Chapter 70
Throughout the entire opera, Layla couldn’t shake off a lingering sense of discomfort.
The fact that Sonet truly had a mistress… it felt strange, even to her own mind. And yet, in a way, it also made sense—strangely enough.
Well, that would explain why he had proposed to her after barely meeting her a few times.
As she thought about that, Layla recalled her former self—someone who had given her whole heart to a man she had hardly met, promising a future together and even getting engaged.
Back then, she hadn’t been in love so much as desperate.
In her previous life, Layla had lived with the constant fear that she might die at any moment. She didn’t want to die, and to survive, she had to avoid offending the people of the count’s family.
That was why she had studied until she coughed up blood, cramming knowledge into her head—just so people would be willing to converse with her.
But no matter how much she studied, how hard she worked, and how well she hid her pain, nobody cared. In fact, they only looked down on her even more.
She had even pretended not to notice when her partner cheated—too afraid that he might leave her.
At the time, her feelings had been genuine. She couldn’t be sure now if it had truly been love, but back then, she believed it was. Perhaps deep down, she was simply the type to fall in love too easily.
And maybe… maybe that was why she was so ready to believe the worst about Sonet.
“Where are you going?”
Around the midpoint of the opera, Layla rose from her seat first.
“I’ve finished my drink. I’ll go get more.”
“Have a servant do it,” Anasis said, looking at her.
Layla just smiled brightly and shook her head, then left.
She headed to the cabinet where the drinks were kept, took out a bottle, and stepped outside.
Then she made her way in the direction where Sonet and that mysterious woman had gone.
Since Sonet was also hiding his identity, he would have been seated in the VVIP section. There were only two VVIP boxes in total—one was occupied by Layla’s party, so the other could only be the one right next door. The neighboring VIP boxes were arranged so people could see into the one beside them.
Layla quietly approached the other VVIP box, but an usher standing guard stopped her.
“May I see your ticket, please?”
The seats inside were already occupied, so the two ushers assumed Layla had come to the wrong place.
They didn’t know her in detail, but seeing her pink hair and sky-blue eyes, they guessed she was part of the crown prince’s group in the opposite box.
After all, the staff had been specially trained for three hours before opening today, just because of the news that the crown prince would be attending.
“Here,” Layla said, showing her ticket.
As expected, the ushers smiled politely.
“I think you may have the wrong seat. Would you like me to escort you to your box?”
That was a problem. Layla wanted to peek inside.
—Snap!
At that moment, the ushers’ expressions went blank.
Layla turned toward the sound.
“Playing at being a stray cat, are we?”
Raynier was standing there.
“How did you do that?”
“If I tell you, will you break off your engagement?”
“If I do, you’ll tell me?”
“Of course. If you break it off, I’ll answer any question you ask.”
Layla hesitated for a moment at his smile as he approached, but she still couldn’t bring herself to fully trust him.
He claimed he didn’t like her, yet his actions constantly confused her. He enjoyed kissing her, so why deny having feelings?
Maybe it really was just revenge against Sonet. If that was the case, once he got what he wanted, he wouldn’t spare her a glance—let alone help her.
“I’ll pass,” she said flatly.
She brushed past and opened the door. The ushers just stood there, staring blankly into space, not even noticing.
Layla strode in confidently, weaving past them.
Near the VVIP box, she slipped off her shoes, holding them in one hand and the bottle of rum in the other.
Following her, wearing a faintly amused expression that wasn’t quite a smile, was Raynier.
“Ah…”
“What now?”
“I… I got something in my eye. Could you help me get it out?”
“If you just wait, it’ll come out on its own. Why bother?” Sonet’s voice carried a hint of impatience.
“Please? It really hurts.”
The woman with him turned toward Sonet. With a sigh, he leaned in and blew sharply into her eye.
She immediately brightened, smiling foolishly.
“Thank you.”
“Watch the opera. You said you wanted to see it so badly.”
“Yes. I’m so happy. Even more so because we came together.”
Her gentle tone and manner of speaking struck Layla—she really did sound a lot like her. Exactly like the voice Layla used when she was acting.
Maybe Sonet’s supposed infatuation with her back then had actually been an act… aimed at this mistress instead.
Her grip loosened without realizing it.
—Crash!
The rum bottle hit the floor and shattered.
Raynier’s focus broke immediately—he diverted all his attention to keeping Layla from getting hurt, making the glass shards fly harmlessly away. But in doing so, the magic hiding his presence was momentarily lifted.
“Who’s there?!”
“Ah…”
Layla thought about running, but with the floor covered in glass, she had to put her shoes back on first.
Just as she was about to move—
“Layla?”
She froze. Sonet had seen her.
“Ah… Sonet. I… um… I was trying to go to the other VVIP box…”
“…Layla.”
“But I came here by mistake. Sorry.”
She tried to keep his attention on her so he wouldn’t notice Raynier.
“You were following me?”
“…No, it was really just an accident.”
Sweating, Layla tried to back away. She could feel the crunch of rum-soaked glass beneath her shoes, making her tense all over.
“More importantly, who is she, Sonet?”
“Layla… not only do you follow me, but now you’re interrogating my guest?”
His cold voice made her falter.
“I just… I’m your fiancée, so I was curious who you were with…”
“Still—following me? I’m disappointed in you, Layla.”
“Sonet, I—”
“Leave.”
“That’s rather harsh,” a voice cut in.
Despite Layla’s effort to hide him, Raynier stepped forward, unconcerned, revealing himself.
“You…”
Sonet stiffened when he saw Raynier emerging from the shadows. Every time their eyes met, an inexplicable chill ran down his spine, his body shrinking instinctively. It was the feeling of prey caught in the gaze of something above humans—a higher predator.
“What are you doing here…?”
“Do you know me?” Raynier asked with a smile.
“How can a commoner afford such a high-class opera?” Sonet regained his composure.
“I’m no commoner. And you, a mere marquis’s son, are speaking rather rudely to the crown prince.”
“Crown prince?”
“Fernando of the Kingdom of Rutenberg.”
At that, the rumors Sonet had heard came rushing back—black hair, red eyes, and a mask to hide a face less handsome than expected. A man whose tastes crossed gender lines, with a preference for men more than women.
The moment he realized this, his hostility cooled. When he thought it was Raynier, his hatred had drowned out his fear—but a crown prince was another matter.
“We came here because I suggested visiting the other VVIP box,” Raynier said, placing a hand on Layla’s shoulder.
“My apologies. We’ll be going back to our seats.”
“You came together?” Sonet asked, but Raynier didn’t answer.
“Layla, you went to the opera with another man without my permission?”
“It wasn’t just us. His Highness and Lady Anasis were there too.”
“…I see.”
Sonet’s tone eased again.
“What’s going on?” the woman asked.
“Stay inside. I’ll be right back.”
The moment the woman clinging to Sonet met Layla’s eyes, she smiled brightly. Even in the dim light, Layla noticed they had the same eye color.
“Sonet, that woman—”
“I don’t want to explain right now. Later.”
With a sigh, he let the woman pull him back into the VVIP box.
Raynier took Layla’s hand and led her outside. By the time they returned toward their own box, the ushers seemed to have regained their senses.
Now alone in the hallway, Raynier said to her—
“There are plenty of men in the world.”
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
He answered without hesitation.
“It means there are men out there who wouldn’t hurt you, who wouldn’t treat you like this. Men who might value you more than their own lives.”
Layla couldn’t speak. Rationally, she knew he probably didn’t mean himself—but her heart seemed to take it that way.
