Kidnapped Princess C6

Chapter 6

“‘Trash Princess,’ you say…?”

No matter how I looked at her, she was nothing but a frail, abandoned child—a princess in name only, neglected and uncared for. She was so small. I felt utterly foolish for expecting a graceful, mature beauty.

The girl didn’t even move her lips, only staring up at me blankly. What should I do with this pitiful little princess…

Even if I was a demon, the thought of taking a child like this away to be my bride stirred my conscience. Besides, she was abandoned. Would the humans even consider a peace treaty if I kidnapped a forsaken princess like her?

A castaway, treated as useless, not a stunning beauty—no, wait, she probably will be one someday.

Despite the dirt smudging her face, her golden hair shimmered faintly, fluttering like fine golden silk. For a moment, I thought gold dust had been sprinkled in the air. Her eyes reminded me of a deep, tranquil lake. If she were bathed and groomed, she’d look like a little angel.

She had the features of one destined to become beautiful.

But there was a greater issue. Her divine bloodline clearly hadn’t diluted—her very presence shimmered faintly, radiant proof that she was deeply favored by the gods. In fact, her light outshone even that of the boy called the Hero.

The brilliance stung my eyes. Still, I could see that her divine aura was unrefined—untamed. If she learned to harness it properly, she’d grow into a being powerful enough to threaten even the demons.

I gazed at her quietly, then decided to speak.

“Hmm… Princess?”

The girl gave no response. She just kept staring at me blankly. Her pale cheeks seemed faintly flushed…

Could it be—was she happy that someone had finally come to see her?

As I studied her condition more closely, I noticed smudges of dirt and green stains around her lips. My eyes drifted to the overgrown patch of wild grass around her feet. Countless weeds and unknown plants had sprouted thickly.

A bad feeling settled in my gut. Surely she hadn’t been… eating them?

Then I looked down—and there it was. In her tiny hand, clutched tightly, was a handful of grass.

“…Those bastards.”

How long had she been without food, that she was forced to eat weeds? My throat burned and my eyes stung—not because she reminded me of my own miserable past.

If one has abundant land, that wealth should be shared! How could a child like this be left to survive alone in such a place? A parent must take responsibility for their offspring!

When I had first fallen into this world—into the Demon Realm—it had been the same. I’d nearly died a dozen times.

There had been nothing edible. I’d eaten strange plants, nearly devoured by the man-eating flowers that grew there; drank from a stream, only to realize it was poisoned and vomit blood.

No fish, no animals. I had to fight bizarre, monstrous beasts—what humans called “magical beasts”—in one-on-one combat just to secure some meat, only to find that was poisonous too.

The gods said they’d given me a “strong body.” For a while, I thought they’d given me the body of a sunfish instead.

I vomited blood constantly—sometimes just from breathing.

Later, I learned that the Black Forest was saturated with poison—that the air itself was toxic, and every living thing within it carried venom.

Demons have natural resistance to poison, yes—but that arrogant god hadn’t considered the basics. He just stuffed me with magia and muscle, thinking that would make me “strong.” I suffered needlessly because of his carelessness.

It’s a miracle I didn’t die. As the god said, my body was durable, at least. But that’s a memory I’d rather not relive.

And yet, this tiny girl—she had survived all on her own. That was nothing short of extraordinary.

If people didn’t even know she existed, then it was clear she had no maid caring for her. I looked around—there wasn’t a single adult nearby.

No warmth. No human presence. Nothing.

Then I heard a gulping sound—her throat bobbing as she swallowed. Our eyes met for an instant, and my heart dropped.

“Hey! Stop that! Don’t eat that!”

She really was eating the weeds!

I rushed over and lifted her up. She was feather-light, frighteningly so, her thin body all bones beneath her tattered rags. The smell—filth and neglect—made my nose wrinkle.

Pity welled up inside me. I pried open her mouth and pulled out the chewed weeds, tossing them to the ground.

“You can’t just eat whatever you find! You have no idea what kind of poison that could have!”

If she ate what I had when I first arrived, she’d be dead in minutes.

“Ugh—hic!”

“Oh—hey, hey! Did that hurt?”

Her big, round eyes welled with tears, trembling as they caught the sunlight and sparkled like tiny jewels. Her dirty little face and tear-stained cheeks struck something deep inside me.

I’m weak against crying children—especially beautiful ones.

I panicked. I hadn’t meant to scare her! I just didn’t want her to poison herself. But now I felt like some kind of villain. Still, I couldn’t exactly let her eat weeds, could I?

She looked like she might burst into tears, but she gripped her tattered skirt tightly and held back. Like a child who’d been told never to cry, no matter what.

“Don’t cry,” I murmured softly, pulling her into my arms and patting her back gently. “There, there… Don’t cry. Uncle’s not a bad person. I’m sorry about earlier, okay?”

What a mess. I’d come all the way to the royal castle, and this is what I find. I sighed heavily.

“There’s no maid assigned here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Didn’t think so… Your mother was a maid, right? What about her?”

“I’m not sure. I heard she died five years ago.”

“So you’ve been alone for at least five years…”

“How old are you, do you know?”

“She was born before the prince. Around ten, I think.”

Ten? I turned sharply to the maid. This girl was ten? At best, she looked eight—same age as the little Hero boy, maybe even younger. Considering girls tend to be taller at that age, the difference was worrying.

I waved the maid off; she was useless now. She left the way she came.

I knelt in front of the crying girl, gently dabbing at her tear-streaked cheeks with a handkerchief. I dared not rub too roughly—her skin was flushed red already.

“Hey, how old are you?”

She flinched and looked at me before suddenly darting backward. She stopped a short distance away, hiding in the tall grass, trembling like a frightened squirrel curling its tail.

“I’m not scary, really. Oh—do you want this? It’s tasty.”

I crouched lower, trying to meet her gaze, and pulled out a piece of chocolate I’d saved for when my energy ran low.

After all, I had made her spit out her “meal.”

The girl didn’t take it, only stared with wide, curious eyes. At least she’d stopped crying. Her small nose twitched, catching the scent of sweetness.

“You don’t know what it is, huh?”

Chocolate was a luxury, especially for humans. I unwrapped a piece and popped it into my own mouth.

“Mmm, delicious. See? Try it.”

It felt like coaxing a wary cat to approach. Slowly, cautiously, she inched closer—hesitant but curious. I didn’t move, waiting patiently. Finally, she was close enough to reach.

With a quick motion, she snatched the chocolate from my hand. She struggled to open the wrapper, fumbling with tiny fingers. With a sigh, I leaned in carefully. She froze at my approach but didn’t flee this time. I peeled the wrapper for her and placed the chocolate in her mouth.

She stood rigidly, but as the chocolate melted, her eyes widened in wonder at the rich sweetness on her tongue. Seeing those bright, glimmering eyes made me smile.

“Good, isn’t it?”

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she nodded enthusiastically, licking her lips as though savoring every bit.

“What’s your name?”

Silence.

Could it be… she didn’t have one? Given how the maid had called her a “Trash Princess,” it was entirely possible. I began to worry I’d touched on something painful.

After a long silence, her lips finally parted. I waited, expecting to hear a name—but instead came a stream of words, faint and hoarse.

“Dirty… beggar… trash… unclean… princess… baby…”

It was the first time I’d heard her voice—soft, brittle, like dried leaves rustling. She probably hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in days.

But the words… those words made my face stiffen. Such ugly things for a child to say. Yet the last one—baby—felt different. Warm. Tender.

Perhaps that had been her mother’s voice—a maid’s affectionate nickname for her daughter. But a pet name is not a true name.

“Your name?”

She tilted her head slightly, as if she didn’t understand, and repeated the same words. I raised a hand quickly.

“No, no, not that… Ah. Never mind. You don’t have one, huh?”

The princess without a name.

“The real monsters are the ones who did this to you…”

I handed her another piece of chocolate. She nibbled happily, her small cheeks puffing slightly as she chewed. Watching her, I made my decision.

There was no way I could leave this child in the hands of such heartless humans.