YWPWYLFDM 68

Chapter 68

And there, left all alone, Winfred let out a hollow, deflating laugh.

‘Even if she wanted to follow, she could… right?’

Sure enough, just as expected, Aila had probably climbed onto the rooftops again. Clearly, she didn’t know that ordinary people don’t fly across rooftops.

As Winfred had predicted, Aila glanced once at the fountain square where he still stood before hurrying back toward the café.

Truthfully, when she had overheard Byron and Cloud talking about the existence of the curse, she had thought it might have been better not to know at all.

Ignorance would have been bliss. Then she wouldn’t have felt this fear or pain.

But now, she thought differently.

Had she not known about the curse, when she met Winfred today, she would have instinctively followed him—and might have lost her life without even understanding why.

Retracing her steps swiftly, Aila returned to the café, opening the window casually as she stepped back into her room.

It seemed she had faithfully followed Gerald’s instructions not to come until called; there were no signs that anyone had entered while she was out.

Gerald was still asleep, just as he had been hours ago.

‘…Thanks to that scolding, at least I had some fun today.’

Still, what Gerald had intended to do was too outrageous to let slide as something cute.

If she made an issue of it, things would only get complicated, so she quietly returned the remaining money to her coat. She hadn’t used much, so the weight difference was negligible.

Just as she was organizing her pockets, she found something in her hand—it was the trinkets she had bought at the souvenir shop where she met Winfred.

‘Ah, I didn’t give this to him.’

For her parents, she could give them later in person, but Winfred was right in front of her, so she could give it immediately.

‘No, he didn’t give me what he bought either. I can’t go first.’

Feeling as if she would be at a disadvantage otherwise, she carefully placed today’s purchases in her secret box.

By now, Gerald would soon be waking up.

Thinking this, Aila took a bite of chocolate cake with her fork. Having had fun earlier, it tasted absolutely divine.

Meanwhile, Gerald, who had been drinking the fruit tea that had gone cold while she was out, stirred and groaned.

“Ugh…”

The sedative had finally worn off, and after hours of sleeping in an awkward position, it was no surprise that he ached and felt stiff.

But Aila ignored him entirely, focusing on eating her cake.

After all, it had been Gerald himself who put the sleeping potion in her mouth. There was absolutely no reason for her to help such a fool.

‘This café really does make good cake.’

As Aila rated the taste generously, Gerald finally sat up, fully awake.

“Hey, you…! This was your doing!”

That was the first thing he said upon standing—likely meaning, ‘Did you switch the cups?’—but it was an utterly ridiculous question.

This situation had arisen precisely because Gerald himself had schemed such mischief.

‘And now he wants to blame me for it?’

Impossible.

“What are you talking about? What did I scheme? You suddenly fell asleep, and I was bored all alone.”

She shrugged it off, pointing out that it was rude of him to have fun together first and then accuse her.

Even if Aila pretended not to know, what could he do? If he wanted to make an issue of it, he’d have to confess that he had drugged her to make her sleep.

If this became known, the one who would truly suffer wouldn’t be her—it would be Gerald.

No one knew what Aila did while he was asleep, but his misdeeds had clear evidence and witnesses.

“…You really!”

“Time’s up. The knights will be back soon. Aren’t you leaving?”

Aila gracefully set down her fork without a sound and gazed at him intently.

Her message was clear: If you tell anyone about today, you’re the one who will lose, not me.

Whether he fully understood, Gerald’s face reddened with frustration as he silently put on his coat.

He was probably scared of being scolded by his father.

As he left the room, muttering what he thought was his final jab, he grumbled:

“Acting all high and mighty despite being so lowly…”

“….”

Lowly, huh? He had apparently heard that Aila was not Byron’s biological daughter. So he looked down on her due to her lower status.

‘Sorry, I’m not “lowly,” you see.’

Even using status to judge people was absurd and unpleasant, but the real flaw in his logic was that Aila’s status was actually far higher.

With a look that said, What a ridiculous person, she followed him out.

After Aila left, Winfred stood dazedly, staring in the direction she had disappeared.

Once again, she had appeared like a dream and vanished like one. What kind of elusive friend was she? He felt almost haunted.

As he stood there, lost in thought, Joseph, who had been keeping watch at a distance, quietly approached.

“…Who exactly is she, Your Highness?”

It was unlikely the foreign prince had a local friend. If she were someone he knew from the Peles Empire, Joseph, who had been with Winfred since he could walk, would recognize her.

But this mysterious girl was clearly a stranger.

Moreover, the way they had interacted—laughing, crying, disappointing each other, and laughing again—didn’t seem like a mere acquaintance of a day or two.

“Secret.”

Winfred, perhaps aware of Joseph’s curiosity, simply said this and closed his mouth.

For someone usually so talkative, this was unusual.

“Your Highness, are you going to sulk?”

“Sulking or not, it’s your choice.”

The steward pouted, but Winfred completely ignored him.

With a slightly irritating air, he headed toward the carriage, suggesting they return to their lodgings.

“Your Highness!”

Joseph called out, full of disappointment, but Winfred replied, scratching his ear:

“I’m not Your Highness, I’m the Young Master. What would people think if they heard that?”

As Joseph followed the young prince sadly, thinking he was becoming cunning like His Majesty, Winfred got into the carriage and fell into thought.

‘…How should I tell them about this?’

Since Aila had asked him to inform the duke and duchess, he would have to. But it was a huge matter, and he was already worried.

‘…Things are getting bigger. Should I tell Father as well?’

It concerned treason, after all—could he really stay silent?

Recalling his conversation with Aila, Winfred buried his face in the carriage seat, frustrated and angry.

Why had he been born as the nephew of such a heinous person?

Not only had he tried to kill his biological father himself, but now he wanted to use a child to kill that child’s own father. A truly unparalleled villain.

‘Still… Aila said she doesn’t hate me.’

Recalling Aila’s comforting words, Winfred couldn’t help but pound the seat in exasperation. Perhaps her personality was as angelic as her appearance, her heart as pure as silk.

‘Anyway… today, she really was beautiful, Aila.’

After a while, he relaxed, leaning back and staring at the carriage ceiling, as if Aila’s face were painted there.

Though he regretted not seeing her hair shining in the moonlight due to her hat, just seeing her face made him happy.

He noted how much she had grown. Previously, he had had to look down to meet her eyes, but now their heights were closer, and his neck didn’t ache as much.

Considering how much he himself had grown, it had been an extraordinary growth spurt.

Winfred’s solo musings ended with a grin, thinking of Aila, while his sole audience, Joseph, watched in bewilderment.

“…I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, Ophelia. I didn’t want to stress you, especially while you’re carrying a child.”

Rodrick confessed the secrets he had hidden, wearing a solemn expression.

He explained that a child resembling Aila had been seen at the checkpoint, that the child had called Byron “father,” and speculated that Cloud Air had likely taught the child swordsmanship.

After listening quietly, Ophelia responded calmly:

“I understand. It wasn’t done with bad intentions—it was because of my concerns. Let’s stop now. My legs are getting stiff.”

Rodrick had been kneeling before her the entire conversation.

“…Ophelia.”

Looking at his wife’s calmer face than he had feared, he still remained kneeling.