Chapter 35…
“That… is about that.”
Aryan looked somewhat blank at Adria’s words.
Adria, realizing she had asked an unnecessary question, regretted it, but at this point, trying to backtrack would have been ridiculous.
‘Damn it.’
Adria, who never imagined she would bring up a story about her, swallowed a string of curses in her mind.
Though she didn’t like the way it sounded, almost like a casual check-in, she decided to drop even the slightest suspicion now that things had come this far.
“It’s about that thing from the Lizette family. I noticed it clinging to you like a tail. I was worried it might chase after you day after day.”
Muttering with a forehead deeply creased, as if she didn’t even want to say the name, Adria’s expression somehow resembled Clarissa’s. Aryan, forgetting to get angry, kept his lips sealed.
“You two fought, right?”
“Ah… no.”
His shoulders shrugged as he answered, and it didn’t look ordinary.
Adria’s lips curled up in a very pleased smile.
The young man, usually looking like a puppy when his tail was touched, suddenly seemed different.
So he wasn’t as naive as he appeared, huh?
Thinking back, despite knowing that his counterpart was the Crown Prince, he had no hesitation in pushing forward what he believed in.
That had been a rare experience for Adria and also helped him accept Clarissa’s “request,” which had annoyed him.
Adria’s expression softened considerably.
Speaking to him from a slight distance, she said,
“Speak freely.”
“But—”
“I’m allowing it because it makes me uncomfortable otherwise.”
Aryan’s blue eyes trembled sharply.
But hesitation lasted only a moment; he nodded with a face that seemed to make a firm resolve.
“…Okay.”
Adria, satisfied, crossed her arms and nodded.
And with a much more relaxed heart than before, she continued the conversation they hadn’t finished.
“So, did you fight? Why? I bet it was because…”
“No.”
Worried that bad things about Clarissa might come up, Aryan hurriedly cut off the rest of Adria’s sentence.
Seeing his somewhat surprised face, Aryan clarified once more.
“It’s nothing like that.”
“Oh, really?”
Hearing that she wasn’t another victim, Adria snorted disdainfully.
Aryan chose his words carefully for a while, then replied almost as if making an excuse for himself.
“It’s not a place you can come to just because you want to…”
“You could, though, if you wanted to.”
“Huh?”
Adria snorted at Aryan’s words.
This was the girl who had already invaded the royal palace twice, something no one could easily do.
But Aryan, seemingly unaware of that, looked at Adria with a pale, shocked face.
Apparently, the reckless young lady was acting fairly meek in front of the white-haired boy.
Although Adria didn’t like this fact, it wasn’t really something to boast about as the host, so she changed the subject.
“…Never mind.”
Aryan visibly drooped, lowering his head.
Though he didn’t understand why Adria disliked Clarissa so much, he wanted to clear up the misunderstanding she had.
“I… haven’t really said this, but Clarissa isn’t the person you think she is.”
Adria’s red eyes scattered over Aryan.
Instead of denying his words, she said,
“Even if she is your fiancée, that’s no reason to take her side.”
With a soft thud, she threw a stone into the calm waters of his mind.
Aryan’s pale face instantly turned red.
Seeing his face flush like a ripe apple, Adria realized once again that she had said something unnecessary and frowned.
“Forget it. Let’s stop talking.”
She waved her hands and showed clear signs of annoyance.
Facing her irritated expression for a while, Aryan finally spoke the truth at the end of his long thoughts.
“…It’s not like that.”
“What?”
“Clarissa and I…”
He started speaking with difficulty but couldn’t say anything more.
If we can’t be fiancés or friends, then what should we be?
Since being told that Aryan would become Rashad, Clarissa had to bear the full weight of all her efforts until now.
Perhaps from relief, the moment she let her guard down, she fell ill for ten days straight.
Unable to even see Aryan off, Clarissa spent her days listlessly, like a sickle after the harvest.
“Clarissa, it’s time to get up now.”
“Mm.”
Despite Marie’s urging, Clarissa only lazed on the bed with no intention of getting up.
Yet she still gave proper responses, which frustrated Marie, making her grumble.
“This is already the 29th time I’ve said that.”
Normally, one might be scolded for counting so meticulously, but Clarissa remained lost in thought, only breathing.
Normally, one would feel relieved seeing Clarissa like this, but Marie had grown so used to it that the absence of a scolding left her feeling hollow. She let out a long sigh and sank to the floor in front of her.
She pleaded more earnestly.
“At least have something to eat while you’re lying down. You skipped breakfast… and the sun is already high.”
“Mm…”
Clarissa, without really listening to Marie, moved only her lips.
Her mind was filled entirely with the image of Aryan’s tears flowing under the sunset.
‘Did I hate him so much that he cried?’
“Then, shall I bring something simple to eat first?”
Though her mind was elsewhere, Clarissa nodded. Marie’s face brightened.
“I’ll go quickly and bring what you like the most!”
Marie ran off happily, but Clarissa remained unaware, floundering in her thoughts.
‘I did it for Aryan, yet I feel so bad.’
Even though she had done her best, the lingering bitterness left her mood downcast.
What was it that felt so unpleasant? The question suddenly arose, but the answer was easy.
‘Well, the Crown Prince did act like a total jerk…’
When she thought that far, a chill ran down her spine.
She snapped fully to attention.
As she jumped up, her teeth clicked together.
At that moment, Marie entered the room carrying a pile of delicious-looking food.
“Today’s soup turned out really well!”
“Wait.”
“Huh?”
Stopping Marie with her palm, Clarissa murmured, pale as a sheet.
“Why didn’t I think of this earlier?”
“Think of what? Oh, you don’t like soup?”
Marie’s voice, as always, didn’t reach Clarissa’s ears.
Her mind kept replaying a terrible scene.
‘The jerk Crown Prince might have luckily done what I asked…’
She imagined a horned Adria wielding a club, pressuring a crouched Aryan.
Before she could realize how absurd that was—
“I have to go.”
“Huh? Where?”
Her body moved first.
Marie panicked and tried to grab her, but she had no time.
She shouted frantically after Clarissa running off,
“Clarissa, what about your meal!”
The lively sounds of music echoed throughout the lavish hall.
Like every noble’s banquet, this place was filled with wealth, desire, love, and anger. The young and beautiful Countess of the Mathius family made her entrance.
The Marmande Marchioness, who hosted the banquet, usually wouldn’t even acknowledge her, but approached and acted as if she knew her.
“Countess Mathius.”
Her golden hair waved like ripples, and her violet dress fluttered like blossoming petals.
Like a picture-perfect image, Bellisa’s grace drew small gasps even from men beside their partners.
Though Marmande Marchioness secretly judged her elegance as pretentious, outwardly she greeted her as if with a close friend.
“I heard your eldest son became the Rashad of His Highness, the Crown Prince?”
