she could understand not only Craig but also the brother he spoke of.

At the same time, she found the Prince both pathetic and pitiable.

Was there truly no one who would speak the truth to him? That not a single person had honestly told him about his changed circumstances?

That was why, though he seemed foolish, she couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him.

Moreover, hearing him sniffle in the bath, he had seemed a little lonely.

Perhaps because he overlapped slightly with who she once had been.

When she was young — trapped in luxury, knowing nothing of the outside world — he faintly reminded her of that version of herself.

In any case, instead of rejecting Maeve’s impulsive offer born of such complicated feelings, the Prince accepted it as if he had been waiting for it all along.

Then he asked her to step outside so he could change. Following his request, Maeve closed the door and waited just outside, standing steadfastly like a knight waiting to escort his princess.

Soon the door opened, and the Prince emerged, wrapped from head to toe in a long cape.

Prince Declan spotted her waiting right in front of the door and, feeling somewhat awkward, cleared his throat needlessly.

“…Come to think of it, you’ve now seen me naked twice.”

Trying to ease his inexplicable embarrassment, Declan blurted out such a remark.

“I only saw your butt just now.”

At the maid’s unbothered reply, Declan immediately regretted saying anything at all.

Whether he stood there frozen with his face flushed red or not, Maeve walked past him toward the stairs and jerked her chin, motioning for him to hurry up.

She jerked her chin — daring to treat him like one would a dog.

The maid was still disrespectful. Each time her usual unrefined behavior slipped out, she appeared shockingly rude and uneducated.

Yet Declan followed her without a single reprimand. Compared to Craig, who spoke politely and bowed only before him, the maid — who hid nothing — was far easier to deal with.

Why was that? Was it because she had listened to everything he said with that indifferent expression? Or because, though rude beyond belief, she had reached out to him at just the right moments?

Maeve, unaware that her simple invitation to go out had sent Declan spiraling into such thoughts, walked two steps ahead of him again.

“Are you hungry?”

“…No, I’ve had enough of the food here.”

The two passed by the dining hall on the first floor and headed toward the entrance. When they opened the door, the outside was already dim and shadowed. Maeve took a small lantern from a man standing nearby.

Raising the lantern high, she gave him another chin gesture — signaling that they should go.

The stone-paved road was still damp, likely because it had rained the previous day. The nearby dirt paths were the same.

Without looking back at him, Maeve told him to walk only on the stones if he didn’t want to ruin his boots. Prince Declan obediently did as she said, stepping only on the stones as he followed closely behind her.

After sunset, Ballinoor was even livelier than it had been under the midday sun when they had first arrived. The streets bustled as if everyone had poured out of the buildings, and each person they passed reeked of strong alcohol.

For Declan, who had grown accustomed only to the stiff life within the castle as a prince, it was quite a shock.

When night fell in Lutea, he would immediately bathe with the servants’ assistance and prepare for bed. Except for the guards who stood watch, everyone else tended to sleep early.

Once they left the inn and turned toward the marketplace, an even larger crowd came into view. People dressed in a variety of clothes gathered in groups, chatting noisily, while others sat alone in corners, drinking.

Though it was already a dim night lit only by the moonlight, people seemed as lively as if it were midday. To them, this was their daytime.

Between the faint moonlight, yellow torches were scattered here and there, making the view somewhat dizzying.

Moreover, the farther they went in, the denser the crowd became. Declan tried to hold Maeve’s arm so as not to lose her, but the hand he unconsciously reached out with was coldly brushed away.

“Ah, sorry. I was just afraid I might lose you.”

Even amid the confusion and noise, Declan felt embarrassed as he said that. The maid looked at him with expressionless eyes that glimmered yellow, then silently lifted her sleeve.

Declan grasped the sleeve she offered and followed her inside.

Maeve led him deep into the heart of the market. The deeper they went, the more savory scents began to fill the air.

Soon, she spotted a street stall nearby selling freshly baked bread. Maeve pulled a coin from her pouch and handed it to the gray-haired old vendor.

Declan, who had been walking while only staring at her back, blinked in surprise when something white was suddenly extended toward him. Steam rose from it. He belatedly realized it was bread and quickly took it.

“It’s hot.”