The Regressed Tyrant Princess Rewrites Her Dark History - Chapter 1.16

Klaus awoke to find himself lying in an unfamiliar room, resting on a bed.

As he sat up, his gaze fell upon a young girl asleep at the bedside, her delicate form leaning against the mattress. Strands of silvery-blue hair spilled over the sheets, shimmering under the morning sunlight streaming through the window.

She was breathtakingly beautiful—Klaus let out a quiet breath in admiration.

(She should be fifteen this year, if I recall correctly…)

Had she not arrived in time, the outcome would have been disastrous. There was no doubt—she had saved him from certain doom. Klaus pondered what he could do to repay her kindness.

(A forgotten princess, mocked for her weak standing. But if I were to protect her…)

Reaching out, he gently extended his fingers toward Ariadne’s hair.

“Do you intend to lay a hand on a defenseless lady?”

Just before his fingertips brushed against her, a calm voice cut through the silence, stopping him in his tracks.

Turning his gaze, Klaus found Arnolt reclining on a nearby sofa, watching him with a measured look.

“Your Highness, are you unharmed?”

“I am. Thanks to you all, I made it out safely. I promise to repay this debt.”

“Your words are too generous. And… what of the others? Were they unharmed?”

Klaus had taken great risks to ensure Arnolt’s escape. It wouldn’t have been surprising if there had been casualties. Bracing himself, he asked the question.

“Do not worry. No one suffered fatal injuries. The most gravely wounded was your father, but thanks to Princess Ariadne’s healing magic, he will recover without lasting damage.”

Hearing this, Klaus turned in astonishment toward Ariadne’s sleeping face.

Healing magic was among the more difficult branches of magic to master. To wield it at a practical level was impressive enough—but for her to also possess offensive magic capable of felling enemies in a single blow was unheard of.

And she was only fifteen.

“Just… who is she?”

“She is our benefactor,” Arnolt stated without hesitation. “She saved not only me but also my mother.”

It was impossible that Arnolt hadn’t noticed how extraordinary she was. Yet he still chose to call her their benefactor—making it clear that he had already decided how to regard her.

(He’s right. She saved both me and my father.)

As a knight, Klaus had long accepted the duty of offering his life in service to his lord. The same held true for Henrik, the captain of the knights. But even so, the fear of death had never truly left him.

Now, alive and with his father safe, Klaus felt immense relief.

Yet, as the tension in his body unwound, another thought surfaced.

“…By the way, Your Highness, why are you here?”

“…Ah. She insisted on staying with you until you woke.”

Though he didn’t name her outright, Arnolt’s gaze drifted toward the sleeping girl, her breathing soft and steady.

(Ah, I see. So His Highness… cares for her.)

The first time Klaus had seen her was at a banquet a few nights prior.

Surrounded by curious stares at a gathering hosted by a rival faction, she had remained composed, smiling gracefully despite the scrutiny. At just fifteen, she was both stunningly beautiful and intimidatingly fearless.

At the hunting tournament, she had appeared in trousers, exuding confidence. In a moment of crisis, she had emerged as a savior, her presence unwavering. When she turned to face them after ensuring their safety, her expression had been filled with warmth.

And now, here she was—fast asleep, her small figure curled up by the bed, looking like nothing more than an innocent girl.

She had many faces. But in sleep, she was at her most defenseless. That much was undeniable.

(…She understands that mere innocence won’t allow her to survive in the aristocratic world.)

There was something admirable about the way she carried herself.

Yet, Klaus had once viewed her as an enemy—had sought to distance himself from her. No matter how he conducted himself now, that truth remained unchanged.

(If only I had realized sooner—no, that would be an excuse. If I have made a mistake, I must correct it, no matter how difficult it may be.)

“So, Ariadne stayed by my side all night, worried about me?”

His words were a blatant challenge.

Arnolt frowned, immediately catching on to his intentions.

“…Don’t misunderstand. She only did so because you were injured.”

“But my father was far more gravely wounded than I was, wasn’t he? That being the case, perhaps Your Highness should return to your chambers?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think I would leave a young lady alone with a man who might have ulterior motives?”

“How insulting. If you’re that concerned, why not summon a maid to keep watch?”

The tension between them was palpable.

Though their relationship was relatively amicable due to their similar ages, this was the first time they had clashed so directly.

“…Klaus, are you saying you refuse to yield to your lord?”

“And what of you, Your Highness? Would you refuse to yield to the very person who saved your life? Oh, but you did say you would repay your debt, didn’t you?”

“Don’t be absurd. That’s an entirely different matter.”

As their glares locked, a small movement broke the standoff.

Ariadne’s brows twitched.

When she had first seen Klaus covered in wounds, Ariadne had been deeply shaken. She had anticipated Henrik’s death but had never considered that Klaus might be hurt as well.

Before her regression, the records she had read had only mentioned Henrik perishing in the attack—there were no other deaths, no fallen knights.

But that didn’t mean they had emerged unscathed.

The moment she had seen Klaus in such a state, panic had overtaken her. She had insisted on staying with him, had selfishly refused to leave his side until he regained consciousness. It was also why she had used her healing magic on the knights, despite keeping that ability hidden until now.

Once she had confirmed that Klaus’s condition was stable, that his sleeping face looked peaceful, her own exhaustion had finally caught up to her.

And so, she had fallen asleep.

Now, awakened by the sound of voices, she slowly opened her eyes.

As she sat up, her gaze met Klaus’s.

“Klaus, are you alright? Does anything still hurt?”

Ariadne quickly sat up and leaned toward Klaus, patting his body with her hands.

“Klaus, are you sure you’re alright? You’re not hiding any injuries, are you?”

“I’m fine, Princess Ariadne, really. So, um…”

Klaus averted his gaze, but seeing his reaction only made Ariadne more suspicious. Just as she continued checking for any hidden wounds, someone firmly grasped her wrist from behind.

“Princess Ariadne, he’s an injured man,” Arnold reminded her in a composed tone.

“Oh, Prince Arnold, you’re still here?”

“…Is that a problem?”

“Huh? No, of course not, but…”

(Why does he look like an abandoned puppy?)

“…Um, Prince Arnold, are you and Klaus close? You seemed rather familiar with each other earlier.”

The moment she asked, Arnold visibly stiffened.

“Could it be… you overheard our conversation?”

“Huh? No, not the details—”

“I see…”

Arnold and Klaus exhaled in unison.

“Princess Ariadne, Prince Arnold was simply concerned about you being alone in a room with me. After all, you are a young lady.”

“Klaus, you don’t need to explain unnecessary things,” Arnold interjected with a sigh.

So it was true. If that was the case, wouldn’t it have been easier to just leave a servant in the room? Ariadne wondered.

“More importantly, Princess Ariadne, wouldn’t it be best for you to return soon?”

“…Return?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“You spent the night in my villa, after all.”

“…Ah, that’s right. I need to send word immediately…”

A young noblewoman had spent the night at a gentleman’s residence. Though there was nothing improper about it, only the people involved knew that. If left unaddressed, rumors could spiral out of control.

As Ariadne’s face paled at the realization, Arnold let out a tired sigh.

“There’s no need to worry. I already sent word last night.”

“…I see. I’m terribly sorry for the trouble.”

“Not at all. You’ve saved me from danger twice now. Think nothing of it. Also, I’ve already arranged for a carriage to take you back to the imperial palace.”

Arnold extended his hand toward her.

“…Your Highness, are you escorting me yourself?”

“I understand that you wish to remain neutral. However, the fact that you saved my mother is well known, and word of this incident will spread soon enough.”

(True, I suppose there’s no use trying to hide it anymore.)

Both incidents had been framed as coincidences. But coincidence or not, including the matter with Aria, she had now thwarted three assassination attempts.

At this point, rather than wasting effort denying it, it would be wiser to leverage the First Prince’s faction as a shield for her own protection.

Having made up her mind, Ariadne slowly placed her hand in Arnold’s.