The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2
And following Olivia’s gaze, the eyes of those gathered there also locked onto that knight.
Hair of vivid silver, reflecting all light like the moon at midnight, and crimson eyes half-lidded. His sharp jawline flowing from a straight nose, and tightly closed lips conveyed an inexplicable sense of pressure.
“Huh…”
It was understandable that their attention would be drawn—but they weren’t merely stealing a glance. They’d been staring at him this long.
Dignified and never one for loud displays, the Imperial Princess was counted among the continent’s most beautiful women, yet never once had there been a rumor linking her to any man.
If such a princess were to fall for that knight at first sight… the entire continent’s balance of power would shift abruptly.
Just as dry swallows passed down throats, an Imperial representative raised his hand and spoke.
And from that moment, the meeting proceeded in an unbearably awkward atmosphere.
“…Thus, the proposal receives opposition from…”
No matter what others chattered about, Olivia’s attention was fixed entirely on Cryer—and she made no effort to hide it.
Even if she tried to observe him secretly, Cryer couldn’t possibly fail to notice her gaze.
Then she might as well let the whole town know.
I have a tremendous interest in that man!
Not a single person present failed to pay attention to Olivia, the Imperial Princess.
Yet now this Imperial Princess was devoting all her focus to a mere knight from a tiny, remote kingdom.
Cryer, that knight, wouldn’t dare move recklessly.
Cryer wouldn’t slaughter everyone here and start a war right away.
After all, the continent-wide war was still several months away.
Thus, the rumors generated by her actions would become Olivia’s lifeline—a rope to cling to before she could negotiate or speak with Cryer.
Well, unless that madman suddenly snapped and slaughtered her on the spot, turning this place into a sea of blood.
But that was beyond her control…
Olivia clenched her fist tightly. Her neatly trimmed nails dug into her palm, causing pain—but that pain would hopefully dilute, even slightly, the terror she felt toward Cryer.
Taking a deep breath, Olivia raised her hand without tearing her eyes away from Cryer.
The increasingly heated and loud voices of the debaters instantly fell silent at her single gesture.
“You’ve grown overly heated. Let’s take a short break and resume shortly.”
Before she even finished speaking, Olivia abruptly stood up and strode purposefully forward.
Straight toward Cryer.
Gasps from the crowd, hands covering mouths in shock—none of it registered in Olivia’s eyes.
At the end of her gaze sat only Cryer, eyes downcast, wearing an expression that screamed indifference to everything in the world.
– Tap.
– Tap-tap-tap-tap.
The closer she got to him, the faster Olivia’s steps became.
Having drawn the attention of everyone in the chamber, Olivia finally reached Cryer and spoke.
“Look at me.”
Etiquette, greetings, introductions—Olivia tossed it all aside and went straight to the point.
Gasps of astonishment echoed around her, but Olivia focused solely on Cryer.
It wasn’t as if her repeated regressions and multiple continent-wide wars had yielded no results whatsoever.
Though she didn’t know who Cryer truly was, where he came from, or how he became so powerful, she had managed to glean a few of his minor preferences.
For one, he disliked wordy speakers. “Just get straight to the point,” he’d said, hadn’t he?
Truthfully, she never had the luxury to pay attention to anything else.
In her last regression alone, she’d died by his hand four times—each and every time, without exception.
Now, Olivia had to exert superhuman effort not to reach up and touch her perfectly intact neck.
When she finally stood before him, moving as if weighted down by an unbearably heavy chain—
Someone other than Cryer suddenly stepped in front of Olivia.
“Your Highness.”
“K-King of Norden.”
Mechanically acknowledging the King of Norden’s greeting, Olivia still couldn’t—and wouldn’t—take her eyes off Cryer.
The moment she looked away, even briefly, she felt certain her head would roll off her shoulders.
Seeing this, the King of Norden glanced alternately between Cryer, who stood silently bowing his head, and Olivia, whose gaze seemed ready to burn Cryer alive, before speaking hesitantly.
“Has our knight caused some issue?”
“Yes. There is an issue.”
“Yes?”
“I have something I need to discuss with him. Please excuse us for a moment.”
Though utterly baffled, the King of Norden had no choice but to nod at Olivia’s unexpectedly forceful demeanor—so unlike the Imperial Princess he knew.
After all, a confrontation between the Empire and his kingdom over a mere knight was the last thing he wanted.
“K…hm. Sir. Please follow me for a moment.”
Her urgency nearly made her blurt out his name before she caught herself with a cough, then gestured toward Cryer.
But he remained silent.
How long did another second stretch into an eternity? Cold sweat drenched her back, yet chills ran through her, making her fingertips tremble.
Just as Olivia parted her parched lips, the King of Norden fortunately intervened first.
“Sir. What are you doing? Her Highness is calling for you.”
“My apologies.”
The instant Cryer spoke, the fine hairs on the back of Olivia’s neck stood on end at the sound of his voice.
Her neck felt stiff—but retreat was no longer an option.
“This… way.”
Without waiting for his escort, Olivia strode ahead.
Only Cryer noticed the subtle trembling in her rounded shoulders.
Upon reaching the prepared private chamber, Olivia kept swallowing dryly.
Since so many had witnessed her bringing him here, Cryer surely wouldn’t just slash her throat right now.
…Right? She had to believe that.
Forcing herself into a self-induced trance, Olivia entered the chamber first—and the moment she turned her back, Cryer stepped inside.
– Click.
The sound of the door latch falling shut echoed louder than thunder, making Olivia’s shoulders jerk violently.
Finally. They were alone at last.
Her heart pounded so fiercely she feared it might burst from her chest.
It wasn’t the flutter of excitement—it was closer to arrhythmia, born purely of dread.
If only she truly were infatuated with Cryer, like the others in the meeting chamber assumed, and had summoned him here unable to contain herself—how happy she’d be…
“If Your Highness holds me in such regard, I am honored—but I am not yet in a position to accompany anyone.”
Before her thought even finished, Cryer offered a deeply courteous bow, yet his tone dripped with unmistakable annoyance.
True to form, he observed superficial decorum just enough—but his words cut straight to business, as if formalities were utterly irrelevant.
“I didn’t drag you here because I’m infatuated with you. I called you because I have real business.”
Rubbing the goosebumps on her cheeks, Olivia flatly denied his assumption, then waved her hand toward Cryer.
“You don’t need to force yourself into unnatural etiquette. Speak however you like—casually or formally, it’s your choice.”
Never before had she felt such visceral discomfort hearing someone address her deferentially.
Then again—how many experiences did she truly have beyond this one?
Born as the Imperial Princess, she’d heard informal speech only from His Imperial Majesty.
Yet from their very first meeting, Cryer had spoken to Olivia with complete disregard for formality. Or rather—had he merely spoken? He’d also cleanly severed her head in one stroke.
“If anyone can handle a difficult task, it’s you.”
Suddenly summoned by the Imperial Princess and left alone with her, then bombarded with such unprecedented, baffling statements—Cryer’s eyebrow twitched faintly.
Olivia didn’t wait for his response and instead poured out words in a rapid torrent.
She was too anxious, too terrified—she couldn’t endure even a moment’s silence.
“There’s only one reason I called you here. How—no, what must I do?”
Olivia was desperate—and Cryer couldn’t possibly miss the intensity radiating from her.
Yet he still showed no hint of baring his fangs.
“I’m having trouble following your train of thought.”
“That’s exactly it! What must I do?!”
With fierce resolve, Olivia tried to step forward toward Cryer—but her courage faltered halfway, and she stopped after half a step.
“To you!”
Though less than two steps separated them, to Olivia those mere paces looked like a yawning chasm leading to a bottomless abyss.
“What must I do for you?”
“Your Highness. I am but a humble knight of the Norden Kingdom. There is nothing the Imperial Princess need do for me.”
Seeing Cryer still feigning ignorance, Olivia clenched both fists and cried out with even greater resolve.
“What must I do to stop you from starting a war?!”
After Olivia’s desperate plea, a profound, weighty silence descended.
How long did that suffocating quiet last?
“Start by breathing.”
“H-hah! Huhh—!”
At Cryer’s words, Olivia exhaled the breath she’d been holding and gasped for air.
As her constricted chest finally filled with air, she stared at Cryer with tear-filled, glistening blue eyes.
“Y-you just spoke informally!”
“You said I could drop the formalities.”
Having discarded the hollow shell of politeness, Cryer gave a casual shrug and lazily surveyed Olivia.
Like a predator sizing up its prey.
Under his gaze, Olivia felt like a frog facing a snake, and silently repeated to herself:
Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me right now.
Perhaps her mantra worked—Cryer showed no immediate intention of twisting her neck.
To Olivia’s immense relief, Cryer finally displayed interest in her words.
“What do you mean by ‘war’?”
“We both know the situation—why dance around it anymore?”
She tried to sound calm, but couldn’t stop her voice from shaking uncontrollably.
“Both know? Now that you mention it, Your Highness—what exactly do you know?”
“Everything.”
Olivia answered instantly, without even pausing to breathe—though she wasn’t sure she was breathing properly at all.
Hearing her reply, Cryer slowly tilted his head.
“I know everything! That you’ll start a war—the continent-wide war—and unleash a storm of blood! That the entire continent will fall into your hands, rivers will run red with blood, people will groan in death—and!”
Midway through her frantic outburst, Olivia’s throat suddenly seized up.
Male lead is reincarnated to save his wife
I’ve also read this one twice already. The female lead is kinda soft and gets embarrassed easily—not really my type, but the plot is definitely worth reading. Hurry up and read it, y’all!
Intro
When Shen Yuan encountered Su Jin again in his previous life, she had already become the Prime Minister of the current dynasty. As for him, the former top young master of the capital, he had long since fallen into the abyss, becoming a singer on a pleasure boat.
After a song ended, he was redeemed and sent to the Su Residence.
Su Jin respected and cherished him, gave him a roof over his head, and bestowed him with warmth. Shen Yuan fell deeper and deeper, but before he could express his feelings, Su Jin passed away.
Shen Yuan died to follow her in death, but instead, he returned to when he was fifteen years old.
At that time, he was not yet engaged, and Su Jin was just a poor scholar.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth, casting aside all his pride, and thought of ways to coax and entice her every day.
The colder and more indifferent Su Jin was towards him, the more proactive Shen Yuan became.
He was not afraid of being mocked by the world, only wanting to marry his Wife-master early, to hold her hand and never let go for a lifetime.
[Note: This story will not specifically point out the male lead’s reincarnation time point; it’s all in the details. Whenever you feel that the male lead is acting strangely, he has most likely been reincarnated.]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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