Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 61

Maeve stared intently at Prince Declan with a face that looked quite indifferent at a glance. The way he was slumped on the ground made him look like a child who was merely large in stature. Meanwhile, as he looked up at her with tearful eyes, her conscience pricked for no reason.

Maeve finally spoke honestly.

“It might be because of me. Before he made a run for it, there was a bit of a… conflict with me.”

“Did you hit him?”

Prince Declan asked, no longer even looking particularly surprised.

“No. I just intimidated him.”

“As if you were going to hit him?”

“…I don’t just hit anyone recklessly. He was just being cranky with me, so I only said a few words as a warning not to treat me carelessly.”

As Maeve spoke with a sigh, she felt Prince Declan, who had been slumped down, staring intently at her. No words came out to shift the blame onto her as if he had been waiting for the chance. Prince Declan looked toward the distance with a face lost in thought for a moment, then said this to her.

“It’s alright, Maeve. Seeing how he ruined the carriage, he was the kind of fellow who would have caused trouble eventually even if it wasn’t because of you, unable to control his own temper. It’s better this way.”

“That fellow took everything. Just what was loaded in the baggage wagon was enough food to eat for more than a week.”

Despite trying to act composed, Prince Declan could not answer, his throat tightening.

Maeve stared at him with an inscrutable expression. Then, she held out her hand to him.

“…May I take it?”

“Yes. Because you are slow, Prince Declan.”

“I’ve never heard such a thing. I’m on the rather fastidious side.”

“Yes. You are that too.”

Instead of giving a detailed explanation, Maeve waited for Prince Declan to reach out his hand. Soon, Prince Declan hesitated, then placed his large hand atop the small palm of the maidservant. Before he could feel slightly awkward about the difference in hand size, the maidservant lightly pulled him to his feet.

“…….”

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment. Then Maeve looked off into the distance with a face lost in thought.

Prince Declan waited for Maeve to speak first. He thought she might say something like, Since things have turned out this way, let’s just go back. Unlike him, who could not return to Lutea no matter what happened, she had more than enough reason to return to Lutea.

Prince Declan lowered his head with a complicated face. Now, he couldn’t even confidently bring up words like how he would give her a generous reward once things went well, as he had before. Especially after showing such pathetic displays recently.

“…Let’s go back.”

Soon, the words he expected flowed from the maidservant’s small lips. Prince Declan smiled bitterly.

“I can’t go back. You know that.”

The maidservant, who had approached the donkey and was stroking its head, looked over at him nonchalantly and replied.

“To the village elder’s house. We can’t stay here forever, can we?”

“…Ah.”

Prince Declan felt a bit sheepish. He soon headed toward the brown stallion that Fionechta used to ride, following the direction of Maeve’s gaze.

As he drew near, the horse snorted dismissively and let out a threatening whinny. Amidst this, Prince Declan glanced around to see if Maeve had witnessed even the horse ignoring him.

However, Maeve was already leading the donkey down the hill. Prince Declan hurriedly grabbed the horse’s reins and followed after her.

The horse, which had been pointlessly stubborn, soon followed him with a sluggish, reluctant gait.

It was still early morning, not even midday yet. The damp autumn breeze after the rain caused the red hair of Maeve, who was walking ahead, to flutter gently.

Prince Declan fixed his gaze upon it with a look as if he were entranced.

“Prince Declan, you were right,”

The maidservant walking ahead said.

“About what?”

“About Colm. He stole everything and ran away.”

Recalling their earlier argument, Prince Declan felt his face grow hot again.

“You are the one who was right, Maeve. I shouldn’t have trusted anyone.”

Maeve turned back toward Prince Declan for a moment with a peculiar expression. Prince Declan had accurately grasped the point of that childish argument. In a way different from Prince Declan, Maeve was somewhat unskilled in communicating with people her own age.

Maeve pondered how to respond, then looked forward again and spoke.

“…The only one you can trust is yourself. You live in this world alone.”

“But that seems a bit sad and lonely. Can’t we at least be friendly while we can depend on each other?”

Maeve continued walking without looking back. This was because she could clearly imagine his expression even without seeing it.