Chapter 14: No Kissing Allowed
Chapter 14: No Kissing Allowed
A flutter of white dress fabric filled my vision.
Ah.
Seriously.
I couldn't bring myself to lift my head.
I didn't even want to confirm who the owner of that white hem was.
"Your Highness?"
A voice as light and cheerful as a bird's song rang through the air, laced with bewilderment.
Ophélie.
Hoping she wouldn't notice my trembling pupils, I slowly raised my head.
She was dressed in a pristine white outfit, the kind you'd expect to see in the Saintess's Palace. Since she must have been in the middle of something at the temple, she was holding a crystal in her hand.
Her golden hair, cascading elegantly with its fine texture, was so mesmerizing that I nearly reached out to touch it without thinking.
What would it feel like if I actually did? Would it slip coolly between my fingers? Or would it flow like flour, soft and smooth?
The moment that thought crossed my mind, a chill ran down my spine.
What the hell was I thinking?
Her plump lips, red as ripe cherries...
Even as I tried to steel my mind, I kept becoming aware of all the wrong things. Startled by my own state, I failed to control my expression.
Surprise, confusion, bewilderment.
The myriad emotions that had flickered across her face vanished in an instant.
Disdain.
Misery.
If I had to label the look on her face right now, those words would fit.
I knew. I knew exactly how I must look to her.
Probably like I was utterly disgusted by this encounter.
"Your Highness, what is the meaning of this?"
"......"
I had no idea where to even begin explaining. In the end, I could only stay silent.
"Your Highness, where exactly are we?"
Her expression hardened quietly.
Good question.
But I still hadn't sorted out my thoughts enough to answer.
"......"
"Ludwig Joachim Ernst von Greifenrau-Ernwart."
Ophélie deployed the ultimate technique—the full-name treatment, the kind only mothers used.
Ludwig's ridiculously long name, the kind that could trip up your tongue, spilled from her red lips.
"We're... haa... inside a demon's barrier."
If I kept stalling, I'd get a taste of whatever self-defense tool she had hidden beneath that innocent-looking dress.
Even I could tell how suspicious I looked right now.
Instead of reacting with shock, Ophélie calmly scanned our surroundings.
No walls, no shadows, no wind. Just this eerie space, dimly illuminated by the crystal in her hand.
"It seems like a mental curse."
Of course she'd know.
Even as a fake, she was still the saintess officially endorsed by the Grand Temple. Being well-versed in such knowledge was a given.
"Something like that."
"Why am I here?"
Ah.
Could you maybe not ask that, please?
I clamped my mouth shut again, but this time, I couldn't hold out for long.
The sheer determination in her gaze—one of Ophélie's many unfair skills—was especially effective.
"Your Highness."
"The barrier seems to have responded to my thoughts."
"Elaborate."
"It likely pulled in the person I was thinking of."
I spat it out in the end.
Silence weighed heavily on my shoulders.
Ophélie's eyes narrowed very, very slowly.
"So... you're saying you were thinking of me?"
"I tried not to."
Ophélie didn't get angry. She didn't blush either. She just exhaled, soft as a sigh.
"What's happening outside?"
"Monsters are swarming in. We're fighting on the supply route, and right before one of the demons died, it opened this barrier."
"Then our priority should be figuring out the condition to break it. A demon's Authority is surprisingly straightforward—no matter how malicious, you can escape as long as you fulfill the requirement."
I did know the condition...
I just... couldn't bring myself to say it.
Seeing me remain silent, Ophélie stopped pressing me. Instead of trying to extract information from me, she started inspecting the narrow barrier herself, as if determined to figure it out on her own.
Sway.
The membrane forming the barrier suddenly rippled, and black patterns emerged.
Broken strokes connected with each other, forming a circle between us.
Ophélie took a step back.
The space folded in half.
As if to show what would happen if she kept resisting.
To put it precisely, the space behind Ophélie folded white, like a wall forming where there was none, pushing her back toward me.
"......"
"......"
Ophélie looked at me.
I looked at Ophélie.
"Your Highness seems to know something I don't. Such as... how to break the barrier?"
This was why smart women were intimidating.
Damn it.
I closed my eyes, then opened them again.
A man and woman trapped by a demon's curse.
The person most strongly on their mind.
A kiss to acknowledge each other's feelings.
And then, the barrier lifts.
I'd heard this was a familiar trope among romance novel readers.
But for me in real life, it was a bit much to digest.
"Noona. Are you insane?"
I slammed my phone shut and yelled at my sister.
"This is romance? This is a hostage situation."
But my sister didn't even bother listening, instead flaunting her shamelessness with an utterly brazen expression.
—It's a setting where, in an extreme situation, all realistic constraints are stripped away, leaving only raw emotions between two people. Dummy.
Normal people wouldn't enjoy this.
So there was no way romance fantasy readers would like it either.
Ophélie seemed to have pieced together what I hadn't said.
"It seems the method is something you find difficult to say to me."
Her voice rose slightly.
"But, Your Highness. Now isn't the time for pride."
I knew.
I really knew.
She shook the crystal in her hand.
"This is a Recording Crystal."
Yeah, sorry for dragging you here in the middle of work.
Really, really sorry.
"Someone spread malicious rumors about my tears. I was preparing a counterattack when I got pulled here."
Ah.
So she was dealing with her own mess too.
"So let's just focus on getting back to our respective battlefields as quickly as possible."
"......"
"Tell me the condition to break the barrier."
Ophélie was right.
The only problem was that I'd probably die the moment I said it out loud.
Socially, at least.
The white space rippled again.
This time, the pattern grew clearer. A faint illusion appeared inside the circle.
The Saintess Palace's garden.
White roses.
Moonlight.
And someone's hand tilting up someone else's chin.
I gritted my teeth.
Fuck off.
Seriously, fuck off.
Ophélie's expression turned icy too.
"A... kiss?"
I didn't answer.
Ophélie took my silence as confirmation.
"For a demon's curse, that's rather crude."
"It wasn't my idea. Absolutely not."
Did I emphasize that too much?
Ophélie's eyebrows rose just a fraction.
"You deny it that vehemently? Not even a shred of consideration for a woman's pride."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. We can settle the wounded pride after we get out of this barrier."
She studied me for a moment, then smiled faintly.
It had been a while since I'd seen the face of the former Duke's daughter, Ophélie.
Though technically, this was my first time seeing her as the Duke's daughter.
Memories that weren't mine.
Emotions that weren't mine.
They were starting to shake me.
This was really bad timing.
Probably another one of the barrier's malicious tricks.
Get a grip, Lee Do-yun.
Ophélie raised the Recording Crystal in her hand.
"I, Ophélie Liselotte Adelheid von Auenbrück, hereby record the following."
"Wait."
"I have been isolated with His Highness the Crown Prince due to a demon's mental barrier and voluntarily consent to the presumed escape condition."
What the hell was she recording now?
I couldn't believe my ears.
"Who knows what stories people might spin later."
Ophélie held the crystal and looked straight at me.
"Let's make this quick."
She wasn't joking.
Faced with her cold, resolute gaze, I had nothing to say except something stupid.
"Are you really okay with this?"
"I'm not okay with it."
My heart pounded wildly, heat rushing to my face.
Every hair on my body, from my nape to my toes, stood on end.
And then...
Ophélie took a step forward.
The white space swayed quietly.
I didn't move.
I didn't want to force her.
Ophélie seemed to understand that too. She reached out first, lightly tugging at my sleeve.
"Lower your head. The height difference is inconvenient."
My mouth went dry.
I swallowed, then bent slightly toward her.
It didn't take long for my lips to meet Ophélie's plush ones.
Her face was as dry as someone just getting a job done. But her lips—they were soft and moist.
Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, my lips pulled away from hers.
I cautiously checked our surroundings.
No petals fell.
No music played.
No moonlight shone.
And the barrier showed no change.
"......"
Ophélie kept her head lowered for a while, eyes downcast, chewing on her lip.
"Do it properly, Your Highness."
Her stiff voice struck me.
"Unless you want to do it again."
I took a deep breath.
Yeah, if I were Ophélie, I'd hate this situation beyond endurance too.
Having to kiss the man who once chased her relentlessly, then cornered and even threatened her—all under the pretense of love.
I'd hate it too.
And yet, she was enduring it.
So I shouldn't deny it. I shouldn't run away.
True to its nature as a demon's curse, the barrier was simple and honest.
The problem was that it operated solely on the virtue of desire.
So the only answer was a head-on breakthrough.
We had to acknowledge that we were aware of each other—at least within this space.
I pressed my lips to hers again.
This time, I didn't pull away.
Startled by my sudden movement, Ophélie's lips parted slightly. Before I could slip my tongue in, I carefully tapped against her lips.
Ophélie's body stiffened slightly. I cautiously explored her mouth, and she let out a sharp exhale at the motion.
Would the barrier open this time?
I wanted to open my eyes and check.
But I couldn't.
Ophélie's small hands gripped the collar of my shirt firmly. Then, she wrapped her arms around my neck.
"Let's end it with this one time."
Her whispered breath brushed against my cheek. It felt strange.
I could've sworn the white space hummed faintly.
My senses sharpened unnervingly.
The thin fabric under my fingertips.
Our mingling breaths, brushing and tangling.
The faint warmth shared between our lips.
Her soft hands clutching my collar, embracing my neck.
Was this my sensation?
Or the barrier's influence?
I couldn't tell.
Ophélie swallowed. Her slightly parted lips were maddeningly tempting.
I tried to stop.
But at some point, without realizing it, I was sucking on her tongue, pulling it into my mouth. When the tip of her lost tongue touched inside, a sweet saliva followed. Every time our lips parted, a lingering heat clung stubbornly, as if my whole body would melt.
Just a little—just the slightest bit—Ophélie leaned into me. Her slender waist pressed against my arm, and the soft swell of her chest lightly nudged mine.
A faint lavender soap scent mixed between our breaths. It tickled my nose.
My mind went blank.
What the hell am I doing right now?
The last shred of my rationality asked, but no answer came.
I swallowed her lips again.
Still carefully.
But for a moment, my focus slipped.
Ophélie's pliant body was still wrapped around me, and my body betrayed me.
At some point, I was devouring her lips greedily.
Her arms tightened slightly.
That single motion shattered the distance between us.
Our ragged breaths tangled, our lips grew wet. A sensation so sweet and overwhelming it made my head spin left me paralyzed.
Ophélie's long, lush eyelashes tickled my cheek. The faint tremor felt like the flutter of a butterfly's wings.
Were thousands of butterflies fluttering inside me too? My chest kept churning.
This shouldn't be happening.
This was a demon's barrier.
An extension of battle.
An act to fulfill the escape condition.
But my body refused to follow that logic.
Ophélie's breath faltered inside my lips. My hands hovered awkwardly before finally settling carefully on her waist.
To keep her from falling.
That was my excuse.
A laughably flimsy excuse.
Ophélie didn't push me away.
Instead, she gripped my collar tighter. Her fingertips trembled. Our lips met again. This time, I couldn't even tell who initiated it.
Sweet.
The moment I thought that, my mind snapped back to reality.
Am I insane?
I tore my lips away almost violently.
Ophélie kept her eyes closed for a while, just catching her breath. Her flushed face trembled slightly.
"I'm sorry."
My voice sounded pathetic even to me.
"That was... too rude."
Ophélie slowly opened her eyes.
Her blue irises, usually as clear as the sky, now churned like a stormy sea.
"Very... demon-like."
Her voice pretended indifference.
But it betrayed her, trembling faintly.
"It makes fools of people."
"Agreed."
And finally, the change we'd been waiting for arrived.
Crack.
A fissure split the white space.
Crack, crack.
The cracks spread rapidly. The space—with no walls, no floor, no ceiling—shattered like glass.
I stared at the splitting void and spoke.
"Seems like it worked."
My voice cracked too, sounding unfamiliar.
"When we get out, will I end up back on the battlefield?"
"Most likely."
"Good."
Ophélie smiled faintly, shaking the Recording Crystal.
"I needed to document the Northern Front for a proper counterattack. This works out."
Her face didn't look like she thought it was good at all, but for now, it was better if we both pretended to believe it.
The pure white space shattered into fragments.
The ground beneath us disappeared.
Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed Ophélie. I could feel her body trembling faintly, but I couldn't bring myself to wrap my other arm around her.
The lavender scent faded, replaced by the nauseating stench of blood flooding my lungs.
The howls of demonic beasts.
The clashing of swords.
The shouts of soldiers.
Ulrich's curses.
The battlefield had returned.
And three pairs of eyes locked onto us at once.
Dietrich's face froze.
Caspar's hand went to his sword hilt.
Ulrich wasn't smiling.
Ah.
Seriously.