Extra S*ave Saves the Crown Prince Chapter 15

-So you’re that woman!

 

A sharp voice rang out from somewhere. With a heavy head, I looked around and saw a black figure rising from the ground. Two red orbs glowed eerily like eyes.

 

-You’re ruining my novel!

 

That figure, shouting so loudly it felt like my head would split, grew bigger and bigger. Was this the author of the Original Story?!

 

-Leave the original as it is!

 

No, go away! That figure chased right behind me. I had no choice if I wanted to survive! It’s not like I came here because I wanted to! I tried to move my legs as hard as I could, but I was endlessly slow. Those red eyes approached as fast as the wind.

 

-Aaaaahhhhhh

 

In the end, with a strange shriek, it grabbed my leg.

 

Go away!!! Aaagh!!

 

I tried kicking with my legs and hitting the figure with my arms, but since I had no body, everything just passed through thin air.

 

Crunch!

 

In the end, that black figure grabbed my arm and bit down hard. I screamed in pain.

 

“Ah.”

 

Suddenly, I came to my senses. It was a ridiculous dream. Why was that nonsensical figure so terrifying in the dream? Even now, some fear lingered, making my body feel stiff.

 

And then, I turned my head without thinking—and froze even more.

 

Under the reddish sunset, he was there.

 

He was sitting with his chair turned completely toward me. Arms folded, he had apparently been watching me for some time, but his posture was not awkward at all. Bathed in red light, sitting there like that, he looked like a statue someone had spent a lifetime carving. But why was he sitting like that, facing me…?

 

“Are you in pain.”

 

His voice was calm and subdued.

 

“Ah, no.”

 

“I heard you groaning.”

 

“Oh, I just had a dream…”

 

So I was making noises in my sleep. I cautiously raised my upper body. Feeling embarrassed, I pulled the blanket up a bit higher.

 

“What kind of dream?”

 

“Just… a scary one.”

 

“What kind of scary dream?”

 

“Well, now that I’m awake, I can’t really remember…”

 

In truth, I remembered, but I couldn’t say the author of the Original Story was chasing me.

 

“That’s a shame.”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“I wanted to know what you find scary.”

 

“Something scary?”

 

“You seem like someone who isn’t afraid of anything in this world.”

 

“Me?”

 

He didn’t answer, but his eyes said yes.

 

Listening to his low voice in this quiet evening, I felt at peace just from that alone. I must be the only slave who feels comfortable occupying the Crown Prince’s bed.

 

In that sense, I could somewhat understand why I might seem like someone who isn’t afraid of anything.

 

“Um… If I saw a ghost. Wouldn’t that be scary? Maybe?”

 

“A ghost.”

 

I saw the corners of his mouth loosen a little. Was he dumbfounded?

 

“Sez.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He called me but then stayed silent for a long time without speaking. Since he was just looking at me, I waited nervously, wondering what he was going to ask.

 

“You’re right here, so close.”

 

He was sitting close enough to touch if he just reached out his arm. He slowly unfolded his arms, stretched out his hand toward my forehead, and brushed past as if stroking my eyebrow with the back of his hand. He didn’t quite touch me.

 

“Isn’t that scary?”

 

His face was fierce, but it was different from being scary. When I saw him, I always felt pity and sorrow before fear.

 

“No.”

 

“I am.”

 

He looked down at his own fingers, which had just brushed past me.

 

“I see.”

 

He muttered quietly, as if speaking to himself.

 

What did that mean? If I flip it around, does that mean he’s scared? That he’s scared of me? What does that mean? Is he saying he’s afraid of me?

 

“Me?”

 

He nodded slowly. The sunset glowed red on his black hair. Just that simple nod made my heart pound madly for a moment.

 

“Are you saying you’re afraid of me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

A slave who scares the Crown Prince.

 

I’d never threatened or intimidated him. Maybe he misunderstood the meaning of “scary.”

 

Shouldn’t the Crown Prince be the one person in the world who fears nothing? With all that power. And yet he says he’s afraid of a mere slave.

 

“Why are you afraid of me?”

 

Instead of answering, he reached out again and touched the ends of my hair. He didn’t quite grasp it, just brushed his thumb over it.

 

No way. Is he saying he couldn’t even touch me because he was scared? That I’m so scary he can’t even touch me?

 

Suddenly, I felt wronged. I’d never done anything to scare him.

 

If anything, he’s the one who could kill me with a single finger.

 

Even sitting down, he looked tall. His broad shoulders made any clothes look good on him. Even now, wearing a comfortable shirt, it looked as splendid as formal wear.

 

To someone who finds everything about him appealing, to be told I’m scary… If I’d actually done something frightening, I wouldn’t feel so wronged. Something inside me welled up.

 

Growl—.

 

Time seemed to stop.

 

My mind was troubled, but my instincts weren’t.

 

Should I just jump out the window?

 

In the quiet, it sounded even louder. I hoped only I had heard it, but no.

 

He stood up from his chair and pulled the cord next to the bed.

 

I could have endured my hunger, but for such a loud sound to come out now… I pressed my forehead in self-reproach.

 

Knock knock, the door opened and I sensed the presence of a maid. It was Mary’s voice.

 

“I’ll have dinner here.”

 

“Um, then the meal…”

 

Mary stood at the door, glancing at me.

 

“She’ll eat with me.”

 

“Ah, yes! Understood.”

 

Mary must be flustered, but I was even more so. You’re going to dine with a slave?

 

Even the supervisor on Salt Island insisted slaves eat out of sight, in a pitch-dark dining room. Since possessing this body, the only people I’d ever eaten with were other slaves.

 

Above all, sharing a table with someone of a higher class was unthinkable. It was like heaven and earth eating at the same table.

 

“You want to eat with me?”

 

“Is that unpleasant.”

 

“No! It’s just that I…”

 

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll leave.”

 

“Oh, no! It’s not that I’m uncomfortable. I’ll just leave, then. Why would Your Highness—”

 

“So you are uncomfortable. I’ll leave, then.”

 

“No! Thank you! It’s—an honor!”

 

He was about to turn around and leave, so I blurted out that it was an honor. Kicking the Crown Prince out of his own room because I was uncomfortable would be even more awkward. It’s really hard, living as a slave in the palace. What on earth does he find so scary about someone as insignificant as me?

 

Mary seemed to be a competent maid who quickly understood her master’s intentions. Before long, food began to arrive. The small table was soon covered with dishes.

 

I’d worked in a restaurant to get to the capital. On Salt Island, I’d only eaten the simplest food, so the restaurant was a real culture shock. But compared to the dishes before me now, that was just commoner fare. Each plate looked like a work of art.

 

Clink.

 

In contrast, a single bowl was placed in front of me. Steam rose from it. The fact that there was only a spoon, no cutlery, was suspicious.

 

Among the works of art, that soup stood out with a strong presence.

 

“What’s this.”

 

“Ah, yes, Your Highness. It’s a vegetable soup. I was told to prepare patient food for a while.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

The Crown Prince’s eye twitched slightly. He must have wanted to give me some of the good food, but he looked displeased.

 

“It looks delicious. Thank you for the meal.”

 

He had given me a rare chance to eat with him, so I pretended it looked delicious, in case he felt bad. I couldn’t eat until he started, after all. Finally, he let out a small sigh and began to eat. I hypnotized myself into thinking I was eating a feast and spooned up the soup. Fortunately or not, there was a lot of it.

 

“If you need anything, call.”

 

I saw Mary’s shoulders stiffen in surprise. I wanted to exchange a glance with her, but she bowed deeply and withdrew.

 

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

 

Right. The steak, which seemed to be the main dish, was fine. It looked delicious, but I could resist. Slaves eat meat too, though usually the kind that’s soaked in water. So that was fine. I could endure it.

 

But there was one thing that tempted me openly. Not the main dish, but the yellow corn kernels placed at the edge. They were clearly sautéed in butter. The rich aroma filled my nose. I’d always loved corn, so that temptation was especially strong. Butter and corn—truly, the palace chef was a master.

 

As I gazed at the sparkling corn, a spoon scooped some up. The corn glistened atop a silver spoon.

 

The pile of corn was graciously offered to me. Before I knew it, the Crown Prince himself was holding out the spoon to me. I must have looked so desperate to eat that he served me himself.

 

“A little should be fine.”

 

He said I should stick to soup for now, but of course, eating this much corn wouldn’t be a problem. That must have been what he meant.

 

Temptation right in front of my nose was hard to resist. Eating only bland soup, the buttery aroma made my mind hazy. But I knew how rude this scene was, so I couldn’t easily accept.

 

Should I take the spoon from him?

 

But that seemed even ruder. For a slave to take a spoon from the Crown Prince—how presumptuous would that be?

 

But a slave has no right to refuse what their betters bestow. Whatever it is, you must accept. In the end, my rational mind concluded as much.

 

I leaned forward and took the corn into my mouth.

 

“Mmm.”

 

A sound escaped me. It was heavenly. The savory flavor spread from the tip of my tongue throughout my body. It felt like every cell was shouting that it was delicious. Each kernel burst as I chewed, releasing even warmer, richer flavor. It was truly the best thing I’d eaten since coming to this world.

 

After savoring the last kernel, it was as if time rewound—the spoon was in front of me again. He had scooped up more corn and was offering it. The first time is hard, but the second is easy. I bowed my head slightly to express my gratitude. I had to be polite.

 

“Wow.”

 

I thought the second bite would taste the same, but it didn’t. It was delicious all over again. I was truly grateful for my injured arm. To be able to eat something this tasty—what a blessing. I praised myself again and again.

 

As I kept accepting the corn, the plate was soon empty.

 

“When you’re well, you can eat as much as you want.”

 

I must have looked longingly at the empty plate.

 

“Ah! Thank you.”

 

From what I could tell, the Crown Prince was a man who kept his word. At least once, I’d get another chance to eat it. I sincerely thanked him. If he told me to bow and touch my forehead to the ground, I’d do it with all my heart.