Chapter 05
Regression (5)
The imperial physicians entered the prison to examine my injuries and wrapped bandages around my foot.
At that moment, the black bear from earlier returned and gave a thumbs-up in front of my cell.
“I went and beat that guy up too.”
“Oh, really?”
Who did he go beat up?
Could it be… the idiot? Did he go beat up the idiot?
No way, and he didn’t die from it? Is there someone in this empire who could survive after hitting the emperor?
The man with disheveled black hair and a thick beard laughed heartily, seeming satisfied, and then quietly returned to his cell.
The sight of the bear returning to its cage after a walk prompted the guards to shout, “Welcome back, sir!”
What’s going on? Am I the only one who doesn’t know who this man is?
Well, it’s true that I’ve never been particularly interested in people outside my immediate circle. But I do keep track of the profiles of major nobles!
“By the way, Bumbor.”
“Yes?”
“You should shave.”
“…”
“I thought you were a bear.”
“…”
No joke, I really thought a black grizzly bear from the northern mountains was walking around, like the ones that eat salmon in autumn.
Even if this is a prison, what kind of appearance is that?
What’s the difference between humans and beasts? Even beasts groom themselves, licking their fur to keep it tidy.
I wasn’t in any position to talk, considering I hadn’t washed my face that morning, but I nagged with a stiff tongue until Bumbor tapped the wall to stop me.
“Your Highness, don’t you have something else to say?”
“Huh?”
“I went and beat him up for you, remember?”
“Did I ask you to?”
“…”
See? No response, right?
You went and did something I didn’t even ask for, so why should I commend you?
Besides, a good deed is something done without expecting a reward. If you expect something in return, it’s no longer a good deed but a transaction.
Why is volunteering called volunteering? Because it’s done without expecting anything in return.
“Enough.”
“Volunteering is…”
“Please, stop.”
“Do you know the term ‘self-satisfaction,’ Bumbor? It’s a significant driving force in life.”
“Your Highness, I beg of you.”
“Alright.”
I could lecture you for another hour, but out of respect for the fact that you beat up that idiot, I’ll stop here.
As I said this, the sound of gratitude echoed from Bumbor and the other cells. It seemed the other prisoners were also listening attentively to my noble words.
“Well, it’s time for children to sleep. I permit you all to play quietly.”
Having skipped a meal and exhausted myself with all the commotion, I declared that I would sleep now. From the neighboring cells, including Bumbor’s, I heard voices saying, “Sleep well, Your Highness.”
Though they were political prisoners, they knew how to show proper respect to a princess. When I get out, I’ll have to consider reducing their sentences as a royal privilege.
I thanked them and climbed onto my bed, pulling the blanket over me.
It was the first time I had slept on such a hard bed, so when I woke up, my entire body was covered in bruises.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Aaaahhhh!”
Morning came, and after taking a bite of the meal that was served, I kicked the tray and rolled on the floor.
It tasted terrible.
How dare they bring this pig slop for me to eat?
Feeling wronged and utterly appalled, I screamed in fury. The prisoners in the cells around me pleaded in unison for me to calm down.
“Prison food is always bad, Your Highness!”
“It’s meant for reformation, so please endure it, Your Highness!”
“The cook in charge of the meals doesn’t add salt to save it! Please calm down!”
You might be used to this, but as the sole legitimate heir of the royal family, I should be given food that befits my status!
I kept screaming until my throat trembled, and eventually, both the prisoners and the guards joined forces to plead with me to stop. The head guard finally rushed out, saying he would bring me a new meal.
“Wait. I have more to say.”
“Yes, please command us, Your Highness.”
“Ahem.”
No matter how delicious the food is, it’s no fun eating it alone. Even though we only know each other’s voices, we’ve developed a bond living under the same roof, so we should all eat the same food, right?
The food prepared by the head chef of the Princess’s Palace was so delicious it was a shame to eat it alone.
“From now on, while I’m in prison, all food here shall be prepared by the head chef of the Princess’s Palace!”
“Thank you for your grace!”
“We will obey your command!”
This is something I can handle on my own authority without needing approval from the idiot. Even if he finds out, he won’t care much anyway.
At this hour, he’s probably sound asleep.
Afterward, it seemed that the staff under my command worked diligently, as the prison food was filled with the kinds of dishes I usually eat.
Here and there, people praised the food, saying it had been a long time since they’d had something so well-seasoned with salt and pepper. Some even shouted “Long live the Princess!” with every bite.
“Bumbor, do you have anything to say?”
“Do you know the term ‘self-satisfaction,’ Princess?”
“Enough, you ungrateful scoundrel.”
He’s using what he learned from me. What a cheeky guy, Bumbor.
After eating heartily, I drank the antidote the physician had provided and munched on strawberries as dessert.
This year’s strawberries were delicious.
Feeling it was a shame to eat them alone, I reached through the bars to offer a strawberry to Bumbor, who quickly accepted it and, surprisingly, thanked me.
“It’s self-satisfaction.”
“You really never lose a word, do you?”
My mother and aunt always taught me that the royal bloodline should never live in defeat.
This was more of a teaching from my maternal side, the Rorowie family, rather than from the Kisomalos family. The Rorowie family has a rather intense temperament.
“Oh, Rorowie.”
“Oh, you know Rorowie?”
Well, considering they’re an old family that serves a mid-level deity, it’d be more surprising if he didn’t know.
I proudly told him that my mother was the eldest daughter of Rorowie, and that the current head of the family, my aunt Kazelnu, is the second daughter. To this, Bumbor responded with a chilling comment.
“I know. Rorowie is the family that conspired with my uncle to kill my parents.”
“Oh…”
Sorry. My maternal family can be a bit much.
They never miss an opportunity to kill someone or start a war.
So that’s what it was. My educators hadn’t taught me about your family because my maternal family had buried them. I knew there was something strange about me not knowing such a significant figure.
“I’m sorry. My aunt’s family is a bit… aggressive.”
“No. My parents died because they were weak. You don’t need to apologize, Princess.”
You really are rude, Bumbor. No matter how it is, you shouldn’t talk like that about your deceased parents.
It seems like your parents were just victims, while my idiot brother deserved what he got.
“They also wronged my uncle by taking over his territory.”
“Hmm…”
“And then, my uncle, who acted as my guardian, handed me over to the royal family, eyeing our family’s wealth, and constantly sought opportunities to kill me by sending me to the battlefield. As soon as I came of age, I purged my uncle’s entire family.”
“What a mess…”
What kind of family is that? Honestly, my family’s situation seems rather clean in comparison, don’t you think?
In our case, we brought ruin upon ourselves by practically destroying the country, so it was deserved, but in your case, your family seems to have been ruined mostly because of Rorowie.
Your family seems to need the chance to go back and fix things more than mine does.
“There were plenty of justifications to kill them, but as a means of reflection, I’ve chosen to be here.”
Ah, so you do have a conscience, Bumbor.
Judging by how long your hair is, you’ve been here for a while. You’ve been reflecting all this time, huh?
Still, you’re in your prime. You should go out and have some fun. One of my biggest regrets after dying was that I didn’t get to enjoy myself enough.
You’re so stubborn that it’s starting to look pitiful.
“Bumbor.”
“Yes?”
“Give me your hand.”
Turns out I don’t even need to use my influence to get you out of here. You can leave as soon as you’ve finished reflecting.
So that’s why the guards didn’t stop you from coming and going outside the prison.
“Kisomalos, Kisomalos, ah, damn it!”
Ugh, my tongue is so stiff I can’t speak!
I deliberately recalled the times when the idiot hit me or when I was drawn and quartered, trying to raise my blood pressure. My head began to heat up, and my tongue gradually loosened.
“As the legitimate heir of Kisomalos, I command you.”
“…”
“I pardon your sins.”
So go out and have some fun, Bumbor. Don’t end up with regrets like me.
And if possible, become a talented person who can contribute to the empire and maybe even save me from being drawn and quartered.
I drew the Kisomalos symbol on Bumbor’s palm and then gave him a slap on the hand.
Since the second most noble person in the country, and the legitimate heir of Kisomalos, has pardoned you, there’s no need for you to reflect on your sins any longer.
I continued, telling him to take good care of himself, shave regularly, get a proper haircut, wash up well, dress nicely, and live freely doing whatever he wants.
In response, Bumbor clenched his fist and answered my lecture.
“I understand.”
“And next time we meet, try to have some manners.”
“I’ll consider that suggestion.”
Yes, good. Hurry up and go. Don’t forget to shave. Get a haircut too.
I kept repeating what I’d already said, and Bumbor kicked open the prison door and ran off, covering his ears.
