The Prince’s Taste - Chapter 7.7

She couldn’t bring herself to look. Because if everything went according to the novel, then to Richard, she was nothing more than a woman who had given him a few nights of pleasure. Judy Esther’s heart began to ache at the thought that she had only been his woman for a few days.

Yes. Just a few days.

Some might scoff. How could anyone fall in love in a matter of days? Could that even be true love? But her heart beat for him—as if she had loved him for a long time.

The love that Judy Esther had for Richard in the original story—the love that could never be fulfilled and ended in death. That desperate, unfulfilled yearning must have carried over. If not, how else could she possibly explain this feeling? The pain was unbearable, like a wound that had been painstakingly stitched, tearing open again.

So, Judy Esther decided she would rather avoid him. She stepped out onto the terrace and drew the curtain shut behind her. Whatever happened inside the ballroom, she decided not to care. If she could just endure this night that felt like an eternity, maybe peace would come to her.

Until then, she would have to sit with her own reality, restitching the same wound over and over through the night.

The lively waltz, the light laughter of dancing couples all drifted out to the terrace where she stood.

Everyone is happy. So why is she sad? She wished there would be fireworks like a few days ago.

She leaned out over the railing, gazing up at the sky prickled with stars.

“Richard Adrian.”

The name she needed to forget slipped from her lips. Startled, she instinctively raised her hand to cover her mouth. But just then,

“You’re the one who left me alone all day… and now you’re sulking?”

Thump. Her heart dropped to her feet. That familiar, smooth, low voice whispered against her ear. Warmth spread across her back as his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, holding her close. His mere presence was enough to shift the air around her.

“I was going to scold you when I saw you, …but I must’ve missed you more than I thought.”

She was so happy she felt like crying. Maybe she already was. Her mind blanked at the sound of his voice, at the heat of his embrace. This man. Did he choose her over Ella?

“How did you know I was out here?”

“You are always at the end of the sight of every young lord.”

“…I doubt that. Not tonight.”

The heroine of the story is inside that ballroom. There is no way a mere villainess could compete with that kind of light.

“I’m the one hoping for that. I want to chase all those men away. Even after I made it known—loud and clear across Adrian—that Judy Esther is mine, some of them still haven’t given up.”

“You did?

“You didn’t know? I wandered the city barefaced for days just to let everyone know Judy Esther is mine.”

His voice held that same teasing lilt as always, and her heart ached with tenderness.

“I wanted to do that, too.”

“You, too?”

“Yes. I wanted everyone to know you’re my man.”

She took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. The presence of the male lead was overwhelming. Just having him near made the world feel different. Slowly, Judy Esther turned in his arms. Richard hadn’t let go of her waist. She remained in his embrace, looking up at him.

He wore a ceremonial white uniform embroidered with gold thread—the kind reserved for royal occasions. Unlike the seductive air he exuded in a tailcoat, this gave him a restrained, regal elegance. The uniform clung to his long limbs, and Judy Esther’s eyes widened without meaning to.

“You’re in full regalia today.”

“I wanted to look serious in front of you.”

…As if he weren’t devastating enough. How could he possibly be even more handsome?

Was it for the proposal? He was already unbearably lovely. But tonight, even more so. He was the perfect male lead in a novel.

A tender lover, and an ideal sovereign.

“I get terribly jealous, you know. I can’t bear the thought of sharing my man with anyone. Not now, not ever. So choose carefully.”

Jealousy over the king’s consorts is not exactly a trait befitting a queen. Ella might be able to endure it, but Judy Esther never could.

“I thought I’d shown you everything. Is it still not enough?”

“It’s not that you haven’t. This is me giving you one last chance.”

She shook her head. His devotion had never wavered. She was simply terrified that he would change because of the original story. If she didn’t love him, none of this would matter. But she did, exactly as the original setting dictated.

‘The Secrets of Cinderella’s Climax’ was a novel with zero coherence. A story that wasn’t plot-driven, but a string of explicit scenes barely tied together. And that uncertainty — that dread of not knowing what the next page might bring — was the most terrifying part of all. It was like riding a rollercoaster dozens of times a day. Her emotions soaring sky-high one moment, only to crash the next.

“But what if you like it?”