Chapter 139
The man seemed to be having a terrible nightmare. The sheets were horribly tangled and wrinkled, and the defined muscles beneath his pajamas, damp with cold sweat, moved with every strained breath. His trembling eyelids fluttered open. Letting out a sound that was almost a scream, the man shot upright in bed and roughly rubbed his face with a ragged breath.
“Huff… huff… huff…”
It was truly a terrible nightmare.
“Your Highness. Are you all right?”
“……”
The shadow guards who always protected the Crown Prince’s side had appeared like smoke before he even realized it and were checking on him. Ovid waved them away with a rough motion of his hand. It was a command for them to leave. As soon as they received the order, the guards vanished like ghosts, leaving him alone in the room.
Ovid placed a hand over his chest. His strong, perfectly healthy heart was pounding violently, as though he had seen something truly terrifying. His face twisted fiercely. To simply dismiss it as nothing more than a dream, a nightmare…
“What on earth is this? Why do I keep having these dreams?”
The face of the woman drenched in sorrow before his eyes was vivid.
A tear rolling down her cheek. The silver-haired woman lying on his lap, breathing slowly.
And that heartbreaking pain in her eyes as she looked at him with desperate hope, telling him not to be kind to her.
Ovid clenched his fist tightly. An unbearable despair and self-mockery pierced his heart.
Just then, he stopped breathing and turned his head. In a heavy voice, he said:
“What is it?”
“Your Highness.”
The guard who had withdrawn appeared beside him. Looking deeply apologetic, he held something out. It meant that what he had ordered had arrived, and the traces of sleep still lingering in Ovid’s gray eyes flashed fiercely.
“I see…”
A vivid jealousy and displeasure boiled within him. It had been like this even in his dreams. The foolish version of himself in those dreams had been unable to do anything. He remembered the side profile of that woman smiling as she received a fallen leaf from that detestable man. Himself, foolishly doing nothing, unable to approach her while she was isolated, unable to find the courage to do anything, only feeling a faint sense of displeasure.
“Is this… true?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m afraid so.”
“Hah.”
His voice sounded terribly hoarse. As he watched the guard nod, Ovid crumpled the paper in his hand. It was a vicious gesture, as though he wished it were someone’s neck.
The severed head of the knight returned to him, the tulips soaked in blood, and… Iora, who had spent the entire day in the plaza with an unfamiliar man, showing off their warm and friendly atmosphere.
He could not stand it. He could not stand it to the point of being unbearable.
“Vigros. Are you trying to take what is mine away again?”
The sound of his clenched teeth grinding together spread out as if he were chewing the words.
He was no longer that child.
* * *
Could the magic of moonlight truly exist?
Iora was certain that even if, by some tiny chance, she were to meet the same miserable death as she had in the past once again, she would be able to look back on this moment and remember it as something truly happy.
Everything was perfect. Iora could forget that she was being chased through a novel world where she did not know when she might die, that she was a Saint whose existence would become troublesome if discovered by the Emperor and the Crown Prince, and that even her own family was not on her side.
‘This is nice.’
The small boat gently swaying with the slightest movement was charming and adorable. The lake water passing by was incredibly clear, and even mysterious rings of light rose from within it. The moonlight shone brightly overhead, and occasionally, she could see groups of people like them enjoying a nighttime boat ride.
When their feet brushed against each other, the man who had been watching her smiled.
“When did you start smiling so much? Aren’t you taking too much advantage of that face of yours?”
“I don’t smile.”
“But you’re always smiling.”
“I told you. It’s only like this in front of you.”
“Oh my. I understand. That’s the role you’re playing, isn’t it? A boyfriend who just throws out sweet and embarrassing words without hesitation? Someone who treats the other person so sweetly they could melt?”
“Your distrust runs deep. Very deep!”
If he truly needed the Saint’s power, he could have simply kidnapped her. But Vigros had never once, truly not even once, treated Iora poorly.
Their gazes intertwined. A sound like a fish leaping from the lake, a soft splash, echoed through the air.
The first to speak was Vigros.
“It’s troublesome when you keep looking at me like that.”
“I’m just having a staring contest.”
“I’m serious. Be grateful that my patience runs deep… Don’t provoke me. Okay?”
“Oh my. If people found out that the terrifying Duke Elrah was actually someone who could casually spout such cheesy lines, they would all be shocked.”
Even though the words sounded cheesy, she did not dislike hearing them. She had to admit, that was quite a talent. She rubbed her ears roughly for no reason, trying to shake off his gentle voice. Then she playfully splashed the lake water. As she focused on the simple act for a moment and laughed like a child while splashing it, Vigros, too, and even she herself ended up quite soaked.
The droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes looked just like jewels, and she reached out absentmindedly. He closed his eyes. His thick eyelashes brushed softly against her skin, just as she had imagined. Ah, they were so soft.
She murmured in a dazed voice.
“The rumors have really started spreading properly. My maid told me about it. It’s going smoothly, isn’t it?”
This time, it was Vigros who reached out. Just as she had done, he gently brushed away the droplets of water that had splashed onto her eyebrows with his thumb. His intense gaze touched her cheek.
When she looked at him, he stared straight at her as if deliberately showing off, then raised his hand. To her lips. And he pressed a kiss to his finger, as if making sure she heard the soft sound.
Her heart gave a loud thump.
“Uh, th-that’s why.”
“That’s why?”
That wicked man! Just as he had said himself, he really must have enjoyed watching her get flustered.
She reminded herself not to get swept up in it.
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