🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 27
His emerald eyes wavered as they met mine.
A small sigh slipped out of me.
If I were to guess, he was probably wondering why I hadn’t sought him out after receiving the Duke of Wentworth’s letter.
That was what I expected.
But instead, what came out of his mouth was something wholly unexpected.
“Amelia, what’s wrong?”
“…Pardon?
What do you mean?”
Surprisingly, it was Vincent who faltered at my question.
His lips parted as if to speak, then he suddenly turned his gaze away.
“No… nothing.”
“…?”
Even as I gave him a puzzled look, Vincent said no more.
How anticlimactic.
And just like that, dinner ended without incident.
***
I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
Why don’t you like me anymore?
What’s wrong?
It wasn’t something I could put into words.
And so, yesterday again, we’d only shared a meal before I sent her back.
Of course, that wasn’t the only thing I wanted to ask.
Why hadn’t Amelia come to him after receiving the Duke’s letter, unlike before?
But asking that would only reveal he had eyes on her, watching her every move.
And to demand an explanation for why she was acting differently than in the past?
Even less possible.
If she had come…
Originally, his plan had been to feed her false information.
But with this changed Amelia, Vincent couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t end up telling her the truth.
Not that it mattered much.
He was already fully prepared to block the duke’s schemes, with or without Amelia’s interference.
Still… it would’ve been nice if she had come.
Vincent’s steps faltered, and then he tried to rationalize it.
Amelia had to be hopelessly in love with him.
That way, she could be used—and would be worth avenging himself upon.
Yes.
That’s what this is.
It was still early morning.
Sleepless, Vincent had wandered into the palace gardens.
He’d expected solitude, but then—laughter.
Following the sound, he passed tall hedges until he came upon the scene.
“Hahaha, Sir Derrick, you’re surprisingly cute.
Did you just get scared of a bug?
Are you afraid of them?”
“No, my lady.
It merely startled me, flying at my face so suddenly.”
“Oh, I see. Ah!
Sir Derrick, there’s a fly on your head—!”
Amelia pointed above him in mock alarm, and Derrick instantly brushed his hand over his hair.
When he caught her stifled laughter, he lowered his hand, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“There wasn’t any fly, my lady.”
Amelia’s bright laughter rang through the garden, sunlight made into sound.
Vincent stared at her, transfixed.
Has she ever laughed like that in front of me?
Most of the expressions he’d seen from Amelia were tears—or shyness.
No… lately, the one he’d seen most was a blank mask, or a faint, painted smile.
“My lady, don’t tease him so much.
The knight will be embarrassed!”
Vivian scolded lightly, but she was laughing even harder than Amelia.
Derrick’s expression was sheepish, but not unhappy.
When did they grow that close?
Both Vivian and Derrick were people Vincent himself had assigned to keep an eye on Amelia.
Vivian was a woman and constantly at Amelia’s side, so closeness was expected.
But Derrick?
He was taciturn, stiff as stone, a man of rules and obedience.
That was precisely why Vincent trusted him enough to station him at Amelia’s side.
Yet seeing him so relaxed, smiling that way—Vincent felt an odd, gnawing discomfort he couldn’t name.
Step.
Just as he was about to approach—
Whish—thunk!
A dagger flew at his throat.
Vincent caught it cleanly.
Derrick’s eyes widened as he rushed over, dropping to his knees.
“Forgive me, Your Highness!
Please execute me.”
“No.
It’s my fault for lurking.”
He had stepped out from behind a tree; Derrick, ever the guard, had reacted instantly.
“Your Highness?
Are you all right?”
Amelia hurried over on quick, startled steps, eyes wide as a rabbit’s.
For some reason, the tightness in Vincent’s chest eased at the sight.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Goodness, that was close.
But to catch a flying dagger… Your Highness, your reflexes are truly remarkable.”
“It’s nothing.”
Vincent forced down the swell of pride, looking down at Derrick still kneeling before him.
The truth was, had he not caught that blade, Derrick would have been condemned for attempting regicide.
No—Derrick would’ve taken his own life first.
Either way, the attack had failed, and Derrick had only been fulfilling his duty.
Vincent had no intention of punishing him for that.
What gnawed at him more was the sight of Derrick talking so comfortably with Amelia.
The thought soured his mood again.
But condemning a knight for a feeling he couldn’t even name?
Impossible.
Derrick was too competent for that.
“Derrick.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“The palace grounds are relatively safe.
Refrain from lethal responses unless absolutely necessary.”
“Yes, Your Highness.
I overreacted, thinking any intruder must be strong.
I will be more cautious.”
“Rise.”
Derrick bowed deeply before standing.
Vincent turned to Amelia, extending a hand.
“If you were walking, shall we…?”
“Oh my, I completely forgot—I need to water the flowers.
Your Highness, enjoy your walk.
I must go back.”
Without so much as a glance behind, Amelia left.
Naturally, Vivian and Derrick followed.
Vivian gave Vincent a brief look as she went, but nothing more.
His outstretched hand hung awkwardly in the air before he let it fall.
“…Ha.”
A dry laugh escaped him.
He thought he’d known already.
But now, he was certain.
Lady Amelia Wentworth no longer had a shred of affection for Crown Prince Vincent.
His beautiful face tilted up toward the sky as he murmured under his breath.
“…Then what now…?”
***
“My lady, my lady!”
I slowed at the sound of Vivian’s voice calling from behind.
“Mm?”
“Oh, why are you walking so quickly?
I can’t catch my breath.”
“Ah, sorry.”
She peered at me, eyes narrowing.
“You must be tired too, my lady.
Your face is red.”
“…Huh?
Ah… right.”
I rubbed my face with the back of my hand, heading slowly toward my chambers.
“I should rest a little.”
At my clear desire to be alone, Vivian stopped at the door.
“Yes, call if you need anything.”
The door closed behind me, and only then did I let out a heavy sigh.
Both palms smacked against my cheeks with a loud slap.
“Good grief, I’m insane.
To think I’d get flustered over that, just because I’m shallow.”
Yes, Vincent had always been handsome.
That was nothing new.
But seeing him so casually pluck a flying dagger from the air—my heart had lurched.
It was so disconcerting I’d bolted, blurting the first ridiculous excuse about watering flowers.
“I must have looked ridiculous.”
The vases in my room bloomed with fresh, well-watered flowers.
And truth be told, it wasn’t just his face.
Up close, I’d noticed his forearms were corded with muscle, his chest broad.
“Ahh… how worthless inner beauty must be.”
The words slipped out, and I smacked myself on the head with my fist.
Careful.
Keep this up and you’ll really start to like him.
Fall for someone on looks alone?
Oh, entirely possible.
My dating history before possession was proof enough of that.
I’d chased pretty faces plenty of times.
The results hadn’t been great, but still.
Maybe Amelia and I aren’t so different after all.
But this was no ordinary situation.
My exes had only been bad-
tempered men.
Vincent was a man who wanted me dead.
Here, it was literally life or death.
I reminded myself again and again until the heat in my chest finally cooled.
At last, I felt composed.
And then—knock, knock.
Someone rapped at the door.
Vivian had said she’d only come if I called.
So then… who could it be?
