I Reincarnated and Became Friends with the Black Lion Prince! I’ll Make Him Change His Unhealthy Eating Habits so I Won’t Get Eaten by Him - Chapter 2.1
Translator: Michiko
Editor: LastinLine
The person who suddenly appeared, his golden hair fluttering in the air, was, as Faustelaude had said, his brother, the First Prince.
In a dark, cramped room, I huddled together with Faustelaude, the Black Lion prince.
Apparently, that outrageous power was something unique to beastmen.
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He was too tall and I was on my knees, so I couldn’t see his face clearly. But I found out who he was when the ladies, who had supposedly left, appeared one after another.
The first prince, having grabbed Faustelaude like a kitten, handed him over to the lady and began to have a mature conversation with her, “Now that I’ve caught him, I can go to your room today, right?” “Goodness, Your Highness.”
He totally ignored me.
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R bye y zsv sq vbkdtp R oydvle vs pyu, cwv R jdlo vblal oyp ds oyu vbl qkapv rakdnl oswze tkhl xl y nbydnl vs pyu vblx. Tl pllxle xsal kdvlalpvle kd qzkavkdt okvb vbl clywvkqwz zyeu yde iwknjzu zlqv yqvla pyukdt obyv bl oydvle vs pyu.
Ebkzl awcckdt vbl clywvkqwz zyeu’p ypp.
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Mbyv’p bso R, yzsdt okvb Wywpvlzywel, olal vbasod kdvs vbl alqzlnvksd assx.
I was glad the room was gloomy.
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The less light there was, the easier it was on my eyes.
“I thought you were crying.”
“I’m not crying.”
Faustelaude suddenly spoke.
You were the one who was so quiet, I thought you were asleep.
“You cry easily over getting lost. So I thought you’d cry in a dark room too.”
“It’s easier for me in the dark.”
“…Is your eyesight bad?”
His golden eyes shined brightly.
They were like the eyes of a beast lurking in the dark, scary yet very beautiful.
Faustelaude didn’t look away, just like I also didn’t.
“A bit. If it’s too bright, I can only make out the shape of things.”
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“I apologize.”
Faustelaude mumbled a few words of apology, and then he drew closer to me.
The strength of his grip on my sleeve made me wonder if he himself, not me, was afraid of the dark.
It’s not that strange, considering he was probably no older than I was.
I gently put my hand around Faustelaude’s shoulders and hugged him. It seemed like we were hugging each other.
“It’s because I took your glasses.”
“No.”
“Older brother has crushed them. They’re important to you, aren’t they?
“N…no.”
I denied it, without even saying yes.
I would like to affirm it childishly, but I couldn’t go against royalty. After all, he was the child of my father’s employer. In other words, he was sort of like the president’s son.
“I’m sorry. You were brought along just because you were with me…I’m hungry.”
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“Guu,” his stomach growled.
I tilted my head at the hungry prince, it was currently only just past lunchtime.
“Have you not eaten your lunch?”
“Because I ran out in the middle of luncheon.”
“May I ask why?”
“Because it tastes bad.”
“…”
“Guu, Guu,” the prince’s stomach growled louder.
I was too distracted by his stomach growls to hear Faustelaude’s words.
If it tasted bad, couldn’t he, as royalty, make them remake it? Why would he, the person dining , run away?
I stared at the tray that was placed down carefully just before the door was locked when we were thrown into the room.
If I recalled correctly, one of the beautiful ladies said, “Your Highness, you will have to eat this.”
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As for food, I was sure it was on that tray.
Because she said, “Your Highness,” I didn’t touch it.
“If you want to eat, it looks like it’s there. Shall I go get it?”
Did he not want to walk on his own? Was he a selfish prince?
“It was a luncheon with Uncle Simone.”
“Luncheon…”
“You don’t know? Uncle is the high priest of the church. That’s why the meal I have with my uncle is ‘rice’.”
“Okay.”
It was not unusual for the highest ranking clergy to be royalty.
It was just surprising to see “rice” in a very European world.
I tilted my head, not quite understanding the connection between clergy and “rice”.
“You. Since when have you arrived in our country? Have you never heard of “rice”?”
“I just arrived today.”
When I told him honestly, Faustelaude jumped up with astonishment.
He got up with just the power of his abdominal muscles. It was amazing, even though he’s a young child.
“I see. My country has the divine protection of the saint. “Rice” was given to us a hundred years ago by the saint.”
“I see.”
I wondered if the country believed in the saint and nodded. I also wondered if she was an agriculture reformer, and thought, if it was rice, I would like to eat too.
The staple food of my native country, Gemma, was bread, typical of European countries.
I guess eating “rice” was unique to this country.
“It tastes very bad.”
“Huh?”
“Usually it has flavor, but when I eat with my uncle, it doesn’t have any. It’s just white ‘rice’.”
“Even white rice is sweet and tasty when you chew it…”
The taste buds of Japanese people from my previous life came out unintentionally.
If you chewed it, it was flavorful and tasty, though. Of course, it would be best if there was laver or pickles.
“You say the same thing as my uncle, little guy. You’ve never even had it.”
“If you’re hungry, wouldn’t it be okay if it tastes a little bland? Why don’t you eat it?”
I was worried about the endurance of a six-year-old since his stomach was growling too much.