The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

The man, his face gleaming with sweat, crumpled to the floor.

His once-round face had thinned slightly during his confinement, but Leia Lindbergh felt no pity.

“Prohibition of land ownership and leasing. You forbade them from growing even a single weed in their gardens, yet taxed eighty percent of their harvest.”

The man fidgeted every time Leia Lindbergh rustled the papers in her hand, but the steely gazes of the soldiers flanking her kept him subdued.

“And not just the crops. You extorted rent for their dilapidated homes, burying them under mountains of debt with exorbitant interest.”

This was just one of countless interrogations.

Leia and her entourage had discovered a discrepancy—villagers sharing the same border wall were under different lords’ jurisdictions. They’d begun raiding seemingly ordinary homes, uncovering hidden nobles lurking within.

She was astounded by the sheer number of self-proclaimed nobles, flaunting unearned titles, exploiting the commoners.

The Heineken soldiers stationed at the lords’ castles were bewildered to discover village headmen, mere commoners, acting as lords.

Leia Lindbergh finally understood how so few nobles had controlled so many territories, and why the commoners hadn’t revolted sooner.

These imposters, lacking any sense of nobility or responsibility, shameless and opportunistic, had simply gone into hiding during the riots, while Heineken’s soldiers arrested the true lords.

“And not content with simply exploiting them…”

Leia’s gaze shifted to the young woman kneeling beside the man, shivering uncontrollably.

A small child, too young to walk steadily, clung to her, clutching her breast.

“You took her underage daughter as payment?”

Nausea welled up within Leia. She clenched her fists, her teeth grinding together.

Their lack of originality was as infuriating as their crimes. The same patterns of exploitation were repeated across every territory.

They were like mass-produced villains, churned out of some grotesque noble academy.

“Do you even know how old she is? Have you no shame?”

The noble, his receding hairline gleaming, looked up defiantly.

He felt unjustly accused. Everything in this land belonged to the nobles. What was wrong with demanding compensation for allowing these penniless commoners to use their resources?

They couldn’t even pay their taxes on time. He’d had no choice but to take what he could.

“This woman came to me willingly. We are married. Love knows no age.”

Love? How dare he invoke such a sacred word?

Leia’s expression turned glacial.

The woman beside him looked barely older than a child.

Certainly younger than Leia. The fear in her eyes as she looked at her ‘husband’ was more prominent than any affection.

Leia’s eyebrows shot up.

“Is that why, during your comfortable confinement in this warm house, you provided your ‘beloved’ wife, nursing a newborn, with nothing but a thin dress while you bundled yourself in a padded coat?”

The woman’s toes, peeking out from summer sandals instead of winter boots, were blue with cold.

Leia’s sharp gaze scrutinized the frostbite scars on her feet and the marks on her wrists, visible beneath her sleeves.

“I-I… I get cold easily… because of my… age…”

Leia Lindbergh stood up and slowly approached the man.

He tried to scramble back, but Heineken soldiers had silently surrounded them.

“Someone bring this woman a blanket and some warm soup.”

At Leia’s gesture, the woman, still clutching her child, was led away by the soldiers.

“Hey.”

The man couldn’t believe his ears.

He’d spent decades currying favor with the lords, finally earning the title of Baron. He’d never been addressed so casually.

A woman, a disgraced princess, daring to speak to him like this?

“Are you so old that you can’t even hear? I’m talking to you.”

The soldiers stifled their laughter at the princess’s street-thug-like tone.

The Baron stammered, still in denial.

“Have some decorum!”

“I have no decorum to spare for the likes of you.”

“But… even between a ruler and their subject… such disrespect…”

He was about to protest the impropriety of her behavior when the princess slammed her foot down between his legs.

“

!”

“What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll crush your useless balls?”

Leia chuckled.

“Do you even understand the law you so readily invoke?”

It was laughable, a fake noble like him talking about the law.

Lindbergh’s absolute monarchy was a joke.

She almost laughed, picturing her father, so easily manipulated, completely oblivious to the nobles’ schemes.

Her shoulders shook with amusement, then her expression hardened.

“Where is your first wife?”

The Baron’s face contorted.

His first wife had been cast out, penniless, the moment he’d received his title.

How could Leia Lindbergh possibly know this?

“I met a kind couple who took in a young woman with a broken leg. Her injuries were so severe, beyond the physician’s ability to heal, that she was left permanently crippled. There are people who remember her. Your first wife.”

The soldiers, sensing Leia’s rising fury, discreetly covered their noses and mouths.

“You’re going to die anyway. Whether you confess or deny it. So, why?”

The Baron trembled.

“S-She… she couldn’t bear children… so…”

Leia cut him off, not wanting to hear his pathetic excuses.

“And where is your second wife?”

“Second wife?”

That had been years ago. The Baron’s eyes widened.

“I told you, denial is pointless. Where is your second wife, the one you stole from her ailing father, who’d refused forced labor?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Of course you don’t. Her father retrieved her body from the riverbed.”

Leia Lindbergh had personally gathered this information, visiting the villages, speaking to the people.

The rot beneath the surface was far worse than she could have imagined. Her head throbbed with fury.

“It was an accident! She ran away! It wasn’t my fault!”

The Baron, panicking, was digging his own grave.

The soldiers tapped their scabbards against the floor impatiently.

Leia drew her sword.

The gleaming blade, stained with blood, reflected the Baron’s grim future.

“One last time. Where is your third wife?”

“I… I don’t know! I don’t have one! I haven’t taken another wife!”

Leia smirked, using the tip of her sword to lift the Baron’s chin.

“So, you finally confess. You didn’t take another wife. You simply kept a string of concubines and… playthings.”

As if on cue, the door opened, and several emaciated men and women entered.

Where had they come from? She’d sent them away earlier.

The Baron flinched, and Leia sharpened her gaze.

“Don’t move.”

She ignored the newcomers, her eyes fixed on the Baron.

“Did any of you willingly offer yourselves to this man?”

They remained silent.

“Or perhaps… were any of you spared from his… abuse?”

Bearing the visible marks of his cruelty, none could deny his crimes.

“No! That’s not true!”

The Baron screamed, his voice cracking.

He’d provided for them, clothed and fed them, and this was how they repaid him?

He yelled, his voice laced with indignation, “They offered themselves to me willingly! In exchange for my protection! They’re mine! I can do as I please! I’m a noble!”

The Heineken soldiers stomped their feet in unison.

A silent protest.

A wordless declaration that this man deserved no mercy.

Most of them were commoners. They couldn’t tolerate his behavior.

“You bastard pig.”

Leia’s voice, though soft, resonated with such power that the soldiers fell silent.

“I refuse to even utter your name. I’ll call you Baron Pig. Shall I tell you what happened to Viscount Bat, the one before you? I beheaded him where he stood.”

The Baron gasped, his eyes darting around, searching for an escape route. There was none.

“Do you know why? He buried his concubine’s newborn alive because it wasn’t a differentiator. His distraught concubine testified against him, and the midwife and servants corroborated her story.”

As the Baron trembled, Leia’s sword pricked his throat.

Her eyes, bloodshot, shifted from the Baron to the group of commoners.

“Witnessing this man’s demise will be unpleasant. Do you wish to stay? Or leave?”

A woman stepped forward.

“I’ll stay.”

She’d been at the mansion the longest, had witnessed his depravity firsthand.

“Then I will too.”

“I’ll stay as well.”

None left.

“How dare you!”

The Baron struggled, but Leia slammed the hilt of her sword against his shoulder, knocking him to the ground.

Ignoring his whimpers, she continued, her voice ringing with authority, “Every life belongs to the goddess. Birth and death are her domain. What makes you, a mere noble, believe you have the right to control them?”

Leia sighed internally.

How many more times would she have to repeat these words?

The Baron groaned, his lips parched, his head throbbing.

Leia’s eyes glowed with a cold fire.

“Did you feel a thrill, watching them grovel at your feet? Did it make you feel like a god?”

Even the onlookers gasped at the sheer force of her presence, emanating from such a small frame.

“It must have been intoxicating. Blinded by your own power, did you truly not realize that the charcoal fires burning throughout your home would eventually consume you as well?”

The Baron foamed at the mouth. Leia’s sword flashed, severing his leg.

“Confiscate all his assets. Sell his luxuries to the merchants, compensate his victims. Distribute the remaining goods, clothing, and food among the villagers.”

Before the Baron could even process the loss of his leg, his head rolled across the floor.

“It never belonged to you anyway. Don’t mourn its loss in hell.”

To everyone’s surprise, a single tear rolled down Leia Lindbergh’s cheek as she beheaded the Baron.

It wasn’t out of pity or remorse, but grief. Grief for those who’d suffered so much, whose hatred ran so deep that a life and some monetary compensation seemed like a paltry offering.