Chapter 33…
“It’s not an order. I’m asking you as a favor.”
Clarissa barely swallowed the tension coursing through her throat.
It felt like walking a tightrope at the highest point in the world without any safety equipment.
She repeatedly crossed the line she shouldn’t and then returned, over and over.
Clarissa clasped her hands once again and pleaded earnestly.
“Please.”
“And if I refuse?”
Adria, observing Clarissa’s constantly shifting demeanor, found that he had missed the exact moment to genuinely get angry.
In fact, from some point onward, he had been seriously listening to her words.
“I’d be disappointed in His Highness, the Crown Prince.”
The gravity in her voice made one side of Adria’s lips twitch.
But it wasn’t anger—it was amusement.
“Whether you’re disappointed in me or not doesn’t hurt or itch at all.”
“But if you grant my request…”
Clarissa lightly ignored Adria’s words and continued with what she wanted to say.
Adria closed his mouth for a moment, wondering what grand statement she could possibly make, but she began another round of convoluted reasoning.
“I’m fine with counting the previous wager as my loss.”
“I already won that.”
“You didn’t specify a time limit, right? You never know what might happen.”
“Stop with the nonsense.”
“Sorry, I haven’t finished barking yet.”
Adria tried to block her convoluted arguments with reason, yet he was left speechless at how effortlessly she turned his words into nonsense.
“In any case, what I want to say is…”
He couldn’t believe it—Adria never imagined he’d find himself sympathizing with the Marquis Vestas, whom he had so disliked. He held his breath and watched her closely.
“I’m saying that I’ll disappear right before Your Highness’s eyes if you wish, crawl on the floor if you want, or even pretend to die.”
This time, Adria was surprised in an entirely different way.
For some reason, a sense of emptiness rose, accompanied by a curiosity that had briefly crossed his mind before.
Even if it’s the fiancé’s matter, is this really something worth throwing one’s own honor aside for?
For the first time, instead of forming a hypothesis in his mind, Adria asked her directly.
“…Why go this far?”
“You haven’t forgotten what my request was, have you?”
Clarissa only understood the meaning of his question after seeing the crease on his forehead.
It wasn’t a very pleasant question, but it was a positive sign.
Her lips, unusually dry today, moved slightly.
But the answer didn’t come easily.
“I….”
Adria had been right.
Why was she doing this? Clarissa asked herself.
Objectively speaking, she had already reduced the misfortune he would face.
She had also succeeded in forming a good relationship.
At this point, it wouldn’t be wrong to say she had achieved her initial goal.
If Aryan were excessively diligent, no matter what Clarissa did afterward, he wouldn’t easily ignore her.
Then hadn’t she done enough?
In the original story, he had faced death multiple times before fully maturing.
He had been poisoned, nearly drowned, and even tumbled down stairs like this time.
All of these were schemes by Velisa, hoping he would be disabled, yet fortunately or unfortunately, he survived each moment.
So perhaps this was simply another event that was meant to happen.
Aryan was, after all, the protagonist. He would overcome every trial.
Thinking that way brought a strange sense of relief.
“Yeah, this was something I did for my own convenience from the start.”
She gripped the unfamiliar fabric tightly.
From a corner of her heart, a voice echoed, saying that it was enough.
Just nodding her head would bring relief.
Then she could escape this frustrating, annoying situation.
She could return to a peaceful, carefree daily life.
“Hey.”
Clarissa finally concluded her inner dialogue and shook her head.
No matter what Adria called to her, she didn’t hear it.
Yes, it wasn’t that she didn’t have to do it—it was that she couldn’t not do it.
Today’s Clarissa, not the writer from yesterday, felt that Aryan…
was no longer just a character in a story.
She had shared conversations about the weather, enjoyed meals and tea together, laughed at small things, and checked in on each other even for minor matters.
Even if their connection was forced, it had been enjoyable.
And that was enough.
“I just want him to be happy.”
Aryan had already become a natural presence in Clarissa’s daily life.
From the depths of her long thoughts emerged her pure, genuine feelings.
Adria’s red eyes flickered strangely.
The golden sunlight shimmered brilliantly, like molten liquid.
Clarissa raised her head, guiding the two suns that seemed ready to spill down.
The blue sky, reminiscent of Aryan, looked down on her.
“Right now, in this moment, that’s what I want most.”
Aryan slowly opened his eyes after a long sleep.
It felt as if he had been dreaming for an eternity.
Yet there were no memories, only a lingering bitterness that unsettled his heart.
His blurry vision gradually cleared with time.
The autumn wind gently brushed against Aryan’s cheek.
When he turned his head toward the source of the breeze,
he saw a girl with long chestnut hair spread messily across the bed, and the dazzling sunset shone toward him.
The last moment before sleep was vague, but it didn’t matter.
Just watching her made him feel as if someone was embracing him.
As he lost himself in that moment, Clarissa stirred slightly, turning her head toward Aryan with a rustling sound.
Her golden eyes greeted him.
Soon, her face, full of Aryan, bloomed like a flower.
Her red lips moved slightly.
“…Hello.”
Aryan strained his neck to respond to Clarissa.
But he couldn’t speak a single word.
While he was flustered, Clarissa gently stopped him.
“Don’t overdo it.”
Her soft hand grasped the tips of his fingers.
The brief contact felt too fleeting, so he tried to move his fingers, but he couldn’t even do that properly.
It was his own body, yet it didn’t feel like his own.
All he could do was sigh in frustration.
Watching him quietly, Clarissa whispered.
“We haven’t seen each other in so long, and I have so much I want to say… but first, I have some good news to tell you.”
Clarissa faintly smiled.
Even Huey, not just Aryan, would know that her smile lacked the strength of before.
Looking closer, she seemed quite thin.
Just as a sharp pang struck Aryan’s chest, Clarissa spoke again.
“Aryan, you will become His Highness the Crown Prince’s Rashad.”
Thud. It felt as if a large stone had fallen onto Aryan’s head.
He only rolled his eyes to Clarissa, wondering if he had heard correctly.
“Yes, you heard correctly.”
‘Rashad’—the official companion of the Crown Prince and a title coveted by all noble heirs.
Among the many privileges, the greatest was that the Rashad could reside in the same palace as the royal family that chose him.
Clarissa smiled faintly at Aryan’s stunned expression, but Aryan could not smile.
No—in his dizzying state, he could barely keep his eyes open.
Somehow summoning unexpected strength, Aryan suddenly sat upright.
His entire body ached as if struck by a massive club, but there was no time to care.
He forced his stiff neck to move.
A metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, but he managed to speak.
“…Why.”
The voice that emerged with the same struggle as the pain he had endured over time was more of a reproach than a question.
Aryan’s blue eyes glimmered coldly.
