An Incurable Habit of Looking
Perhaps it was instinct, the sudden realization that as long as Lilium wanted something from him and he complied, his life would be spared.
“There’s no need to look at me like that. I’m quite fond of creatures that know their place,” Lilium said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “I’m offering to help you with your little errand. Strictly speaking, this is a favor, isn’t it?”
In other words, step out of line, and you’ll be broken. With practiced grace, Lilium neatly tucked the fruit resting in her palm into the pouch Primrose held out. She then dangled it before Cronen’s eyes, who remained tightly bound from head to toe.
“Make sure Her Imperial Highness, Princess Titania, eats this.”
“Wh—wh-what?”
“Preferably on the day of the Offering Festival.”
“……”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult. The fruit grown in our greenhouse is the sweetest, most delicious in the entire world.”
Fruit? Cronen’s mind reeled. She calls this mere ‘fruit’?
Primrose slowly untied the cords binding him. Rubbing his numbed arms and legs, which tingled sharply from the prolonged restriction, Cronen cautiously reached out and took the pouch.
Inside, translucent crimson flesh shimmered like clusters of gems. To the untrained eye, it looked easily mistakable for some exotic tropical pomegranate. But Cronen could not forget the charred, brittle rind that had crumbled away before his eyes just moments ago. It had looked as if someone had compressed pure soot into solid form.
“A flavor,” the girl affirmed, looking every bit like an innocent maiden stepping out of a painting, “that no one could ever forget for the rest of their days.”
Her clear, crystalline laughter rippled through the air, ringing out like clinking champagne flutes.
When I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted me once more.
…Getting used to this thought was definitely a bad sign, yet here I was, having it again. Was my life really going to be all right like this? No, it felt decidedly not all right. Exactly how many times had I skirted death by now?
First was waking from a coma after plunging from the second-floor balcony, only to realize my life was thoroughly doomed. Second was saving Bibi. And this made three. Summer hadn’t even ended yet, and my days had been disproportionately eventful. I wasn’t an iron hoop—if I kept rolling through life like this, I was going to burn through my lifespan in no time.
Blinking slowly, I took stock of my physical condition. Strength returned smoothly to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Still, my entire body felt heavy, like waterlogged cotton. Sensing an uncomfortable tightness around my midsection, I reached down and gingerly patted my waist and stomach, feeling layers of thick bandages wound tightly around my torso.
It had hurt so much at the time that I hadn’t even known where the demonic beast had gored me. Had things gone just a little worse, I really might have died, wouldn't I? A chill ran down my spine.
Even so, my condition itself wasn’t bad at all. It was an absolute stroke of luck that High Priest Ilian happened to be staying here. That man had saved my life more times than I could count. I made a mental note to thank him properly later.
The room was utterly still. Darkness draped over every corner, held back only by the faint glow of a lamp resting beside the bed. Was it late at night? Early morning? I couldn’t tell the exact hour, but it was certainly not daytime.
I had never wished for everyone to crowd around shouting, ‘Her Highness has awakened!’ the way they had when I barely opened my eyes after saving Bibi. Yet the pervasive silence made me unconsciously hold my breath.
Though the ceiling was unfamiliar, the furniture and decor looked recognizable once my eyes adjusted to the dim light. I was probably resting in one of the guest rooms at the Castrein Southern Villa.
I went to push back the duvet pulled snugly up to my chest, only to freeze when I spotted a man dozing off in the chair beside the bed.
It was a back of the head I knew all too well.
Wait, should I really be this familiar with it? Even in the dark, there was no mistaking that glossy, pitch-black hair. Very few people possessed the kind of breathtaking aura where sheer handsomeness practically radiated from the back of their head alone. His upper body leaned heavily toward the bed, slumping as though he had collapsed toward me—or as if he had been trying to hold onto me…
“……Your back is going to kill you when you wake up,” I murmured.
My voice rasped out, harsh and strained. I coughed quietly a couple of times before giving up on talking to myself and simply stared at the side of his face.
Come to think of it, this was the very first time I had ever seen Raymon asleep.
I had nearly died in front of the Castrein family multiple times, been rescued, fainted, and basically shown every unglamorous side of myself imaginable… But Raymon was a man so naturally regal and imposing that even if he knelt before someone of his own accord, it would never look like submission. He had never once shown a gap in his armor. I couldn't even picture it.
Perhaps that was why seeing him fast asleep like this, utterly defenseless with the side of his face exposed to me, felt so surreal. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and his cheeks had hollowed out slightly. Even in his exhausted, gaunt state, that sharp jawline gave him the brooding air of a tragic, tormented beauty, but still…
“……”
Without thinking, I reached out toward the black bangs tumbling across his forehead, only to jerk my hand back.
Just… just the other day, I blew up at him. I had thrown a fit, asking if he enjoyed sabotaging my carefully laid plans, drenched in bitter insecurity from head to toe…
I had bragged that I could handle it, running around stirring up trouble, only to fail spectacularly and nearly get myself killed. If Raymon hadn't come to save me, I probably would have died right then and there.
After talking so big, I couldn't even show my face from sheer embarrassment.
Just die, Titania. Go crawl into a hole and die…
Overwhelmed by self-loathing, I gave my own hair a vicious tug.
Because of my reckless plan, Lisianthus, Debbie, and even Phlux had all been thrown into mortal danger. Even if our primary objective had been a reconnaissance mission to probe the enemy’s methods since we knew so little about them… still, I should have prepared far better.
Fretting with anxious guilt, I unconsciously worried my bottom lip between my teeth until the split skin stung, welling with a bead of blood. At that exact moment, the man’s shoulders gave a sudden twitch.
My breath caught in my throat.
Perhaps he had merely reacted to the scent of blood in his sleep, because the sudden tension in his broad shoulders eased back down a heartbeat later. Phew. I let out a soft, unconscious sigh of relief.
Wait. Why was I relieved? Because he didn’t wake up?
“……He really is handsome, though,” a foolish mutter slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
Ack! What if he wakes up? Flustered, I watched his face nervously, but he remained so dead to the world that there wasn’t the slightest hint of stirring. Reassured, I went right back to admiring his features.
To be perfectly honest, it felt rather novel. Being able to sit in such quiet stillness, just gazing at his face.
If he had been born on twenty-first-century Earth, he would have made a killing as a global megastar with a face like that. Instead, he had the misfortune of being born into this world as a heavily burdened eldest son, drowning in duty and strife. Whenever his eyes were open, the sharp charisma blazing in those golden irises was so intense that I could never entertain such silly thoughts in front of him.
Yet seeing him slumped here, worn thin and full of unguarded gaps, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. In the first place, the fact that he was sleeping in this uncomfortable posture in this exact room was almost a hundred percent my fault…
If I didn't feel guilty, I wouldn't even be human…
It was genuinely strange. Seeing him asleep like this made me realize that, despite everything, he was actually around my age. He wasn’t a fully mature, weathered adult yet, and that realization left a peculiar feeling in my chest.
The thick lashes resting over his closed eyelids, the firm line of his lips… Normally, they looked obstinate and burdened by heavy responsibility, but tonight, they looked exceptionally weary and strangely young.
Unable to resist the impulse this time, I gently reached out, brushing aside the stray lock of hair sweeping across his forehead and tucking it behind his ear.
I think this was the first time I had ever seen him look fragile. That had to be why my heart felt so restless.
And worst of all, it felt like it was because of me.
“……”
I hated this. I hated that I could understand the heart of the original young ‘Titania’ more deeply than anyone else.
How magnificent must this man have seemed to her? How overwhelmingly reassuring must it have been to imagine him building the safest fortress in the world just for her, becoming her family, and pouring out affection?
I shook my head vigorously.
No. Absolutely not. That’s a persimmon hanging too high on the branch, completely out of reach! A gorgeous, flamboyant poison mushroom! Get a grip, Titania! He’s a magnificent catch, but he’s the living incarnation of responsibility!
Even without a single shred of romantic affection, simply because I had saved his family member, he was the kind of man who would lavish everything upon me, begging me to prioritize my own life and urging me to use him however I pleased!
Whenever I fell into danger, he was the kind of man who would rush in with that desperate expression, throwing my feelings into utter turmoil! But even if it hadn't been me, anyone who saved Bibi would have received that exact same treatment! I wasn't special!
Remember! You regained the memories of your past life, which means your mental age is higher. You’re the adult here! Don’t lay your shameless hands on him. Don’t delude yourself.
The world cares far less about me than I think. I’m nowhere near as popular as my ego wants to believe! Prevent main character syndrome and reclaim a healthy sense of reality!
When he stood tall and unyielding like steel tempered ten thousand times over, all I wanted was for him to stop shaking my resolve. I resolved not to let myself get dragged down by the lingering, bitter regrets left behind in the chest of young Titania.
Yet now, seeing him worn ragged from saving my neck, absurd thoughts kept popping into my head: Ah, so this is why people can't ignore abandoned strays on the street… Though calling the Young Duke of Castrein a stray puppy is stretching it beyond reason…
Was it because my inferiority complex—the belief that someone so wonderful was entirely out of my league—had softened? Seeing him struggle, tire out, and prove that he was just an ordinary human who couldn't do everything on his own made him seem approachable. Perhaps viewing him as someone who could never belong to me was what allowed me to see him so objectively in the first place.
Well, even if I called him an ordinary person… comparing the Young Duke of Castrein one-on-one with a penniless, neglected princess was a massive stretch regardless.
“……”
Still, looking at him without an ounce of selfish motive, he really did look exhausted.