Chapter 80
Grizelle’s eyes lit up at Aria’s explanation.
‘This was it. Exactly what she’d been desperately wanting.’
Clutching the little vial tight in her fist, Grizelle looked at Aria and curled her lips into a sly smile.
“Tell Her Majesty the Empress… that I’m truly grateful. I’ll repay this favor by giving birth to a strong heir.”
Aria sneered at the sight of Grizelle lost in her own delusions. A d**g to win a man’s love? There could be no such thing. The sheer gullibility was laughable.
Now, just as the Empress wished, Grizelle would sprinkle that potion—a concoction meant to bring infertility—onto her undergarments every day, blissfully unaware of the poison she was putting to use on herself.
* * *
“Never again will I trust what you say.”
At Sylaria’s sulky words, Euclid, who had been holding her in his arms, let out a low, amused laugh.
“Why? I only did it once.”
“That was in the drawing room. But here, you… you—!”
Sylaria, lying in bed and complaining, quickly buried her face under the covers in embarrassment. Euclid, lying beside her, chuckled and pulled the blanket down.
“What? Say it.”
“You kept going… again and again!”
When he teased and pressed for an answer, Sylaria squealed back.
After leaving the drawing room in shambles, Euclid had wrapped her up tightly in a blanket and carried her here himself.
Along the way, every maid and attendant they passed had scrambled to avert their eyes, unsure what to do.
The First Prince, clothes rumpled and disheveled, carrying his fiancée wrapped in a blanket all the way to his bedchamber, and behind them, the once neat drawing room left like the aftermath of a storm, heavy with stifling heat.
Any adult would know exactly what that meant.
“What do you think everyone will be saying about us?”
“That even before we’re properly married, we already seem blissfully close,” Euclid said with an easy grin.
Sylaria pouted at his unruffled reply.
“I won’t help you purify anymore.”
“Are you very mad? I’m sorry.”
Euclid pulled her into a sudden embrace, speaking softly and sweetly. Burying his nose in the curve of her neck, he inhaled her scent deeply. Then, in a quieter, more serious tone, he said.
“When you get angry at me, my heart stops. Don’t be angry.”
“…I’m not angry.”
Sylaria’s voice softened in response to his earnestness. When she looked up at him, Euclid met her gaze with a faint, gentle smile. She found herself staring, entranced by the way he smiled so beautifully, and then she whispered.
“Thank you for coming back safe.”
“Were you worried about me?”
Sylaria nodded. Of course, she had believed he would return safely after closing the ‘Maw’ in the canyon. After all, Arendtert had done it before, so Euclid certainly could. But belief hadn’t made the worry go away.
“It was a dangerous place.”
“Did you know a ‘Maw’ would open in Shastir? Is that why you sent me there?”
“I didn’t know you’d handle it this well.”
“My fiancée really does know everything.”
“Euclid, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Sylaria spoke firmly now, meeting his eyes. His smile faded at her serious expression.
“What is it?”
“I want you to become the Crown Prince. I’m going to make you Crown Prince.”
“……”
At her declaration, Euclid’s eyes darkened, a cold, unreadable glint passing through them.
Sylaria’s chest tightened at the sight. She had assumed, naturally, that he wanted the position. Yet his reaction shook that certainty.
Watching him carefully, she asked, hesitant.
“Do you… not want to be Crown Prince?”
“Is it that important to you, me becoming Crown Prince?”
Instead of answering, Euclid posed a question of his own, his tone subtle and impossible to read.
Sylaria blinked, confusion stirring within her. Her heart thudded faster in her chest.
Perhaps… just perhaps…
He might not want to be Crown Prince at all.
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