The 17th Princess Just Wants to Live - Ch. 28

I was confused.

“What do you mean?”

Theodora slowly began to unravel Tristan’s story.

Tristan entered the duke’s household when he was about seven. By then, his mother had already passed away.

Before Tristan came to the duke’s household, his mother and any trace of his whereabouts had been completely erased, to the point that even Theodora couldn’t find anything.

Tristan started off doing menial tasks like any other servant, and by the time he was around ten, he began working in the stables.

It was too hard a job for a child. So, it seemed that some of the servants in the duke’s household helped Tristan from time to time.

“But then strange things started happening to those people.”

“What do you mean by strange things?”

“Unfortunate things. Sudden accidents, their children falling ill, fires breaking out in their homes…”

I felt a chill run down my spine.

No one could prevent misfortunes that happened by chance. But if such things happened repeatedly, who would still call it a coincidence?

I sensed a dark, gloomy shadow hidden in Theodora’s words.

“No way, the duke…”

Theodora nodded heavily.

“There are people like that. People who believe that in order to control someone, they must take everything from them. To completely dominate a person, they trample on everything that brings that person happiness. Once they meticulously, relentlessly ruin everything around them, that person is bound to break.”

Anger simmered in Theodora’s green eyes. Seeing that look, I could tell this wasn’t just a story about Duke Aschenbach.

“I don’t know if that boy understands what the duke is doing or if he just believes he’s cursed. But if, in a life full of misfortune, the few kind people around him keep getting hurt, what would you do, Lucy?”

“I’d push them away.”

I answered without thinking, and I was startled by my own words.

“To make sure they don’t suffer because of me… even if I had to force myself…”

It felt like something was stuck in my throat, making it hard to speak. I tried to continue but ended up closing my mouth.

The tip of my nose stung. I felt like I was about to cry again.

When did it start? When did I come to the conclusion that it was better to be consumed by loneliness than to hurt others?

Tristan was only fifteen this year, but how many wounds, how many pains did it take for him to become so desolate?

From the day I first went to see him, all he wanted to do was push me away.

I clenched my fist so tightly that my nails dug into my palm. The sadness was overwhelming, but soon, a much stronger anger surged over me.

“Why on earth is Duke Aschenbach doing this?”

I glared at Theodora as I spoke. She wasn’t the one who deserved my anger, but I couldn’t help it as my face twisted with rage.

“He’s the child he brought into this world. He even brought him to the duke’s household. If he didn’t like him, he could have abandoned him on the street or quietly killed him when he was little, so why?”

I didn’t mean that it would’ve been better if Tristan had died. I just couldn’t understand the duke’s behavior.

Even if he was an illegitimate child, he was still the duke’s blood, and before that, he was a child who deserved protection. Why would the duke go out of his way to isolate him, making him do dirty work and harming the people around him?

What was the duke trying to accomplish by doing this to Tristan?

“I’m not sure either.”

Theodora frowned as she spoke.

“But one thing is certain… that child is useful to the duke in some way.”

“Useful?”

“I don’t know for what, but he must be. Otherwise, there’s no reason for the duke to involve himself so deeply in the life of an illegitimate child. Bringing him in, isolating him so thoroughly—it’s all been done with a purpose.”

What could anyone possibly gain from tormenting a child? I couldn’t even begin to guess.

As I sat there, lost in thought with a serious expression, Theodora gently patted my shoulder.

“Lucy? I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but I think you did the right thing.”

When I looked at Theodora, she smiled at me like a kind older sister.

“Telling him the truth. That you want him to be happy.”

“But that’s the reason Tristan doesn’t want to see me.”

I sniffled as I answered, and Theodora held my hand. Her hand was calloused, but it was warm.

“Of course. But this is actually an opportunity.”

She gave me a mischievous smile.

“Let’s show him. Show him that Lucy is someone who can break through any misfortune.”

It was a moonless new moon night. Tristan lay in a corner of the stables, struggling to fall asleep.

It seemed that horses, too, couldn’t sleep, as the occasional sound of hooves striking the ground echoed, along with the shuffling of feet.

It had been nearly a week since he last took them outside, so it was no wonder they were restless. Besides, by now, the other servants would have found it strange as well. He had always risen at the same time and carried out the same routine.

No matter what, he would have to take the horses out tomorrow.

As Tristan thought this, his face remained expressionless. But unlike his calm, lake-like demeanor, his body tossed and turned several times, trying to find a comfortable position.

No matter what posture he tried, he couldn’t find any comfort. It wasn’t just because he was lying on a bed of straw on the stable’s dirt floor.

His mind was troubled. Thinking about going out tomorrow—and thinking about how she wouldn’t be there…

Suddenly, Tristan realized why he hadn’t stepped out of the mansion for nearly a week, ready to be punished for neglecting the horses.

Until then, he thought he had been avoiding her. But what he was truly avoiding wasn’t her—it was her absence.

He didn’t want to go out to the meadows and face the scene of her not being there, amidst the blue sky and fresh flowers.

In the end, unable to fall asleep, Tristan sat up. One of the horses, noticing his movement, gazed at him with concern.

“I’m fine.”

He said, his voice harsh and dry.

The horse shook its head at him, as if unsatisfied with his answer.

As Tristan stared into the horse’s black eyes, he suddenly recalled a cat from his childhood.

It was not long after he had arrived at the ducal mansion. Living in a strange place, with no one treating him kindly, Tristan had withdrawn into himself.

The cat was a stray that sometimes wandered into the duchy’s backyard. It had black fur and golden eyes. While wary of others, it was unusually affectionate toward Tristan.

When Tristan reached out his hand, the cat would approach him without hesitation and rub its face against him. It gave Tristan a warm feeling, as if he were standing by the hearth.

Their friendship didn’t last long. One day, Ludwig happened to see Tristan with the cat, and he beheaded it right in front of him.

“Don’t smile. It’s unpleasant.”

Ludwig said this and left. Tristan sat stunned in front of the bloody cat’s body for a long time.

Such things kept happening.

The cook who brought him warm soup when he was ill died of the plague. The young man who brought milk and cheese to the ducal mansion and tossed butter candies to Tristan disappeared without a trace. The new gardener, who laughed heartily, saying Tristan reminded him of his son, left just days after being hired, to attend his son’s funeral.

Whenever something in Tristan’s heart began to warm, someone would stomp out the flame.

Gradually, Tristan stopped smiling. He always felt that if he did, Ludwig would appear and strike him down.

Even in his dreams, Tristan was not free. Whether he was petting the beloved cat or being held in the arms of a mother whose face he couldn’t remember, when he regained his senses, Ludwig was always there.

Whenever Tristan awoke from a nightmare, he would tremble and feel his face, fearing that some trace of a smile might have lingered.

As he grew older, Tristan distanced himself from others. Most of the servants in the duke’s household already treated him like a ghost. Tristan, unable to accept anyone’s kindness, grew accustomed to the treatment.

At some point, Tristan even forgot how to smile.

Then one day, Lucilia suddenly appeared in his life, like a meteor flashing across the night sky without warning.

The moment Lucilia greeted him on the meadow, Tristan immediately remembered who she was. There had been no time to see her face when they first met on the night of the birthday celebration, but he had clearly remembered that voice.

A clear, beautiful, distinct, and resolute voice, one that shook his soul as if he had known it forever.

He remembered her. But he pushed her away.

It made no difference that she was a princess. Rejecting others and killing off expectations had become second nature to Tristan, as natural as breathing.

Tristan held no expectations of Lucilia. He only wished for her to disappear quickly, so that his painful peace could return.

Yet Lucilia never gave up.

It was strange that a princess didn’t get angry at his rude behavior. In fact, she seemed to like it. By the second day, Tristan had stopped speaking to her, but she kept coming, chirping like a little bird before flitting away.

Once, when she popped a day-old sandwich into her mouth, Tristan, surprised, found himself staring at her.

Weren’t imperials supposed to drink from golden cups or something? To Tristan, who knew nothing of royal life, Lucilia seemed almost like an imposter.

What on earth was she doing? Was she really a princess? Why did she keep coming to him? What did she want from him?

Before he knew it, Tristan found himself thinking about Lucilia even when she wasn’t around.

One day, driven by hunger, he ate a single piece of bread from the basket she left behind. That was all it took, and the next day, Lucilia was overjoyed, practically bouncing with excitement. She even squealed that she would start bringing her own lunch from now on.

In that moment, a scene flashed in Tristan’s mind.

Under a spring sky befitting the capital, amidst the lush, swaying grass of the meadow, two people were having a picnic together. In that picturesque scene, the man and woman were laughing so happily.

That image made Tristan unsettled.

Don’t smile. It’s unpleasant.

It felt as though Ludwig’s voice could ring out at any moment.

Tristan immediately reverted to his usual behavior. He turned his back on Lucilia and fled.

Yet, his heart didn’t feel any lighter. He worried if Lucilia would be upset, or worse—if she would never return.

Though he had once wished for her not to come, he now found himself worrying about it.

The next day, when he went to the meadow, there she was, standing as if nothing had happened, smiling as brightly as the sun.

Only then did Tristan finally admit it. Something had changed. He was no longer the same.

And at this rate, he knew he wouldn’t be able to push Lucilia away.

No matter how much he tried to keep his distance, she would continue to ignore it and approach him anyway.