Chapter 25
“Why did you come out alone?”
“You heard everything.”
It was awkward to meet Francis’s piercing gaze.
Francis Patella
– Captain of the Royal Guard❤️ Affection toward Gracie Fletcher Gabriella Bastian: 42%
❤️ Affection toward Clayton de Lebois: 30%
💔 Affection toward Joshua Dayrid: –5%
💔 Affection toward Keira Fletcher Gabriella Bastian: –5%
“Have you really lost your memory?”
He spoke with a heavy tone, his lips barely moving.
“I told you already. Do I look like I’m lying?”
“Yes. Your Highness used to lie quite often.”
…Was that why Clayton told me to stay away from Francis? Pure jealousy? Or did Princess Gracie do something awful again?
“Did I… maybe do something to you?”
“……”
He noticed water dripping from my wet hair and gently wrapped it in a towel. The dampness that had been stealing away my body heat quickly faded, replaced by the soft, warm touch of the towel.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
“Did I do something wrong to you, Sir Francis?”
“……”
“You used to hate me so much you wanted to kill me, didn’t you?”
Even if I provoked him, would that alone make him want to kill his assigned guard?
Given Princess Gracie’s chaotic history, something definitely happened.
If it was just because he admired Clayton, that wouldn’t be enough to explain how he literally stabbed me! He stabbed me hard enough to kill me—I even saw the afterlife!
“If you’ve truly lost your memory… then please, don’t remember.”
His voice trembled. I was the one drenched, yet he looked like a rain-soaked puppy.
“Why not?”
“Because… if you don’t remember, maybe then Your Highness will look at me again.”
What the hell? He’s barking like an actual dog now!
“Just tell me, Sir Francis.”
Clayton’s crying inside, and now this guy looks like he’s about to cry too!
His light bluish-gray eyes, perfectly matched with his fiery red hair, shimmered like glass marbles—made even more vivid by the moisture in them. Why did I suddenly want to make him cry?
“Kiss me, please. Then I’ll tell you.”
“…Why do you want to kiss me?”
“Because I know you kissed Duke de Lebois. So… I want one too.”
He closed his tearful, red-rimmed eyes and leaned in. Our breaths mingled, and my whole body tensed.
What is wrong with these men? Are they all possessed by a kiss demon or something?!
▼ Francis Patella is a virgin. ▼
Yeah, I know!
I didn’t even press the arrow this time—it popped up by itself!
“So why do you want to kiss me?” I asked, pushing his face away when it got dangerously close.
“I don’t know.”
“If you don’t know, then you don’t really want to. You’re just curious what a kiss feels like.”
“I suppose so. So… perhaps…”
His lips parted again, and for a second I forgot what to say. His bright red lips looked too soft, probably just because of that stupid “kiss me” line.
Get a grip, girl!
He’s Keira’s man!
“Perhaps… could you—”
“Your first kiss should be with someone you love.”
Like your lady, not me!
“With someone I love…”
“Yes. Do it with the person you love. Like I did… sob…”
Suddenly I remembered my own first kiss, the one Adrian stole, and I almost cried. In my previous life, I’d never even held hands with a man, much less kissed one!
No—but Adrian was my fiancé! That makes it okay!
“I kissed my fiancé first! It’s fine!”
“Your Highness, why are you crying?”
“Tears of joy!”
My mental state was shattering. I had to stop thinking before I went insane and decided to roast my sister over a campfire.
Clayton was crying in the bath.
Francis was crying in the hallway outside.
So I ignored both of them and went straight to bed, staring up at the canopy.
The royal crest embroidered there glimmered in multicolored threads—definitely not just gold. I’d read somewhere that thread made from peacock feathers shimmered like that.
After about ten minutes of idle thoughts, I started to drift off.
Then something—whether a system glitch or a buried memory—played before my eyes like a movie.
The strange part was that everything happened in my view, as if I were the one experiencing it.
“What is this?”
My hands looked small—not the slim, elegant hands I had now, but plump, youthful fingers.
“A four-leaf clover.”
Clayton looked so young. His neatly combed hair, sharp nose, and bright, beautiful face made my heart race just by looking at him.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“When Father proposed to Mother, he did it this way.”
He ducked his head shyly—like a boy newly come of age. Every time I met his eyes, he’d glance away, then sneak another look to see if I was watching him.
So I just kept watching. Watching how flustered he became, how his face turned red from the neck up.
Our gazes met—his at me, mine at him—and I saw the flush spread down his neck.
Then I glanced at what I was holding.
“Do you want to marry me?”
“Yes.”
The answer came immediately, with conviction.
A soft wind rustled, carrying the scent of lavender that filled my chest. The ripe, blushing color of Clayton’s face went perfectly with that fragrance.
He blinked nervously, eyes glistening as if on the verge of tears.
“Clayton.”
“Yes, Gracie?”
I looked at him again, then clenched the four-leaf clover in my hand—
and sighed before throwing it to the ground.
“I told you not to do stupid things like this. Aren’t you sick of it yet?”
His icy blue eyes widened in shock—beautiful, almost heartbreakingly so—and I couldn’t look away from the tears gathering there.
He stooped to pick up the fallen clover, straightened, and said in a trembling voice,
“I’m not giving up on you.”
“……”
“Not until you accept me. I’ll never give up.”
I didn’t know who exactly that promise was for—but somehow, I felt it wasn’t meant for me alone.
I woke up suddenly and called for my attendant. I couldn’t afford to forget Joshua. Half-dazed, I sat up.
“Tell Joshua not to come back tonight.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Verdin, the attendant assigned by the Emperor, nodded and left. He was competent—he’d even cleared out all the maids since he knew Clayton was here.
That was fine.
No eyes watching. Not even my fiancé Adrian would know.
But that was exactly where the good part ended.
“Are you two trying to suffocate me!?”
“Let go, Francis Patella.”
“You should be the one to let go, Duke de Lebois.”
Francis admired Clayton, but judging by his behavior now, that admiration seemed long gone. I wanted to check the status window, but I couldn’t even raise an arm.
“How am I supposed to sleep like this!?”
“You heard her. So let go.”
“I’ll let go when you do, my lord.”
We were all lying in bed.
If we’re lying down, we should sleep, right? Comfortably. Separately.
But no—they both clung to me like static-charged magnets.
I could feel Clayton’s hard chest pressed against my back, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.
If it were just him, maybe I could’ve tolerated it—
—but Francis, for some deranged reason, had slid an arm under my neck for a pillow and was pulling me toward his chest.
So my waist was being dragged one way, and my head the other.
“Both of you, get out!”
“Let go.”
“You first, my lord!”
“You lunatics!”
It felt like I was being torn apart on the rack. My brain was losing oxygen and my back felt ready to snap.
“I’ll count to three! Anyone still holding on gets thrown out! Three! Two! One!”
“Why haven’t you let go?”
“I could ask you the same!”
Damn it all. Sleep was a lost cause tonight.
Why did I send Joshua away!?
If he were here, this insanity never would’ve happened!
