IHYWRM l CH 03

Chapter 3

Huh?

It was a laugh Adrian hadn’t heard often, even though he’d been with Charlotte since they were young.

Wondering what amused her so much, he turned to the window with a faint smile.

Charlotte was watching Noctum fumble again and again, trying to tuck the ribbon safely into his clothes.

But what Adrian saw wasn’t the peaceful scene Charlotte saw.

A moment ago Noctum had been flustered over the ribbon, yet now he was staring straight at Adrian.

His violet eyes flashed.

“…!”

For an instant, Adrian felt as if time stopped. Cold spread over his body like he’d been sealed in ice.

It wasn’t just a “feeling.” A chilly mist was coiling around him from the feet up.

He flinched; as his hand trembled, tiny ice crystals pattered onto the floor.

Ice Fog, from this distance…

It was a spell with a short range. Yet Noctum had sent it precisely at Adrian from far away.

Ha.

Terrifying skill. Adrian forced a smile as he met the grand duke’s unblinking gaze.

Goosebumps crawled up his spine, but he refused to lose to Noctum’s killing intent.

And he cast an illusion on Charlotte at the same time?

A quick glance showed Charlotte still wearing a faint smile. So his guess was right.

Ha. His Grace repays kindness with hostility, does he?

All Adrian could do was laugh. At the same time, a half-playful, half-impish idea flashed through his mind.

Pretending not to notice Noctum secretly following the carriage, he called softly,

“Charlotte.”

“…?”

This wasn’t his usual teasing grin. It was the sweet smile of a man in love.

Charlotte froze at his sudden shift and raised an eyebrow.

Meanwhile the carriage was slowing. They must be arriving at the grand duke’s mansion.

Sensing Noctum’s presence just behind them, Adrian deliberately escorted Charlotte down with extra care.

“Charlotte, aren’t you sick of living with the grand duke? He doesn’t even know the sacrifices you make.”

“What?”

What on earth was he saying?

Charlotte let out a short, disbelieving laugh.

Ignoring her reaction, Adrian kept going, shameless.

He lifted a hand and touched the cheek where she’d been hurt.

“Adri—”

“Whatever he is, I’ll be better than the grand duke. I love you most, Charlotte. I’ll be waiting for your answer.”

“No…”

Everything happened too fast. Charlotte was about to gather herself and refuse—

—but Adrian’s body suddenly flew backward and slammed into the carriage.

Thud—!

The door snapped shut though no wind stirred.

“Uh—?!”

Then, without the coachman’s command, the horses bolted off, dragging the carriage away.

For a moment Charlotte was stunned. She lifted a hand, swiped away the dust clouding her vision, and coughed. Through the haze, a tall figure appeared.

“My lady, did you have a good outing?”

A gentle voice filled her ears—the kind that melted hearts at once.

Charlotte gave a small nod as she cleared her throat. Normally she would have ignored him and walked on, but the chaos made her react on instinct.

“Coughing like that will hurt your throat.”

Pleased she’d responded, Noctum stepped closer and, hesitating, reached toward her neck.

He couldn’t heal like a cleric, but he could soothe the symptoms a little.

Still, even that was too much.

Charlotte slapped his hand away, cold and firm.

“…Don’t.”

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

He hid his pained look and stepped back so he wouldn’t frighten her.

Charlotte looked at him with trembling eyes and bit her inner lip.

I almost got caught.

He was the strongest mage on the continent. He might notice the fading traces of divine power.

She studied his face anxiously. Thankfully, distracted by her harsh words, he seemed not to notice the wound.

I have to push him away more.

No room for carelessness. To erase even the slightest doubt, she had to shake him hard.

Charlotte knew exactly what words would send him into panic.

“What do you think you’re doing? Please stop this behavior. It really disgusts me.”

“…Does it?”

“Yes. Even if we’re married, you can’t touch me as you please.”

“…”

“And honestly, calling us ‘married’ is a joke. Strangers are closer than we are.”

She let out a short, mocking laugh on purpose. The cruelty clawed at Noctum.

“Really, I’m sick of these little scenes.”

Driving the last knife in, Charlotte turned her head away. She saw his face crumble in the corner of her eye, but ignored it.

My heart…

No—she had to ignore it. Even if her chest felt shredded by her own words, even if a sudden urge to steady his staggering steps rose up—

If I go this far, he won’t cling to me anymore.

She held only that thought tight in her heart and forced herself to walk away.

In the corridor, she looked down through a window at Noctum outside. He stood motionless, head bowed in defeat.

She watched him for a while, calming herself.

Now I won’t be swayed by the hope he gives.

Truly, it couldn’t have gone better.

***

“Noctum? What are you…?”

—Or maybe that easy confidence was the problem.

That night, Charlotte was shocked to see Noctum stride into her bedroom.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His usual caution was gone.

He walked in like it was his own room. Charlotte stepped back.

He didn’t answer. He simply came closer, long strides steady.

Thunk. A chill brushed her skin through her thin shift. She’d backed into the wall.

“Get out. Even for you, this is—!”

“Charlotte Afros.”

Her rushed words turned to ash at the sound of her name. It was only her name, spoken like always, yet she couldn’t move.

Her mouth went dry for no reason. She looked up at his eyes.

He was unexpectedly calm. Not smiling at her—none of that.

Something felt off. As she glanced over his face, a strong smell hit her, and her strength left her.

“You’re drunk.”

How had she not noticed? The room reeked of alcohol.

He hated drinking. Why had he come like this?

A headache pricked; Charlotte sighed.

At that moment, Noctum’s face twisted in pain as he watched her expression.

He closed the last bit of distance in a single step and drew her into his arms.

Fast—nothing like a reclusive scholar. More like a trained knight.

“Noctum!”

Caught in his embrace, Charlotte twisted to break free. But he wasn’t like other weak magicians.

His body was strong; she couldn’t escape.

She sighed against his chest. Even drunk, he apologized properly.

“I’m sorry. I must have made things hard for you again.”

“If you know, let me go.”

“No. I won’t. I can’t let you go. Ever. I’ll never give you back to that damn marquis…”

How drunk was he?

Muttering nonsense, rubbing his face against her shoulder—this wasn’t the husband she knew.

And if he remembered all this tomorrow, she couldn’t risk comforting him too much.

“What should I do to earn your love? Charlotte, please answer me.”

“That will never happen.”

“Why?”

When he lifted his head, his face was streaked with tears. Charlotte realized she had to decide.

Two years of a fragile marriage.

All that time, she had fought hard not to fall in love with him—to avoid the pathetic end of begging like the villainess in the novel.

If she gave in now, how unfair would that be?

His love would expire in less than a year. He would drag her to the cold scaffold and then find his “true love.”

The thought of him with the heroine cooled her mind fast.

And sharp words poured out of her mouth—the kind she could no longer hold back.

“Did I have to say it plainly? I don’t like you.”

Her first blunt confession. Tears rolled down Noctum’s cheeks again.

His long hair stuck to his face in clumps.

“Wh-why don’t you like me?”

His voice shook. He looked so pitiful it hurt, but Charlotte forced herself not to waver.

“I hate your long, trailing hair. I hate that your face is prettier than a woman’s. I hate that you study magic instead of the sword, that you stay at home because of it, and that your personality is kind. I hate it all.”

“If I changed all of that… Charlotte, could you love me?”

A hint of hope flickered in his eyes. She cut it cleanly away.

“No.”

“…”

“Even if you fill yourself with everything I like.”

Staring straight into his tear-wet violet eyes, she spoke clearly—

—as if to beg him to give up.

“Because if it’s you, Noctum, I’ll hate it anyway.”

So don’t expect love from me.

She felt his arms lose strength and pushed him away.

The man who had seemed unmovable a moment ago fell back as easily as a sheet of paper.

“Get out. I hate being this close to you. I hate that we’re alone in this room. It makes my skin crawl.”

Charlotte stayed cold to the end. He watched her for a long time, then trudged to the door and took hold of the knob.

The latch clicked, but he didn’t move.

Puzzled, she turned her head. Her eyes met his.

She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. His violet gaze was full of hurt—and something sticky and deep.

“I’m not a merciful man. So.”

“…”

“I won’t grant you a divorce. Not ever.”

Charlotte smiled thinly.

“Do as you like.”

Whatever you say, we’ll end up divorced anyway—just as fate decrees.