Goblin Slayer - Volume 11 - Chapter 4.1

Interlude – Princess Of Persia

The princess despised the prime minister. Just as much as she despised the captain of the guard she had been confronting moments before. 

Of course, this wasn’t because she simply hated everyone. Nothing of the sort. This was not a favorable night for a ride on a sand ship like the one that now cut its way through the rain-washed air. 

“Well now, Princess. I must say you’re not looking in the finest spirits.” Even the wind that blew across the deck couldn’t carry off the obnoxious, pestering note in the voice. 

If looks could kill, the princess would have murdered him with the eyes she had on him now. “How could I be? How could anyone be, after what I saw—after what you made me watch?” She spat the words with a vehemence unusual for a woman of such high birth. The words mingled with the sand and whipped away. 

The prime minister put his hand on the curved saber at his hip and considered the silhouetted skyline of the capital. He offered only a dismissive snort. He didn’t hide the sunbaked, blue-black skin that revealed him to be of dark elf blood. “I admit, it was not the most delicate thing to do. Consider it a reflection of our dear captain’s persona.” 

“Unbelievable…” The princess bit her lip. “If my father were alive, he would never allow this.” 

“Indeed, in his passing we lost a truly fine man.” The prime minister shook his head. He spoke the words, but he didn’t believe them. “I assure you, it breaks my heart. To imagine I had someone in my employ who would resort to such underhanded methods!” 

This much, it seemed, was the truth. The prime minister knit his brow with sorrow, and he truly did seem to feel regret. It was the same expression he had produced for the princess at the scene of the crime. Perhaps it was all he could do; to look pleased about such a thing would have condemned one as no better than a goblin. 

“He didn’t understand what he was doing. He simply followed his idea through to its natural conclusion.” 

“Well your uncomprehending captain and you, who allowed him to do what he did, are neither of you better than goblins.” 

This barb seemed to touch the prime minister’s pride especially deeply. His eyes opened wide, a fire burning within them, and he all but grabbed the princess. “You truly believe Order alone can preserve a country?” 

“That’s why ours was destroyed,” the princess said, quelling her instant of fear, instead drawing a deep, measured breath into her ample chest. “But those who rely entirely on Chaos meet the same fate.” 

“You speak as if you knew anything about it.” 

“I do. Do you have any idea what you look like right now?” Shallow, manipulative, foolish, and prideful—and beyond salvation. “You have no knowledge nor courage. Only a filthy, haughty power.” 

The princess let out a breath, forced her knees to stop shaking, and stared resolutely ahead. 

The prime minister didn’t intend to kill her immediately, but there was still fright. He had usurped the kingship. If the princess was not recognized as the legitimate heir, there would most likely be a rebellion among the people. It would be possible to put it down by sheer force, but that would be a great deal of extra trouble… Thus, the prime minister had shown the princess what he had shown her. Perhaps he had hoped to break her spirit, but his hope had been in vain. 

There was just one small thing she could cling to in this moment. By sending out a quest via her pet rat, she had been able to help her faithful ladies-in-waiting to escape. They would bring help, she was sure. Someone or something to cast the darkness out of this nation. They had to. 

“Ah yes,” the prime minister said, not looking at her. “If you are thinking of your friends, let me inform you right now that they cannot help you.” 

“…!” 

“You should know full well, Princess, how skilled our nation’s soldiers are. I expect to receive their severed heads shortly.” 

The princess opened her mouth to retort, but this time nothing would come out. 

“You haven’t much time left. I advise you to think carefully.” 

And with that, the prime minister seemed to lose interest in the princess. She resisted the urge to collapse as she thought of the magical hourglass to which her life was connected. When all the sand had fallen through it, her life and her soul would be forfeit, plaything of the djnni for all eternity. 

The prime minister, she felt sure, would not especially mind this outcome. Whether because it saved him the trouble of turning her into a mindless puppet or simply out of the cruelty that so often seemed endemic to dark elves… 

The princess could only speculate as to why she had been given this reprieve. Her hands were not bound, her feet were not chained, but she was unquestionably a prisoner at this moment. And when they got back to the castle, she would certainly not be allowed out of her chambers. But still—indeed, for this very reason—there was no cause to treat her as though she were their captive. 

I should at least keep my head raised. I would rather look up at the stars than down at the mud. 

Even if those stars were presently concealed by dark clouds.