Chapter 19…
Adria’s eyes flew wide open, his lips parting halfway in shock.
Even on his startled face, Clarissa caught the flicker of wavering red in his pupils.
You don’t really have a choice but to accept, do you? That’s just the kind of man you are.
Clarissa smiled viciously.
Over her half-lidded gaze, tightly packed lines of text came into view.
The man took a long drink of red wine, recalling the woman with chestnut hair who had chased after his close friend that night long ago.
The woman who had crawled through the imperial palace as if clinging to his trouser leg had been thoroughly unpleasant, but she had, once again, proven just how patient his friend truly was.
A sound like pure admiration escaped the man’s lips.
“Your patience is impressive.”
“My apologies.”
“Well, it’s fine.”
At Aryan’s apology, the man merely shrugged. He wasn’t just being polite.
“Watching that woman crawl around the palace like a dog was quite a spectacle.”
The corners of the man’s well-shaped lips curved slightly. His red eyes glittered with unmistakable amusement.
You really do hate me that much, don’t you?
Clarissa’s eyes cooled to ice.
It was a “novel,” after all—something that would never happen again.
But even if the timing and circumstances changed, human instincts did not vanish so easily.
“So… crawling around the imperial palace?”
As expected, Adria spoke up, unable to hide his curiosity.
Clarissa responded lazily, as if indulging him.
“Do you dislike the idea?”
“No. It sounds entertaining.”
“Then… you’re agreeing?”
Clarissa’s golden eyes sparkled as they caught at the end of Adria’s gaze.
The red-eyed beast smacked his lips, baring his teeth.
“Fine. But you’d better keep your promise.”
* * *
“Clarissa!”
Marquis Vestas recognized his daughter at once and rushed toward her from afar.
Clarissa surveyed the deathly atmosphere around her, then greeted her father with an utterly innocent expression.
“Where on earth have you been?!”
The shout was nearly furious, but Clarissa had no trouble finding the affection buried beneath it.
Without a word, she threw herself into Vestas’s arms.
“Marquis Vestas.”
Adria, who had been watching the tear-jerking family reunion, called out just as Vestas looked ready to burst into tears.
His eyes widened as if they could swallow the world.
“…Your Highness, the Crown Prince?”
“Is she your daughter?”
Adria’s gaze moved back and forth between Clarissa and Vestas.
Only then did Clarissa’s absurd behavior begin to make a certain amount of sense.
An overbearing father who doesn’t know his place, and a daughter who dares to mouth off to the Crown Prince—now that I look at them, they’re exactly alike.
Unaware of the thoughts Adria swallowed down, Vestas voiced his own confusion.
“Yes, she is. But what in the world happened here—”
“Why don’t you ask the person involved?”
Adria cut him off before he could hear anything more.
He had already wasted enough time.
His gaze landed on Clarissa one last time.
The sight of her making such an adorable face while nestled in her father’s arms was downright nauseating.
As if erasing her from view, Adria shook his head and turned back toward where he had come from.
Clarissa called out brightly at his retreating back.
“I’ll see you again, Your Highness!”
This time, Adria neither stopped nor looked back.
Once his figure dwindled to a dot and vanished, a barrage of questioning looks clung to Clarissa’s cheeks.
“Clarissa, what happened?”
“Oh, Dad.”
Even under Vestas’s interrogation, Clarissa’s sunny smile never faded.
“It wasn’t anything serious. His Highness said he was bored, so I played with him a little.”
* * *
The deal with the Crown Prince went smoothly.
But separate from that, a new and far from insignificant problem had arisen in her plans.
At the Matthias estate—cool and gloomy even today—Clarissa watched the heavy atmosphere with displeasure before approaching the boy sitting limply in front of her.
“Aryan?”
Aryan didn’t respond, as though his mind were somewhere else entirely.
Giving up on waiting, Clarissa lightly tapped his shoulder.
Startled, blue eyes snapped toward her.
Aryan met Clarissa’s gaze for a brief moment, then quickly dropped his head.
Clarissa thought,
Something’s definitely off.
Avoiding her eyes wasn’t unusual for Aryan—but the problem started after that.
“I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”
“Oh—y-you’re here…? I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d come.”
At Clarissa’s apology, Aryan offered an awkward smile, lifting only the corners of his lips.
That fragile smile, as though it might vanish at the slightest breeze, planted a small seed of unease in Clarissa’s heart.
Aryan wasn’t a child who smiled while looking this weighed down.
He looks like he’s forcing it.
No matter how she looked at it—front, back, or upside down—he clearly seemed to be hiding something.
Clarissa began to suspect that something had happened to him.
She had already felt that the time was right for his stepmother to start making moves.
But there had been no separate reports from the spy she had planted in the count’s household.
In the end, Clarissa decided to draw the information out of Aryan himself and began to think.
But before she could organize her thoughts, her mouth moved first.
“Could it be that that damn—”
“Pardon?”
Too fast.
Clarissa hurriedly clamped a hand over her mouth, blocking the curse that nearly slipped out.
Her eyes rolled around, searching desperately for somewhere to land.
“Did something happen with Lady Matthias?”
She chose her words carefully as she spoke to Aryan, who waited anxiously for her answer.
He seems to want to hide the fact that he’s being mistreated by that viper, Bellisa. Asking him outright if she’s been harassing him would be… a bit much, wouldn’t it?
But Aryan’s reaction was nothing like she had expected.
After pondering the intent behind her question for a moment, he replied,
“The lady has been busy lately, so I haven’t seen her often.”
It was an earnest, diligent answer.
His clearer-than-usual voice carried no hint of falsehood.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”
“N-no…”
Seeing him apologize in a voice that sounded half-dead made Clarissa’s conscience ache to the point of tearing.
Unable to hide her flustered state, Clarissa opened her mouth and waved her hands frantically.
But it was already too late.
Aryan could no longer bring himself to properly meet her gaze.
Don’t tell me… he thinks I asked because I was genuinely worried about that woman?
Clarissa’s face darkened by the second.
At this point, saying that wasn’t what she meant would only sound ridiculous.
If it’s not because of her, then why does he look so drained?
One hypothesis had been ruled out, but her doubts remained.
Clarissa retraced her memories—from her life as the writer Kang, to the days she had spent with Aryan after regaining memories of her past life.
Then, as if something clicked, she slammed her fist into her palm.
Her sun-bright eyes sparkled.
Clarissa tested her final hypothesis.
“Oh! Aryan, I’m sorry I couldn’t come by yesterday. I had something to take care of.”
“It’s alright, my lady.”
The reply came almost immediately.
Aryan didn’t seem angry, nor particularly sad.
Yet the complicated look on his face and that brittle, break-at-any-moment smile gnawed viciously at Clarissa’s insides.
While Clarissa spiraled into panic, Aryan went out of his way to comfort her with that painful smile.
“I’m grateful that you came by despite being so busy.”
There’s definitely something going on—there has to be.
Clarissa suffered under the weight of an unnamed frustration.
Who was it? Who crushed my kid’s spirit?!
