Please Die, Your Highness - Chapter 66

The young fellow spoke mockingly to the pale and aghast Craig. The merchant carriage departed just like that, leaving Craig stranded in that spot.

Craig stared up blankly at a single flickering light atop that high fortress. Before long, the loud sound of galloping hooves was heard.

A man wearing heavy armor was at the lead. Judging by the full-body armor, he was likely someone of at least the rank of a border guard captain. Who was it? Craig desperately tried to recall the face and name.

Soon, several horses carrying men surrounded him as he sat there. A soldier standing behind the lead man held up a torch and thrust it toward him. It vividly illuminated his face, made haggard by the poor treatment of late, and his clothes, which were smeared white in places with chicken droppings. Craig clenched his teeth, feeling utterly humiliated.

Soon, the one in the lead removed his heavy helmet to reveal his face. It was a face he had seen a few times at banquets. But what was his name?

“A familiar face,”

The man said, as if muttering to himself while looking down at Craig.

“Why is the one who departed escorting the Prince Declan here?”

He asked this instead of waiting for Craig’s answer.

Craig’s treatment became at least better than before. They gave Craig clean new clothes to change into and provided him with enough water to drink his fill and a hearty meal. Craig devoured it all like someone who had been starving for days.

The border guard captain, Sir Wilun, watched Craig silently as if observing him, only speaking occasionally to order more food to be brought out.

He did not pry into this or that. It was a good thing. For now, Craig wanted to fill his hungry stomach and sleep peacefully for the first time in a while.

After finishing his meal, Craig went straight into the guided room and fell into a deep sleep. He continued to sleep just like that until broad daylight the next day. It was only when it was past noon that he woke to the sound of knocking on the door. A young soldier from the outside delivered the message that Sir Wilun was looking for him.

Craig irritably kicked off the covers and stood up. Damn it, he thought they might leave him in peace for at least a day!

“Someone has arrived from the castle,”

Sir Wilun said abruptly after calling him in.

“Someone? Who? Surely the King himself didn’t come in person.”

Sir Wilun stared intently at Craig with a hardened face at his insolent attitude and crooked tone.

“Of course not. Instead, the King has sent his attendant.”

“……Who are you talking about? Wait, where are you going?”

“They requested to meet with you in private, so I am leaving.”

Sir Wilun stood up, opened the door, and left, as if he no longer wished to exchange words with Craig.

Craig sat on the sofa, stunned. The King at the castle had sent an attendant directly to him. This was unwelcome news in its own right.

The anxious future he had been turning over in his mind ever since being kicked out by the Prince Declan had become a reality. Now, Craig had to face interrogation from the attendant who had come on behalf of the King as to why he had returned alone. And he had to plead his case while providing an excuse sufficient to avoid punishment.

Craig began to calmly sketch out the scenario he had written and erased in his head numerous times. He had absolutely no intention of confessing with his own mouth that he had acted rashly, leading the Prince Declan to discover his true plan. He would claim that the Prince Declan had gone mad. He would assert that the Prince Declan had suffered from hallucinations and auditory illusions due to that medicine, and then, seized by a fit of paranoia, ordered those other fellows to cast him out.

How could he have possibly dealt with those mercenary bastards in such a physical state? He was prepared to plead his case with tears. When he heard the sound of the door opening, Craig steeled his heart once more and looked toward the door with solemnity.

The person who entered was, of all people among the King’s attendants, Mavolo. He was a man of a glib tongue who, despite originally being more insignificant than Craig, had luckily secured the position of the King’s chief attendant.

As Craig sprang up from his seat, Mavolo gestured with his chin with a haughty face.

“Sit down. There is no need to be so glad to see me.”

“……Glad? Glad, you say? Do you know who made me look like this……”

“Why did you return alone? The disappointment the King feels toward you is at an unspeakable level. He ordered me to find out the reason by any means necessary.”

“…….”

Craig trembled where he sat. Of all the people, to think it had to be this fellow!

To think he had to tell his humiliating story to this man!

“Speak. Why did you abandon your master and return alone?”

“It wasn’t that I abandoned him; he abandoned me! Can’t you tell by the fact that he ordered those damn barbarians to dump me here?”

Regardless of whether Craig was huffing and puffing, Mavolo sipped the tea placed before him and stroked his mustache as if grooming it.

Craig belatedly remembered his own beard, which was bound to be a mess since it hadn’t been cared for in a long time. He pulled his shoulders in as if shrinking and glared at Mavolo defensively.

“That is why I am telling you to explain it calmly,”

Mavolo said, crossing his legs arrogantly.

“How you came to be kicked out and ended up in this state, all the way back here.”