Chapter 19
Viern felt a flicker of irritation. Who did he think he was, defending the princess in front of him? A watcher he’d assigned, no less. Then again, Aisen had always been like this. He’d set him to watch her, yet the boy kept forgetting his place—feeling pity for the princess, building camaraderie with her…
‘Br-Brother! What do you think of Her Highness the Princess!’
It was the same three years ago. Back then, Aisen had asked as if he were someone to the Princess, with a leaf clearly stuck in his hair from fooling around with her. Seized by an inexplicable sense of displeasure, Viern had deliberately poured out cruel words, knowing full well she was hiding and listening behind the bushes.
He frowned, thinking he’d ended up saying things he shouldn’t have the moment he turned away. The source of this uncharacteristic anxiety is likely worry that the royal puppet, whom he worked so hard to win over and make his, might turn away. It didn’t matter. All he needed was a living royal bloodline. Her heart wasn’t necessary. If she tried to run away later out of a sense of betrayal, he could just hold her back by force.
But a few hours later, Diana appeared before him as if nothing had happened, smiling with innocent cheer. Staring intently at the reddened rims of her eyes—clear evidence she had buried herself in her blankets and cried her heart out—Viern felt a constricting sensation in his throat and, simultaneously, an overwhelming surge of satisfaction as he approached her.
When he rubbed the rough, swollen skin around her eyes with his fingertips, and Diana let out a ‘hehe’ laugh and threw herself into his embrace, a strong premonition struck him.
This woman, whom I took in and tamed with my own hands, will always wag her tail and look only at me, like a young beast craving its master’s affection, no matter what I do or what harsh words I say. Even if I never truly return those feelings…
And so it was. Diana acted as if she knew only him, baring fierce fangs and keeping her distance from everyone else. Remembering that, the intensely irritable mood that had been soaring just moments ago eased a little.
He scoffed at those who had come to offer him unsolicited advice and lowered his gaze back to the document folder. He knew the Princess better than anyone. Even if she was feeling a bit gloomy now, she was a woman who would smile brightly again once he went to soothe her. Just as it had always been.
But as he tried to focus on the blank white page before him, the image of the pale Princess—the one he had tried to push away—her face deathly white as she trembled in the cold, crept back into his mind without fail.
‘Don’t be angry, Viern. I’m also……’
‘……I’m hurt too.’
That face, looking up at him with unusually subdued, utterly wretched eyes…
In the end, he had no choice but to set down the document folder he was holding.
“You certainly have a variety of ways to get under a person’s skin.”
He muttered, raking a hand roughly through his hair. They said the Princess had been abstaining from food and drink, lost in self-reflection. The thought of her already small, slender frame growing even thinner put him in an extremely foul mood.
It seemed it would be best to go see her tonight and make sure she eats a proper meal. With her difficult temperament, it was obvious she’d be throwing tantrums, overturning trays when the attendants tried to persuade her to eat.
It was just as Viern was thinking this and mentally selecting foods to feed her that a knock interrupted his thoughts.
“Your Grace, it’s Eldman. I have prepared the flower bouquet.”
The aide’s voice shattered his reverie. Viern promptly gathered his emotions and called out.
“Come in.”
The aide handed over a large bouquet and asked.
“The carriage is also waiting. When shall we depart?”
“We leave now.”
Since his concentration was already broken, Viern stood up indifferently, took the bouquet, and headed for the Marquis of Silberk’s residence. It was a visit to his prospective fiancée, who had reportedly fallen ill and taken to her bed since the incident that day.
“Your Grace…!”
Sophia, who had been lying in bed, sat up to greet him.
“Please, you don’t need to get up.”
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace. It seems the chill from the lake that day has turned into a lingering cold…”
Sophia covered her mouth with a handkerchief and gave a light cough. It was a fragile, pitiful sight meant to evoke a protective instinct, but to Viern, who knew she was perfectly capable of rising yet was deliberately keeping to her sickbed, it merely seemed laughable.
When Diana pulled such cunning fox-like tricks, she merely looked adorable. Today, however, it felt slightly irritating. A waste of his time to be robbed of like this…
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