Chapter 13
I never had a father from the moment I was born.
All I ever heard about him were fragmented bits of information, which could be summed up in a single line:
“Your dad was trash.”
“Oh…”
At my mom’s words, I couldn’t say anything, only rolled my eyes around.
My mom, with her short blond hair and boyish smile, smeared strawberry jam thickly over a piece of bread.
“I must have been crazy. The one time I really lost my mind in my life was when I met your father.”
Whenever I heard things like that, it felt strange.
Not just because she was my mom, but because she was really capable and smart.
So how had she ended up meeting such trash and having me with him?
Tilting my head, I asked:
“But then, why did you love him? Didn’t you know he was trash?”
“It’s a common mistake smart women make. A man who’s cold and blunt is suddenly gentle only toward me, he softens—so you start to believe you’re special to him, and that you can change him.”
Up to there, my mom spoke with energy, but then a shadow of sadness crossed her face. She murmured softly:
“I never thought he wouldn’t change even after you came along.”
“…”
That one line explained why she had turned her back on him, even while carrying me in her belly.
I too grew solemn, lowering my head. Then my mom smiled brightly again.
“I don’t regret it. Thanks to him, I got a daughter as pretty as you. I only feel sorry toward you.”
“I’m fine too.”
I hugged her tightly. Laughing together, she smiled gently.
“A much, much better man will come into my daughter’s life someday.”
Well, looking back now, everything she said turned out to be true—like a prophecy.
‘Ah, why am I suddenly remembering the past?’
Without realizing it, I must have dozed off in the carriage. Scratching my head awkwardly, I slumped back into my seat.
It had been a while since I dreamed of my mother.
‘It’s all because of Princess Vanerinne. Meeting her brought all those old memories back.’
Snapping out of my daze, I slapped my cheeks with both palms.
‘I need to stay sharp. If I space out now, I won’t be able to do anything.’
Once I had braced myself again, my gaze naturally fell on the man sitting across from me.
Maybe it was because I remembered my mother calling my father trash, but this time I took in Cerulean’s every detail.
‘Cerulean is handsome, capable, powerful—a perfect man. But…’
He still felt a little distant from the kind of “great love” my mom had once spoken of.
‘But maybe because I keep seeing him… he looks kind of cute, too.’
As I was thinking that, Cerulean, who’d been looking out the window, slowly turned his head to face me.
In the dim carriage, his eyes glowed like dark stars.
He looked at me, and I looked at him.
An odd silence filled the carriage.
And all I could think was:
‘He really is beautiful.’
With his pale golden lashes and blue eyes, he looked like a porcelain doll.
‘But why does he also look so strangely familiar?’
What could he be thinking, staring at me like that?
Fortunately, before the silence grew unbearable, the carriage arrived at my house.
Cerulean stepped out first, then extended his hand to me.
“Ah, thank you.”
That was when it happened.
As he helped me down, he suddenly pulled me behind his back, scanning our surroundings sharply.
A black shadow flickered and vanished in the direction he was watching.
‘A stray cat?’
In crowded neighborhoods, strays weren’t unusual. Shrugging, I tried to let go of his hand and head home.
“Well, I’ll go inside now—huh?”
But instead of letting me go, Cerulean tightened his grip.
Puzzled, I looked up at him. His icy blue eyes fixed on mine as he asked,
“When you go inside… what will you do next?”
“Eh? Oh, well…”
‘I was going to write up that newspaper article we agreed on.’
And not just any article—a very spicy one. Something like: “Cerulean Luke, in a romance with a beautiful Cinderella!”
‘But it feels embarrassing to say that to his face…’
Knowing him, he’d just deny it firmly, saying it wasn’t a romance at all.
‘Still… sending it off without checking with him feels a bit wrong, too.’
While I wavered, Cerulean spoke again without loosening his grip.
“If you have no plans, may I stay at your estate for a while?”
“Ah, but isn’t it too late at night?”
Sure enough, outside it was pitch-dark. Time for washing up and sleeping.
‘You must be tired too. Just go home and rest!’
That was the message I tried to send him with my eyes. But Cerulean replied with his usual serious tone:
“Then I’ll just sit in the garden for a bit before leaving.”
“…Fine. At least have a cup of tea before you go.”
I didn’t know why he suddenly wanted to come inside, but he surely had a reason.
And I trusted his character. Still, one concern nagged me.
“Will you be all right coming inside? Last time you nearly stumbled just walking through the doorway.”
He answered calmly,
“It’s fine. I’ve gotten more used to it.”
‘Used to it, huh… so it’s really that bad.’
Even though I’d expected a cold answer, it still stung.
I lowered my head to hide the urge to sniff at my own scent.
‘Next time, I should wear perfume.’
But at that moment, he said,
“That won’t be necessary.”
“…What?”
“You were thinking of covering it up, weren’t you?”
“Gasp! How did you know?”
Had I said it out loud without realizing?
Paling, I bit my lip, and Cerulean answered without a trace of a smile.
“It’s my problem, not yours. Perfume will only make it worse—its stimulation could dizzy me even more.”
“R-really?”
It sounded plausible, but I wasn’t convinced.
‘Not my problem? But clearly I’m the trigger. With others he’s fine, but with me, he gets dizzy.’
Still, if he said it was fine, it must be fine. I nodded.
“All right, then please, come in.”
At my permission, Cerulean immediately took the yellow sapphire box I’d been carrying and gestured politely for me to go first.
‘Always so proper…’
I walked up and opened the door, worrying he might stumble again. But this time, he stepped inside without hesitation.
“Let’s go in.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I told you—I’ve adjusted.”
He frowned lightly, not in annoyance but as if weighing his words. Then he added:
“And it’s not that your scent is unpleasant. It’s… very alluring. That’s why I have to be careful.”
At that, my face flushed red.
‘Why does he say things that make my heart race like that? Does he even know what “alluring” means?’
Someday I’d have to warn him not to use such dangerous words so casually.
With that thought, I led him into the house. He followed a step behind.
I tapped the dining table in the middle of the room.
“So, why exactly are you here…?”
Instead of answering, he set the box on the table. Under the lamplight, I noticed faint shadows under his eyes.
Without thinking, I reached out a finger.
“Do you have insomnia?”
Cerulean avoided my touch with a slight shake of his head. Embarrassed, I pulled my hand back.
“You just looked tired, that’s all. Sorry if I startled you.”
At my words, his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He turned his head away.
“…Yes. I think I’ll be restless tonight.”
Why say it in future tense?
In any case, I couldn’t stand the thought of his handsome face being marred by exhaustion.
Concerned, I stepped closer.
“I know a really good treatment for insomnia. Will you trust me and let me help?”
At the sudden nearness, Cerulean backed away slightly, answering curtly,
“I can go without sleep for a few days. It doesn’t matter.”
“No way! Nobody can do that!”
I tugged his arm toward the long sofa by the window.
“Here, lie down. While I draft my article, you can at least close your eyes for a bit.”
“…Lie down?”
He looked at me like I’d suggested something absurd. I shrugged.
“Yes. Since you came all the way here, rest before you go. Should I sing you a lullaby?”
“That’s…”
“Come on. This is my favorite sofa, but I’ll lend it to you.”
Looking awkward, Cerulean nevertheless removed his coat and lay down.
The sofa fit me perfectly, but for him it was small, so he had to fold his legs.
I even covered him with my cherished blanket. But on him, it looked ridiculously small—like a baby’s quilt.
‘Like a giant visiting Lilliput…’
Seeing him under the yellow blanket made him look oddly cute.
His reluctant expression softened as he blinked slowly.
“This blanket… smells sweet.”
“Really? I don’t notice anything.”
What kind of sweet smell was he talking about? Sniffing curiously, I heard him mutter dryly,
“The sofa’s too narrow for me.”
“…Couldn’t you at least say it’s cozy?”
“I’m not the type to lie.”
Well, true enough. I couldn’t imagine Cerulean saying empty compliments.
“Close your eyes and count to 100. If you’re still awake, I’ll get you warm milk with honey.”
“…”
Leaving him settled there, I felt more motivated to write my scandal article.
‘At least I can describe my fiancé’s looks in vivid detail.’
I sat at the table, pen scratching across paper.
From the sofa, Cerulean watched me intently.
“Will you sit there?”
“Yes. The house is small, there’s no separate desk. Why? Can’t sleep with me here? Do you want the bedroom instead?”
Maybe he was the type who couldn’t sleep around others. Should I lend him my bed?
‘But I’m not ready to show him my bedroom yet… Or maybe I should, since we’re basically engaged…’
I hesitated, but Cerulean shook his head firmly.
“No. Stay there. Please.”
Since he insisted, I stayed.
‘He doesn’t lie, so he must really mean it.’
I bent over my writing again, while his gaze lingered long and deep on my profile.
At first, Cerulean had no intention of entering her house.
But when Edel didn’t reject him, he felt relieved.
‘We’ve already spent too much time together.’
The more time he spent with her, the more his lost senses sharpened.
Before, they would fade again once he turned away—but now they were becoming harder to forget.
As if he were slowly becoming addicted.
But once they arrived at her home, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
‘…That was definitely Roa.’
It had only been for a moment—someone had fled in surprise when they saw him.
But there was no mistaking it.
As a Roa hunter, he could never fail to recognize one.
