Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 57

The morning weather was quite chilly. The water in the stream was also extremely cold; as soon as Prince Declan splashed it on his face, he felt instantly clear-headed. Not only the remnants of sleep but also his dazed mind sharpened instantly.

Prince Declan paused mid-wash and looked at Maeve, who was washing blankets on the opposite bank. The small maidservant had tied up her red curly hair in the meantime. A gentle, cool autumn breeze blew, skimming over Prince Declan’s face once and then shaking the maidservant’s hair on the other side before passing.

Just then, the maidservant, pausing her beating of the laundry, suddenly raised her head and looked at him. Prince Declan was flustered and quickly plunged his face into the water.

Maeve stared blankly at Prince Declan’s behavior. Prince Declan eventually raised his head, stifling a breath. The water that had soaked his hair and face ran down his chin and neck, wetting his clothes.

‘He looks full of energy,’

Maeve thought that, then returned to focusing on the laundry.

“Here you go.”

Maeve held something out toward Prince Declan, who was walking towards her, soaking wet. It was a small handkerchief she carried in her pocket. Despite her internal worry that he might act unusually again now that he was feeling better, Prince Declan accepted it without refusal and used it to wipe his face.

Both of his exposed ears were completely red, but Maeve was not looking at them. The scale behind his ear was sparkling faintly, catching the minimal light.

“How is your condition?”

“Ah, I’m fine. I truly thought I was going to die the day before yesterday… But I actually feel more refreshed than before. I feel somehow healthier.”

Maeve examined Prince Declan’s face closely. It wasn’t the face of someone who was lying. And to her eyes, Prince Declan looked the most vibrant she had ever seen him.

Prince Declan spoke, completely oblivious to what she had done for him the night before.

“Other times, I would be sick for a week, at most. It changed after I left the castle. I get sick briefly and recover quickly. Of course, this time it hurt enough to make me think I was going to die, unlike before.”

All trace of the deathly pallor he had yesterday was completely gone.

Maeve picked up her basket and headed toward the village, looking back. Prince Declan was following closely behind her like a duckling following its mother.

Could a person change so much simply because she stayed by his side when he was sick? No, come to think of it, Prince Declan had been acting unusually familiar with her for some time.

Doesn’t he no longer use that ‘Princely tone’ that sounded like he was being condescending when she first met him? He naturally speaks in the familiar tone that people his age would use, addressing her like a very close acquaintance.

“Since your condition is good, it would be best to depart today immediately. The rain has also stopped.”

“Very well.”

Well, she supposed it was better that he was this oblivious. Maeve, who had been secretly nervous that he might question whether she had done something to his body, decided to be relieved about that for now.

The surroundings were all colored with autumn leaves. Looking all around, everything was red, indicating that they were right in the middle of autumn. A chilly autumn wind brushed past the small woman’s red hair as she walked ahead. Prince Declan watched the ends of her long, curly hair, which resembled the color of the autumn leaves, swaying gently.

The damp tunic fabric clung to his body, sending shivers down his spine. However, his now healthy body was radiating heat, diligently working to regulate its temperature back to normal.

Prince Declan recalled the moment he first saw Maeve, deeply asleep while crouched down, when he woke up. He also remembered her small hand listlessly stroking his cheek. Although it was literally a very listless touch, he felt tears well up as soon as the warmth made contact.

Despite it being only a short time since he had a good cry, Prince Declan felt his nose starting to sting again. He desperately tried to control the rising emotion by pressing the tip of his nose with his fingertip. He had already shown an undignified display, but he didn’t want to behave any more disgracefully.

The maidservant, walking ahead, spoke as if she had sensed his change of heart.

“It’s better this way, actually.”

“What is?”

“That only a few of us are left. Just Prince Declan and us, without all the riff-raff. Instead of increasing our numbers, this might be better. Though it might be a little inconvenient for Prince Declan.”

“No, no. I also think this is better. I actually like this. We can divide the roles, can’t we? I’ll now… do what Fionechta and Rory did. I’m the only one who can handle a sword, after all. I’ll have to take charge of hunting too, I suppose. Though I’m not particularly fond of killing.”

“Yes. I can also teach you how to make traps.”

The maidservant replied as if she had been waiting for that.

“Traps? You know how to make traps? Ah, that is, you said you lived in the woods. Just you and your grandmother?”

“Yes.”

Prince Declan was now more curious about Maeve. She had felt comfortable, and even quite familiar, for some time, but now he was simply curious about everything.

“What did you do before coming to Lutea?”

“Wandering around.”

“And then you settled in Lutea with your grandmother?”

“She isn’t my biological grandmother. She took me in when I was starving, and I just helped her for a few years, learning work while indebted to her.”

The maidservant answered each of his questions quite sincerely, even if she sounded a little bothered.

The more he listened, the more curious Prince Declan became about her past.

“Were you an orphan from birth?”