The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 24
From inside, the Branch Manager’s voice was heard, and Ambre bounced toward the direction of the sound with a spring in her step.
The man, who had been staring intently at the soft pink hair brushing faintly past his fingertips, quickly clenched his fist and concealed himself in the shadows.
Having narrowly escaped the man’s grasp, Ambre came face to face with the Branch Manager.
“Branch Manager? Sorry—I guess I must’ve been asleep.”
“No, my lady. It’s I who should be ashamed to meet you in such a state.”
The Branch Manager, his cheeks hollowed, pushed up his glasses and bowed his head.
Instantly, Ambre waved her hand dismissively at him.
“Don’t say that. It’s obvious you’re working the hardest and doing the most.”
At her sincere words, the Branch Manager’s eyes grew moist.
He hastily dabbed at his eyes and let out a hearty chuckle.
“At my age, I get moved by the smallest things—how foolish of me.”
“You’re doing well. I know that better than anyone. Just hang in there a little longer.”
In truth, until this case was resolved, the Branch Manager was practically guaranteed more hardship ahead.
But Ambre chose not to mention that, nor did she reveal that Her Imperial Highness the Princess herself was personally overseeing the case.
Though she cared deeply for the Branch Manager before her, she possessed enough prudence not to blurt out the Princess’s involvement just to ease his mind.
Despite seeming as though she lived in a garden of flowers, Ambre was, after all, ‘Taren.’
“Yes. By the way, my lady, here’s the chart prepared as you instructed.”
“Hmm. Good work.”
Examining the logistics flowchart handed over by the Branch Manager, Ambre’s eyes were sharper than ever.
How much time had passed? Ambre quietly rose from her seat, glancing briefly at the Branch Manager, who had nearly collapsed into sleep.
Carrying a bundle of documents, Ambre slipped quietly out from the inner room and soon came to a sudden halt.
“Hm? You.”
Seeing the man blocking her path, Ambre broke into a wide smile.
“Have you been well? The Branch Manager will surely thank you for coming to help—of course, I’m grateful too.”
At Ambre’s words, the man gave a slight bow and spoke in a gentle voice.
“Thanks to you, everything worked out well.”
Though he’d lost every coin she’d given him, he’d finally learned that money couldn’t buy people—so in some way, he supposed, it had helped. That wasn’t a lie.
“Really? I’m glad.”
Watching Ambre beam brightly, a kindly smile also spread across the man’s lips.
“Just hang in there a bit longer. There haven’t been any disappearances recently, so soon…”
Staring intently at Ambre’s plump red lips chattering away, the man soon lowered his head and shut his eyes.
Then, one step, and another.
He began advancing toward her, closing the distance until he stood close enough to twist her neck with a mere outstretched hand—
“My lady!”
Suddenly, the Branch Manager appeared behind her.
His hair was disheveled, as though he’d rushed out in a hurry after waking up.
Yet even seeing the Branch Manager in such a state, Ambre couldn’t hide her pity and shook her head.
“Why not go back to sleep?”
“No. I couldn’t possibly stay lying down while you’re leaving, my lady.”
Despite the deep shadows beneath his eyes, the Branch Manager firmly insisted on escorting Ambre.
“Well, if you insist.”
“Yes. Oh? You again—were you working today too?”
As the Branch Manager adjusted his glasses, the man bowed deeply at the waist.
“I came just in case.”
At his words, the Branch Manager’s eyes welled up again, and he strode toward the man with emotion.
Gripping the man’s shoulders tightly, the Branch Manager nodded earnestly.
“I’m truly grateful there are people like you.”
The man glanced down at the Branch Manager’s hands on his shoulders and gently slipped away.
“No, it’s enough for me if I can be of help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.”
As the man turned to leave, Ambre called out to him.
“Oh, wait a moment.”
She signaled to the Branch Manager, who quickly pulled a money pouch from his robe.
Handing the pouch directly to the man, Ambre smiled.
“This is to thank you for your hard work so far—and as encouragement to keep working diligently for our trading house.”
“No, you already gave me something last time—I really can’t accept more…”
Before the man could finish declining politely, Ambre cut in.
“Take it. It’s an order. And keep working hard.”
Meeting her eyes—filled purely and wholly with kindness—the man bowed his head and accepted the pouch.
Ambre then left the spot, and the Branch Manager vanished along with her.
But the man stood rooted in place, staring long and hard at the spot where Ambre had disappeared.
Meanwhile, Olivia and Cryer had just returned to the palace after enjoying a pleasant time together.
Gazing once again at the dense mountain range of documents before her, Olivia focused her drifting eyes and took a deep breath.
“Alright. Let’s tackle today’s pile.”
She dove into the paperwork with battle-ready vigor, and Cryer, as always, settled into his usual seat and opened his book.
-Scratch scratch.
-Flip.
Only the sound of pen gliding across paper and the occasional turning of pages filled the quiet room.
This comfortable silence, now so familiar between them, was wonderfully peaceful.
Neither of them thought it particularly special nor suddenly realized its significance.
-Thud.
Having finished reading the passage in Bolshayk’s history book claiming someone once outran a horse, Cryer glanced over at Olivia.
Her shoulders—much smaller than his—rose and fell steadily, and beneath them, her pen darted across the page too fast to see.
It was a sight he saw every day, yet it never ceased to amaze him.
How could such strength come from such a small frame?
Her crimson hair swayed with each movement of her shoulders, flickering like flames.
Or rather—he recalled someone once saying that a quiet blue flame burned hotter than a fierce red one.
Resting his chin in his hand, Cryer watched her silently, though her head was bent downward, hiding those ever-direct blue eyes from view.
His gaze drifted down to the round amethyst at her earlobe, then followed the gentle sway of her vivid red hair.
Bolshayk, huh…
Perhaps even in his own era, the Bolshayk family had existed.
Since it was said they’d been around since the dawn of the continent, surely in that distant time there had been someone with hair like hers.
Likely one of Olivia’s ancestors—perhaps even someone just like her.
Maybe they’d even known each other.
Thinking this gave him a strangely fated feeling.
He chuckled softly at his whimsical thoughts—then his expression hardened in an instant.
Cryer pressed firmly against the throbbing mark on his collarbone.
Olivia didn’t miss his movement.
She slammed down the document she’d been reviewing and rushed over to him in one swift motion.
“What is it—does it hurt again?”
“Yes.”
“How intense is the pain? Scale it from one to ten.”
Cryer chuckled and gently pushed away Olivia’s round forehead as she leaned in close enough to practically press her nose against his collarbone.
“The meaning of assigning a number depends entirely on where you set ten on that scale. What’s the point of quantifying it like that?”
“Oh, right. So ten would be…”
Before Olivia could finish her sentence, Cryer replied.
“It’s just slightly uncomfortable.”
He removed his hand from his collarbone and lightly rotated his neck.
“Enough that it wouldn’t hinder me in a sparring match.”
Olivia smacked his arm firmly.
“It’s not about sparring! The mark linked to the Ancient God is far more important!”
She wasn’t wrong—but Cryer shook his head.
“It doesn’t hurt continuously, there’s no specific trigger I can confirm, and it’s certainly not life-threatening—so it’s not important right now.”
If he had to name a condition that triggered the pain, it might be Olivia—but he wasn’t certain.
If it hurt every time they touched, then yes, she’d clearly be the trigger—but that wasn’t the case.
“But…”
Olivia’s gaze, her brows furrowed downward, remained fixed on his mark.
“No. Clinging to an unsolvable problem is pointless. Besides…”
He glanced down at the area around the mark on his collarbone and added,
“A mark is just a mark. I’ve never thought it served any particular purpose. Eyes are different.”
He tapped lightly near his own eye, and Olivia instinctively touched her own.
“Eyes?”
“Yes.”
Staring straight into his deep crimson eyes, Olivia asked,
“What about your eyes? Do they… produce something or anything?”
“What?”
“I mean… never mind.”
Realizing how absurd her own words sounded even as she spoke them, Olivia trailed off awkwardly—but Cryer simply shook his head.
“Nothing comes out of my eyes. It’s just that when one becomes a slave to the Ancient God, their irises turn this color.”
“If ‘this color’ means deep crimson… you’re saying your eyes weren’t originally that color?”
Her expression clearly showed disbelief—how could he possibly know that if he had no memory? Cryer just shrugged lightly.
“Yes. I don’t know what my original eye color was, but the Magician’s Daughter told me so, so it must be true. They’re mad, but they don’t lie.”
When had that been? Probably not long after his resurrection and receiving the mark of the Ancient God’s slave.
‘Cryer. Your eyes are truly beautiful.’
Greta had whispered, her expression utterly enchanted as she gently caressed his eyes with him standing right before her.
‘Only those who serve the Ancient God possess irises of this hue.’
From within Cryer’s deep crimson eyes, hatred, fury, boundless resignation, and despair began to seep out like crawling shadows.
Yes—the crimson irises were as much a shackle and symbol as the mark itself.
Proof that he was the Ancient God’s slave, forever unable to break free.
A resurrection he never wanted, a contract he never agreed to.
And the inescapable yoke of slavery.
-Crack.
The armrest of the sofa where Cryer sat crumbled in his grip like a clump of snow.
And in the next moment,
Olivia covered Cryer’s eyes with both her hands.
From her small palms, darkness spread—but within it surged a warmth that didn’t belong to shadows.
-Thud.
As the fragments of the armrest fell, the tension slowly drained from Cryer’s hand, where livid veins had bulged moments before.
His seething hatred, fury, despair, and resignation quietly settled under that tiny warmth.
Slowly, Cryer raised his hand and began tracing the small hands covering his eyes.
His rough fingertips traveled down her slender, soft fingers—hardened only at the joints from holding a pen—and suddenly stopped.
“Your High…”
“It was just instinct. Nothing more.”
Before he could finish speaking, Olivia tightened her grip and said firmly. When she fell silent, a warm, hazy quiet filled the space between them.
Soon, Cryer’s hand settled over hers.
The moment she flinched to pull away—
“Stay like this for just a moment.”
His low, slightly hoarse voice brushed against her ear.
Hearing the faint, almost imperceptible tremble in his tone, Olivia froze in place, her hands still over his eyes, wearing an expression beyond words.
Just as Olivia opened her mouth to speak again—
-Knock knock.
An abrupt knock made Olivia jolt so violently it was as if a tuna had been skewered. A flustered servant’s voice followed immediately after the knock.
“Your Highness, forgive the intrusion, but we have visitors from the Kingdom of Norden.”
The Villainous Demon Lord Laid an Egg for Her (Female-Dominated)
Several months after transmigrating into a book, Yu Wu found herself facing the demon lord Li You, who could no longer conceal his dragon horns. With one hand on her aching waist and the other gripping a sharp sword, she stared at him.
The demon lord’s eyes were red with fury:
“This is all your doing! Today, I won’t rest until I kill you!”
Yu Wu rubbed her temples. Putting aside the taboo against bloodshed during pregnancy, wasn’t it this very man who willingly walked into her trap that day?!
Warnings:
- Male pregnancy.
- Height ratios are set to mirror typical male-female height proportions.
- Characters include a foot-loving demon lord and an eldest daughter from an immortal family’s concubine lineage.
Most Commented This Week
The Villain Has Gone Mad For Me (Completed Main Story)
I’m The Lowest-Ranking Daughter Of A Martial Arts Villain (2 Chapters Left to Complete)
[Full] The Villain Found Out This is a Novel (Completed Main Story)
I Became the Assassin Family’s Foster Daughter (Completed Main Story)
[Full] The Villainess Just Wants to Live Quietly! (Completed Main Story)
The Duke Only Needs My Child (Completed Main Story)
Men of the Harem (137 Chapters Left to Complete)
At the End of Ruin, There You Are (56 Chapters Left to Complete)
She’s a Villainess but her Husband is Handsome (Completed Main Story)
My Discarded Fiancé Returned (Completed Main Story)
People Aren’t Meant to Be Fixed! (4 Chapters Left to Complete)
I Received The First Time Of My Extraordinary Superior (9 Chapters Left to Complete)
Summer Must Die (16 Chapters Left to Complete)
Regret With All Your Might (Completed Main Story)