The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9
And in the next moment, the veins on Cryer’s hand stood out.
“Guh… guhh… guhhhh…”
The trash who wanted to live scratched and thrashed desperately against Cryer’s hand clawing at his throat, but it was all in vain.
Before long, the trash’s struggling gradually subsided, and soon came to a complete stop.
—Thud.
Cryer glanced down at the miserable corpse sprawled coldly across the marble floor, then turned away.
His shadow stretched long, following the moonlight that had finally emerged.
★★★
—Knock knock.
Olivia, buried in paperwork in her study even in the dead of night, raised her head at the sudden knock.
“Come in.”
Before her permission had even fully left her lips, Cryer appeared silently through the door that had opened without a sound.
“Cryer?”
Olivia’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit at the unexpected visitor.
“What’s going on?”
“The light was on.”
“I still have work left. Probably won’t be able to sleep in my chambers tonight either.”
Cryer nodded as he watched Olivia wince, letting out a soft groan from the stiffness in her neck after shrugging her shoulders lightly.
“Good choice.”
It was an utterly odd reply to someone clearly overworked and unable to rest properly.
Olivia set down the pen she’d been gripping tightly and stared at him intently.
“What do you mean by that?”
His answer was as casual as if he’d merely commented on how pleasantly cool the night was.
“There was some trash trying to force himself on you, so I dealt with him on my way here.”
“Oh, right. Trash disposal…”
His reply sounded so unserious that Olivia nodded lightly before suddenly freezing.
“Wait—trash?”
“At this hour, anyone loitering near the princess’s chamber secretly couldn’t possibly have decent intentions.”
Force. Trash. This hour. Secretly.
Olivia’s brow furrowed deeply as she pieced together those sparse words from his curt explanation into a clear picture.
“Y-yeah, that makes sense. You dealt with him, then?”
“Yes.”
“How exactly did you ‘deal’—… Never mind. Forget it. Don’t tell me.”
She knew Cryer wouldn’t have simply called the palace knights to handle the matter.
Besides, she wasn’t particularly curious about the trash’s fate, so Olivia quickly changed the subject.
“I was just reviewing something related to you—perfect timing.”
She then pulled a small portrait from the stack of documents.
“Is it… similar?”
Olivia narrowed her eyes, comparing the palm-sized portrait with Cryer.
At least the hair color matched, and the eye color was somewhat close…
Cryer settled slowly onto the sofa near Olivia’s desk, sinking deep into its backrest and crossing his legs at ease.
“Similar to what?”
Olivia stared at him for a moment, then tossed the portrait away and shook her head.
“No, you really don’t look alike at all.”
How on earth could anyone think this portrait resembled that man?
Even if their outward appearances were somewhat alike, no one could ever replicate the tempest swirling within those crimson eyes.
The eyes of the man who ignited a continent-spanning war all by himself—and ended it just as singlehandedly.
Was it madness?
Without even realizing it, Olivia stepped closer to Cryer and peered directly into his eyes.
His murky, night-tinted red irises swirled chaotically.
Countless torrents of emotion surged there—emotions no outsider could ever grasp, perhaps not even Cryer himself.
Then, quite suddenly—
Out of nowhere, Olivia caught a faint trace of sorrow in those turbulent, hollow eyes.
It lasted only a fleeting instant, so faint and barely there…
“You’re close.”
At the slow murmur brushing right past her ear, the fine white hairs on the nape of Olivia’s neck stood straight up.
Seeing her frozen in place, Cryer lightly tapped her shoulder.
“Aaah!”
Only then did Olivia scramble backward, frantically rubbing the goosebumps that had risen on her arms.
Watching her hunch her shoulders and emit faint hissing breaths like a startled, frightened cat, Cryer merely shrugged.
“I was perfectly still.”
It took a while longer for her heart, pounding so hard it felt ready to leap from her throat, to finally settle.
In the meantime, Cryer had picked up the palm-sized portrait Olivia had been comparing him to.
“You thought I resembled this?”
“No, not at all.”
Olivia repeated it twice, dead serious.
“You don’t look anything alike.”
Cryer set the portrait down and ran a hand along his jaw.
“It’s been far too long since I last saw my own face properly.”
“There’s a mirror right ther—”
“No. More importantly, what is all this?”
Cryer gestured toward the small portrait Olivia had discarded and the pile of documents surrounding it.
“Information.”
“‘Information,’ huh.”
He pulled out one of the documents and tilted his head.
“Is something this pointless really considered ‘information’?”
“We won’t know if it’s pointless until time passes.”
Cryer stared silently at Olivia, who nodded firmly, then spoke.
“The fact that the man mentioned in these papers ate two candies today doesn’t seem like it’ll ever become important, no matter how much time passes.”
Olivia could only purse her lips, unable to find a retort, as Cryer tossed the document aside carelessly and abruptly switched topics.
“Speaking of which, I heard there’s been an incident happening in the streets.”
At Cryer’s words, Olivia’s ears perked up.
“You heard?”
“Aren’t you going to ask what incident?”
“I already know what it is. I mean—did you hear?”
Repeating the same question with sparkling eyes, Olivia asked bluntly,
“From whom?”
Though it seemed odd, to Olivia it was a perfectly natural question.
Ever since he’d stayed in the imperial palace, she’d never seen him speak to anyone other than her.
Cryer shrugged lightly.
“I do have ears, you know.”
“You were eavesdropping?”
“Would you really call it eavesdropping?”
At his ambiguous answer, Olivia blinked once, then nodded.
“Oh, so you just happened to overhear.”
Her unusually quick acceptance made Cryer ask in return,
“Aren’t you going to inquire further?”
“You once told me something.”
“What?”
“Before this current life, when you returned.”
As Olivia counted off on her fingers, she drifted back into memory.
It must have been her third regression, after returning from her second death.
The palace had fallen, and she’d knelt before Cryer’s blade, baring her neck.
Even then, facing death, Olivia had tried to maintain at least some dignity as princess when she asked,
“How did you find me?”
Yes—she’d been in the deepest, most secret chamber of the palace,
a place known only to the imperial bloodline, passed down solely to the emperor and heir.
Yet Cryer had found her instantly, as if he’d known exactly where she was.
Recalling this, Olivia hardened her expression, furrowed her brow, and spoke in the lowest voice she could manage.
“Your breathing came through the wall—I heard it.”
A faint ripple passed over Cryer’s eyebrow. After studying Olivia silently for a moment, he spoke.
“You’re imitating me just now, aren’t you?”
Most would have been embarrassed, but aside from slightly flushed cheeks, Olivia nodded brazenly.
“Well, who else? You—you yourself said you heard my breathing through the wall.”
She shook her head and continued,
“So the next time I died, I even tried holding my breath as long as possible.”
“And?”
“He said he could still hear my heartbeat.”
When Olivia fell silent, a quiet stillness settled between them.
It wasn’t a comfortable silence, so after holding back for a moment, Olivia opened her mouth to speak—but stopped herself.
Cryer seemed lost in thought.
Just as Olivia finished one stack of documents and reached for another in the tomblike quiet, Cryer finally broke the long silence.
“My hearing may be better than most people’s, but I can’t hear someone’s heartbeat or breathing through a wall.”
At that, Olivia’s long eyelashes fluttered rapidly like butterfly wings caught in a strong gust.
After sputtering wordlessly for a while, she shot to her feet.
“What? So everything you said back then was a lie?”
She barely managed to suppress the next words that rose to her tongue.
Lying to someone on the verge of death—how barbaric!
As if reading her thoughts, Cryer shook his head.
“I’m not foolish enough to lie to someone about to die.”
“Oh, right, of course…”
Olivia nodded in relief, then suddenly paused.
If the Cryer from back then hadn’t lied… what about the Cryer now?
“I’m not lying now either.”
“Then…?”
This time, the answer didn’t come immediately.
Cryer slowly clenched and unclenched his fist, as if weighing something, his brow deeply furrowed.
Watching him, Olivia abandoned her documents and reached for the nearby pastries.
With both hands full like an autumn squirrel’s stuffed cheeks, she walked straight to Cryer.
“Princess? What are you—”
The moment their toes nearly touched, she dumped the pastries from her hands onto him.
Though his lap was now covered in crumbs, Olivia paid it no mind—in fact, she picked one up and shoved it toward his mouth.
“Eat this.”
At the sudden, forceful gesture, Cryer’s eyebrow twitched upward, but Olivia stood firm.
“Eat it. It helps your mind work better.”
“I was just lost in thought for a moment…”
Before he could finish, Olivia nodded rapidly up and down.
“I know. It’s just…”
She just couldn’t bear the thought of him sinking again into that festering solitude, all alone.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say the rest aloud.
Seeing only her lips tremble, Cryer didn’t press further and instead changed the subject.
“Princess.”
“Hm?”
His gaze lingered near his legs, now messily scattered with colorful crumbs.
“For a princess, you seem to have lost quite a few things.”
He didn’t specify what exactly she’d lost, but Olivia quickly replied,
“Oh, things like dignity, decorum, or proper etiquette?”
She gave a dry laugh, picked up one of the pastries she’d dumped on his legs, and nibbled it.
As the intensely sweet morsel melted instantly on her tongue, she soon spoke again.
“Because I already know that none of those things matter when I’m with you. So I’ve decided not to waste time on meaningless acts.”
Cryer reached out as a bitter smile spread across Olivia’s lips.
His fingertips brushed lightly past her lips—instinctively tensed—and he immediately brought those fingers to his own mouth, tasting them.
“Sweet.”
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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