~Chapter 24~
As he approached, the woman looked at him with an expression as if she had met someone she knew.
After exchanging just a few words, she became flustered and started babbling things he hadn’t even asked.
Her small lips moved like a goldfish as she chattered, and the sound grated on his ears.
The rapidly beating of his heart was unbearable. He thought that must be the reason he felt so irritated.
He felt a strong urge to find out exactly who this woman was.
“I don’t recognize your face. Who are you?”
“Ah…”
Her already pale face turned even whiter, as if struck by lightning.
Seeing her gaze slowly drop to the ground, a surge of emotion rose within him, making his hand twitch unconsciously.
Just as he was doubting himself again, the woman lifted her head.
“I am Erdia of the Valandier Marquis family. I apologize for not greeting you properly, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
She lifted the hem of her dress slightly and bowed deeply in a refined manner.
She cautiously introduced herself as Erdia.
Her polite greeting was typical of a noble lady, yet something about it overlapped with a shadow of someone he knew.
‘I must be going insane.’
He accepted her greeting indifferently and turned his head away.
Perhaps the sleepless nights had been too long. Just facing this woman exhausted him.
He pressed his fingers against his eyes, but nothing changed.
The woman, standing awkwardly, sent him a worried look.
Her gaze and demeanor were annoyingly familiar. There had been a time when many women approached him like this.
“We’ve exchanged greetings, so let’s go in. I’d rather avoid misunderstandings by entering together.”
“Ah.”
Did his cold words hurt her?
“Th-then I’ll go ahead. It was an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
Her face turned deathly pale as if she had been harshly rebuked. She bit her lip and quickly fled the garden.
He pressed his throbbing head and stared at the spot where she had been standing.
Her actions—slapping her cheeks and pinching them to ground herself.
Her eyes, filled with longing, as if she had just met a long-lost lover.
“Ha.”
Seeing his target appear before entering the ballroom was an unexpected gain, yet his irritation deepened.
Why? Why was he so frustrated?
She was clearly someone he had never seen before, and he had confirmed she was his objective. He should have approached her with calculated grace, as Zerman had planned.
He needed to appear like a suitor, yet the words that came out were the exact opposite, exposing only his irritation and discomfort.
As she fled in panic, her trembling hands lingered in his mind.
Her delicate shoulders looked so pitiful that he almost reached out unconsciously.
Pitiful… Why?
“I really must be insane.”
His body refused to move as he wished.
Even when he had abandoned everything, he had never felt this way before.
He couldn’t return empty-handed, or his pride would be shattered. He needed to head back to the ballroom and act according to plan.
“Th-then I’ll go ahead. It was an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
Once, he had told her she could call him by his name. Now, she called him Crown Prince.
Once, just meeting her gaze would melt away his exhaustion. Now, even a brief glance from her made him uncomfortable.
She thought it would only hurt that he didn’t recognize her, but there was so much more pain than that.
How deeply had Livia Arfin betrayed and wounded him, for the once courteous man to treat women with such coldness now?
‘I knew. I knew it would be like this.’
She turned away, hiding her trembling body so he wouldn’t see.
Even though she had been looking at him out of concern, she greedily memorized every feature of his face.
She hadn’t even gotten a proper look last time, but today, she saw his beloved face fully. That was enough.
She tried to console herself with that, ignoring the sharp pain stabbing her heart.
‘Even if I told him I was the woman he once loved… he wouldn’t believe me in his state.’
She had promised herself she would never tell him the truth, yet her chest tightened unbearably.
Who could believe such a thing anyway? Only Marquis Valandier had believed her story.
Who would ever guess that a soul from another dimension had possessed a specific person’s body?
Maybe if she had told him back when she was still Livia Arfin, he might have believed it—thinking ‘if anyone touched by the gods could do it, it would be her.’
She could have proven herself by sharing knowledge from her original world.
But she was afraid. Afraid all the relationships she had built as Livia Arfin would crumble, so she hid it until the very end.
Now, that regret burrowed deeply into her heart.
‘Five years ago, Livia Arfin was just a young lady. Even if I told His Highness the truth, he wouldn’t believe me. He would just think it was another scheme by Livia to humiliate him.’
‘But there are old documents. If we brought those and Marquis Valandier spoke with him, he might believe…’
‘That… Actually, years ago, Livia Arfin did something similar. She deceived His Highness many times, pretending her memories had returned, whispering love, only to laugh cruelly at him the next day.’
‘What… what do you mean…’
She had locked herself away and cried all night after hearing that. The pain he must have felt was unbearable.
Livia Arfin had pretended to be someone else trapped in her body, only to humiliate him and laugh at his love-struck foolishness.
She did it not once, but multiple times, until he could no longer believe in her or any woman who approached him.
She left him with a despair so deep he would never rise again.
She felt like she was going insane. Rage made her body tremble, and sorrow tore at her heart.
She couldn’t even imagine the betrayal and pain he had felt, being toyed with by the woman he loved.
That woman, who couldn’t treasure anyone, saw exactly what relationships the protagonist valued most—and tore them apart, as if to ensure she could never rebuild them, even if she possessed that body again.
It was as if she was taking revenge on the protagonist for using her body.
If it was revenge, it had succeeded. Nothing had ever felt so horrifying.
The guilt, the grief, the helpless rage—it was all unbearable. She cried all night and made a decision.
She would never tell him the truth until the day Livia Arfin fell and Khalid could trust her completely.
No matter how much she spoke the truth, if he couldn’t believe it, it would only become another wound.
So this pain—she would bear it.
‘Compared to the pain Khalid has suffered, this is nothing. I have to stay strong.’
Finally calming her mind, she saw Serel approaching.
“Unni! Where were you? I’ve been looking everywhere!”
“Just getting some fresh air. Sorry, did you look for long?”
“Mmm, a bit. I got us a table! Let’s go!”
Serel, cheerful as always, linked arms with her and smiled proudly about reserving a table to show off her friend to everyone.
Listening to Serel’s chatter lifted her spirits a little.
But when they reached the table, they found unexpected guests had already taken the seats.
They sat there with smug grins, not bothering to hide their mockery, acting as if the seats rightfully belonged to them.
Flanked by her two older sisters, the girl exuded arrogant confidence.
She was Helena Joubert, daughter of Viscount Joubert, whom Serel had complained about endlessly.
Helena pointed at her with her chin and sneered, “That’s your sister?”
As expected, her rudeness showed from the very first word.
