The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 34
“You didn’t eliminate your rival, did you?”
“No, I just wanted to lighten your burden a little.”
Isaac shrugged his shoulders lightly and added,
“I want to make a good impression on you.”
It was an extremely ambiguous statement.
In truth, there could only be one reason for anyone to seek favor with Cryer in his current position:
to gain access to the Princess by winning his approval, since he alone monopolized her side.
Of course, anyone with such intentions wouldn’t be so bold as to openly declare, “I want to make a good impression on you,” as Isaac just had.
Yet Isaac reiterated firmly,
“I want to make a good impression on you—on no one else but you.”
Having stated it so plainly, Cryer naturally ought to have asked in return:
“Why?” or “What exactly are you trying to say?”
But life rarely unfolds as expected.
“I see. Good work.”
With that curt reply, Cryer turned away.
Isaac was genuinely taken aback.
But he had so little time to recover from his astonishment that he urgently cried out,
“Ah, wait! Wait, just a moment!”
Isaac, who rarely panicked in any situation—and even when he did, had never before resorted to such a frantic tone—hurried after Cryer.
“Aren’t you even going to ask why?”
Without the slightest hesitation, Cryer shot back immediately to Isaac’s question,
“I won’t ask.”
Isaac barely managed to grab Cryer as he attempted to vanish before his eyes without a trace of hesitation.
“Please, just ask! Why do I want to impress you instead of Her Highness!”
At Isaac’s nearly desperate plea—reminiscent of someone clutching at trousers—Cryer finally took a proper look at him and let out a faint chuckle.
He was reminded of his first meeting with Olivia.
“How much will it cost!”
Who could have predicted the Imperial Princess herself would cling to his trousers like that?
Well, Olivia herself certainly had anticipated it.
“Trousers? If needed, I was even prepared to lie down right in front of you.”
Olivia had shaken her head then.
“I’d made up my mind—I had to catch you, no matter what.”
Her slightly downturned, round eyes and delicate shoulders belied the determination within.
Though her frame was a bit smaller than average, the Princess’s resolve was utterly at odds with her fragile appearance.
After all, her will to prevent war and survive was harder than any steel.
Was this already the second time?
Because the pink-haired one reminded him so much of Olivia, hadn’t he allowed her to linger nearby?
Noticing Cryer’s softened demeanor, Isaac swiftly offered an answer to the question he hadn’t even been asked.
“The reason I want to impress you rather than Her Highness is because I wish to serve you.”
Cryer gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.
“You’re strong. My own skill isn’t sufficient to judge accurately, but there’s one thing I know for certain.”
Isaac tapped the hilt of his sword.
“If Her Highness took you in at first sight, it wasn’t because of your face.”
With a fox-like smile, Isaac declared confidently,
“It was because of your strength.”
Without giving Cryer a moment’s pause, Isaac immediately bowed deeply, placing his fist over his chest with utmost respect.
“Please take me in. I may not be fit to serve as a page or attendant, but I’ll be useful.”
Cryer gave no reply—but neither did he dismiss him.
He simply took one step forward, then another, closing the distance toward Isaac.
Isaac couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cryer, who moved toward him without a sound—truly like a top-tier predator.
Even the briefest flicker of his gaze away felt as if his throat would be ripped out instantly.
A cold sweat streamed down his back.
“Prove your usefulness.”
Isaac seized the opportunity as Cryer’s voice, low as if rising from an abyss, granted him a chance.
How long had passed since Cryer melted into the darkness—or rather, became the darkness itself and vanished?
Still rooted to the spot, Isaac finally exhaled.
“Hah… hah, hah…”
Though Cryer was already gone, only now could he escape that suffocating pressure that had felt like a hand clamped around his windpipe.
He gently touched his perfectly intact neck and smiled with narrowed, fox-like eyes.
“I’ve made it halfway.”
Wasn’t there an old saying from the Bolshayk ancestors deeply entwined with their lineage: “The beginning is half the journey”?
Thus, Isaac became the first—and last—to set foot deep within the Princess’s palace quarters at midnight and survive.
Though not every powerful figure on the continent would attend, the minor yet notable martial tournament—drawing all the Empire’s most prominent individuals—was fast approaching that morning.
Olivia, having left the Princess’s palace, was now heading toward the outer perimeter of the Imperial Palace, where the Imperial Knights were stationed.
Accompanied by no servants, only one person walked beside her.
“Cryer.”
At her call, Cryer replied with his usual nonchalance,
“Don’t kill anyone, and don’t sever limbs. Minor scratches are fine.”
Stopping abruptly, Olivia narrowed her eyes and looked up at him.
When had he ever prevented her from rising by pressing on her forehead, insisting she needed rest after finishing paperwork? Yet now he insisted on coming along, only to…
Hadn’t he been the one who stubbornly demanded they go together, despite claiming her repeated words were tiresome and insisting she say them just once—knowing full well she’d repeat them anyway?
“Fine.”
Though she said nothing further, Cryer chuckled softly and nodded.
“What’s ‘fine’?”
“I was the one who insisted we come together. But.”
He tapped his sword hilt and added,
“I never asked you to repeat yourself so many times.”
Instead of his sword hilt, Olivia firmly patted his arm.
“Wasn’t it you who said you might not be able to control your strength?”
She struck his steel-like arm with all her might—but her fist felt no harder than a cotton puff, prompting Cryer merely to shrug.
“I’ve never faced the Empire’s swords before. Until I test them myself, I can’t say for sure whether I can subdue them without a single wound…”
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you not to kill or—”
Throughout their exchange, Cryer never once suggested he might lose or be defeated—and Olivia never imagined such a possibility either.
After all, they both knew no opponent could ever overcome him.
For a while, the two bickered relentlessly—unadorably arguing over killing, sparing, or severing limbs—neither giving an inch.
They finally arrived at a place where the air hung thick and heavy.
“This way.”
With complete naturalness, she headed not for the main gate but another path.
Soon, standing before a door cunningly concealed by ivy, Olivia gestured.
“Let’s go through here.”
It was too hidden to be a servants’ passage, yet too obvious for a true secret door—anyone with even a modicum of sharp eyes would spot it quickly.
Stepping through first, Olivia turned back to Cryer and shrugged.
“After enduring four continental wars, I’ve memorized every passage in the palace.”
They reached their destination almost instantly after passing through the door.
Knock knock.
“Come in.”
At the sharp permission from inside, Olivia pulled the doorknob.
Direct sunlight flooded in, making Olivia frown—but a shadow instantly fell over her.
“I humbly greet Your Highness.”
The bespectacled man offered a precise yet exceedingly brief bow, to which Olivia gave a light nod.
“I’ve come unannounced, Commander—but spare me a moment.”
“Your command.”
“A sparring match.”
She, too, cut straight to the point without preamble.
Familiar with Olivia’s manner, the bespectacled man immediately nodded despite her abruptness.
“You won’t need to name your partner—I already know.”
Scarcely had Olivia’s rhetorical question ended when Cryer stepped forward one pace, causing the bespectacled man’s eyebrows to twitch upward.
So this is the famed knight.
Rumors of him had already circulated among the commanders of the Imperial Knights.
“Saw him briefly passing by—definitely not just an impressive facade.”
This commander, one of the few who had glimpsed him from afar—since Cryer never left the Princess’s palace—now assessed him.
Indeed, he’s different from those smooth-faced flunkies swarming the palace.
The commander openly scrutinized Cryer up and down, then jerked his chin.
“Let’s move to the training grounds, Your Highness.”
Before he could finish speaking, Olivia cut in preemptively,
“Don’t even think of saying I should stay here for safety. You know I can ensure nothing dangerous happens—not even a chick’s tear’s worth.”
At her blunt statement, the commander examined Cryer even more closely than before.
After scrutinizing him almost as if dismantling him piece by piece, the commander let out a short sigh.
“No wonder Your Highness speaks so confidently.”
Commander of the Imperial Knights—undoubtedly one of the strongest warriors not just in the Empire, but on the entire continent.
Precisely because of that, he could roughly gauge Cryer’s caliber without exchanging a single sword stroke—merely by observing his build, presence, and Olivia’s single comment.
Thus, Cryer and the bespectacled commander faced each other.
No formal signal or starting call was needed.
The moment Olivia took them both in with a single glance—
Clang!
Clatter-clack!
Sparks flew briefly as blades met, and by the time Olivia blinked once, both men stood again in their original positions, swords lowered.
“My apologies, Your Highness.”
Merely minutes—or perhaps seconds—after crossing swords with Cryer, the commander lowered his blade and bowed toward Olivia.
Blinking rapidly, Olivia opened her mouth.
“Is it over already?”
“Yes. I’ve lost.”
“What?”
When exactly had he lost? It hadn’t even been a few seconds since Cryer and the commander faced off in the arena.
Of course, Olivia—nowhere near their level—couldn’t perceive the exchange of attacks and defenses between them.
Moreover, since this was merely a “sparring match,” such elite warriors could discern each other’s strength and declare a victor instantly.
But still—
“So quickly?”
“Yes. My apologies.”
The commander bowed unwaveringly. Olivia, unable to hide her bewilderment, looked to Cryer—but he, too, remained silent and bowed his head.
Given others were present, his demeanor was perfectly appropriate.
Yet frustration overwhelmed Olivia, and she swiftly approached him.
First, she scanned him up and down for any scratches, then opened her mouth—but Cryer spoke first.
“There’s no need for concern.”
With those words alone, Olivia understood.
Cryer was strong enough to subdue a commander ranked among the continent’s finest knights without inflicting a single injury.
Yet it was absurd to think a single bout could measure the full depth of strength—even Cryer himself remained unaware of its true extent.
Olivia turned toward the bespectacled commander.
“Commander.”
“Yes.”
“Pass this message to all the commanders.”
Thus, on a sunlit day not long before the martial tournament,
every single commander of the Imperial Knights—the Empire’s swords and shields—bowed their heads in humble apology to Olivia, without exception.
Turns Out He’s Been Secretly in Love with Me
One-line summary: He acts like he doesn’t like her but is actually playing hard to get.
Synopsis:
Xu Muzhou like her. He has liked her for a very long time, and through repeated schemes, he finally closed the distance with her.
But this is still far from enough.
He wants to be the one who stands out among her many suitors, to fight for her attention, and to make her take the initiative to pursue him.
_____
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