The Crimson General Desires no Prince! (GL)
Chapter 33 - 31: The Dregs (I).

Chapter 33: Chapter 31: The Dregs (I).

Chapter 31: The Dregs (I).

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Carriage Parking Spot

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"I have this here!" The boxes were fitted into the trunk of the carriage, the royal guards tried piecing together like little puzzles in order to make it work. Honestly, they would’ve groaned and complained about how all of this was required in their line of work.

Thankfully, the good princess paid them all beforehand with gold coins.

That much is already their half month salary.

"What do we do with the other stuff that can’t fit inside the carriage trunk?" One royal guard asks, scratching his head wondering how this will work. "There are two barrels of clean water that can’t fit. Not to mention the three boxes of bread..."

Jonathan irks guiltily wondering if that much bread is too much.

"We could rent another carriage?" One suggested but the princess shakes her head.

Thinking there was no need.

"I would not trouble the others for that, please place it inside the carriage. I will walk alongside you to the dregs." She insisted and almost all of the guards said no.

"Your highness you don’t have to walk- if the King hears of this we will never hear the end of it."

"I insist." She tells them but they all disagree.

Princess Camille eyes Rowan before turning to her steed, "Well if you will not let me walk. I will ride with my fiance instead."

"...?!" (Rowan)

"Gasp?!" (Jonathan)

"...!" (The other guards)

Jonathan gasps happily with the idea, he could tell that Rowan was nervous as always but this is just an opportunity for the both of them to get closer. He glares at the other royal guards to read the room. "Ahem! We are nothing but the bodyguards of her highness! What you wish is our order! Ayo, guard man my friend let’s go load up everything in this fancy carriage. You don’t want to keep the princess waiting!"

"Is it alright with you, General?" The royal guards ask Rowan who politely nods, pulling the reins of her horse.

"It is alright with me. Black beauty has gotten used to other people riding her so it should be fine." (Rowan) assures all of the guards that it was fine and so they reluctantly agreed to leave the eldest princess in her care.

"Mrrrph."

Black beauty eyes the princess and she sniffs the scent of the stranger, trying to get to know her.

"Is this the horse that you were talking about? The famous black beauty."

"Mm."

"I see that she’s well taken care of, her mane is soft and shiny."

Rowan adjusts the saddle to be ridden by two people before offering her hand to the princess. "I’ll carry you up to the saddle, your highness."

"No need I can probably..." Her foot tries standing on top of the stirrup, but the heels she’s wearing makes it really difficult for her to do so.

"Here," (Rowan) said softly, stepping closer. "Let me help you."

The princess opened her mouth to protest, but the warmth in the other woman’s eyes quieted her. Before she could say another word, strong arms circled her waist. The touch was careful but steady, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.

The princess gasped softly, her hands instinctively resting on Rowan’s shoulders. For a moment, their faces were close- so close she could feel the faint warmth of breath against her cheek.

The princess swallowed, fingers tightening on the reins. "You make it look easy."

Rowan smiled, adjusting the stirrups before riding with Princess Camille.

The princess barely had time to steady herself before she felt the shift of movement below her. Rowan placed a hand on the saddle and swung herself up in one smooth motion, settling behind her with practiced ease. The warmth of her presence was immediate, the press of her frame steady but not overwhelming.

The princess exhaled slowly, her back barely grazing against Rowan’s chest.

"Are you alright with my decision to ride with you?" She murmured, trying to focus on the path ahead and not the sudden awareness of their closeness.

Ding!

[Notification: Heroine is happy she’s riding with her].

"I’m... happy."

Rowan’s so happy her heart is leaping out of her chest.

She reached around, her hands brushing the princess’s as she took the reins. The princess stilled, heat creeping up her neck at the casual intimacy of it.

"Comfortable?" (Rowan) asked, voice quieter now.

The princess swallowed. "Yes."

A pause.

"..." (Jonathan) wasn’t expecting the eldest princess to be this kind of character.

He thought he was going to be any other noble girl that was afraid of commoners, especially the ones that’s from the "slum".

"Let us go, everyone."

She moved with an ease that spoke of familiarity with the dirt beneath her heels, her clothes worn with use rather than display.

Royals, he thought, were meant to sit on velvet cushions, sipping fine wines and speaking in carefully measured tones.

"So tell me more about black beauty and how the two of you met." The princess seemed interested in horses, she kept patting Black beauty’s mane nonstop since she sat in the saddle.

"I... met her in a village... I ran away from home at that time and needed to get to nightwind academy as quickly as possible. I was lucky as I had saved a wealthy girl who gave me this horse for free." (Rowan) did not mention the fact that the same girl she saved is still gunning for her even now.

She rejected her countless times but alas, her love for Rowan could only be explained as: "If you’re still single then there’s still time!"

"We ventured out to the academy together and had some tough times when we were placed in the front lines. Black beauty’s hard work didn’t go unnoticed as she received a medal of honor just like I did."

"Well... both of you must’ve been through a lot." She carried herself with the confidence of someone who had seen battlefields rather than ballrooms, her presence commanding not because of her title, but because of something far more raw and real.

"Your highness tells me if you’re uncomfortable, we can take a break."

"...I’m enjoying the view and I’m sure everyone else is as well." The princess gestures to the people on the streets who were curiously watching the two.

There were those whispers again, seemingly following them wherever they went.

"Goodness me, is that the princess and the rumored crimson general? It’s been told around that they’re to be wedded. Isn’t it awful?"

"Indeed I know she’s the hero who defeated the demon king but surely she would have chosen a proper husband?"

"And I saw her guards buying a few things. Whatever could they be for?"

"...Is that allowed?"

As the gossips even reached her highness she didn’t help but roll her eyes and laugh. "They really should mind their own business, isn’t that right General Rowan?"

Rowan couldn’t really pay much attention to her surroundings because the princess is currently resting her head to her chest.

"Y-Yes, your highness."

Jonathan clicks her tongue, feeling so proud that her friend landed a baddie princess because look at her being so nervous- he’s never seen her this out of it.

"Hang in there buddy!"

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The Dregs.

-The slum area of the capital city, it’s not well known amongst tourists but for the locals- they try to pretend that part of their city doesn’t exist.

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It was on the very outskirts of the city, none dare to enter, not unless it was for... shady businesses.

The merchants who wandered the Dregs were a breed of their own sharp-eyed, sharp-tongued, and hardened by years of selling to people with empty pockets.

Their stalls were makeshift wooden crates stacked high, cloth draped over rusted carts, goods laid out on blankets that could be snatched up in an instant if the city guard came sniffing around. They sold everything and anything: stale bread and half-rotten fruit, rusty tools, secondhand clothes, and medicines of questionable origin.

Then there were the less honest merchants, the ones who thrived on vice. Bottles of cheap, throat-burning liquor hidden beneath their coats, tiny packets of powders and herbs promising escape from the misery of the Dregs, or weapons small enough to conceal but sharp enough to kill. They never called out their wares like the others. Their business was done in murmurs, in the corners of alleys where the shadows stretched long.

The beggars of the Dregs were as much a part of the streets as the filth that coated the cobblestones. They sat hunched in doorways, wrapped in rags that barely kept out the cold, hands outstretched in silent pleas. Some muttered prayers to gods who had long since stopped listening. Others didn’t bother- faith didn’t fill empty stomachs.

For those too old or broken to work, begging was the only option. Former laborers with crippled hands, soldiers discarded after a war no one remembered, mothers who had lost too much to keep going. They begged not just for coin but for kindness, for someone to see them as more than just another piece of the Dregs’ decay.

And then there were the children. They ran in packs, barefoot and fast, slipping between legs and vanishing into the maze of alleys before a mark even realized their coin purse was gone. Some were orphans, others abandoned- too many mouths to feed meant sacrifices had to be made. They learned young that the world didn’t care for them, so they stopped caring back.

The lucky ones found a gang to take them in, older thieves who taught them the art of survival- how to cut a purse, how to run, when to fight and when to beg. The unlucky ones starved or fell into the hands of those who saw children as nothing more than another resource to be used.

They held onto childhood the best they could, knowing the Dregs would take it from them soon enough.

"We’re here."

The party stood still eyeing the entrance of where the Dregs lay, Rowan eyes her surroundings and notices several people watching them.

But... she can only feel them... she can’t see them.

"..." (Rowan) places a hand on her sword, focusing and glaring at the corner of the carriage.

"Psst- Rowan, do you feel that too?" It seems that Jonathan noticed and came to warm Rowan.

Princess Camille eyes the two and Rowan explains to the party what was happening. "Mm... we’re being watched. I’m not sure how far they are from us, I can’t sense their presence... I hope that I’m not wrong."

He turns to Jonathan and the rest of the royal guards who nods, "Make sure that we stay on high alert."

As the road got deeper, they were almost at the main area of the Dregs.

"Your highness, please be careful and remember that we’re not from around here. The moment we drop in our supply for them, there could be people getting ready to ambush us." It was William Marshall who warned her and she understands the weight of what she was doing.

Rowan could feel the princess leaning over by the side, "I know."

"I’m about to leave my home. This is the first time I’ve been out of the palace. I consider this my home too and it hurts to see my people suffer. I donate when I can, but it’s a bigger difference if I came here and helped myself."

Sir William lowers his head.

The difference between them was stark. He had spent his life bowing and fighting for nobles who would never spare him a second glance, yet she stood before him as if rank meant nothing.

It unsettled him. Royals weren’t supposed to be like this- weren’t supposed to feel this... human.

Thud!

The carriage stops, the royal guard who was at the very front signals that this was the main area of the Dregs.

"We can’t go any further, your highness."

"It’s alright, let us prepare everything then."