How The Princess Rewrote Her Tragic Ending - Chapter 107

“I’ll be heading out, then.”

“Already?” I asked as Reynard dusted the shoulder he had been leaning against the wall on.

He looked at me, a puzzled expression upon his face. “Do you not want me to?”

I shrugged. “Erm, I’d have loved to invite you inside, but-”

“I know.” He smiled. “But I’d rather not disrupt. Anyways, I’ll come back in a day or two when I get some things settled.”

I frowned. “What things?”

Vaguely, he stared off into the distance. It seemed as if he did not want to reply, but after the atmosphere had gone silent for much longer than necessary, he sighed and spoke up.

“You remember Uncle Franke?”

I nodded.

“Well, he’s not faring well with the news of his good friend’s passing away. I almost had to slap him to bring him to conscience,” Reynard dragged a hand down his face and grumbled. “And Rosa, too. She’s taken a break from work and is alone at home, so I need to get back to her. Who knows what she’ll do if I let her alone for long.” He mumbled the last part, but I heard it every word for word.

“I hope things get better,” I consoled him as I patted his arm. “Just don’t tire yourself out, alright? And make sure everyone eats lots of good food. I find it pretty comforting at times.”

He gave me a genuine smile as he turned around on his heel. “Will do, mademoiselle. Thanks for your concern,” he said as he waved his hand in the air, bidding me farewell.

I chuckled and turned around to head back inside, but then I noticed something. It was small, and for a moment I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but when I focused on Reynard’s shrinking body, I knew I wasn’t seeing things.

There, right under a little slit in his scarf, was a small, visible patch of purple. The scarf was void of any purple colors, so I wondered what it was.

Was it his…hair?

“No, it couldn’t be,” I whispered to myself as I opened the door. “I must be out of my mind. Nobody had purple hair in this Empire other than me.”

Shaking away all thoughts, I returned to the table where everyone was just finishing up. I helped Mama clear away the bowls of finished soup and put them in the washing.

That morning, when I went back to my new room, I decided to put away Mama’s lily brooch back in its place, right there, under my bed. Carefully, this time, I wriggled under the bed and pulled up the loose plank, which came away much easier now. I got the brooch from my nightside drawer and carefully placed it inside before making sure I wasn’t confusing it with mine.

“What are you doing?”

In my haste to pull myself out from under the bed, I banged my head on the wooden edge and held my scalp in pain.

“Are you okay!?” Sven pulled me out with one, swift movement and made me sit up. “Gosh, that was a loud bang. Where does it hurt?”

I put a hand up at which he stopped talking, and with my other arm, I rubbed at my sore spot which stung like hell. Oh God, why am I always getting involved in such things?

“I’m okay, I think,” I groaned as I looked up at Sven’s worried face. “Thanks.”

He frowned at me as he sat back on the floor. “What were you doing under there anyways?” he asked as he lifted the bed sheet that hung at the sides of the bed.

“No!” I swatted his hands away and he stared at me in puzzlement.

“Huh?”

“Shh, has no one taught you to not peek under a lady’s bed?” When he still seemed confused, I cleared my throat and added, “There might be lady stuff under the shelter of the sheets.”

It took him a minute, but when he finally understood, a deep blush came over his face. I tried to stifle my laughter as I took advantage of his panic and furtively replaced the wooden plank back into its spot.

“Um!” he said, his face as red as a tomato. “I-I-I won’t look anymore. Sorry. So sorry. I’m sorry.”

Finally, I let go and erupted into laughter, even more when his blush deepened down to his neck.

“D-Don’t laugh!” he exclaimed, slapping the wooden floor. “I said I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I breathed as I wiped away a tear. “God… Okay, I won’t laugh anymore.” The hopeful expression on his face made me erupt once more, despite my visible effort not to.

“You said you won’t!” he muttered as he covered his face and leaned back against my nightstand.

“Okay,” I sighed, relaxing. “Okay, I won’t. Did you eat anything?”

He smiled at the subtle change of topic. “I ate an apple. Sorry I wasn’t able to taste your soup.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make it again next week.”

I paused when his smiley expression turned stone cold, almost disapproving.

“What happened?” I asked due to the sudden change in atmosphere.

“Will you even be here next week?” he muttered bitterly, steadily matching my gaze.

I tilted my head, genuinely puzzled. “Why won’t I be?”

Sven raked a hand through his silvery hair, clearly frustrated. I could see that he was debating whether or not to speak his mind. I waited in anticipation. Eventually, he sighed, looking me in the eye again.

“I overheard your conversation with her last night,” he said calmly, clenching his jaw.

“Huh?”

“You said you wanted to leave.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about. I let out the breath I had been holding. Clenching my hands, I assessed the look of betrayal on his face.

“Yes, but that was-”

“You said you wanted to leave,” he said again, clenching his jaw.

I paused. “You already mentioned it, Sven.”

“I can’t believe you want to leave.”

“I don’t-”

He threw his hands up in the air. “Why? Are we lacking something? Is staying at this small place too ill-suited for you?”

“Sven-”

“Are we bad people? Do you not like us because we are poor?”

“Sven!”

My yell made him stop talking, and frustrated, he looked away. I sighed, holding my forehead.

“You’ve muddled it all up!” I cried, crushed by his assumptions. “I would never look upon any one of you with contempt. What is wrong with you? Have I ever once implied that I hated you? Tell me, have I ever?”

Slowly, he shook his head, still looking to the side.

I leaned against the side of my bed, staring at him. “You were half right in your claims.” At this, he flinched, but didn’t say anything. “Yes, I did want to leave. But not because I don’t like this place. It’s like a second home to me, how could I ever?”

I noticed him fold his hand into a fist. I decided to carry on.

“It’s not easy for me to talk about this to just anyone, do you hear me?” I said, tapping on his knee. “I wanted to leave because I felt I was a burden on you all. As if I had disrupted the course of your lives. If it wasn’t for me, none of this-this-this crap! None of it would’ve happened.” I gestured around as I spoke.

At my words, Sven turned to me and scowled as if he couldn’t believe what I had said.

“You’re kidding,” he said plainly, as if he didn’t believe me. I shook my head. “What is wrong with you!? Why would you think you were burdening us?”

“I thought at first, okay?” I cried defensively. “But Mama’s clearly told me that I’m nothing of the sort, and that she liked having me around. Reynard said something along the same lines, so I’m not leaving. Not any time soon..”

Sven frowned. “Reynard? Who’s that?”

“The tall guy I came here with.”

“Oh. I was wondering who was at the door earlier. So it was him.”

I nodded. “Yes.” I disliked going on with this topic. It was as if I was walking over thin ice, so I decided to change the direction of our conversation. “Okay, um. Do you want to play a game?” It was the first thing that came to my mind then, and I regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth.

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t try to change the topic.”

I rolled my eyes. Gosh, this was beginning to stress me out.

“I was just being nice,” I muttered, irritated. “Can you leave? I want to take a nap.” (Seonhee, in fact, did not want to take a nap.)

For a moment, he studied me with narrowed eyes and then stood up. “Fine.” With that, and not a word more, he simply left me alone. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, I leaned back against my bed once more and rested my head back on the thin mattress. I gave a long sigh and stood up, groaning.

I pulled my hair out of my ponytail and they tumbled down to my knees, spreading out evenly. I massaged my scalp to ease them down. My hair had been wavy when I had first come here, but now they had straightened out to their original form.

I felt a small bump at the back of my head where I had hit my head and I rubbed it again. To think I was rubbing a fictional character’s head. A made up character written down by someone. And it didn’t feel fake in any respect; it was all real. So real were my surroundings that I often forgot I was supposed to be living in a fictional character’s body.

I hurt, I bled, I laughed and cried just like any real person would.. I couldn’t imagine what would happen to me if someday, this fictional world was wiped from existence just like it was supposed to from the very start. What would happen to me then? Where will I go?