The Prince Doesn’t Cry From Mere Onions - Chapter 3.1

Bertram Hertz Weichter. Age 25.

The order of succession had been complicated by the rise of his uncle to the throne, but he anyhow lived his entire life as a prince.

Today, in a countryside village, when he happened to hear the words ‘d*mn bum’ for the first time in his life……

“Ahahahaha, ha, ha, delicious, eh? My kid’s cooking skill fell some, so I busted out my skills for the first time in a while.”

He thought that Anna’s mom, Carla, was a kind person.

Though he could not taste, he could understand the meaning behind the chicken that Carla had personally torn, the potatoes completely soaked in the soup that gently came undone in his mouth, and the salt that she prepared for him on the side. This was the commoners’ ‘sincere welcome.’

Bertram nodded his head.

“I thank you for your kindness.”

Relegated to peeling potatoes on the other side of the table, Anna made a face.

Ignoring her daughter’s grumbles, Carla sat across from Bertram and attempted to look into the heart of this uninvited guest.

Even though he’d heard her say ‘d*mn bum’ multiple times, he hadn’t gotten angry but called himself a ‘bum’ instead. In other words, he was not someone who wouldn’t be provoked in most cases. His insides were clearly going to be black.

Carla painfully conjured up a business smile and went back to her point.

“I’m Anna’s mom, Carla. You say you came to repay the debt you have to my husband?”

“Yes. During the war, we received three bulbs such as this as goods. But as I had never heard of its name when borrowing it, we couldn’t find goods of the same to return back to you, so I came to ask how I could repay my debt instead.”

His attitude remained serious from start to finish.

But Carla almost laughed out loud as soon as she saw the picture Bertram offered. A circle with two teeny horns sprouting out of it. What could it be, a baby troll?

“….is it an onion?”

“It is not an onion. He said he was planning to use it for his farm.”

“I can’t think of anything. Anyways, it’s not a product we need.”

“Then how can I repay my debt? If you tell me, I will do my best to follow.”

It was a phrase as good as getting a blank cheque, but this was a situation where depending on who was giving it, it could have as much worth as a chunk of gold or a mere piece of paper.

Carla secretly gave Bertram a once-over.

A man whose build was large and had quite the muscles, but had a thin face. The scars that could be seen here and there told of how he’d rolled about in the middle of the war.

If so, he didn’t seem like a noble who would’ve stayed a step back from the front lines claiming to act as their headquarters; he was most likely a deserter who couldn’t even return home.

And seeing how he’d come all the way here just for his seemingly unimportant debt of this onion-looking thing…

‘He’s clearly here to use that onion as an excuse to beg for some food.’

In other words, it was only right that he was a 쭉정 that should only be fed and kicked out.

Carla smiled sweetly.

“Mr. Bertram. I’m not sure what Anna said, but we don’t need a worker. The young men from the village work in the farm, and Anna is all we need for the restaurant.”

“The restaurant is as large as the palace’s third hall, is it truly possible for one person to manage this place?”

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“Oh my, what a fun comparison. Then have you ever worked in a restaurant before, Mr. Bertram?”

“No.”

“Then you’ll be of no help to us. Please eat this and go.”

“Go….?”

“Yes. As the person who took over all the property and the debts of my husband after he passed, I will tell you in definite terms. You have no need to repay your debts. Please go back.”

Carla spoke firmly. Her words left no room for any misunderstanding.

But Bertram did not recede easily.

“I thank you for your kindness, but I ask that you consider this a little more. The debt is bigger than you think.”

“Big, you say. We have plenty onions on our own!”

“As for onions, I have cut many of them so there will not be much left.”

“….I’m not sure I understand. Anyways, I’m telling you, you don’t need pay the debt.”

“Please think again. Your husband cherished those bulbs quite a lot.”

“That person is dead, and I said that we don’t have any problems now!”

Carla’s voice rose sharply.

Inside the restaurant, people looked at her. Carla gave her customers a look.

A look, asking them to drag out this unreasonable man.

The people sensibly rose from their seats and surrounded Bertram.

“Oi there, young man. If you’re done eating, get up.”

“Yes, I’ve stood up now.”

“….that’s not what I meant.”

The customer looked up to Bertram, who was at least a head taller than him. This guy, even if he was thin, his build was too good. An opponent he did not want to fight.

Instead of the cowering customer, another elderly man patted Bertram’s back.

“I understand your feelings. The food you receive from a local house during the war is a feast you can’t forget for the rest of your life. But if you do this in a shop that doesn’t have any men, how scared must the women be, hm?”

“Neither of them are scared of me. I can tell.”

“You really don’t get it, do you! Hey, Anna. Give him today’s wages and send him off.”

“Excuse me? But I have come to repay my—”

“Stop. Honestly, if you refuse to budge and stay here, the customers will be scared off and probably won’t come. Then Anna’s place will be doomed from today on!”

This last sentence seemed to reach Bertram somewhat. He opened his mouth, as if he was momentarily speechless.

Anna marveled at the elderly man’s persuasion, and Carla shrewdly brought out a money bag in the meantime.