Chapter 4 - Prince Red Riding Hood

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

As I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

When he came to, the first thing he felt was the warmth of his own breath.

 

There was no pain. That alone made him realize he was still alive.

 

His breathing was slightly strained, but even that discomfort was proof of life. If he'd felt nothing at all, he might have believed he was already in heaven.

 

The sack was still pulled over his head, and as clarity returned, so did the memory of what had happened.

 

A cord was tied around the burlap at his neck—not tight enough to strangle him, just enough to hold it in place.

 

If that was their only intent… then perhaps he wasn't about to be killed just yet.

 

The first thought that came to mind was abduction.

 

I've been kidnapped? But by who? Where am I? They said something about a hut…

 

As someone raised in the palace, protected like a rare flower, Lil instinctively believed that if someone had taken him, they couldn't be from Vallcent. Anyone from this country would know that red was a forbidden color.

 

No one would see him, cloaked head to toe in red, and think to sell him. Not if they were from Vallcent.

 

Of course, not everyone in the world was virtuous—someone greedy enough might dare rob a royal for profit. But in a small, tightly sealed country like this, they'd be caught in no time.

 

Escaping to the outside world—where evil wolves and the cursed wander—was unthinkable. Capture and execution would be inevitable.

 

It must've been someone from another land. Maybe someone managed to slip inside… Even if Vallcent has little contact with other countries, there are still traveling merchants and daring hunters who cross the mountains. And I… I was naïve. I thought I was safe. I thought that dressing like royalty would protect me. But I should've known better…

 

Restrained by the men, Lil could barely move, and soon began to weep in helpless sobs.

 

The sacred barrier, woven since ancient times, burned away only beasts possessed by wicked souls. It could not bar the entry of humans.

 

That duty fell to the soldiers. But the threat was so rare that security had grown lax.

 

Oh, what do I do…? If they demand ransom, or worse—if they threaten to invade—Grandmother will be devastated instead of pleased. Vallcent isn't a wealthy land… Our survival depends on rare mineral trades…

 

Tears wetting his face beneath the sack, Lil tried to think like a prince.

 

If he were to negotiate—if there were a way to return unharmed and spare his beloved grandmother the grief—he would have to choose his words with care.

 

"Ah…!"

 

Before he could even prepare for negotiation, he noticed something terribly wrong.

 

He was lying on something hard, like a wooden cot, and realized with a jolt that he was nearly naked.

 

His intricately laced boots—so troublesome to remove—were gone. Even his socks had been stripped off.

 

All of his clothing had been taken. All that remained was the long red cloak with its hood, the burlap sack over his head, and the rope that held it in place.

 

My blouse… my undergarments… everything… And… my legs…

 

The thought alone made him sick. His ankles and knees were held apart by the men's hands.

 

Exposed to the cool air was the most private part of him—something no one but his nursemaid or elder handmaid had ever seen.

 

And then he felt it—a sharp, stabbing gaze.

 

They were staring.

 

These unknown men were looking at him—there.

 

"No…! How dare you!"

 

More than fear, what surged through Lil was fury and shame. He tried to push the man closest to him away.

 

But the man's body was like a wall of stone—unmoving.

 

"Well, well… The prince sure is proud, ain't he?"

 

"Hey, tie the sack back tight. If he sees our faces, we'll have no choice but to kill him."

 

The young men's voices, and that one word—kill—sent a wave of cold through Lil's entire body.

 

A third man, seemingly of lower rank than the other two, reached for his neck.

 

As the man began to untie the cord to retie it, Lil thrashed his head, desperate to escape.

 

"Hey!"

 

"You idiot—what are you doing?!"

 

Amid the frantic shouting, the world around Lil burst into light.

 

The sack had slipped off, and sunlight from a mountain hut window poured over the scene.

 

Wooden walls and thick beams made of logs, a sturdy post at the center holding up the roof, a glass-paned window, a cold fireplace stacked high with wood, and barrels neatly lined up.

 

And the three men who held him down.

 

Lil recognized their faces. He had seen them many times before.

 

These men… They're the woodcutter brothers. Not from the northern woods, but from the west.

 

They looked to be in their twenties or thirties, with enough resemblance to mark them as kin.

 

It had been a while, but once they had regularly exchanged greetings: "Your Highness, be careful not to trip over the roots," or "That red cloak and hood suit you well," or "How is Her Majesty the Queen doing?" Always with friendly smiles.

 

There was no doubt—they were those very woodsmen.

 

"Damn it, he saw our faces! This idiot let his guard down!"

 

"S-sorry, big bro... Ah, what do we do now? He saw us!"

 

"Now we can't just strip him and have our way. Guess there's no helping it. Hey, put the red hood back over his head. I want to feel like I'm defiling royalty."

 

"Cover those creepy red eyes with the hood. If they glare at us, we might get cursed."

 

On the crude bed, Lil lay stunned, hearing the exchanges between the men he once knew.

 

He understood—this was a watch post beyond the northern forest's protective barrier. These men weren't invaders—they were subjects of his beloved Vallcent.

 

Though their clothes were shabbier now, and their once gentle appearances had become grim and dirtied, Lil couldn't imagine what had happened to them. But one thing was certain—they now bore ill will.

 

Worse than ill will—there was murderous intent.

 

"Ah... no... stop it, stop!"

 

The hood was yanked down over Lil's face, concealing it up to their eyes. His limbs were pinned to the cloak's lining, spread wide across the bed.

 

His legs were forced open so far it felt like they'd be torn apart, and pain flared at the base—one of the men had grabbed his genitals.

 

There were six hands—three men—some restraining, others touching with lewd intent. They roamed freely, violating Lil's body.

 

One moment caressing his flat chest, the next pinching what little there was of a nipple.

 

A sudden, sharp squeeze.

 

"Ah—! Nngh... st—stop, that hurts..."

 

"Hey, look at this. Not a single hair at sixteen."

 

"Isn't it fine? His skin's whiter than any woman's. Like silk. And look—these pale little nipples, I've never seen anything like it."

 

"Bet his back passage is pink too, huh?"

 

As Lil resisted, shaking his head, the men slipped their hands behind his knees.

 

Lil's hips were lifted high, toward the ceiling, away from the cloak and sheets.

 

In the infuriatingly bright hut, his tender backside was spread wide, exposing the hidden cleft within.

 

He felt the weight of all three men's gazes fixated on a point he himself had never dared to look at.

 

The emotional wound was heavy, the pain deep, and Lil no longer knew how much he could even resist.

 

He kept crying out "no" from his lips and putting strength into his limbs, but against the sturdy bodies of woodsmen, it meant nothing.

 

Why, why is this happening to me?

 

Even if this had been done by foreign enemies, it wouldn't have hurt this much.

 

Why was he being treated this way by his own people? Lil had no idea.

 

If there was any reason at all, it might be his strange eye color. Words like "those creepy red eyes" or "you'll get cursed if he glares at you"—muttered earlier—came back to ring loudly in his mind.

 

Still, it was hard to believe they would suddenly act like this over something so small. He also couldn't ignore how different their appearance was now compared to before, or how they had taken him into the northern forest, far from their workplace.

 

"N-No... please, forgive me..."

 

Not knowing the cause, only desperate to escape, Lil pleaded. And hated himself for doing so—as a prince, he found it shameful.

 

Yet he also understood well enough: right now, he was the powerless one.

 

He instinctively knew that screaming "Insolent fools!" and struggling would only worsen things.

 

"Forgive you? For what? You don't even know what you've done, do you? You just beg for mercy to save yourself."

 

"Don't make me laugh! Living off our taxes like some pampered beggar!"

 

"Ah... nn—stop..."

 

Fingers traced across his chest, his elbows, under his arms, around his navel, his genitals, and lower still... even to his anus.

 

It was humiliating, painful—but more than that, it tore at his heart.

 

Their cruel words—like nothing he'd ever heard—shattered him inside.

 

 

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