Chapter 8 - 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.

Klaus may be of a different station… but if he's not from this country, perhaps we could become true friends. The companions his grandmother had arranged for him—every one of them tried too hard to befriend him, their strained smiles unsettling. Though they claimed to want his favor, he knew they feared his eyes. All of them pretended, forcing smiles, trying to please him…

 

The words the woodcutter brothers had spoken about his eyes came back to him, and Lil began to doubt the sincerity of everyone around him.

 

Perhaps some among the castle staff had grown used to him and no longer thought anything of it—but most, he sensed, were merely pretending to be unaffected. And he couldn't blame them.

 

No matter how "noble" its hue might be, red was still an unnatural color for eyes.

 

It was only natural to fear it, to avert one's gaze. Someone like Klaus, who met it so directly and without flinching—that kind of person was rare indeed.

 

"You can call me Klaus," the hunter said simply. "But I'll still call you 'Prince.'"

 

"...Yes, thank you."

 

Only half his wish had been granted, and Lil couldn't hide his disappointment.

 

He knew it wasn't the time to be wishing for friendship with a foreigner—especially when he himself bore some of the blame for the suffering caused by the sacrificial lottery. And yet… his heart still sank.

 

"You look rather dissatisfied," Klaus remarked.

 

"No… not at all," Lil replied quickly.

 

"You shouldn't let just anyone call you by name, you know—not when you're that unbearably cute. If I were a bad man, you'd be in trouble."

 

Klaus's words made Lil's heart leap with a hard thump.

 

Unbearably cute—the phrase echoed in his mind.

 

He had heard countless compliments before—"Your Highness is so lovely," "You grow more beautiful by the day"—but they had never moved him. He knew that people praised those of noble birth as long as they weren't hideous; such words were expected, empty, polite.

 

But somehow… when Klaus said it, it felt different. Special. Real. That simple phrase "unbearably cute" kept ringing in his ears.

 

"You saved me. That makes you someone special," Lil said earnestly. "And besides… you're beautiful. Someone as beautiful as you could never do anything cruel."

 

"Beauty doesn't guarantee kindness," Klaus replied. "And are you truly saying I'm beautiful? Doesn't my skin, my hair, my eyes—don't they all seem strange to you?"

 

"Not at all," Lil answered immediately. "I thought you were beautiful the moment I first saw you."

 

He spoke the truth—but inwardly, Lil admitted that a part of him had been surprised.

 

Not by the unfamiliarity of Klaus's features—but by how beautiful they were. It wasn't a bad surprise. It was something else entirely.

 

It was something… he couldn't explain.

 

By the standards of Vallcent, Klaus's appearance was far from the ideal. And yet, Lil felt with unshakable certainty that he was beautiful. This conviction came not from others' influence or opinions—it was entirely his own. A belief untainted, and therefore, utterly real.

 

His own truth.

 

"Maybe it's because I have unusual eyes too," Lil murmured. "Your colors may be unfamiliar to me, but I find them captivating."

 

"Red eyes are certainly rare," Klaus replied. "Doesn't it bother you, being different from others?"

 

Still seated on the bed with his knees drawn up, Lil shifted beneath the red hood that helped conceal his gaze. He let his thoughts drift to his eyes—those blood-colored eyes.

 

And yet, when Klaus's blue eyes met his, Lil felt both thrilled and embarrassed.

 

But it wasn't the kind of embarrassment born from shame or self-loathing.

 

He wanted to meet Klaus's gaze. It was just… when he did, his face grew hotter, his pulse stronger. A new kind of heat unfurled in his chest, unlike anything he'd ever felt before—a blush born of nervousness and wonder.

 

"It's a little embarrassing to be stared at so intently," Lil admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't mind my eyes anymore. I know some people are frightened by them, but I'm at peace with them now. Someone once told me they loved my eyes."

 

"Someone… loved them?"

 

"Yes. My grandmother. When I used to shut myself in my room, she would gently encourage me to take pride in who I am. She told me my eyes were beautiful. She gave me so much love."

 

"Your grandmother… You mean the Queen of Vallcent?"

 

"Yes. Though I call her Grandmother, she's still young. A wise and thoughtful queen who always places the country first."

 

"What about your mother? I've heard rumors that she's ill and secluded in a tower in the east wing of the castle… that she's been stripped of her right to succession."

 

"…Yes. The rumors are true. She's bedridden, and I've never met her—not once since I was born. It's something I've always felt terribly lonely about… but my grandmother has loved me enough for two. When I couldn't accept my own eyes, she gave me this cloak with a deep red hood. When your entire body is draped in red, the color of your eyes doesn't stand out. That kindness… saved me."

 

"I see. You're fortunate to have such a kind family member."

 

"Um… would you consider coming to the castle?" Lil asked, suddenly nervous. "I want to introduce you to my grandmother—as the one who saved my life. I'd like to thank you properly."

 

Hearing that, Klaus raised an eyebrow.

 

Lil hadn't meant to offend, but Klaus's expression darkened, and he couldn't understand why.

 

He paused, trying to puzzle it out—but no answer came.

 

Even if Klaus was from another country, surely anyone would be pleased by such an invitation.

 

"Was that line about 'not telling anyone' just something you said to appease those brothers?" Klaus asked quietly. "Because if you're going to introduce me as your savior, someone will have to play the villain. Are you ready to explain how you ended up outside the barrier? Who attacked you, and where it happened?"

 

"Ah… I… that is…"

 

Lil's voice faltered.

 

Answering even one of those questions would unravel everything he'd said.

 

He had no intention of telling the Queen about the woodcutters, and revealing that he'd left the barrier was absolutely out of the question.

 

If he brought Klaus back and introduced him as his savior, he'd have to craft a seamless lie—one without cracks or contradictions.

 

And even if he could do that, there was every chance the Queen, or the bishop, or one of the ministers would ask a question he hadn't anticipated. Handling it smoothly, without drawing further suspicion, would be nearly impossible.

 

Lil didn't overestimate himself—he wasn't confident he could pull it off at all.

 

"I'm sorry… I didn't think it through."

 

"Besides," Klaus said, "technically speaking, the entire Vallcent Mountain Range, including the lands beyond the barrier, is still considered part of the Vallcent Kingdom. I haven't stepped inside the barrier, but I have no furs, antlers, or meat to trade. If I went claiming to be a traveling hunter, they'd likely assume I was some foreign spy. I'll stay in this hut and hunt for a while. In return, don't tell anyone you met me."

 

"Y-yes. I understand. I won't tell anyone. Please feel free to use this hut as you like. It's actually a watch post, so soldiers sometimes stop by. What should I do then?"

 

"I'll handle it. But right now, what you need to do isn't thanking me or anything else—it's going back to the castle and thinking hard about what you can do. And then acting on it. You promised those men you would, didn't you?"

 

"Yes… I know. I haven't forgotten. And I will do it. But before anything else, isn't it only right to express my gratitude to the one who saved me? Even more so because this wasn't some foreign matter, but an issue between myself and my own people—and you, a stranger, had to be involved. I can't ignore that."

 

"…Fair enough. That's a sound argument."

 

Klaus's expression softened, and the tension in his face faded.

 

Seeing that, Lil felt his shoulders relax, too—when had they tensed so much?

 

He was a prince. Of course he had to think of his people. But he believed it was just as important to show his sincere gratitude.

 

What could he do—within his means—that would please Klaus? Something that wouldn't offend him or cause unnecessary trouble… As he mulled this over, wrapped in his red-hooded cloak, Lil's gaze fell upon the basket near the hut's entrance.

 

The inside of the hut had been left in disarray after the woodcutters had barged in—but the basket had remained intact.

 

"Um… this is a small token, really, but… do you like butter?"

 

"Butter? I'd say… I'm quite fond of it."

 

"Oh, that's a relief!" Lil brightened. "There's not much I can do right now, but please accept this. It's a jar of pure white butter made from the finest milk—it's so rich and smooth, you might find yourself wanting to eat it on its own!"

 

 

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