When the Mad Emperor Suddenly Becomes Sweet Chapter 23

Thanks to Archer letting her stay, Freya had been able to avoid the icy-cold northern wind. She was adjusting to life around here with ease because she was quick-witted. By running soldier errands, she earned some money, and when there was time, she helped Archer.

“I heard the kid is Archer's cousin,” an old-timer had said. At first, many people played pranks on Freya because she was new to the area, but thanks to Archer, that soon dwindled. Meanwhile, it had been half a year since leaving the capital.

“Freya, bring something to wipe with!” Archer called out.

“Okay!” Freya shouted back.

Archer's face was smeared with blood as he returned from a battle. Most days, Freya didn't quite feel like she was living in a barracks near a battlefield. But when she saw Archer covered in blood like this or saw a wounded soldier dying, she was reminded where she was.

When Freya brought him a cloth, Archer wiped his eyes first. “What an annoying war.” He immediately emptied the alcohol that was handed to him and put the cool glass against his head. Finally able to relax, he let out a long sigh, “Freya, you'd faint if you knew who was here.”

“Is it a one-eyed monster who eats children?” Freya joked as she sat in the corner, wiping the daggers. She purposely didn't pay any attention to the outside business. She was content as long as she could open her eyes in the morning and not starve. And saving money had become her main focus.

“How is a sixteen-year-old such a simpleton?” Archer clicked his tongue as he threw a blood-soaked cloth at her. “Sir Lucius has returned from the expedition that was far away.”

There was an emotion that couldn't be hidden in Archer's voice, and Freya mumbled as she continued to wipe the dagger. It was a name even she knew, “That's completely insane, the Crown Prince?”

Archer jumped in surprise at her words. He looked around the barracks and put a finger against his lips, “Keep quiet. You must have multiple lives.”

There seemed to be something even he was scared of, or perhaps he was showing respect. Freya had heard Archer's praise about Sir Lucius all the time while washing his combat boots. Archer had said that his will to drive and his leadership was incredible and that he was a prodigy at swordsmanship. But it wasn't only the kind things she'd heard about Sir Lucius. As she ran errands, she'd overheard all kinds of rumors.

“Lucius has crazy eyes that look bloodthirsty. Anyone freezes when they look at his eyes,” a soldier had whispered. But Freya wasn't curious about whether the rumor was true or not. When would a Crown Prince and she ever interact anyway?

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“But why are you in a war here, Archer?” Freya asked out of curiosity. If Archer only wanted to make money, there were other battlefields. But yet they were stationed in the northern part of Morciani, which was cold, and it was hard to get resources. What was the point of pouring out blood in an underwhelming place like this? And she was concerned that the drunk Archer had hidden nationalism in him.

“That is, how should I say,” Archer hesitated as he was looking for a proper answer. Meanwhile, there was a loud trumpet sound, and the soldiers standing in a cluster split to make room for him. Then Archer fixed his clothing and became very nervous. “It must be Sir Lucius.”

Freya held back her laughter at Archer making such a fuss. What difference did it make to fix his clothing when his hair was a mess? Anyway, she was surprised that she could see Sir Lucius while she'd just been talking about him. Freya had never thought in her wildest dreams that she'd meet a member of the royal family, and she felt nervous because of Archer's reaction.

Freya then saw that Sir Lucius had blonde hair, which didn't suit the black armor on his body. His hair shone in the sunlight, and there was red blood smeared on it which looked like a cherry blossom in bloom. “Wow, why is he so big?” Freya muttered to herself.

Lucius Morciani was very tall, and his shoulders were much broader than Archer's. The strong aura that his body was emitting could make one cower even from far away. Freya now knew that the rumors hadn't been false. Having heard these things about the prince, she found it strange that she couldn't take her eyes off him.

Staring into the insensitive eyes felt scary but also weirdly familiar. And at that moment, out of nowhere, Freya was reminded of someone. Why does he remind me of Ruth?

“You, child! You're supposed to bow your head when you see a royal family member!” Someone shouted at her.

Archer's rough hand pushed her neck down so hard that she squealed, “Hey! That hurt.” But Freya's complaining soon quieted down. She saw the boots soaked in blood and the slimy red blood dripping from the sword, which was making the ground in front of her wet.

“Sir Lucius. Blessings from Diana!” Archer was polite by bringing god into this, which was unlike himself. Freya's mouth dried at such a surprising event.

“Raise your head,” The man's voice was low and cold. It felt like there was a cold aura from the armor in the middle of the warm day.

“L-L-Lucius,” Freya lifted her face while quivering and tried to copy Archer's greetings, but she couldn't. The moment she saw his face, her jaw dropped open. My god! He looks exactly like Ruth. It had been three years since she'd last seen Ruth and thought she'd forgotten him; Freya gasped reflexively.

Chapter end