Chapter 63
From the next day, Prince Declan helped the village young men with the task of clearing the blocked road. He was, of course, unable to work as efficiently as the other village young men. His physical strength and muscle power somewhat surpassed men of his age, but fundamentally, he had never performed manual labor before.
Still, the villagers liked him. It was impossible not to find him endearing when someone who looked like a young master from a noble house was so willing to help with village chores to repay their kindness. Even those who had been unwelcoming when Prince Declan’s group first entered the village gradually began to show interest in Prince Declan.
While working together, the villagers cursed Fionechta and Colm, who had betrayed him, on his behalf. Indeed, Fionechta had somehow become a despicable fellow who had abandoned them and left even before Colm.
Maeve let them carry on with their own storytelling that way. On the first day Prince Declan was among the men clearing the road, Maeve paid a visit to the marsh where she had dealt with Fionechta. Surprisingly, Fionechta was not there. It meant he had escaped even with his ankle in that condition.
“Or the marsh might have swallowed his body. Since it kept raining, the marsh would have swollen as well.”
At Maeve’s reporting tone upon her return, Prince Declan could not even feel openly relieved. One corner of his heart still felt uneasy. Maeve looked into his face and said, as if to soothe him:
“If you are worried that he might return, it will be better to depart quickly.”
“Just two more days. There is a large tree stuck right in the middle.”
And when the next day came, Prince Declan, who had set out on the road again with the village young men, discovered that the giant tree in question had been uprooted and was gone. While the village young men buzzed with confusion about what had happened, Prince Declan turned his body and looked back toward the village.
Maeve had done it. Prince Declan became truly curious about just how great her strength was.
“It’s truly strange. I thought it would take at least a week.”
The people who had planned to cut the giant tree into logs and dismantle it slowly laid down the axes they had brought one by one. They focused their efforts back on the task of digging out the earth.
That day’s work ended smoothly. Although the road was not as wide as before, at the very least, it was no longer completely blocked, so the supply of goods from one side would not be entirely cut off.
That night, the villagers held a party to celebrate the fact that a mysterious earth fairy had helped their construction. It seemed they had decided to conclude the debate over who moved the tree in that way.
It was soon evening, and the villagers were half-drunk. Despite two days having passed since the rain stopped, the air was unpleasantly damp. The village paths were also still muddy. Regardless, the people danced with messy steps over the mud and chattered away in their drunkenness.
Maeve sat a distance away, watching them enjoy their small feast. Prince Declan was sitting in the middle of the men, refusing the alcohol they offered. He looked like he fit in quite well. Like someone who had settled there only recently, he was mingling while laughing awkwardly at the men’s jokes.
Maeve’s gaze, which had been scanning with a dry expression, landed on the village women nearby. One of them looked at Prince Declan with sorrowful eyes and quickly lowered her head when her eyes met Maeve’s. Without even being able to look toward Maeve again, she poked a single branch into the fire.
The atmosphere of the feast ripened, and Prince Declan, unable to resist the men’s urging, finally drank about two sips of the thick ale. The taste was surprisingly quite good. It was, of course, incomparable to the wine he drank at the castle, but the way it wrapped around the tongue was quite charming.
Prince Declan then took about one more sip before hearing something whispered in his ear by the men. Then, with a face that was visibly flustered, he parted his lips slightly and looked toward Maeve.
Prince Declan sprang up and walked toward Maeve. Three sips of ale were not enough to intoxicate him. However, he moved toward her slightly unsteadily, as if he were drunk.
“Maeve. ……The people.”
“Yes.”
“……They think we are lovers.”
The woman looked up at him with a disinterested face and handed him a water cup. Prince Declan gulped down the water and sat beside her.
“What on earth is this? An elopement between a prince and a maidservant?”
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