Raising the Princess to Overcome Death-Chapter 332: Beggar Siblings - Half-Cousin
331. Beggar Siblings - Half-Cousin
"Hello. This is my first time meeting you, Uncle. My name is Diallo Brina."
The prince had brought a guest along with him.
Bretin Sauer, thinking, "A guest bringing another guest?" felt irritated as he went down to greet them, but froze in place as he reached the hallway outside the parlor.
This was his cousin—of similar age, yes, but technically his nephew.
Their family connection was only five degrees apart, a very close relation, so he ought to have greeted him warmly. However, Bretin didn't even bother with a nod.
Instead, he stood by the door and spoke icily.
"Leave at once. Your Highness, I cannot accept this guest."
With that, he turned to leave. But Diallo, in a hurry, rose from his seat and called after him.
"Wait, please! I know that things haven't been smooth between you and my grandaunt. But isn't it all old history now? That was over fifteen years ago, and you’re a baron now. There’s no need to be so dismissive, is there?"
"…Ha!"
Bretin exhaled sharply, clearly amused at the request. Clenching his teeth, he looked as if he wanted to shoot back a biting remark but chose to walk away instead.
With the host having dismissed them and gone, the guests left behind stood awkwardly, uncertain of what to do.
"Perhaps we should move somewhere else?"
Lean, who had anticipated this might happen, stepped in to manage the situation. Baron Sauer had seemed somewhat out of sorts from the first moment they'd met.
After leaving the manor, they made their way to a small restaurant in the village. It was a bit shabby for a prince’s taste, but Lean didn’t mind at all. Rera leaned over to whisper to Ray.
"Kind of down-to-earth for a prince, isn't he? But hey, how did you even meet him? You never told me."
"Well—when I was in Barnaul, we met."
"Barnaul? You've been to the capital? Since when?"
"What are you talking about? I was born there… oh. Let’s talk about this later. Excuse me! What’s on the menu here?"
"???"
Ray quickly changed the subject, and the four of them sat down at a square table.
"This complicates things," Lean sighed. "Ray here said things would go smoother with you along…"
"I… I apologize."
Diallo Brina looked very disappointed. He had hoped to profit as a middleman in trade between the Brina and Sauer baronies.
"I didn’t think my uncle would still be holding a grudge over something so long ago. I’m at a loss for what to do."
"What exactly happened back then?"
"Nothing much, really. Just the usual rivalry for status," Diallo replied, clearly uneasy. "The whole affair supposedly involved the baron’s birth mother passing away and the king’s intervention, but… well, don’t these things happen all the time? For everyone, our personal troubles feel unfair, and they seem huge."
He placed particular emphasis on the last part, thinking how his own birth order had left him feeling slighted. Giving up his own barony had cost him dearly in both patience and sacrifices.
In the end, only the outcome mattered.
Diallo couldn't understand why Bretin, who had already gained the title of baron, would still dwell on past grievances. Meanwhile, Lean pressed him further, still unsatisfied.
"Hmm… and yet, it seems like the baron’s been drinking himself into a stupor every day. Do you know why?"
"Not at all. I could ask my grandaunt to recount what happened back then. She still resides in the Brina Barony after being driven out of here, you know."
"Please do tell us."
Over a simple meal, Lean listened to the story of his grandaunt's youth.
She’d married into the Sauer family but couldn't bear children, so her husband took a concubine. Eventually, both women gave birth to children, and that’s when things started to fall apart.
The events had taken place only about fifteen years ago, and the information matched what Lean had already gathered in Orville.
So, what’s the real problem here? Lean wondered as they wrapped up their meal.
Having come a long way, they decided to rest and attempt another meeting with Baron Sauer tomorrow. Ray, Rera, and Diallo found separate lodgings, while Lean returned to the manor.
The baron had locked himself in his room and didn’t even come out to eat.
***
"Haam."
Lerialia yawned widely.
She had woken up once again from a nightmare and lay there staring at the ceiling to pass the time.
She had read, exercised in the middle of the night, done all sorts of things. Still, it was pitch dark outside, a sign that there was a long way to go before dawn.
Finally unable to bear the boredom, Lerialia recalled the events of the previous night and stepped out of her room.
Last night’s unexpected surprise had made it easy for her to fall back asleep. Though it was a little improper, she found herself wishing for a repeat of last night.
The corridor was in slightly better condition than before. The maids who accompanied Lerialia and Lean had busied themselves scrubbing the floor of the princess’s wing.
But it was impossible to clear away the dust of more than a decade in just one day.
In fact, moving furniture and flipping carpets had merely unsettled the dust that had settled deep in the corners, sending it floating through the air.
Well, I'm wearing slippers, so I don’t mind, Lerialia thought. As long as she was warm and fed, cleanliness was the least of her concerns. That’s all that matters.
Once again, brimming with a sense of adventure, she found herself standing by the baron’s door. She didn’t intend to do anything—just listen for a moment before moving along.
But this time...
It’s eerily quiet.
She couldn’t detect the slightest hint of movement, even though the lights were on.
Is he dead? Oh no! What if he’s dead!
Just as Lerialia, entertaining ridiculous scenarios in her mind, placed a hand on the doorknob—
"...What are you doing?"
"Ah!!!"
Lerialia shrieked in surprise, turning to see the baron standing behind her with a cup and plate in hand, likely returning from the kitchen.
"Do you need something from me?"
"Oh, no, no! I just—um, there was no sound coming from inside…"
"No sound?"
"Well, um… last night, I…"
Lerialia faltered, stumbling over her words.
He’s definitely going to think I'm strange! What if he thinks I’m a thief? She worried, but Bretin seemed unbothered.
"Please return to your room and get some sleep."
He had no interest in the little princess. The only reason he’d left his room was to grab a late-night snack, unable to sleep due to hunger.
With a plate of food he’d prepared for himself, Bretin brushed past the princess and closed the door behind him. Soon, he heard the light pitter-patter of her short footsteps retreating down the hall.
"Phew."
He placed the food on the desk, picked up a light read, and began to eat while he read.
In his current state of distress, and without Nella to assist him, sleep was out of the question, so he’d resolved to simply reverse his schedule and stay awake through the night.
The prince’s presence was also an annoyance.
Not that he was proud of it, but he excelled at holing up in his room. Surely the prince, whatever his reason for visiting, would tire of waiting and leave eventually.
After finishing his meal, Bretin took his plate back to the kitchen. He could leave it for Nella, but she was already overworked.
Yes, he was a noble who knew how to do at least some small chores for himself…
"...What are you doing this time?"
"Ah!!"
The princess was rummaging through the kitchen cupboards, standing on a chair, clearly determined as she tried to reach something.
Blushing, she said, "I… I was hungry too."
But why was she doing it herself? Bretin asked.
"Couldn’t you just ask a maid to bring something?"
"I thought about it, but there’s no bell here… and I felt bad about waking anyone. I figured I’d find whatever you took somewhere around here."
"...I see."
She’s an unusual princess, he thought.
Bretin had been about to leave after putting his plate away but noticed the princess eyeing it longingly. He reconsidered and said, “Please, wait here a moment. Sit down.”
What Bretin knew how to make wasn’t exactly cooking, more like simple preparation. When the princess started to curiously approach him, he gently turned her away, took out some well-aged ham, and heated it. It was already cooked in a simmering sauce, so it was perfectly safe to eat cold, but it tasted better warmed.
"Wow! Amazing!" Lerialia marveled at the steaming dish.
How could such a well-prepared meal be ready so quickly? She showered him with praise, burying her face in her plate and munching happily.
Bretin, unsure about leaving her alone, stayed nearby for a moment.
"But why are you up at this hour, wandering around?” he asked.
“I couldn’t sleep. Or rather… I kept having nightmares.”
“…I see.”
“What about you, Baron?”
Bretin didn’t answer. Instead, when the princess, with no sense of decorum, went to scrape the plate, he took it from her and added it to his pile of dishes.
“Please, go to bed,” he said, gently encouraging her to do what he himself couldn’t manage.
***
What he thought would be a one-time encounter continued night after night.
Once Nella arrived each morning, Bretin would finally get some sleep with her help. He would spend the rest of the day locked in his room, only emerging at night to find food. Each time, the princess would be there, waiting.
During the day, it was the prince; at night, it was the princess.
Both had their reasons for being there.
The prince was clearly acting on the orders of Marquis Benar Tatian. The princess…
“It’s delicious!”
…came for food. Or so he thought at first, but when he tried to show her the recipe, she flatly refused.
“What, do you think I grew up deprived? I… I don’t need to eat something like this!”
…Not that he’d assumed she was deprived, but she did seem to be enjoying it quite a bit.
It didn’t take long to understand her real motive. When he told her, “I’ll be going now; you can leave the plate here,” she looked visibly disappointed.
It seemed this young princess sought him out as a conversation partner.
She’s just a kid, Bretin thought. Much younger than her age.
He didn’t mean she was childish, but the thought wasn’t entirely wrong.
After all, dealing with solitude was an adult’s burden.
Children, with their unformed sense of self, typically found it hard to be alone, whining for company. Suddenly, he realized he wasn’t so different.
After all, he couldn’t sleep unless someone was nearby, just as she restlessly roamed to escape her nightmares. They weren’t all that different.
Feeling a touch of shame, he returned to his room, leaving the princess, who had been chatting away about her day with the maid.
And, as usual, he found himself ensnared in dampness as he tried to sleep.
“Ugh… ngh…”
You fool.
Even as the bed soaked through, he lay there as if unaware. Did you hear the screams?
Tossing and turning in his sleep, the damp bed turned clammy and sticky, enveloping him.
The smell of blood, sharp and dry.
Unable to bear the clinging dampness, he turned his head and murmured, “Mother…” only to be filled with a deep emptiness.
And when he opened his eyes, all he saw was a sea of blood. His mother, who had once put him to sleep, was gone, and the bed was soaked in blood.
And there he was, lying in it.
“Hah!”
“Oh! S-sorry!”
Bretin awoke with a start, letting out a sharp breath. The princess was just entering his room.
“I heard noises again as I passed by… Are you unwell?”
“…I’m fine.”
“Should I get you some water? You’re drenched in sweat.”
It was still night. Weakly, he replied, “No, that’s all right… Just… sigh …could you stay and talk for a moment? I… I feel the need to say something. Anything.”
Bretin sat up in bed. He invited the princess, technically his young niece, to sit in a chair and began sharing memories from his past.
He spoke of his mother’s murder, of his half-brother, with whom he shared only a father, and of the half-cousin who haunted him.
Chapter 332: Beggar Siblings - Half-Cousin
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