The Princess Smells So Good (GL) - Chapter 8

Wei Zhao opened her eyes. It was dusk, and the clouds across the sky were glowing in a gorgeous array of colors, while the other end of the sky had already turned dim and dark.

Night was falling.

The scent at the tip of Wei Zhao’s nose was warm — the freshness of grass and trees mixed with a faint trace of sweat, not strong, easily overtaken by the natural fragrance of a woman in close proximity.

She lifted her head. Light and shadow danced between leaves and branches, swaying before her eyes like a beautiful dream she didn’t want to wake from. But Wei Zhao quickly remembered — they were both up in a tree, and she was in the arms of her slave.

To avoid the pursuing soldiers, they couldn’t light a fire while traveling at night. Sleeping out in the open like this wasn’t ideal either, especially with wild animals around. So, at the slave’s suggestion, they had climbed up a tree to rest. And for their first full day of rest, they had stayed in this position the entire time.

Wei Zhao had no idea how the slave managed to hold her so tightly while still sleeping so soundly.

“Mm…” the slave let out a low murmur. “Little wildcat…”

What? Wildcat? Wei Zhao frowned. Was it because they were both up in a tree? Did she dream of a cat?

What kind of wildcat was in her dream?

Wei Zhao stared at the sharp point of the slave’s chin, then watched in surprise as it slowly leaned toward her.

She didn’t dare move, afraid that even a slight shift would send her tumbling from the tree. Instinctively, she buried her face deeper into the slave’s arms.

Then she felt the slave’s chin rest against the top of her head, rubbing gently, like a sleeping person unconsciously cuddling up to someone they liked.

“…So cute…” the slave murmured, as if answering Wei Zhao’s unspoken question — then let out a low, amused chuckle.

How bold. How outrageous! That kind of behavior could get someone dragged off and executed!

But then she thought of how they had traveled for nearly a day and night straight, and she’d spent most of it on the slave’s back. At the end, it was the slave who tied a rope and hauled her up the tree. At that moment, the slave’s sweat had trickled from her brow, down her sharp chin, and dripped onto Wei Zhao’s face.

It was warm, with a hint of salt.

Normally, Wei Zhao was fastidious about cleanliness — but this time, she didn’t say anything.

She let out a soft sigh and nestled deeper into the slave’s chest. After a moment’s thought, she mimicked the slave and rubbed her cheek gently against her. It felt nice — soft yet firm, like sinking into a cushion of cotton. Very comfortable.

Forget it. It’s not like she was losing anything.

The slave woke just as day turned to night. As soon as her eyes opened, she instinctively tightened her arms. It wasn’t until she heard a muffled groan from the person in her embrace that she relaxed her grip and looked down to find the frowning princess trying to pry her hand away.

“You’re finally awake.”

Wei Zhao lifted her chin, full of haughty pride. But nestled as she was in the slave’s arms, she looked more like a feisty little kitten — tiny and fierce.

The slave’s mouth twitched up slightly, then dropped back into a neutral line. Her gaze shifted to Wei Zhao’s hand. “What are you doing? What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…?” Wei Zhao followed her line of sight and looked down.

She saw one of her hands resting on top of the slave’s, while the other was placed squarely on the slave’s chest — calm and casual, as if it belonged there.

How did things end up like this?

Wei Zhao tried to recall, but couldn’t remember anything. Only that the slave’s chest was soft, comforting, with a faint scent… Overall, a very pleasant feeling. So she’d subconsciously given it a squeeze.

When she looked up again, the slave’s face was taut, her lips tight. Those striking green eyes were locked on her, dark and unreadable — like a snake watching its prey, tail twitching.

But Wei Zhao wasn’t scared of her.

She grinned, releasing the frustration and irritation that had built up these past few days from being constantly contradicted by the slave. Her smile was fierce and teasing: “What? It’s an honor to be touched by your master.”

She curled her lips further, like a naughty kid from a village street, and deliberately added pressure in her grip. “Don’t forget our roles. Just because you’ve done me a few favors doesn’t mean you’re my equal. Even if I asked you to warm my bed, you’d have to crawl into it obediently.”

The slave lowered her gaze and sighed. “Alright. But out here under the sky and on a tree branch — does the master really want to do something like that?”

Wei Zhao raised an eyebrow, amusement lighting her eyes. The last rays of the sun filtered through the leaves and shimmered in her gaze. Her face was still smudged with dust, not fully cleaned, but she looked like a crystal figurine — delicate and pure.

The slave raised her hand. Her palm was broader than most Da Zhou women’s, and as it settled on Wei Zhao’s waist, it felt like hot iron pressing down. Wei Zhao tensed slightly, and before her cheerful smile could fade, she found herself flipped over and pinned beneath.

The thick tree branch beneath her back wasn’t the most comfortable thing. What was worse — she had just been lying on a warm, soft human pillow, and now that comforting support was gone.

The contrast was deeply unpleasant.

Wei Zhao lifted her chin in indignation. “What do you think you’re doing!”

“You’re the master,” the slave said, staring into her eyes. “How can I let the master do all the work? If it’s bed-warming you want, all you need to do is enjoy it.”

As she spoke, the hand at Wei Zhao’s waist seemed to stir.

Wei Zhao’s face turned pale. She shouted, “Stop! Are you trying to make me fall off the tree?!”

The slave stopped her movement, frowning slightly, as if troubled. Just as Wei Zhao’s face began to ease and she was preparing to speak more gently, the slave suddenly smiled. Her tongue peeked out, licking her lips slowly. Wei Zhao stared, stunned, as the plump lips parted slightly, tongue tip flicking over them. Those green eyes narrowed a little, carrying a subtle, unspoken heat.

“No worries. I still have my tongue.”

How could anyone be so shameless?!

Wei Zhao hugged her knees and turned her head away the moment the slave approached. “I’ve never seen someone so utterly shameless in my life!!!”

The slave paused mid-step. Ever since they’d gotten down from the tree, Wei Zhao had been acting like this. She thought for a moment, then replied with a straight face, “But Master said… I’m not a person. I’m a tool.”

Oh. Right. She wasn’t a person. How could a tool be this shameless?!

Wei Zhao looked down, feeling a little wronged. But soon she lifted her chin again. “Tool. Where’s my food?”

The slave’s eyes curved in amusement. She pulled out some rations from her belt. Wei Zhao recognized it — it had come from the scout who had died earlier. She hadn’t seen the body, but the thought still made her a little nauseous.

She glanced over. The slave was sitting beside her, quietly eating. She ate quickly, urgently, but her posture remained composed, lashes low and long. The sun had nearly set, and though the light was fading, in Wei Zhao’s eyes, the slave looked like a statue — calm and focused.

Wei Zhao noticed she didn’t drop a single crumb. Even at that speed, she still carried herself with grace.

At that moment, Wei Zhao suddenly remembered something: because of a casual comment from her mother the Empress, she’d always had to keep her “playmate” by her side. From school to martial training, and even etiquette lessons — the slave had been there.

Unknowingly, the slave had learned quite a bit along the way.

“This is water,” the slave said, offering a water pouch. “I wiped it clean. Don’t worry.”

Wei Zhao paused for a second before drinking to help swallow the dry food.

The slave climbed the tree to scout ahead, comparing directions with a compass. Then she jumped down lightly like a monkey and squatted in front of Wei Zhao, gesturing for her to climb on.

“…I’ll walk with you for a while.”

Wei Zhao hesitated before speaking.

She hadn’t walked much the day before, but her thighs and calves were already sore. She should’ve just climbed onto the slave’s back like she did the first day.

The slave looked back at her. “You sure?”

“I can’t rely on you forever,” Wei Zhao said. Her voice always carried pride, whether real or not.

The slave nodded. “Alright, let’s go for a bit then.” She reached out and took Wei Zhao’s arm.

Wei Zhao stiffened for a moment before relaxing. She let the slave pull her along, doing her best to keep up. She didn’t want to slow her down. With enemies behind them, every extra step they could take meant a step closer to safety.

Gradually, the slave’s pace slowed.

And gradually, Wei Zhao found herself able to keep up on her own.

“I’ll get faster,” she said between breaths.

In the darkness, under the soft glow of moonlight and fireflies, through the howls of wolves echoing across the forest, the slave’s voice was steady and sure:

“Of course. I believe in you. You always get things done.”