Who Said You Could Break the Engagement (3)

Night was closing in. Libido sat with his face locked rigid, trying to quiet the turmoil churning in his gut. The party had been a disaster. No—what he himself had done at the party had been the disaster.

Turn it over as he might, he still could not understand why he had done it. He squeezed his eyes shut, and the memory of that moment slid past like running water.

He had found Psyche talking among the men. His stomach had turned. He had kissed her. Libido looked down at his own hand. This hand was the problem.

When he came back to himself, he had been trying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to peel her clothes off, and Psyche had been glaring at him the way one glares at a pervert. Hideous.

Idiot. Idiot. A complete fucking idiot.

"...What do I do now."

His legs were shaking. Or perhaps his whole body was shivering in fine little tremors; he could no longer tell. He had never been like this before. Psyche had spoken of breaking off the engagement plenty of times, and yet...

Somehow, this time, it felt different from all the rest.

Libido covered his face with his hands. Now she even had her justification. The most perfect justification there was for ending an engagement—that before they were even married, he had tried to force himself on her.

"Fine. Whatever. If she wants to break it off, let her. I've nothing to lose. She's just some girl who's a little bit pretty, that's all..."

He flung out words he did not mean in the least, hollow into the empty air, the way a child shaking all over dares someone to go ahead and hit him. A forced show, meant only to hide his fear.

What he had spat scattered, meaningless, into nothing. Libido bit his lip. He was certain that the moment morning came, Psyche would run straight to the king and beg him to dissolve the engagement.

Of course she would. Psyche had always wanted to break it off.

Huu. He let out a long breath. Tick. Tock. The clock on the wall needled at him for no reason at all. He got to his feet and paced without purpose, and a vicious anxiety swept through him.

If she marries someone else.

If she lives happily without me.

"Fuck—!"

Crash. Whatever his hand had closed on shattered.

The shout came out wet. Huu. Huh. Libido dragged in breath after breath. His face was wet. He was crying. A grown man, sniveling like this. He clenched his teeth.

Why did I do it. Why did I do that.

He asked the question even though he already knew the answer. Because he was anxious. Because he loved her. Because it hurt. Because his feelings had boiled up and down and wrenched themselves sideways.

It frightened him that other people wanted Psyche. He loved her so much he could not bear to lose her. The mere thought of her being taken by someone else was agony.

And the result was that he now stood on the verge of having the engagement broken out from under him.

A ridiculous sight. What he had done for fear of ruin was only hastening the ruin.

"When tomorrow comes... Psyche will..."

The night had grown deep. Let today slip past like this, and morning would come. When morning came, Psyche would ask the king to end the engagement...

A single resolve settled inside him, heavy as a weight laid upon his chest.

Go. Go to Psyche.

He had been pacing the room; now he made ready and stepped outside. A light stroll. Only a light stroll. A black sack in one hand and a lantern in the other, he walked out with a show of indifference.

At some point he slowly looked around. Hoo-oo. Coo, coo, coo. Even in the deep of night a bird called now and again. A small garden. His destination.

"I just can't let the engagement be broken like this. That's all. That's all it is."

He murmured it under his breath—a small, cold murmur, as if he were justifying what he meant to do.

Libido put out the lantern. Utter darkness settled over everything. He knew this garden well. Well enough to walk it with his eyes closed.

Rustle. Rustle. Whether it was the hour, or the fact that he was doing something he must not, his footsteps sounded unnaturally loud.

From the sack in his left hand he drew a mask and put it on. The sack was large enough to hold a person's head, and inside it lay a cloth meant for a gag.

Is this right. I don't know.

Just. Just.

I only don't want the engagement broken.

I only wanted to marry you.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. Eyes already adapted to the dark judged at once which way he had to go. A small pond lay in the garden, and behind that pond stood a single great tree—

Slip a hand into the little hole in that tree and pull, and the Secret Tunnel opened, the hidden passage leading straight to Psyche's room. He and Psyche had found it as children and kept it secret from everyone.

He eased his shoes off and crept inside. The passage that had been wide in childhood was a little narrow now, and perhaps because he walked as carefully as he could, it felt unusually long.

The end of the passage. He felt carefully along the wall, and his hand found a door.

Creeeak. The old hinge rang out, for no good reason, loud as thunder. Libido's heart gave a guilty jolt. She wouldn't wake from hearing that, would she. If the guards caught him, he would be in trouble.

When the door opened, scraps of cloth caught against his hands. Psyche had hidden the mouth of the Secret Tunnel behind clothes. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠He pushed through them, and her dressing room opened before him.

"......"

At last he stood before Psyche, sunk in a deep sleep.

When tomorrow came, she would not be there.

Talk of breaking the engagement... she would never even get the chance to speak it.

"Seriously... does this even make sense..."

Psyche buried her face in her pillow and wept the night through. The lights of the residence had gone out and a pitch-black night had settled, and still her startled heart would not calm.

She had never in her life seen Libido with eyes like that, doing a thing like that. Even when her father said that men were all beasts, she had stuck out her tongue and insisted—Libido wasn't like that—!

"How could you? How could you do that to me? What did I even do wrong."

To Psyche, Libido was something like an arm or a leg.

A foolish, stupid fiancé who followed wherever she went, who fetched whatever she said she liked, who all but died of joy if she so much as offered him a little smile.

A life without Libido was something she had never once imagined living.

Even now, after she had turned a cold fury on him and sworn in earnest that she would break the engagement, she could not quite feel that she was truly parting from him.

But—.

"Fine. It's not as if I did anything wrong. It's all Libido's fault."

It was his fault, and now she had blurted out, meaning every word, that they should break the engagement. Psyche's heart dropped with a sickening lurch. She had to part from Libido? Libido would not be at her side?

He was such an idiot that even after the engagement was broken he might wander about without ever coming to his senses. He would grab some other girl, any girl at all, shove his mouth at her however he pleased, and end up married.

That bastard. He can just drop dead.

...Should I just forgive him.

No. No.

Psyche's lips trembled. She clutched a pillow nearly as large as her own body and nuzzled her face into it. Her head was spinning. She did not know what she was supposed to do.

She did not want to part from Libido. But she did not want to forgive him, either. He had said he would cherish her. He had said he would protect her. He had said he would love her for the rest of his life.

Then he was not supposed to do a thing like that.

On my... lips. Putting his mouth there however he wanted. K-kissing me. Trying to take my clothes off. He wasn't supposed to. Even if we were... lovers, he wasn't supposed to do something like that so carelessly.

How startled I was. How much my wrist hurt. How scared I was. Bad man. Why did I have to go through that because of you. I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed. Why did I even go to that party in the first place.

It's all Libido's fault. Every bit of it is Libido's fault.

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠really hate you......!"

She pounded the pillow, pinched it, hugged it tight, rubbed her face into it, bit down hard with her teeth, headbutted it, clamped it between her legs, and then buried her face in it.

As if Libido himself were right there inside it.

"I'm going to break the engagement. I'm really going to break it."

Then he'll understand his mistake, at least a little. He'll notice. Grinning like a fool at other girls, and then actually showing up to a party with some other woman just because I told him to attend.

And I'd held off dancing all the way to the end on purpose, because I meant to dance with him—and that stupid boy never even asked. I dressed up so carefully, and he didn't compliment me once.

And besides. Besides.

Why did he go out onto the balcony. For dozens of minutes. What was he doing out there. He hadn't hidden some other woman, had he? Annoying. Annoying. And the moment he came back in—so infuriatingly—

He strode right up to me. I was in a tight spot, and I thought he was coming to pull me out of it, and I got my hopes up. I thought we would have time that was just the two of us, or dance the dance we had missed. I was sure that was what would happen.

And then, out of nowhere, he kissed me. My lips.

W-wanting to kiss me was fine, actually.

"Do you think I'm—I'm—I'm some cheap woman?!"

Whatever he was doing out on that balcony—

I'm a princess. I'm his fiancée. I'm the woman who's going to be his wife. Shouldn't he treat me all the more preciously, then? Squirming. Wriggling. Just touching my—my body however he pleased.

I hate it. I really hate it. Drop dead. You're awful. I—I—I don't really know about things like that. An idiot, putting on a show of knowing what he's doing. No—I hate this. Wait. He isn't actually experienced, is he? Is there another woman?

Annoying. Annoying.

Those so-called princes, whispering filthy gossip behind people's backs.

They said all men were like that. They said Libido would be like that too, and I swore he wasn't. I swore my Libido would never be like that. And the moment I said so, he went and did exactly that.

Tch.

Psyche kept stroking her own lips. Ugh. Without asking. Without asking. The feel of that moment kept rising up again. She was annoyed, she was angry, she truly hated it... and still she could not stop thinking of it.

And he's an idiot. Seriously, why does my heart keep pounding. Is it because I'm too angry. And th-that tongue—why does that keep coming back, too. Ah, seriously. Annoying. I hate it. It's the worst.

"I am absolutely going to break the engagement......!"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

She had tossed and turned the whole night, and at last, as if she had worn herself out pouring all that anger away, her eyes slid softly shut.

When tomorrow comes. No... maybe I'll wait just one more week. I'll see how that idiot Libido apologizes. If he doesn't do anything, then I'll really break it off. Hmph.

Psyche had a good dream.

"Th-that's not what I—... huh?"

It was still night. Psyche sat up in a daze. There was a blanket, and yet the bed felt strangely hard. It was dark. And cold. Fear took hold of her.

She tried, carefully, to get up. She meant to climb off the bed and take stock of things first. Something was wrong. The bed had grown far too wide. And it was hard, and cold.

Somehow, it seemed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to smell of an unfamiliar cellar.

"...H-huh?"

This isn't my room.

From the darkness, Libido watched in silence toward the place where Psyche was shut away. A voice thick with panic reached him; she had woken. Pitch-black dark. She would not be able to see him.

This was Libido's own villa, set near the Royal Castle. He had been preparing to succeed his house, and that a villa of this sort should be given to him was only natural.

He had locked Psyche in the basement of that villa. A dangerous thing to have done—but if he meant to move her somewhere safe and certain before she woke, it had been the best he could manage.

None of it had been planned. He had done it on impulse, unable to bear the thought of letting the engagement be broken like this. Black dread ate at him.

By now the Royal Castle must be in an uproar.

Huu. Libido let out a heavy sigh, and at the sound Psyche seemed to realize that someone was there. She would not be able to make out his shape in the dark, but she would have felt a presence.

"Wh-who are you? What is this? Wh-what on earth is going on? ...I won't punish you, so don't be afraid. Explain it to me, slowly and properly...!"

She mumbled it in a voice that shook.

Libido discovered something new about her.

...A little slow to grasp the situation, is she?