Chapter – 33….
Young Lady Yeong-ae, all prim and proper, clasped her cold, tense hands together and smiled.
Though her lips twitched with the strain, she forced the beautiful smile she had practiced in front of the mirror until it bled, keeping her posture as uncomfortable as possible so that her hips were twisted in a way that would appear elegant.
“Thank you ever so much for coming… I am truly honored…”
Yeong-ae didn’t know how to make the Crown Prince’s heart flutter, but she did her very best.
After all, they didn’t know each other. They had never exchanged even a single word.
In such a case, what could she rely on to leave a good impression on him but her appearance?
Some might say:
Judging someone by their looks is a lowly act.
But that only applies when one is ignoring someone based on appearance, not simply forming an impression.
If not by appearance, by what else could you determine your first impression of someone you’ve never met?
Even if someone’s clothes are humble, neat and clean attire and proper manners can convey respect.
Who enjoys discomfort on their own?
Yet Yeong-ae endured the twitching of her lips and the twisting of her body.
She wanted to win the Crown Prince’s favor.
Doing her utmost was akin to announcing to him:
“See how much I am thinking of you.”
“This garden is designed to allow those who view it to feel refined beauty…”
Despite her heartfelt explanation, the Crown Prince didn’t utter a single word.
He seemed to appraise her rather than the garden, examining her with a detached, almost bored gaze.
Her gaze never left him, her face twisted unnaturally to appear beautiful, and her body trembled.
Even someone completely oblivious would notice the unmistakable attention.
Contrary to rumors that the Crown Prince was slow-witted, there was no way he didn’t notice.
He laughed brightly and spoke openly:
“Yeong-ae, you look far too uncomfortable.”
“Huh? No, not at all.”
Yeong-ae, keeping her smile, tried to hide her embarrassment as he continued:
“Standing like that, isn’t your back twisted? And your lips… they seem to be twitching.”
“I-I apologize…”
Her cheeks burned with mortification as she covered her face.
Someone with manners would never openly point out such obvious signs of effort, no matter how hard the other tried.
That, after all, was what was called ‘manners’ but read as ‘consideration.’
But standing before her—the betrothed woman who had been broken off—was the Crown Prince, who believed such formalities were mere hollow rituals to be discarded.
He unleashed words harsher than ever before.
“Well, the Empress holds a higher position than the Grand Princess Consort, after all.”
Even a monkey would blush from shame at the sheer cruelty of those words.
Naturally, Yeong-ae’s face turned a deep crimson, and the Crown Prince poured on more insult.
“I understand the desire, but seeing such blatant greed already tires me.”
With the same cheerful expression he had upon arrival, he ruthlessly annihilated Yeong-ae’s painstaking efforts to appear appealing.
“There’s nothing more to see, is there?”
He left without further notice, just as he had come.
Yeong-ae fixed her gaze on the shadow he cast on the ground, rather than his departing figure, her own shadow darker than his.
Meanwhile, as the Crown Prince was mercilessly spilling venom upon the abandoned Yeong-ae,
Ludwig walked slowly, hand in hand with Asili.
Asili had suddenly returned to the palace and immediately entered the office.
She had always kept her distance while he worked, not wanting to interrupt.
“Asili?”
Ludwig opened his mouth to ask if she was hurt, but Asili stretched out her hand.
Suddenly, his vision went dark, yet he didn’t pull his hand away, calling her again.
“Asili?”
“Close your eyes.”
“All right.”
Without asking why, Ludwig closed his eyes. Asili quietly covered them with a soft cloth.
“From now on, you’re coming somewhere with me. Even if the blindfold slips, don’t open your eyes.”
After some time walking, Ludwig felt the cold but soft pressure of her small hand in his, sensing her nervousness but unsure why.
When the faint scent of wildflowers became overwhelmingly present,
Asili stopped, tiptoed, and removed the soft cloth covering Ludwig’s eyes.
“Not yet. Don’t open them yet.”
She took a deep breath, several times, before finally speaking as she held his hand tightly:
“Now, you can open your eyes.”
Slowly lifting his eyelids, light poured in.
The first thing that struck his blurry vision was her.
Asili.
Her red hair swayed gently with the wind, and her eyes, clearer than the bluest sky, met his.
She seemed tense, tugging lightly at his fingertips.
“Is… it time?”
Only then did Ludwig’s gaze widen, taking in the garden around her.
It wasn’t a garden with vibrant flowers or intricate sculptures.
Just the fresh smell of grass and the shade cast by towering trees, forming ever-changing patterns.
“I said I was going to tend the garden, but I restored it. Not perfectly, but close enough to the old appearance.”
Her words drifted away as her attention jumped elsewhere.
“You said it was like a jungle, yet in just a few hours, like magic, it’s transformed.”
Asili marveled at the seemingly endless palace workforce and inexhaustible resources.
It wasn’t just that it happened quickly; it was flawless.
The instructions were clear, the blueprint precise, and once given, rarely altered.
But even so, to complete everything perfectly without a single mishap…
“Well… the trees have grown over ten years, but still…”
Unable to keep her hands still, she rambled, worried she had overstepped by showing him a memory she wanted to preserve alone.
She had done her utmost for just one person.
When working, she only wished for that person’s happiness, but now that Ludwig saw the garden, she felt an unexpected anxiety.
Had she done something pointless? Had she thrust a cherished memory before him selfishly?
Ludwig remained silent, lost in the garden’s quiet.
The rustle of leaves mingled with the wind, lingering in the ears before fading.
Then, as if in a mirage, the past flickered before him.
The memory was fleeting, barely there.
But even that—its scent brushing his nose for a moment—was enough.
Ludwig felt a pain in his chest, a swelling emotion he could hardly describe.
Just as Asili opened her mouth, he pulled her close.
No words. No eye contact.
He simply held her hand and wrapped his arms around her waist.
Asili’s eyes opened wide.
His slow, quiet breathing brushed her ear like gentle ripples.
She clung to him with all her strength.
He did not cry.
His shoulders did not shake, no suppressed sobs whispered in her ear.
He simply held her.
So tightly it seemed he feared she would vanish, just as in that fleeting childhood memory.
Through his ear, Asili’s voice whispered:
“I’m here.”
What more could be said?
Ludwig.
Duke Ludwig Caliente.
I never thought I truly knew you.
You were someone whose name I didn’t know, someone I might never meet if not in a dream.
I had no room to indulge curiosity.
Even after learning you existed in a novel, I never looked for it.
Had I read it, I might have learned everything—your past, your regrets, your desires.
But I didn’t wish to.
Because even just the you in front of me was enough.
That alone allowed me to presume I knew you.
“Stop smiling like that.”
“It’s a habit.”
“Such a strange habit!”
Frowning, you smiled.
“Failed again.”
“Was it sloppy?”
“Probably. It was bothersome.”
“Ha!”
“Don’t laugh! This is no time for it!”
The face of the villain in the book, the ultimate black hand, so dry and cruel—
Before me, you hid nothing.
Who else could have seen you, truly?
MADDENING, I SAY!