Chapter 113 Love is Like Flowing Water. She couldn't answer, could she? ...
The cold wind howled and the horse's hooves pounded.
Andra's team swiftly traversed the withered grasslands, rapidly reaping the fruits of years of hard work.
She has always been the little princess of Hetuya, possessing the temporary supreme right of succession. At the same time, she has been known as a gifted prodigy since childhood, and even as a hostage, a small group of people are willing to bet on her.
This group of Hetuya people had once infiltrated Norlana, but after Andra became the Prince of Norlana, they decisively returned to their homeland.
They formed caravans partly under the Marigold Merchant Guild, and as Princess Eleanor's businesses flourished, Andra's "private stash" also grew.
The wives are one, and more and more clever people have tied themselves to her chariot, hoping that the two princes can carry them all the way to the heavens.
Andra took stock of her cavalry, then surveyed the lush pastures they had occupied, gazing at her loyal tribe and the cloud-like flocks of sheep... a sense of triumph welled up within her.
Based on previous intelligence, she quickly secured a strategic location on the only route to a water source.
After all, Attila will eventually return here after killing her mother. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they met again on a narrow road?
Even if Attila loses the first battle to Alisa after fighting her mother, she can still start the War of the Wolf King with Alisa according to tradition and gain everything under the spotlight.
Blood surged through his veins, and Andra's smile widened as he gazed at the rising sun.
One day passed, then the second, the third... and by the fifth day, the spies brought the latest intelligence.
"...What does 'mutually assured destruction and cause of death unknown' mean?"
Andra narrowed his eyes, and the person responsible for delivering the message immediately prostrated himself on the ground.
"Your Highness, the traitor Attila and the great King Aguno... are both dead, and Princess A-Alissa is on the run."
Fleeing?
Andra was both amused and exasperated: When did Alisa become so cowardly? She was throwing away such a great opportunity. With her mother and sister dead, shouldn't she take a gamble and try to seize power in Hetuya?
Even though she believed herself to be far superior to Alisa, Andra found the Queen's reaction very strange.
Is she really that self-aware? Unlikely. She's probably just terrified by some intelligence.
"Follow me, everyone! We must catch up with the royal court within seven days!"
"oh--"
Andra, full of high spirits, led his light cavalry in pursuit and successfully intercepted the migrating royal tent on the evening of the fourth day.
Curious, she reined in her horse and looked around.
The knights outside the tent saw her gaze wander, a complex mix of emotions that defied description.
They didn't rush forward as if they had seen a savior, nor did they quickly surround them as if they had faced an enemy. What was wrong with them?
Before Andra could figure it out, a scream suddenly came from inside the tent.
"Andra?! She still won't let us go?!"
One of her impatient knights ran over and ripped open the tent, only to be kicked away by the person inside.
"Get out! You lackey!!"
Alisa charged out, wielding a long sword and cursing. Her golden eyes were bloodshot, and she turned to her, letting out a roar of "Ah!"
Is she crazy?
Andra curled his lip and drew his longsword with a clang.
"Come on, come on Andra, I'll kill you too... Waaaaah!"
Alisa scratched her cheek painfully with her other hand, her mind filled with chaotic pressure: her mother and sister who had died suddenly, the betrayal of various tribes, terrible assassins and poisons, and... her hungry, helpless tribe.
Fortunately, Andra is back.
The abstract crisis became a concrete danger, and she was finally able to stop thinking—to blame everything on the enemy in front of her.
"Ahhh—" Alisa launched a "brave" charge at the horse.
Andra moved his lips.
She desperately wanted to call everyone over to witness a fairer and more respectable showdown with her sister, even if it meant more deaths and injuries.
She didn't want to just kill a madman who wasn't even properly dressed in armor.
Unfortunately, the madman didn't want to play along and had already rushed to the front of the warhorse in the blink of an eye.
call.
Andra took a deep breath and swung his right hand in a horizontal chop.
Her hands were too steady, her heart too cold, so much so that Alisa's body was not yet aware of her death, her legs still moving forward with inertia.
Whoosh—thud.
The beautiful head flew high into the air, spinning as it fell onto the grass.
The body finally lost its balance and fell helplessly to the ground.
Tsk.
Andra's eyes dimmed slightly; this kind of battle was simply too ugly and utterly boring.
After Alisa fell to the ground, she subconsciously raised her head and scanned her surroundings—the knights, whose eyes were already wandering, lowered their heads in silence after the "King's" death.
Some even threw their weapons on the ground and curled up like worms.
...Who is this disheartened look on your face for?
From the moment he stepped onto the grassland and saw signs of human habitation, Andra sensed that something was amiss.
This inexplicable implication became even more irritating after she killed Alisa.
Impatient with talking to these worms, she simply dismounted and strode toward the royal tent.
Attila didn't die?
Aguno didn't die?
Is it full of ambushes?
"Whatever, I don't care what dangers you may face"—she cleaved open the canopy door with a single sword stroke, her pupils contracting sharply.
The room was filled with the rich scent of incense, but beneath the fragrance, a musty smell followed closely behind.
Andra couldn't help but take a half step back.
She had thought she had no feelings for Hertuya's family: a mother full of malice and fear, a cold mother, a good-for-nothing and a troublemaker... but when she saw the woman in the tent, she still felt a tearing pain in her heart.
The beautiful woman with a full head of gorgeous long hair in my memory now has gray hair. She is holding a corpse that has long since lost its warmth but has not yet decomposed in her hands, and her eyeballs are sunken deep in their sockets.
"Ah... Ali... Ah, it's you."
Those eyes that always looked at her with disdain were now just two shriveled raisins, but the moment they locked onto her, they suddenly burst forth with flames of hatred!
“It’s you—Andra!!” Her nightingale-like voice, full of pride, was hoarse as she scrambled to her feet, her knees scraping the ground.
Halfway up, the queen trembled and fell onto the corpse, howling at the standing figure: "Good—good, good! You survived! You, you are her dog!! Hahahahahaha."
She had no more tears left, and her throat was gurgling: "Gurgle... That demon, that demon poisoned her, and... it will definitely poison you too...!"
The queen raised her finger as if in a curse, pointing directly at her daughter, whose face was filled with bewilderment.
"There are no living people left, hahaha, she, her killer, took... took... all of them, hehehahahahaha."
All? All of what?
Andra lunged at her mother and caught her as she fell backward.
She had never hugged her mother since she could remember; so that arrogant beauty was actually quite gentle...
Tears welled up in her eyes.
Andra knelt blankly for a while, then numbly stood up, leaning on his sword.
Her brain was still working; she temporarily ignored her mother who had stopped breathing and was only focused on knowing one thing.
How many people did Eleanor kill? Why did she kill so many people?
Andra didn't know her mother, her mom, or even her sister and relatives.
But Eleanor was different; she thought she understood her.
Whether as a little princess or a little princess, in her mind Eleanor was that sickly, vulnerable girl who needed protection and was always targeted, yet she was still stubborn and kind.
Andra was very familiar with poison and assassins. She had witnessed Eleanor's suffering after being poisoned and had personally protected her from wave after wave of assassins.
So what do these two words have to do with Eleanor? She can't connect them with her beloved.
Pat-pat, pat-pat.
During her dazed state, the loyal cavalrymen arrived, and they stood anxiously outside the door, awaiting their leader's summons.
"Go and find out." Andra stepped out from under the ripped curtain, stiffly ordering someone, "What exactly happened in the royal court? Go—go and find out who has died recently, and how they died."
......
After everything had happened, Andra finally obtained the complete intelligence.
A small portion of it came from her spies and "loyal subjects" who wanted to pledge allegiance to the last princess.
But the biggest source of information was Eleanor's people; she learned for the first time that this kind and beautiful lover—the sage of Norlana—maintained such a vast power in Hetuya.
Moreover, regardless of whether they were born in Norlana or Hertuya, this group trusted Eleanor far more than she did.
They had probably received orders from Eleanor to "confess carefully afterward," and cautiously explained to her the reasons for doing so.
The reason for using poison was to exhaust them before they could cause internal strife, thus minimizing the number of people affected by the battle.
“So Attila did not rebel,” Andra said coldly.
“Yes, she didn’t have time.” The Nolana spy readily admitted, “The riots at the royal court were indeed… a sort of assassination attempt.”
Her eyes were innocent: Attila and Aguno were going to die anyway, weren't they? Being poisoned would save a lot of people from being harmed.
Andramo gripped the hilt of his sword, his voice hoarse: "What about my mother, and so many others—why aren't they even spared?!"
"Her Majesty the Queen is not on His Highness's list, and His Highness Eleanor never intended to harm her..."
The scout quickly explained, "As for the others on the list, we completely trust Your Highness's judgment."
yes.
Andra bit her lip: Eleanor was a "wise sage," and all her actions were "correct."
The seeds of doubt were being sown... and Eleanor, true to her nature, could even "foresee" this.
After Andra buried her mother, her mother, Alisa, and even the mutilated body of Attila, a travel-worn figure came up behind her, panting.
"Andra!"
Her lover called her name tremblingly and hugged her from behind.
Eleanor's sobs were so moving; she knew that if she turned around, she would be completely captivated by her lover's tears.
Andra stood silently before the tombstone, not questioning Eleanor about why she had assassinated those people.
In any case, her intelligent lover will surely be able to produce a thick stack of evidence and reasons to tell her how deserving these people are.
She asked only one question in a soft voice: "Why did you spread the news in advance that my tribe was hoarding food and disregarding human lives?"
Eleanor moved her lips, wanting to explain that she not only spread these rumors, but also secretly sought to destroy the reputation of all the old nobles of Hetuya among the common people.
But she read "understanding" in Andra's expression.
Andra knew the answer to that question; what she really wanted to hear was the answer to the next one.
“I… the coming cold disaster is terrifying, and I want to do my best to protect them—to protect the people of Hetuya.”
Eleanor answered the first question with hopeful eyes.
"Alright then."
Andra held her lover's shoulder, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"Aren't my clansmen and relatives human beings?"
"I just want to protect more..."
Andra gritted his teeth, a smile that sounded more like a cry: "So—how much preferential treatment can I, and the people I care about, get from you? Ha, the same as a beggar on the street?!"
As she spoke, she roared, "Tell me, Eleanor! What am I to you? A dog? Ugh."
The girl stood on tiptoe and kissed her lips hard, salty tears mingling together until she sobbed uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry."
She kept apologizing, and the pain in her eyes was incredibly genuine.
Andra instinctively hugged his lover, and the words "It's okay" almost slipped out.
But reason gave a cold laugh.
She couldn't answer, could she?
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The author says: At certain moments, they are so alike.
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