The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 27
Greta was smiling contentedly.
The terror the Palace Steward felt was what made her smile.
Through the Crown Prince’s mouth once more, Greta spoke.
“Finish the matter at the secondary palace. As quickly as possible.”
Incidents and accidents always happen unexpectedly.
That is precisely why they are called incidents or accidents.
And this incident, too, occurred at a time no one anticipated, in a place no one had considered.
Even the one who caused it hadn’t foreseen it….
Swish… thud.
Inyoung, unconscious, was laid upon a cloth stained with the distorted sigil of the Ancient God.
“Ugh… hah… hah-hah-hah…”
The man, panting heavily with breath rising to his chin, gazed down at the unconscious Ambre.
Just a few dozen minutes earlier.
“Huh? Out working again today? I appreciate your diligence, but push yourself too hard and you’ll ruin your health… ngh? Uuuugh!”
Ambre had been kidnapped by the man.
The heir of House Taren had fallen into his hands far too easily.
The man’s plan was exceedingly simple.
Next time we meet, I’ll definitely kidnap her.
That was all.
To devise such a flimsy plan for kidnapping the heir of “House Taren”…
Even a passing monkey would have laughed.
But there existed a vast chasm between this man and other kidnappers.
Namely, the reason for the kidnapping.
Ordinarily, kidnappers abduct someone for one of two reasons:
Revenge, or money.
And in both cases, the perpetrators never wish to be caught.
Thus, they meticulously plan every step—from approaching the target, through the abduction itself, to the cleanup afterward.
But….
“My God. My God. My God.”
The man never worried about being captured.
It wasn’t because he suddenly acquired some incredible power that could instantly fell every pursuer and let him escape.
Rather, once the final offering was made within the ritual, his god would surely descend.
What would he, who was to welcome a god, have to fear?
The man stroked Ambre’s soft pink hair as she lay unconscious and grinned ear to ear.
“God is coming.”
The bond that began with Ambre’s pure goodwill now faced an exceedingly grim end.
Rewind slightly—to a few hours before Ambre’s abduction.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes, here.”
Olivia and Cryer, arriving at the clearing indicated by the Man from Norden, discovered bloodstains.
“It’s recent. Not days—perhaps within the last two.”
Upon Cryer’s examination of the blood, Olivia scanned the surroundings.
Just as last time, an oddly sweet scent filled the air—but despite such fresh, vivid bloodstains, there was no trace of the smell of blood.
“It’s a sigil.”
Cryer uncovered the Ancient God’s distorted sigil, cunningly hidden beneath a pile of weeds, but Olivia searched for something else.
“Your Highness?”
At his question, Olivia continued scouring the area without pause.
“The bodies. If there’s blood, where are the bodies?”
“There are none.”
At Cryer’s firm reply, Olivia gritted her teeth.
“Then they’re still missing.”
If they weren’t dead, there was still a chance to rescue them.
“We must first identify whose blood this is.”
Olivia moved with the force of a tempest—unstoppable and unrelenting.
“Go. Find my people.”
Olivia deployed her forces—overwhelmingly numerous.
Any task requires time and resources.
And for most tasks, throwing resources at the problem recklessly could drastically reduce the time needed.
For the Princess of the continent’s sole empire—the sole bloodline of the Bolshayk Imperial House—to deploy her people meant mobilizing enough forces to compress “time” itself.
“Your Highness! We’ve found them!”
Thus, the disappearance of a mother and daughter—whose ordinary day had been so burdensome that no one paid them mind or thought their absence strange—was uncovered in an instant.
“When did they vanish?”
“W-well, we’re not entirely sure….”
Their neighbors, as if only just now realizing the pair had disappeared, all gave the same answer.
“We figured their circumstances must have grown too desperate, so perhaps they’d fled secretly. We even hoped they had.”
Hearing the elderly woman’s hoarse confession from behind, Olivia turned and left immediately.
The woman’s hope that they had fled implied she’d deliberately avoided paying them attention.
If the mother and daughter had run away, and pursuers came after them, the neighbors could only remain silent if they truly knew nothing of their whereabouts.
Ordinary villagers could never deceive the attention of professionals who hunted humans for a living.
The moment Olivia entered the imperial palace, she sought out the Man from Norden.
“Where is he?”
“He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, so he remains in the room where he was staying….”
Before the servant could finish speaking, Olivia strode off without hesitation.
They’d found bloodstains at the clearing the man had indicated, so the culprit had certainly been there—but not anymore.
Thus, they needed to determine where the culprit was now.
‘Here.’
‘Here? But this is just an empty clearing… What? Is he dead?’
‘No, he’s unconscious.’
The Man from Norden, who had promised to reveal the culprit’s location, collapsed once more like a puppet with its strings cut, right where Olivia and Cryer had turned the clearing upside down.
She knew Greta stood behind the man. No—she even knew he was merely her puppet.
Thus, his sudden fainting was likely due to some spell or enchantment.
But regardless, the missing mother and daughter had no time to wait for him to recover.
In a quiet wing of the imperial palace—where foreign envoys stayed—a commotion erupted.
Bang!
With a thunderous crash that threatened to rip the door from its hinges, Olivia stormed in, radiating fury as if ready to devour someone whole.
“Your Highness, I—”
Before the miraculously revived man could mechanically drop to his knees, Olivia stood directly before him in an instant.
She seized him by the collar without mercy.
Though her frame was significantly smaller than his, the sheer aura radiating from her utterly overwhelmed him.
Staring into his dead-fish eyes, Olivia gritted her teeth and hissed:
“Where is the culprit?”
But the man’s eyes remained clouded and dull.
When he refused to speak, Olivia yanked him even closer.
“I allowed you into the empire only because you claimed to know.”
Her piercing blue eyes, cutting through the man’s hazy gaze, locked onto Greta standing behind him.
Greta’s lips twisted sharply as she felt that bone-chilling glare.
The Princess. The Imperial Princess.
Something insignificant had, in an instant, become a thorn in her eye—and now it pricked like a splinter under her fingernail.
“Speak.”
The moment Olivia leaned in so close her nose nearly touched the man’s…
Crash!
The man’s neck bent almost at a right angle as he crumpled to the floor.
Olivia, whose hand had suddenly gone empty, looked up to see Cryer filling her vision—having casually grabbed the man by the back of his neck and flung him aside.
“Cry—”
Before Olivia could even speak…
Crunch.
Cryer, crushing the man’s hand beneath his boot, spoke.
“Where is the culprit?”
And thus, with his fingers pulverized by Cryer, the man began to laugh.
Delightedly. And the man—or rather, Greta—gladly opened her mouth.
For Cryer alone.
“The culprit is…”
“Your Highness! Princess!”
A servant came tumbling through the wide-open door, shouting desperately.
“Your Highness! Lady Taren has gone missing!”
There’s an old saying: misfortunes never come singly.
Just as unexpected disasters seem to arrive in succession, as if by prior agreement.
Scarcely had the mother and daughter’s disappearance been revealed when Ambre—the sole heir of House Taren—vanished as well.
How likely was it that these two disappearances, occurring with such uncanny timing, were entirely unrelated?
Marquis Taren, who resided far beyond a day or two’s travel, arrived at the imperial palace within a day or two of hearing of his daughter’s disappearance.
His appearance betrayed none of the dignity or poise expected of one with blue blood.
Unable to straighten his legs from the exhausting journey, he nearly crawled toward Olivia and clutched her arm.
‘Please, Your Highness… please… my daughter…’
Olivia simply gripped his hand tightly in return.
There was no need to ask why Lady Taren had been visiting the shops alone—it was Taren territory, after all.
Even if ill-intentioned individuals existed, none would dare lay a hand on “Taren,” and if some outsider tried, the townsfolk would move heaven and earth to stop them.
And the people cherished her so fiercely not merely because Ambre was a “Taren.”
‘It’ll be alright now.’
‘Don’t worry too much!’
‘I’ll help you.’
Because whenever they were in need, Ambre had extended her hand with pure goodwill and kindness. She treated people with sincerity, and they returned that sincerity to her.
Sincerity met with sincerity. Yet this very openness left Ambre defenseless before the culprit—and she vanished.
Leaving behind the silently screaming Marquis Taren, Olivia stepped outside. This blood-soaked case had to end.
“Your Highness.”
Facing the countless people awaiting her, Olivia issued a firm command.
“Stand by.”
Under the circumstances, it was an order few could readily accept—but not a single person questioned her. They simply obeyed.
From the shadows, Cryer watched, his eyes flickering.
Olivia’s back was as small as ever, her slender shoulders as delicate as always—yet in that moment, she felt like a colossal mountain.
“Cryer.”
“I’m here.”
They knew where the culprit was. It was merely the Man from Norden’s words—but Olivia trusted Greta’s voice speaking through him.
She held a slightly twisted faith that the Mage and his daughter, more devoted to the Ancient God than anyone else, would never dare act recklessly in matters concerning the deity.
Olivia said little.
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
Though they exchanged almost no words, countless unspoken messages passed between them.
At length, Olivia reached out her hand toward him.
“Let’s go.”
“If my Princess commands it.”
Cryer took her hand and lifted her up with perfect naturalness.
Soon, Olivia and Cryer pressed their foreheads together. Gazing into each other’s eyes, they closed them simultaneously as if by silent agreement and drew a deep breath.
As their two breaths slowly merged into a single pulse, they turned their heads slowly in unison—still forehead to forehead.
Toward the place where the Ancient God’s distorted altar lay.
“It’s time to end this.”
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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