If You Take the Enemy Prince as Your Knight

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The official residences of the imperial princesses who have been formally appointed were located in the eastern annex palace. The entrance to my chambers was adorned with beautiful patterns and an intricately embossed silver bird, which led to it being named the Silver Bird Room. Being the third most luxurious room in the annex place, the Silver Bird Room was also a measure of my practical status as a princess.

“Put him on the bed.”

The imperial guards who had carried him out fulfilled my final command and withdrew. As soon as the doors to my chambers were securely locked, my maids let out their restrained breaths and began speaking one after another.

“Oh my, goodness. Her Highness has brought a man into her bedroom. This is unprecedented.”

“This was bound to happen, Lady Demia. Let’s not make a fuss.”

The lively, chatty girl with short brown hair was Demia. The woman with a calm demeanor and short dark green hair, like a stoic aide, was Hamel.

Hearing the chatter of my loyal and cherished maids, I finally felt the tension that had built up from facing the mad emperor begin to dissipate. It was the kind of relief one feels upon stepping into a safe haven.

“But he looks like he’s on the verge of death. I wonder if he’ll even be able to serve Her Highness like this. It’s not very reassuring.”

“He’s certainly in bad shape. But if he’s Her Highness’s liking, then so be it.”

I would have let them chatter more, but now was not the time.

“Hamel, the doctor?”

“He will arrive shortly.”

“Demia, burn some incense with pain-relieving effect.”

“I did that before Your Highness even arrived.”

She must have arranged it the moment I stepped out of the main palace audience chamber. The information network spread throughout the Imperial Palace would have already informed them that I had brought back a critically wounded prisoner of war.

I sat on the stool Hamel had placed for me and looked down at him. His face, partially visible beneath the bandages, was contorted in deep agony. It would have been better if he could at least groan properly, but even his parted lips barely let out a sound. It wouldn’t be surprising if he let go of life at any moment.

“Your Highness, the palace doctor has arrived.”

The middle-aged man, whose hair was starting to gray, frowned the moment he saw the patient and immediately drew the bed curtains. He claimed it was to shield my eyes from such filth.

The basin of clean water turned red multiple times as it was replaced, and the floor around the bed became littered with soiled bandages and empty medicine bottles.

“How is he?”

“Terrible.”

The palace doctor finally pulled back the curtains. The man, who had previously looked like a filthy, half-dead corpse, now appeared to be a cleaner, half-dead corpse.

“it would be faster to count the places of his body that aren’t injured. I’ve treated his internal injuries with medicine and realigned his broken bones. His eyes—if we had been even a little later, it would have been irreparable. With consistent treatment, he will recover. The problem is…”

“It’s his mana core, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Unlike bones and flesh, a mana core could not be treated with medicine or potions.

“For a knight, the mana core should be on the right side of the chest. His is completely shattered. It’s the equivalent of a normal person having no heart at all. His career as a knight is over.”

I responded nonchalantly. “Then just restore it.”

“Yes? The only person capable of restoring a shattered mana core is His Majesty, a being akin to god in this Empire. Such a grace is reserved for knights who have achieved great feats, not for a pitiful prisoner.”

This was precisely why so many who wield mana swore unwavering loyalty to the mad emperor—because there was something in it for them.

“Even thinking about it again, it’s truly an unparalleled level of dominance. Long live to His Majesty the Emperor!”

The doctor’s sudden flattery made me uncomfortable.

“Doctor, let’s be precise with our words.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s not something only His Majesty can achieve. It’s something that only those with the same level of power as His Majesty can accomplish.”

“T-That’s true…”

I pretended not to notice the impudent glance the doctor gave me as if to say, ‘But that’s not you, is it?’ More importantly, the bandages he had just applied were already turning red again.

The doctor let out an awkward cough, watching for my reaction. “Forgive me for saying this, but I couldn’t treat his burns and lacerations.”

“I must humbly inform you, Your Highness, that I was unable to treat the burns and lacerations.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve already exhausted the supply of potions allotted to Your Highness for this month…”

“You did well. You may leave now.”

“Ah, yes. I shall take my leave, Your Highness!”

After dismissing the doctor, I turned to my maids and gave my next order. “We must get him healed quickly. Fill the bath with all the potions in my chambers.”

Demia gasped. “Your Highness has been collecting those for ten years. Just one of them even worth a house in the suburbs.”

“You certainly keep up with market prices, Demia. Fill it.”

“Yes.”

A wheeled bathtub was brought beside the bed, and five entire cabinets’ worth of potion bottles were emptied into it. The most expensive bath in the world was being prepared.

“Your Highness, you’re not going to use the highest-grade potion, are you? That one’s worth a mansion…”

Demia was clutching a particularly dazzling bottle like a precious treasure. That potion was practically my extra life—I only had one.

Just then, a faint groan came from the bed. He was desperately trying to lift his upper body.

“Kyaa! The corpse is moving, Your Highness!”

“That palace doctor may be a sycophant, but he seems to have some skill.”

Ignoring the chatter between Demia and Hamel, I approached him. I gently pushed his shoulders to lay him back down, but suddenly, his hand grabbed my wrist.

“How dare you lay hands on Her Highness!”

I silenced Hamel and Demia with a glance while keeping my eyes fixed on him. Beneath the bandages covering his eye, his well-shaped lips seemed like they had something to say. With a grip as desperate as his plea, he barely managed to choke out.

“Don’t, heal, me.”

What?

“Please, let… me, die…”

“…”

The strength in his grip faded. Having said what he wanted, he had lost consciousness again. His hand, which had slipped from my wrist onto the sheets, lingered in my vision. As I silently looked down at it, Hamel and Demia approached me.

“Your Highness, I know his type well. He’s going to try to take his own life.”

“Exactly. He’ll just turn around and be ungrateful even if you save him. So, Your Highness, should we return the potions in their bottles?”

“Demia.”

“Yes?”

I gazed lovingly at Demia’s hopeful expression before swiftly snatching the highest-grade potion from her grasp.

“Ah! Your Highness!”

I smiled coldly. “I can’t just let him die. Put him in the bath.”

In this hellish world, if even he were to die, how could I muster the strength to fight for my own survival?

With a splash, he was submerged. His broad-shouldered body was carefully placed in the bathtub. The potion bathwater, tinged with blood, slowly began to clear—a sign that his wounds were clotting and healing. The upper part of his chest remained above the water, so it didn’t get the potion’s effect. Using a small wooden ladle, I scooped the potion and poured it over his neck and shoulders.

His expression showed that much of his pain had subsided, but there was still no sign of him regaining consciousness. Despite the chill of the bathwater seeping into his body and the discomfort of having no support for his head, his mind seemed to be lost somewhere far from reality.

“Everyone, leave.”

“But the treatment for his face is not yet complete, Your Highness.”

“I will handle it. Leave us.”

Here’s the English translation for you:

The maids obediently withdrew, closing the bedroom door behind them. Now, it was just the two of us.

“…”

Had my bedroom ever been this quiet? I reached out and touched the surface of the bathwater, creating a small splash just to break the silence.

I slowly moved behind him, standing there momentarily before massaging his shoulders with my fingertips. As I worked my way up, I wrapped both hands around his defenseless neck. After feeling the pulse in his throat for a moment, I pulled his unconscious head back as far as it would go so I could clearly see his face from where I stood behind him. Stroking his cheek gently, I then carefully untied the bandage covering his eyes.

“I didn’t want to do this by force.”

…Even as I said it, the words sounded hypocritical to my own ears, especially considering how forceful my next actions were. I pried open his left eyelid with my fingers and poured a top-grade potion directly onto his unfocused eye.

“Ugh…”

The potion trickled over his eye, down his nose, and into his mouth, making him gasp as though he were suffocating. But the real source of his suffering was something else entirely.