THVS 10

Chapter 10

“Th‑that wasn’t in the script, Your Highness…!”

From afar, Terdeo—who had been grasping the situation at a glance—stared down at the script in shock. It was the script he had prepared in advance, listing what to say upon meeting Lady Elopez.

Why on earth are you suddenly confessing?!

At Cier’s abrupt move, Terdeo fidgeted like a puppy desperate to relieve itself.

Should I just knock him out and drag him away, even now?

If His Highness were rejected by Lady Elopez right there, Terdeo would surely suffer for days on end.

Why confess without any preparation?!

He shot Cier a glare full of resentment—without forgetting to keep an eye on Tien’s expression as well.

“I never once intended to use you.”

“……”

“That’s why I asked Lady Arvid as well. I mean it. I never planned to use you or your family.”

With those words, Cier drove in the final nail, making it impossible to knock him out and haul him away. Terdeo collapsed onto the floor with a thud.

“It’s over… we’re done for……”

At this point, all he could do was pray that Lady Elopez would accept His Highness.

He quickly dropped to his knees and began muttering.

“Please, please, please… merciful Lady Elopez, please take pity on me and accept our prince’s confession.”

The moment Terdeo’s desperate prayer ended, his hope shattered as well.

Because Tien bolted from the spot.

Cier urgently reached out to grab her, but it was already too late. His eyes looked hollow, as though his soul had left his body.

Watching Cier stand there blankly, Terdeo hurried after Tien—clinging to the faintest shred of hope.

We don’t know yet.

Lady Elopez, who always acted composed, had been visibly shaken when she heard His Highness’s confession.

So it wasn’t over yet—

“…This is insane.”

“……”

…No, it was over.

Hearing Tien mutter the curse under her breath, Terdeo shook his head with a grim expression.

We’re screwed.

After hearing a confession I had never expected, I headed straight for the Elopez estate.

To think he liked me.

I didn’t believe his confession was a lie. His earlobes had been burning red when he said he liked me.

This is driving me crazy.

For what it’s worth, I’ve received quite a few confessions.

But I had never been as flustered as I was today.

More precisely, it wasn’t the confession itself that shook me.

“…The woman Cier Persent liked… was me?”

The thought flashed through my mind that the “dead woman Cier Persent secretly loved,” described in the original story, might be me.

Appearing immediately after Tien Elopez’s death.

Helping Layla’s revenge under the pretense of being her fiancé….

“This is nuts.”

Once I assumed that, everything suddenly fit together.

With such a crazy hypothesis in my head, there was no way I could properly process some stupid confession.

“What am I supposed to do about this…?”

To sum it up: Cier Persent, the only ally who could help Layla in the future.

For him to become the same person he was in the original story, the woman he loved had to die.

And that woman just happened to be me.

So, in conclusion…

“I have to die for Cier Persent to help Layla?”

With the engagement on the verge of being broken, if Tien Elopez’s death were removed from the relationship between Cier and Layla, he would have no reason to help the female lead.

If my guess was right, the only reason the original Cier helped Layla was because “Tien Elopez” had died.

Though he was called an ally, Cier wasn’t actually of much help to Layla. Even when he tried, Layla was already consumed by despair after realizing Tien’s death.

That didn’t mean his help was unnecessary.

I had changed too many things already, twisting the original story. Naturally, variables would arise—and it was impossible to prevent every single one in advance.

So I wanted to prepare countermeasures for unexpected situations.

Cier Persent was one of those measures.

“He’ll help, right? We were engaged once.”

That kind of naïve thinking needed to be thrown away.

What the male leads wanted wasn’t the destruction of the world, nor its conquest—it was Layla alone.

Unless someone looked closely, it would all be dismissed as mere lovers’ quarrels.

Imprisonment?

A ruined, miserable situation?

I had read the original, so I knew how horrific things could get. But to others, it would look like nothing more than the tale of an immodest saintess basking in the attention of men.

A noble lady not even married.

If the saintess of an empire were embroiled in scandal, there would be no one willing to step in and help.

Even if she had once been engaged.

They’d be lucky if they didn’t think it was good the engagement was broken.

My head throbbed from the sudden flood of complications, and I lightly knocked my forehead against the wall.

“Cier Persent… likes me…?”

As if trying to organize my thoughts, I murmured the words—and suddenly remembered his clumsy confession.

A pure sincerity without a shred of deceit.

“Insane…”

One plan had completely collapsed, and I needed to come up with another. Yet Cier Persent kept lingering in my mind.

It was all because a prince of all people kept looking like he was about to cry.

Why does he have to look so pretty when he cries…!

Blaming him unfairly, I knocked my forehead against the wall one more time.

Ragged breaths overflowed past pale lips.

Layla stared at the sword lying on the floor, her face frozen in fear.

Tien…?

She squeezed her eyes shut, denying it.

No. It can’t be.

It must not be.

But when she opened her eyes after desperately convincing herself, nothing had changed.

A single sword lay conspicuously on the floor.

Embedded in its scabbard like a piece of jewelry was something purple.

Her legs gave out, and Layla crawled across the floor. With trembling hands, she barely managed to pick it up—only to drop it again moments later.

Ah… ah…

Her once-clear, sky-blue eyes grew clouded.

Tears welled up and streamed endlessly down her shaking cheeks.

No! No, no… no!

It was an eyeball.

At a glance, it looked like an amethyst—beautiful and mysterious, a deep purple.

In the Persent Empire, there was only one family with purple eyes.

And among them, the most likely owner of these eyes was Tien Elopez—Layla’s one and only closest friend.

Why… why…?!

Clutching the sword to her chest, Layla screamed.

Despair filled her sharp, torn voice.

This couldn’t be happening. It shouldn’t have happened.

Because of me… Tien…

She would rather have died herself than let Tien die.

To lose both her magic and her life because of her—

If only her magic hadn’t been taken.

If only she hadn’t gone to the battlefield just to protect her.

Then she wouldn’t have died like this.

I’m… sorry, Tien… Th‑this is all my fault…

She wasn’t someone who should have died like this.

Unlike insignificant me, she was someone bold and righteous—someone who would have saved countless people.

Hahahahaha! Ahahahahaha!

A chilling laugh echoed through the underground chamber.

Layla’s face, laughing convulsively, was completely broken.

“Aaah! H‑huh… huff…!”

She jolted awake from the nightmare, gasping for breath.

Reaching out shakily, she grabbed the calendar on the table.

“Imperial Year 1459.”

Seeing the year, her rough breathing slowly calmed.

Wiping the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve, Layla sat on the edge of the bed.

“Miss! Did you have another nightmare?”

A maid rushed into the room, eyes wide with alarm at Layla’s scream.

Looking at the flustered maid, Layla gave a gentle smile.

“…Yes.”

“It’s been happening often lately. I’ll bring you some warm honey water!”

“Alright, thank you.”

Once the maid left, Layla’s expression hardened in an instant.

A strange light flickered in her clear blue eyes.

Her hand pressed firmly into the bed.

The pristine white sheets crumpled under her grip.

“This life… I will protect you no matter what, Tien. I won’t let you die in my place. Never.”