Chapter 33
Cynthia, staring blankly at that smile for a moment, asked him softly,
“Aren’t you going to call my name, too?”
At that, he frowned.
“I’m still mulling it over, so don’t interrupt.”
“Mulling over what? The fact that I called your name? Pervert.”
“I don’t think a woman who kissed her fiancé on the cheek while he was asleep has any right to say that.”
“Which is more perverted, a woman who kisses her sleeping fiancé on the cheek, or a man who spends forever savoring the fact that she called his name? Why don’t we ask a random passerby?”
“Who said I’d savor it forever? I’ll only do it sometimes.”
“You mean you’re going to keep savoring it? You’re really a pervert, huh.”
His affection had gone up, but this reaction was a bit much.
Cynthia glanced at him, uneasy, and then gave up and focused on her now-cooling meal. It was more reasonable to put something in her mouth than to get into a war of words with Segleninde.
After a long silence, Segleninde randomly threw his gaze elsewhere, then spoke awkwardly.
“…Cynthia.”
“Yeah?”
“Was that enough?”
And then he furrowed his brows, as if embarrassed by doing something for the first time in his life.
A cold, prickling sensation swept through Cynthia’s chest. Her heart beat faster, and whenever their eyes met, the hands gripping her fork and knife trembled slightly.
Maybe it was because that handsome face, unable to even meet her eyes, was so close in front of her. It felt like something was stuck in her throat.
Was she actually getting flustered just because he’d called her name with that beautiful voice? Cynthia let out a hollow laugh for no reason.
All of a sudden, she felt full, like she couldn’t eat any more. Putting down her fork and knife, she said to him quietly,
“Instead of Cynthia, just call me ‘Sia’. Everyone I was close to called me that.”
“…Did I, too?”
“I’m not telling. All you do is interrupt me while I’m eating.”
“What… How selfish.”
Segleninde grumbled, not looking satisfied. But the mood was definitely much softer than before.
Cynthia took the opportunity to ask,
“What do you think I used to call you?”
“Well, since we’re engaged, I suppose you called me by something familiar.”
Though he spoke indifferently, he must have been curious, because he snuck a sideways glance at her and asked,
“So? What did you call me?”
Cynthia smiled brightly before answering. Wasn’t ‘Segleninde’ a bit too long to say all the time? This was her chance to shorten it. The perfect nickname came to mind.
“I called you ‘Sellie’!”
“…What?”
Segleninde looked appalled—a look you’d never expect from the final boss of a horror game, someone who could tear people limb from limb with his bare hands.
“Are you crazy?”
“What, did you just call your fiancée crazy?”
“You mean you really called me by a nickname that childish? That’s ridiculous! Just say you’re lying! Don’t tell me before I lost my memories, I used to like being called that and smiled stupidly!”
“So what if you did? Oh, you said you wanted your memories back, right! Then you have to accept even the parts of yourself you didn’t want! Go on, accept it!”
“No! You should be the one to accept that neither you nor I would want to be called something like that! I’ll kill you!”
“Oh my, threatening to kill your fiancée? Are you really a fiancé, or a thug? If I hadn’t said your face and hair were nice earlier, I’d already be dead, huh? If we got married, you’d be an abusive husband for sure!”
Their conversation inevitably devolved into a quarrel. The two chefs, standing respectfully at the back of the dining room, flinched every time their voices rose.
But when Cynthia mentioned ‘husband’, Segleninde suddenly paused, then pressed his lips together, as if trying to hold back a smile.
“…Marriage. That’s right. If we’re engaged, we should get married, too.”
“….”
Cynthia felt her mood sour.
Maybe she should have just tossed him to the Ghost Rats as bait after all. Even if the increased affection had an effect, it was working too well.
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