How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 368

(368)

Naseria was fluent in the languages of the Southern Continent, the Imperial common language mainly used in the Western Continent, as well as the languages of the Eastern Continent and even the ancient Elvish language.

However, for diplomatic reasons, even if the other party was a member of the imperial family and this was a place to teach them the language, she could not speak to them first in the imperial language.

'ah.'

So she reflexively covered her mouth as she tried to ask the other person's name in the imperial language, coughed, and looked at the interpreter.

“Ask what his name is.”

The interpreter asked the black-haired royal.

Her red lips parted pleasantly, and the imperial prince answered softly.

“My name is Belisarios, Your Highness.”

Even the voice was nice to hear.

It was unprecedentedly kind, gentle, and even had a slightly light vibe.

It was a tone I hadn't heard since I was a child.

Naseria thought it was not a bad first impression and asked again through the interpreter.

“Who is your mother?”

“His Majesty the Emperor’s third wife, Belise. I am her second son.”

Naseria nodded slightly, remembering the name.

Of course, this was information that needed to be cross-checked.

“Why did you come to this country?”

“I fled because the tyrant of the empire, the White Witch, Jaylilith, and her twin, the Wicked Hwang, tried to kill me. I fought the White Witch on the day she ascended the throne, and was badly wounded. I escaped to the port at the end, and was gathering my loyal comrades. Then, last fall, the Wicked Hwang invaded and attacked us.”

His speech became faster, as if he was overcome with emotion.

The interpreter started to struggle halfway through and asked the royal family of Geum-an to repeat the statement.

But Nasseria had already understood everything, so she motioned for Belisarios to continue speaking.

He took a deep breath and continued.

“In fact, if it was to the extent of being sent to the capital, I would have thought of being dragged away without any problem. I cannot accept it, but the White Witch is already an emperor who enjoys the loyalty of the great nobles of the empire, and it is common for an emperor to imprison his older siblings.”

“Are you saying that it wasn’t to the extent of imprisoning him?”

The interpreter translated quickly, and Belisarios answered.

“They killed them all. Of the six half-siblings who came to the port at the end with me, I am the only one who survived.”

Naseria took a deep breath.

“That’s too bad.”

* * *

In the Emirate of Amir, genocide was strictly forbidden.

They will push you into a harem and make you drunk on alcohol, drugs, and the good looks of the opposite sex, but they will not kill you.

However, the White Witch of the Empire is said to have executed hundreds of royal family members along with my twin.

'It's amazing to see that the prestige of the royal family has not declined.'

Belisarios continued.

“It’s okay, Your Highness. The reason I came to this country is that I no longer wanted to live in a country ruled by such an emperor.”

“Couldn’t you have gone to another country?”

If you went to Doroisen or Langsowa, it would have been easy to adapt since the culture was similar, and if you went to the Eastern Continent, it would have been much safer.

Belisarios bowed his head.

“Please understand that I am in a situation where I have to run away in a hurry.”

"hmm."

It wasn't something that was incomprehensible.

If you launch a ship from the port at the end right now, you can get here.

And, he continued, speaking with a sigh.

“The Western countries have recently become more interfering in the internal affairs of the Empire due to its expansionist policies. All of the bishops of Doroisen have been replaced by people from Soletaraon, and many of the pro-imperial members of the council of Langsowa have been elected. Even if you try to seek asylum there, you will be sent back to the capital.”

The information was unexpectedly detailed.

'This can't be happening.'

Naseria secretly cheered.

“To get to the Eastern Continent, you either have to cross the seas teeming with monsters, or go through the Three Archipelagoes, which is practically impossible, and the Three Archipelagoes have recently been taken over by Cariosa, known as the lover of the Archduke of the Rebellion, and have declared herself king. This is the only place I can come.”

If he had such a detailed understanding of the continent's situation even while being chased, there was a high probability that he was a member of the high-ranking royal family.

If he could coax him into revealing more information, he might have another chance to catch the Sultan's eye.

Naseria asked, smiling inwardly with satisfaction.

Of course, it was through an interpreter.

“Very well. Will you submit to our Sultan and God? I know that the Light Faith is very important to you. If you are hesitant, you may think about it a little more.”

Belisarios thought for a moment, then smiled.

“How could I refuse the offer of such a beautiful woman as Your Highness the Princess? Yes. I will gladly submit to Your Highness.”

Her yellow eyes turned sad and her slightly pale cheeks flushed.

It was a laughter that was both naughty and innocent, like stealing someone's attention.

The interpreter muttered in Southern Continent dialect, "You crazy bastard."

Naseria thought so too.

“Okay. I’ll give you a room. And from now on, you’ll learn to speak to me at this time tomorrow.”

How dare you say something like that on our first meeting.

It was clear that he was completely crazy.

* * *

'What a clever guy.'

'A man must have some weight, to laugh so heartily.'

'Could it be that he is not a member of the royal family, but a spy from the empire who was doing business with a similar face? They say that in this city, male prostitutes and courtesans with purple eyes are more expensive.'

Naseria thought about Belisarios.

'Your thoughts just keep wandering.'

It had already been three days since he had taught her the language of the Southern Continent, commonly known as the 'Anatolian Common Language'.

He absorbed knowledge as if he were soaking dried seaweed in water.

'Please teach me a little more!'

'I'm busy!'

'No, just stay for 10 more minutes and then go.'

'You dare block the princess's path!'

'If you don't teach me, I'll jump out the window.'

'I don't know!'

Because she was so passionate about learning, she would hold on to me and waste all my precious time.

Because of that, I didn't have time to think about, let alone do, diplomatic work.

The Sultan's plan to detach himself from his work seemed to have been brilliantly successful.

‘… … He’s really that handsome.’

With that thought in mind, Naseria opened the door again today.

Squeak.

Belisarios was standing right in front of the door, smiling slyly.

“Whoa!”

She flinched reflexively, and he lowered his head with an exaggerated gesture.

“Your Highness, have you arrived?”

“You bastard……!”

The mournful voice was a bit awkward, but it clearly sounded like 'Anatolian common language'.

Naseria smiled and said without realizing it.

“Your pronunciation has become quite good.”

“Thanks to Your Highness the Princess.”

Suddenly, a breeze blew through the open window, and the sun beat down brightly.

Saaaaah.

Belisarios was wearing a thin white garment, suited to the hot southern climate, and when backlit, it was completely transparent.

Strong, white arms with bulging veins, a waist as slim as a leopard's, and abs that look like they're made of woven steel wire…

And a refreshing and clean scent, like green tea or flowers.

He's handsome, but he seems to have chosen the wrong scent.

I think almond or honey scent would suit it better than a flower scent.

'Why am I thinking like this!'

Naseria shook her head and went into the room with the interpreter.

“Today we will learn a religious greeting. You will remember the aristocratic greeting, right? ‘In the name of God, may you have eternal peace.’”

Belisarios immediately asked a question.

“What is the difference between a religious greeting and an aristocratic greeting?”

“There are those who are traditionally classified as military power, and those who are traditionally classified as temple power. To the military power, you should give an aristocratic greeting, and to the temple power, you should give a religious greeting.”

The principalities themselves were nationalized by local warlords of high reputation, and the temple power spread out from each stronghold city.

Typically, noble warriors belonged to the military, while members of the council and those involved in education, diplomacy, architecture, and agriculture belonged to the temple.

“Then what kind of greeting should I give to Her Highness the Princess?”

Naseria shut her eyes tightly.

That question, that look in his eyes, was the problem.

Those eyes, curved like crescent moons on fingernails, seemed neither smiling nor teasing, and they never left my mind.

“The Sultan and the Amirs are the commanders of the armies and the guardians of the temples. Therefore, both greetings must be addressed to me in turn.”

Belisarios nodded, slept for about five minutes, and then went to class.

“When you meet a temple attendant, say this: ‘May the beautiful grace of the nine gods be with you.’”

And after repeating those words over and over again, he stared intently at Naseria.

She took a step back without realizing it, and Belisarios greeted her, his sentences still continuing, though he hesitated slightly.

“May the grace of the nine gods and eternal peace be with you, beautiful one.”

The interpreter's mouth opened wide.

In the Emirate of Amir, it was considered a marriage proposal or flirtation for an unmarried man to compliment an unmarried woman's appearance.

Naseria gathered all her mental strength and answered coldly.

“The order is wrong. ‘Beautiful’ should come before ‘grace.’ It is not the counterpart, but a word that modifies grace.”

And Belisarios shattered that coldness into pieces.

“I will do so from now on, Your Majesty.”

He said he did it even though he knew it.

“That crazy guy.”

* * *

A few days later.

“I’ll stop here for today.”

Nasseria finished her lecture, holding the chalk in her cold hands.

At lunch today, the fiancé story came up 'again'.

After showing an unwilling reaction, he was hit by a tin cup thrown by the Sultan and his finger was broken.

'What on earth is that expression!'

Fortunately, I was able to get it right again and recover with a potion, but the numbness still remained.

“It took quite a while.”

“You must be tired. You must be hungry. Let’s go quickly.”

“Your Highness, please come with me. The chef in this palace is good at cooking.”

Naseria laughed inwardly.

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?”

If he had not been a member of the imperial family, the mere suggestion would have been punishable by death.

But when I saw that sly, yet somewhat aloof smile, it all felt meaningless.

So she made a choice that she would never have made under normal circumstances, when she was anxious about not getting caught.

“Okay. Go.”

The restaurant was originally designed to accommodate a nobleman and dozens of his attendants.

It seemed too desolate for Nasseria and Belisarios to sit at the window seat and have a meal together.

But the garden outside the window was beautiful, and there were several large flower pots nicely placed near the chair, and the floor was made of red bricks arranged in a spiral pattern, creating a unique pattern.

It was a very charming atmosphere.

The meal that day consisted of fish covered in a sauce that contained quite a bit of spice, served with chewy bread.

'I don't know if it will suit your taste.'

Naseria was worried that it might not suit Belisarios' taste.

'Why do I care about that?'

I was annoyed that I was worried.

“Your Majesty, the fish is very delicious.”

I felt empty when I realized that my worries were pointless.

It hurts.

The moment she was about to apply the bone, pain shot through her right hand again.

It wasn't so bad that I couldn't stand it, but it wasn't so bad that I couldn't handle the chopsticks delicately either.

'There's chaos.'

She smiled bitterly and put down her chopsticks.

While I was debating whether I should try using my left-handed chopsticks, Belisarios extended his hand in an exaggerated motion.

“Would you allow me the honor of helping Your Highness prepare a meal?”

And before I could even answer, he took the chopsticks and a large plate, removed the fins on the back and belly, and even pulled out the spines in the center of the body.

Naseria said after much thought.

"……thanks."

We drank sweet tea during the meal and said prayers after the meal.

She prayed to the nine gods in turn, and Belisarios looked shocked.

“Isn’t it a different god every day? I’ve been making a big mistake.”

Naseria burst into laughter with an expression of absurdity on her face.

“What is that? It’s ridiculous. You have to pray to everyone every day so that the divine power within your body can be balanced and protect your body and mind. You might think it’s strange, but-.”

Belisarios denied in a serious voice.

"no."

"huh?"

“It’s a very wizardly and… subjective way. Rather than blindly following, it allows the power of the gods to be balanced within the body.”

Naseria noticed for a moment that his expression had become strange, but she thought it was due to differences in their cultural backgrounds and did not pay much attention to it.

He asked, seeming a little hesitant.

“……Are you also a priest, Princess?”

“We are called Imams. I can’t do that.”

Naseria answered and regretted it at the same time.

It was something that didn't need to be said to the imperial family.

“……I said something I shouldn’t have said. It was rude.”