The Prince Doesn’t Cry From Mere Onions – Chapter 19.2 – Sleepy Translations

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6-7 minutes 28.08.2021

A few hours later.

Carla all but lost her mind at the carriage that came to a stop in front of her house.

The bear she’d just barely managed to chase out was back, with some pig in his arms.

The village chief was flat on his face inside the carriage, pretending to be inebriated.

Her rabbit-like daughter was looking up at her with an expression saying, ‘Mom, please don’t scold me!’ on her face.

While she couldn’t decide whose collar she had to grab, Bertram spoke first to drive her even more crazy.

“This is the baby of a well-bred pig from the next city over.
I will give it to you as a gift.”

Carla raised her head to say a word or two, but curse it.
Bertram was too big.
No matter how much she jutted her chin up, she could see the pig he held up better than she could his face.

It was a very plump black pig.

And it was very cute.

In front of this baby pig, making sounds like squick squick, Carla just couldn’t work a harsh expression onto her face.

Eventually, Carla covered her chin and mouth to fake a severity and spoke.

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“Let me be frank with you.
Mr.
Bertram, you are nothing but an intruder here.
At first, you looked so haggard that we looked after you for the price of some errands, but….
Honestly, the little chores you did here weren’t that big of a help to us.”

“Do you mean to say that my work at the restaurant had no value?”

“Yes.
Please don’t think that I’m being too cold, and—”

“Then that must mean I have not repaid all my debts yet.”

She was doomed.

Bertram strode forward with all the vigor of one determined to bury his bones at this very restaurant.

“As I suspected, you were exaggerating when you said yesterday that ‘calculating on workload, you’ve done enough to repay the debt to Hans three times over’ as you were sending me off.
I understand.
The work you’ve given me all this time was too easy, actually.
From now on, please order me to do anything.
I can catch wolves.
I can also peel three sacks of onions as well.”

“Wait! I already said you don’t need to repay those!”

“Please do not refuse.
I will show you my value in any way that I can.
Oh, the pig looks to be hungry.
What should it be fed?”

“Quee! Squree!”

A hot mess.

Carla began with what looked like the most urgent, at least for now.

“Stop holding the pig like you’re nursing a newborn! Hahh.
How can I trust you enough to leave anything to you!”

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“If you tell me something once, I will learn and act upon it right away.
Where should the pig be kept? It can’t be at the public farm.”

“A place we can use at home could be….
Right, we have a place we used as a vegetable storage before.
For now, leave it there and come back out here.”

“Understood.”

Bertram took the baby pig and crossed over the restaurant.
Anna followed after him, smiling gleefully.
Strangely enough, she looked somewhat triumphant.

Oblivious to the fact that her own daughter was thinking, ‘see, I knew cuteness was the best!’—

Carla’s wandering sharp eyes pinned down on the village chief’s face.

“Chief.
What did I ask you to do again?”

“…You only asked me to give him a ride.
You never said I can’t bring him back.”

“Keep that nonsense to yourself.
If we keep letting him back in, he really might spread his roots here in the village!”

“It’s not like loafers Anna picked up haven’t become laborers in town before.
Why’re you so afraid?”

After rubbing his face, the village chief lifted his head.
From the shameless expression on his face, it seemed the chief already thought that things would indeed go that way.

Carla suppressed the urge to land him a good punch.

“That was when most people we met were the wounded, and I restrained myself thinking of my husband or friends who’d died in the war.
Chief.
I want to live looking at only things that soothe my heart now.
Peaceful things, and only familiar people….”

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Even as she spoke, Carla glanced backwards, unsure of when Bertram might come back.

The village chief understood Carla’s feelings.
Who among those that lived through war didn’t yearn for peace, after all?

“Carla, I can guarantee you one thing, and that is: that man is not bad.”

“Did he buy you a drink?”

“What do you take me for! Ahem, anyways.
It was festival season at the city, and would you know they held this weird contest?”

The village chief continued his story.

How inside the insane festival overrun with boars, Bertram came out of it retrieving the wounded.

And, breathing in deeply and with an apology on his lips, the chief also spoke of the story with the human trafficking ring.

Carla paled.

The chief stammered through his apology.

“It won’t make a difference how many times I say it, but I’m very sorry.
I couldn’t stop the children from going into somewhere so dangerous.”

“What happened, did the patrol guards come quickly?”

“No.
While the guards were tripping over themselves, Bertram alone went into the human traffickers’ den and saved the two of them.”

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“How could that….”

“This one thing I can say with confidence.
Bertram is a good guy.”

The village chief looks patiently at Carla.
Yellowy eyes of jaundice from a long-time drunkard.
But held within them were pure emotions.

The hope that ‘I’d like to see good things happen to good people.’

And Carla, who had not been able to wash off her own scars from the war, must be a part of that hope.

“If you ever want to chase him off, then say so at any time.
But I wanted to say that you do not have to be afraid in advance.”

Having said that, the chief climbed atop the carriage.
The rattling wagon disappeared into the distance, and soon Anna and Bertram returned.

“Mom, we’ve made a little pigpen.
He’s the offspring of the fattest pig in the city, so he’ll definitely grow huge!”

“Do you really think our feed will be the same as what they feed in the city? Don’t expect too much.”

“…Huh, is that right?”

“And so.”

Carla whipped her head around to look at Bertram and spoke.

“From now on, you have to take responsibility and feed the pig well.
Understand, Mr.
Bertram?”