Raising the Princess to Overcome Death-Chapter 310: Beggar Siblings - The Remaining Matters
309: Beggar Siblings - The Remaining Matters
The wedding hall was elegantly adorned, with a field of fully bloomed Leatrice flowers and silken tapestries of both white and red spread across the venue.
In stark contrast, the front garden of Count Peter’s modestly decorated mansion was abuzz with whispers. The nobility of the Kingdom of Bellita, its finest, were murmuring amongst themselves.
The prince and princess, who were thought to be dead.
With war looming against the Kingdom of Aisel, the news of their survival was a bombshell that would shake Orville to its core. Should this information come to light, the Kingdom of Conrad wouldn’t remain idle.
What began as whispers of astonishment gradually turned into political discourse. And with Marquis Benar Tatian, the leader of the royalist faction, present, the murmuring intensified—was it truly wise to leave the siblings unchecked?
The scheming weighed heavily in the air.
Yet, Lean remained unconcerned. His focus was solely on his sister. Wrapping his arm protectively around Lerialia's delicate shoulders, he pressed her with a gentle urgency.
"Is that really what you mean? Are you truly planning to use someone your brother loves like this? Is that... really what you were thinking?"
His voice dripped with disappointment, and Lerialia, startled, lowered her head.
"No, I... that's not what I..."
"Look at me. Don't avert your eyes."
"It’s not like that, it’s just that in my dream... Hic. O-Older brother, I'm scared."
"...My dear sister."
He understood. It was all because of that cursed legacy. Even so, he spoke firmly.
"You've told me many outlandish stories before. I thought it was because I remembered your childhood, when you were a princess. Yes, you are a princess, the princess of the Kingdom of Conrad. But the things you claimed to have dreamed of..."
He spoke with a fervent hope.
"They aren’t real. They never happened, and they never will. They're nothing more than fantasies."
Trusting in his immunity to her influence, Lean dismissed all of her dreams as mere illusions. He intended to banish the fragments of the past that her dreams stirred, to ensure they would never return.
"I hope what you said earlier wasn’t sincere. It's not only wrong, it’s cruel. I’m going to believe that you simply confused your dreams with reality."
"..."
"Step back for now."
At that moment, Jenia approached, her face stiff with tension. Despite wearing a narrow dress, she walked briskly, each stride long and purposeful. Her body trembled with fury. Edlin stood at her side.
"..."
"..."
The two women met each other's gaze, but no words were exchanged. They were both beautifully dressed for the engagement ceremony, but this encounter was far from what either had expected.
To Jenia, the engagement ring on her finger—left by Lean—felt like a shackle. She glared at the man she loved, her eyes filled with resentment.
Then, with a voice heavy with anger, she spoke.
"I greet the prince. And the princess too. Did you both enjoy yourselves?"
"...Jenia."
"Please call me Jenia Peter, Prince Lean de Yeriel."
"This is not what you think."
"I suppose not. I thought you loved me very muChapter Stay away from me."
"It's true I hid my identity."
"So did I. I once told you that we were both 'commoners,' didn't I? You had your reasons for hiding your status, just as I had mine. I won’t blame you for that. But... I told you to stay away from me."
Nevertheless, Lean stepped closer. He was confident that their relationship, their trust, hadn’t broken. He continued speaking.
"But my feelings for you were never hidden. They weren’t a lie."
Lean grasped Jenia’s hand tightly, his touch warm. Jenia’s face twisted with sorrow.
How selfish he was. He always said what he wanted and stirred her heart so easily. She had once loved this about him, but now that she knew he was a prince, her expectations had risen. Pulling her hand away, Jenia spoke.
"I didn’t love you falsely either. I still love you, Lean. But whether I love the prince, I’m not so sure."
She had admired him for his dignity despite being a beggar. It wasn’t Lean de Yeriel, the prince, whom she had fallen for, but the man who approached her with genuine love.
She had meant to strike him with that truth, but Lean, without a moment's hesitation, gave her the answer she secretly desired.
"I love you too. Not Jenia Peter, but the actress who came into my life like fate."
"...You almost sound like you didn’t know I was a noble."
"I didn’t. At least not then."
"And you expect me to believe that?"
The odds of running into a noblewoman in a city like Orville were slim. And the chances that this noblewoman would turn out to be the daughter of a family connected to the Kingdom of Conrad? Even slimmer. What were the odds that a beggar prince would genuinely fall for her?
It was impossible. Unless the prince, harboring ambitions, had approached her with an ulterior motive.
It was an entirely reasonable, logical accusation, but Lean responded with emotion.
"Yes. Please, believe me."
She couldn’t be angry.
Jenia bit her lips, their bright red lipstick smudging. This selfish man refused to let go of his lingering attachment. Turning her gaze towards her mother was the only form of resistance she could muster.
Edlin, after glancing at the prince with a complicated expression, led her daughter away. The guests, watching the scene unfold, realized the engagement was off.
So, the Peter family no longer had ties to the prince and princess. Just as the scale was about to tip in one direction—
"Brother, I can handle thi—"
"Stay quiet."
Lean gently patted his hesitant sister on the head, offering her some comfort before turning to glare at Marquis Benar Tatian. The marquis, however, kept his cautious gaze on Lerialia, seemingly furious.
"Marquis Benar Tatian."
"..."
"You’ve won. I admit I need your help."
"When did you and I ever engage in such a contest, Prince? Your words are quite distasteful."
With a huff, Lean stepped closer to the marquis and spoke in a low voice.
"Perhaps not yet. But soon, Marquis, you’ll find yourself in trouble and come seeking me."
"Me? How curious. I’ve never known trouble in my life, but since it’s you saying this, I’ll look forward to seeing what you mean."
Lean laughed, his tone growing more biting.
"Hahaha! From what you’re saying, it seems you still haven’t figured out why the king made Princess Chloe his pawn, have you?"
"...?"
"Your son, Toton Tatian, will soon find himself in the same predicament as Gilbert Forte. He will fall in love. The king will use your son’s infatuation with the princess to pit you against Count Herman Forte."
The marquis, who had been quietly listening until now, smirked at the suggestion. But Lean didn’t let the opportunity slip.
"You think it’s impossible, don’t you? It’s amusing, isn’t it? You probably find my prediction ridiculous."
"Yes, I understand now. You’re just someone who enjoys stirring the pot. I won’t be seeing you off on your return to your homeland."
The marquis turned coldly, thinking there was no further business to discuss. He began pondering how to handle the strange princess.
“Irene.”
That single word froze him in his tracks.
"She’s an excellent knight, isn’t she? A very useful pawn, in fact."
The marquis could no longer ignore Lean’s words. He turned back around, his gaze sharpening as he locked eyes with the prince.
"...You claimed not to use magic, yet you’ve lied to me, haven’t you?"
Lean shrugged casually.
"Think whatever you like. I’m no mage."
"Then you must be a sorcerer. How do you know about Irene? About her relationship with my son, no less?"
"What you really want to know is how I found out that you’re aware of it. A sorcerer, huh... Hahaha! Not even they could peer into someone’s mind like that."
"Answer the question. Depending on your response, I might decide not to let you leave here alive."
Lean chuckled, as if amused by the marquis’ threats.
"I never imagined you of all people would ask me that. Let’s pretend I didn’t hear it."
"..."
The marquis stayed silent, contemplating the cryptic conversation. Meanwhile, Lean’s thoughts turned to Jenia, silently thanking her for the valuable information she’d provided.
It was clear that the marquis knew of Irene’s unrequited love for his son. During the ninth timeline, when Lean had tried to assassinate Toten Tatian, the marquis had inserted Irene into the situation, foiling the plan.
What a twisted hobby—manipulating people’s feelings for his own gain.
Surely, the marquis also knew that his son harbored some feelings for Irene. That’s why Lean’s prophecy about Toten falling for Princess Chloe must have sounded laughable to him.
But Lean had simply turned the marquis’ schemes back on him.
Having piqued the marquis’ interest once again, Lean calmly wrapped up their conversation. Leaning in, he whispered into the marquis’ ear.
"Let’s wait a few days. Something will happen within a week, I promise. Until then, I leave it in your capable hands."
With that, he and his sister quietly slipped through the throng of murmuring nobles. Yet, despite the verbal victory, Lean couldn’t relish it.
The engagement was in ruins.
He could mend his relationship with Jenia in time, but the fact remained that the long-awaited engagement had fallen apart. And now his sister's head hung low like a guilty child... The carriage jostled as it rolled forward.
"...Brother. I-I'm sorry. I was wrong."
Lerialia’s tears streamed down like raindrops, large and heavy. She must have been deeply shaken by Jenia breaking off the engagement.
Lean wondered for a moment if this was yet another act, but quickly dismissed the thought, feeling guilty.
Do I really have to treat my sister with the same cold calculation I use against the likes of Marquis Tatian?
Of course, if Lerialia started to waver again, he’d reprimand and correct her as needed, but when it came to his sister, he always wanted to be sincere.
Lean didn’t want to approach his sister with a strategy of "If she turns out like this, I’ll do that, and if she turns out like that, I’ll do this." Instead, he shifted closer and pulled her into a comforting embrace. Her back was still so small, and he gently patted it.
The carriage, carrying a tearful Lerialia, made its way toward the Rauno family’s mansion.
He offered her a candy (one he’d taken from Ober), soothing her as he said,
"You can’t do that again, alright? Promise me."
After wiping away her tears, Lerialia hesitated for a while longer before muttering another apology and dashing off to find Santian Rauno. Lean felt a pang of sadness.
Regardless of whether he reconciled with Jenia and restored their relationship, he knew he couldn’t stay in Orville for long.
Too many people had learned of his true identity. The local nobility was troublesome, and the mental sparring with Marquis Benar Tatian had a limit. It was only a matter of time before his older brother, Eric de Yeriel, learned that both he and his sister had survived—and there was no telling how he would react.
It was early autumn now, and there was still a long way to go before Rev would reach the Conrad Kingdom.
All in all, it seemed best to leave Orville soon. There was no benefit in staying close to Astroth any longer.
‘Yes. I’ll leave. Anywhere will do. But before that, there’s something I need to take care of.’
It was time to meet the "Beggar with the Broken Arm," whom he had been putting off for so long.
He’d already met the prince of the Aisel Kingdom and confirmed how the {war} would break out. There was no need to worry about Gilbert Forte, as long as Lena didn’t go to the capital’s church.
He had also seen Katrina, freed from her shackles... Now, all that was left was one final meeting with Cassia.
As he contemplated his future plans, Lean looked down at the peaceful Rauno family estate below. Surprisingly, it was still the middle of the day.
.
!
Chapter 310: Beggar Siblings - The Remaining Matters
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