Chapter 61: Princess: I hate it most

According to the Empire Law, anyone who embezzles more than a hundred gold in military funds is to be executed by beheading.

The entire audience served as witnesses to this trial.

The head rolled with a thud, blood spurted, staining Jon’s bright, heavy armor.

Dripping blood submerged the sunset reflected on his breastplate, making Jon look like a demon god emerging from a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

Silence.

Only Jonathan wept bitterly, clutching the shoulders of his two sons beside him, gripping tightly.

Even after avenging them, the dead would never laugh again.

To seek justice for the dead is, in a sense, also to help the living say farewell.

The valve tightly sealed in Jonathan’s heart finally burst at this moment, pouring out all the grief suppressed for days.

He covered his face, mouth agape, then sobbed uncontrollably.

A few drops of blood also splattered onto Leah.

She hissed and moved away in disgust, but didn’t find it bloody.

After all, she had executed far more people herself than Jon.

She sat on Jon’s shoulder like a girl swinging on a swaying swing, looking down arrogantly at the princess who had long been listed in her little notebook, enjoying the terror and panic in her eyes.

Margaret was already petrified with fear.

She couldn’t imagine that Jon would actually dare to act, dare to lay a hand on a noble! On an Imperial official!

Next… would it be her turn?

It wasn’t until the real threat of death approached that she realized how weak and ridiculous she was—arms trembling like leaves, legs too soft to stand, will powerless to resist.

The strongest thought in her heart was actually… longing for her father.

She remembered being held in her father’s arms as a child, her brothers watching enviously.

She recalled her father assigning her brothers to hard, lowly positions, yet keeping her by his side.

How warm it was then, with nothing to fear, no need to stand in the freezing rain, nor face this utterly wretched man Jon.

She could forever be a proud, willful little girl.

Blood traced a red scar across Jon’s face.

That handsome, sunlit face now appeared sinister and terrifying for the first time in Margaret’s eyes.

Jon suddenly looked up, meeting the princess’s gaze.

Their eyes locked, and in his cold gaze there was no affection or pity—only the purest will of a warrior.

At that moment, Margaret felt as if a giant hand squeezed her heart—her chest stopped, blood froze, breath ceased.

It was a primal fear, engraved in her bones—a prey’s dread before a predator.

“Don’t… don’t kill me… Jon… I’m your future wife…”

The words of begging escaped her lips naturally.

No psychological preparation was needed.

Even more absurd, she had always thought such words would make her sick—after all, every time she thought about marrying a commoner, she felt nauseated, as if a thousand voices were mocking her.

But this time, she felt none of that—instead, it seemed natural, right, as if it should be so.

—Until she caught a trace of human-like mockery in those Pupu eyes.

Like cold water splashed over her.

Only then did Margaret freeze all over, realizing how much royal dignity she had lost without even knowing it.

“Your Highness.”

Jon spoke slowly.

“Do you still remember what you ought to do?”

“I can compensate each of them with two gold Koruns… no, three!”

Margaret blurted out, and just that exhausted her last bit of courage fueled by shame.

Below, Rocky’s eyes lit up.

He was about to speak, but the next second, Jonathan punched him in the head.

“Have some conscience!”

Jonathan growled.

His low roar also stopped many other restless people in the crowd.

Margaret, seeing this, suddenly smiled, feeling a weight lift from her heart.

That sense of control, of having the commoners in the palm of her hand, able to manipulate everything—finally restored the confidence and assurance hidden deep within her.

She regained her arrogance, folded her arms, and sneered at Jon:

“Jon, look at the crowd. It’s not that I don’t want to apologize, but compared to my insignificant apology, what everyone wants more is real gold.”

“Royal dignity cannot be diminished. Jon, as their representative in my judgment, shouldn’t you consider more for them?”

“I have shown great sincerity. This is my mercy as a princess, freely given to these people.”

Jon was slightly taken aback by her words, his neck stiffly turning.

There was silence.

No one spoke from below.

But those pairs of eyes revealed feelings so clear he could recognize them.

People afraid and shrinking back.

People longing for gold.

People angered by the humiliation of the royal family.

And… people who feared him as a tiger.

Three gold coins.

In prosperous times, it was the yearly income from twenty acres of fertile land.

Even for buying grain at the market, it could feed a family of five for a whole year.

He understood.

He understood all these emotions.

He could even hear the words everyone wanted to say but dared not utter:

[Forget it. She’s a princess. If we offend her, how will we live from now on?]

[Jon, don’t be impulsive.]

[Jon, don’t… be too selfish.]

Leah suddenly bounced up and landed on Jon’s helmet, beaming:

“Friend! This is good!”

Jon froze.

“Friend! The princess’s proposal is great!”

Leah looked over the crowd.

“If you want an apology, keep waiting for it! If you want gold, you can collect it from the princess now, then leave town and seek a new life elsewhere!”

Jon frowned and fell into thought.

At that moment, Leah jumped down, grabbed his ear, and said:

“Friend, every Pupu must travel, go a long way, meet many Pupu—some become friends, some do not. Don’t worry too much. Making friends is for happiness!”

“I understand.”

Jon smiled.

Suddenly, he, too, understood this truth.

He was but a mortal, not a god.

He could not satisfy everyone.

Being able to secure a choice for everyone was already enough.

“Wait, wait!”

Margaret stared in disbelief, nearly losing it.

“I didn’t agree! I haven’t agreed yet!”

She was spending this money precisely to avoid the shame of apologizing!

Now, thanks to this damn Pupu’s interference, she’d not only have to spend money but also apologize to the remaining people!

—So what was the point?

—Was she doing charity?

“Friend! Lili wants to play trampoline!”

Leah glared at Margaret threateningly.

The princess clutched her rear in terror.

“Fine! I’ll give! I’ll give! I’ll give everything, okay?”

She pleaded hurriedly.

She knew how much Jon doted on this damned Pupu—if she were tied up in public and made into a trampoline for Pupu, the noble girls in the capital would laugh at her for a year!

“No.”

But Leah cut her off, declaring righteously:

“Lili and Jon are not robbers! Don’t give it all! This is about choice—choose apology, or choose money! Be Lili’s friend, or be the princess’s friend!”

“Are you insane!”

Margaret was about to collapse.

She wouldn’t even accept the money?

What was wrong with this damned Pupu?

Why was she as annoying as a nasty elf!

Jon agreed with this.

He nodded.

“That’s right. We’ll do as Lili says.”

He stared at Margaret.

His stern gaze made Margaret’s heart skip.

The scene of the heavy sword beheading the city lord, the whip striking the thigh, Jon’s angry glare—many scenes flashed in Margaret’s mind, spinning so fast they made her dizzy.

Fear, awe, humiliation—all kinds of emotions mixed, overturning her heart.

Suddenly, she thought of Ananna’s .

First night.

Even if it was fake, did she really have to get involved with such a man?

For some reason, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.

“F-fine.”

Margaret lowered her head, mumbling in agreement.