Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 55

The people of the Colm Continent believed that when they died, they returned to the bosom of the god they believed in. Thus, the Lutea people believed that upon their death, they could find rest under the care of Fionechta, the first king who was the last dragon on earth.

Indeed. The Lutea people firmly believed that their first king died and became a god. Since Fionechta was a legend in his own right, this was treated as an obvious established fact.

Prince Declan was a royal who possessed the qualities to prove his dragon lineage more than anyone. Thanks to this, he lived enjoying the nobility of being a descendant of the dragon more than anyone. His revered ancestor, his very distant parent, and furthermore, the noble god who would look after him continuously.

However, he had no desire to meet him so early in this manner.

He was bursting with the desire to pour out his sorrow, but more than that, Prince Declan wanted to be comforted by his deceased family. He wanted to be held in the arms of his parents, who loved him more than anyone, and hear words like, ‘My son, you must have had a hard time.’ He wanted to cling to them and sob like a child.

What followed the agony and fever throughout his entire body was a terrifying silence. Prince Declan realized that death was lonelier than expected. He never wanted to experience that again.

His whole body felt heavy, as if he had awoken from a long sleep. He could feel strength returning to his fingertips and toes, which had lacked sensation, and above all, it was no longer difficult to exhale a long breath on his own.

The aftermath of almost dying was more pleasant than expected. Prince Declan took comfort in that and suddenly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was freckles.

Prince Declan stared blankly at what was in front of him. Following the freckles, he saw long eyelashes resting above them, and ruffled red curly hair.

“…Ah.”

He finally realized and quietly let out a sigh-like sound.

He had not died.

Even having gone right to the brink of death, he had managed to come back alive. Prince Declan could not believe it. Prince Declan unconsciously reached out his hand towards the face right in front of him. Fortunately, reason warned him not to touch her just before he made contact.

So, he stopped just before touching her. His fingers traced only the empty space above the small brown freckles dotting her nose and cheeks.

He didn’t want to die, just as he had told this maidservant in his final moments. He regretted it. But now that he survived, he wasn’t simply happy. A surge of sorrow and anger that gnawed at his heart welled up from his core. However, he didn’t want to take his anger out on this maidservant as he had before.

How could he possibly take out his anger on this woman who was guarding him until the very end, even though no one else cared to look at him? He couldn’t even complain.

As he watched her quietly, holding his breath, he first noticed the slight rise and fall of the woman’s body. And then, a faint sound like breathing filled his ears. What should he call it? This was an emotion too overwhelming for him to handle.

Prince Declan felt a sense of gratitude towards the maidservant. And more than gratitude, the very existence of this woman was a comfort. He was grateful that she was there, asleep while sitting crouched down to guard his final moments as he was dying, and now giving off an even breath right in front of him as he opened his eyes.

Truly.

…Truly.

The feeling of tears welling up was brief, and Prince Declan unconsciously examined the maidservant who had stayed by his side. The tiny dots sprinkled over her seemingly soft cheek.

The freckles were lovely, and the curly hair that looked like it was just about to fall into her slightly parted lips looked new and fascinating.

Prince Declan carefully moved the fingers that had been meaninglessly tracing the empty air and slightly lifted the hair to move it aside.

At the same time, the maidservant suddenly opened her eyes.

“…”

He didn’t know why he thought that, but Prince Declan instinctively squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.

“…”

Did their eyes meet? Well, he didn’t know. Since he closed his eyes as soon as he saw her eyes, which were a lighter color than the scattered freckles, open wide… perhaps. …Perhaps.

His thoughts could not continue any further. Something small and soft pressed firmly against his cheek. The maidservant’s slender fingers lightly brushed his cheek. He was bewildered by her unreserved action, but when her entire palm soon covered his forehead, any fleeting regret melted away like snow.

The woman unconcernedly pressed and touched his cheek and forehead, as if checking his condition, and finally placed two fingers beneath his jaw to check his pulse.

Prince Declan could not endure it at this point and opened his eyes.

“…Hello.”

The maidservant Maeve, whose two small fingers were pressing firmly against the most vulnerable and delicate flesh of his neck, was not particularly surprised when Prince Declan opened his eyes and spoke to her, and said, “Good morning.”

Her face was as if she had known he would wake up and not die.

“You’ve been next to me all along?”

“Yes. I had to monitor your condition. You asked me to dispose of your body if you died.”

The maidservant replied nonchalantly, withdrawing the fingers she had placed on his neck. Prince Declan felt somehow embarrassed, grateful, and just generally conflicted.

How was he supposed to express this gratitude?

What words should he use to convey how deeply he was touched by her care?

“…I wish you had always been my dedicated maidservant.”