Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 64

“I didn’t invent it quite so explicitly. I simply left room for people to imagine things as they pleased.”

“That’s the same thing! That a prince of a small nation ran away with a maidservant because he didn’t want to marry his fiancée. That the servants and knights we brought all abandoned us out of fear of the king’s retaliation, and……”

“And that the prince and the maidservant are heading west toward the land where the prince’s uncle serves as lord, just as planned.”

Rather than being embarrassed, Prince Declan stared at Maeve in disbelief as she reeled off the story as if reciting a novel.

“Was there no excuse a bit more plausible?”

“Several people had already heard me calling you ‘Prince Declan.’ I’m sorry the excuse that came to mind spontaneously sounded like typical fairytale content. Those are the only things I’ve read.”

Prince Declan looked at Maeve with a dazed face.

“No matter how much I thought about it, that was the only reason I could think of for continuing the journey despite being in this situation.”

“……Ah, right.”

“I didn’t openly say that you and I were lovers.”

“I know. But you implied it.”

“If you feel bad about it, go ahead and correct them.”

“I don’t feel bad. It’s just that even if it’s a fabricated story, it’s not good to have such a scandal attached to you.”

Maeve looked at Prince Declan as if she were seeing something strange.

“We are leaving here tomorrow morning. We’ve only seen these people for a few days, so why care about a reputation?”

“No, I meant you……. Forget it.”

Prince Declan gave up on explaining and snapped his head away. A prince and a maidservant on the run. Just as Maeve suspected, people had an abundance of imagination. And sometimes, that overflowing imagination caused people to cast unkind gazes at the wrong person. Like a maidservant who seduced a prince with a bright future.

However, since she herself was so nonchalant, he felt a bit ridiculous for being the only one worried. Prince Declan finished drinking the water with a displeased face.

Then, he finally raised his head as if he had thought of something.

“……That’s true. It would be better to be careful with titles in front of others from now on. It’s better not to have the status of a prince of a nation discovered.”

“Yes.”

“Then, from now on, it would be better to call me something else when others are around. What would be good?”

Prince Declan fell silent with a face lost in serious contemplation. Maeve stared at his profile as if spectating, her face showing no sign of agony as if it were someone else’s business.

“How about pretending to be siblings?”

“We don’t look alike at all.”

“We can just insist on it.”

“If there were even a slight resemblance, I wouldn’t say anything. We don’t look alike in a single place. Anyone can see we are people who grew up in entirely different environments.”

“Say we were separated at birth.”

Prince Declan felt a bit sheepish, as even he found what he just said absurd. Maeve did not laugh. She didn’t even make a show of smiling, to the point of making him feel embarrassed. She just stared at him with an expressionless face.

“It is better to go with what I made up. Since Prince Declan looks like someone who was raised delicately in a noble place no matter how one looks at him. Let’s just change your status a little. You are the son of a noble, and I am a maidservant working in that house.”

“……Alright. Then, instead of Prince Declan……”

“Lord Declan.”

“…….”

“Do you want to create a pseudonym?”

Maeve asked as if tossing the question nonchalantly toward him, who remained silent.

Her eyes glowed yellow, catching the light from a nearby candle. Prince Declan watched them and then spoke.

“Doesn’t that seem too stiff? Why don’t you try calling me something a bit more affectionate? We are lovers, after all.”

“That is strictly a potential setup.”

“Anyway, it’s too stiff. We don’t look close at all. It feels too much like a master-servant relationship.”

“We are in a master-servant relationship.”

“But it’s a special master-servant relationship.”

Sensing that there would be no end if this continued, Maeve rolled her eyes.

“Declan.”

At the name that finally flowed lowly from her lips, Prince Declan gazed at her intently. Without answering, he even leaned his chin on his hand and looked at her with expectant eyes as if telling her to try again.

“……Deco.”

“…….”

“D. ……Decky.”

“Decky. I like it. Let’s go with that.”

When the permission finally fell, Maeve laughed in disbelief. It was because she wondered why she was playing along with this rhythm.

The prince was, in many ways, fastidious, willful, and a bothersome character. Yet, strangely, he did not seem hateful. Perhaps that was why the villagers, who hadn’t seen him for long, mingled with him without hesitation.

Maeve looked at the man—whose appearance made people feel as if they wouldn’t even dare to speak to him—as if she were slowly appreciating him.

“Then, shall I call you ‘Eve’?”

The brief moment that had almost softened shattered as if it had never existed.

“I hate it.”

As soon as the next morning arrived, Prince Declan and Maeve packed their belongings as scheduled and prepared to leave. An old baggage wagon was already waiting in front of the village elder’s house.

This was because one of the kind villagers, a man who had particularly become close with Prince Declan, had volunteered to take them as far as he could go. The man said he made a living by hauling livestock tools made by the villagers to sell in outer towns and buying goods to bring back. Regardless, it was a welcome favor.

Fionechta’s horse was already taking its place at the back of the wagon alongside the donkey. The brown stallion kept snorting as if it were displeased to be walking side by side with the donkey.

Prince Declan and Maeve took their luggage and sat inside the empty baggage wagon. Since it was an early hour, only the village elder came out to see them off. Prince Declan expressed his gratitude to the old man with sincerity, embraced his withered body in farewell, and then sat back inside.

The baggage wagon began to depart. Maeve was seen opening a bag she had obtained from the village and counting the potions and her few belongings. Prince Declan was touching Fionechta’s greatsword, which Maeve had gifted to him.

It still didn’t feel familiar in his hand. But from now on, he had to practice so that it would become familiar.