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Chapter 10
Adrian hesitated for a moment when he heard that the princess and her maid had gone out to the temple.
He could have waited until Princess Giselle returned to the palace—but impatience gnawed at him for no reason.
He wanted to ask why she had worried about him… or rather, whether he was right to believe she had.
And if not, then at least this time, he wanted to know for certain how her heart had changed.
When Adrian arrived at the temple and was heading toward the main chapel, he saw Giselle sitting in the garden, talking to a young priest.
The two of them were leaning toward each other, speaking in low voices—as if sharing a secret.
He stopped a little distance away and watched them.
Her white muslin dress, tied with a yellow ribbon at the waist, looked even fresher and more graceful than usual.
Once, Giselle had been timid and shy, but now she looked confident and lively. Naturally, that drew the eye.
For a moment, Giselle’s laughter rang through the garden. The young priest smiled, and when he happened to turn his head, his gaze met Adrian’s.
Adrian recognized the man at once. He remembered meeting this priest when he had come to pray for his mother’s chronic illness.
As the conversation between the two seemed to quiet down, Adrian walked toward them without hesitation.
Giselle heard his footsteps and turned. When she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. He bowed slightly.
“Good afternoon, Princess.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
“There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Giselle bit her lip, then turned to the priest.
“Lurwig, I still have many questions for you, but I’ll have to go for today. May I send you a letter?”
The young priest, Lurwig, stood, greeted Adrian politely, and nodded.
“Of course. I’ll be waiting.”
Then Giselle raised her gloved hand and lightly touched his in farewell.
“Goodbye, Lurwig.”
“Take care on your way back, Princess. And you as well, Sir Adrian.”
Lurwig gave them both a courteous bow, though his eyes lingered on Giselle for a moment with a hint of concern before he returned to the main chapel.
As he turned, a glint of light caught Adrian’s eye—something about the man’s expression made him frown slightly.
When Giselle turned back to him, she crossed her arms and frowned.
“So? What brings you here? What did you want to say?”
“Why did you send Prince Lucas to me?”
Adrian sat beside her and asked the question bluntly.
If she had greeted him a little more gently—or if he hadn’t seen the priest’s look as he passed—he might have approached her more kindly.
“Wh-what are you talking about? I just asked him to buy that tavern’s beer. I heard it was really good. I like beer.”
“The princess,” Adrian said evenly, “has never been able to drink alcohol in her entire life.”
Giselle snorted incredulously.
“Hah! Who says I’ve never drunk alcohol? I can even handle wine now!”
“Then tell me the name of the tavern.”
Adrian crossed his arms and fixed his eyes on her lips.
Giselle’s gaze flicked up to the sky. Her mouth twitched.
“The… tavern name? Um… Jay’s… something? Es… uh…”
“I heard you said it was a place Prince Lucas, Hugo, and I used to frequent. So where exactly did you hear such high praise for a bar whose name you don’t even know?”
“Hah! I fell off my horse and hit my head, remember? I forgot!”
“Princess,” Adrian said tightly, “please stop using that horse accident as an excuse and answer properly.”
His tone had gone stiff—like a teacher pressing a student to finish a question quickly.
“I’m not making excuses! I really don’t remember! Gosh, have I really been living a life of deception?”
“You truly don’t remember the tavern?”
“Wasn’t it… Jay? Or maybe Kay?”
“So you were worried about me?”
“Yes, I was—wait, no! That’s not it!”
Flustered, Giselle stumbled over her words, her face heating up. Then she burst out in frustration.
“No—what is this? You sound like you’re interrogating a war criminal! Stop chasing me around with questions—it’s really annoying! Anyway, I don’t know anything, okay? But even if I did, isn’t it a good thing you’re not dead? What more do you want from me?”
At that, Adrian chuckled softly.
Thank goodness—it hadn’t been his imagination.
He uncrossed his arms and smiled, a gentle smile he hadn’t worn in a long time.
“Oh, don’t laugh like that! I didn’t do anything foolish. I was just acting out of love for humanity—as a disciple of God! But if I’d known you were going to nitpick like this, I would’ve just left you to your fate. And by the way, your face looks like a bruised persimmon!”
“A… bruised persimmon?”
“Yes, completely smashed.”
Adrian instinctively touched his face, wondering if the bruises were still that bad. Only then did he realize how battered he must look.
As Giselle rose from her seat, a faint scent of osmanthus drifted in the breeze.
Adrian stared for a moment at her golden hair glimmering in the sunlight.
“Now that you’ve said what you came to say, let’s go. I’m tired from praying all day. If I collapse here, you’ll have to carry me again, so you’d better hurry.”
“If you fall, I can carry you again,” Adrian said quietly.
Giselle’s eyes widened.
For a second, her amber eyes—lit by the sunset—looked like molten gold.
She murmured, flustered, “Are you crazy? I nearly died the last time you carried me. You want to do that again?”
“Do you… feel indebted to me?”
“Well, that’s not untrue. But fine—let’s just call it even. I’ll count the help you gave me that day as repayment. So don’t come back and show me that persimmon face again!”
With that, she turned sharply and descended the stairs.
Adrian followed behind, smiling faintly as her soft scent lingered in the air.
“Hmph. How did he even figure it out? Why did he think I asked him to buy me a drink for that reason?”
The question Adrian had thrown at her earlier still lingered in Giselle’s mind.
‘Did I meddle too much when I could’ve just left him alone?’
But still—she remembered that scene.
If Lucas had arrived even a few minutes later, it would’ve been a disaster.
How much had Adrian been drinking to end up like that?
‘Seriously… why do grown men get into bar fights anyway?’
She paced back and forth in her room, thinking about everything that had happened the day before.
When Adrian had shown up at the temple, she’d thought he was going to bring up their broken engagement again.
Especially since one wasn’t supposed to show personal emotions in front of a priest.
But his expression when he’d seen her with Lurwig was pure discomfort.
And yet, instead of resenting her, he had been… worried.
He’d asked if she had tried to save him—and hadn’t believed her lies when she denied it.
What struck her most was that he never once asked about her powers.
Most people wanted to know where her precognition came from, how it worked, and what she’d seen.
But Adrian had only asked if she cared about him—as if that was all that mattered.
‘Did I really care about you? Does that even matter?’
He hated her. She hated him. So what difference did it make?
It was just… humanity, that’s all.
Giselle sighed, shaking off her thoughts, and pulled the bell rope.
“Princess, did you call?”
Lin came running into the room. Giselle stood before the mirror, removing her dressing gown.
“Yes. Help me get dressed.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Are you going somewhere?”
“No, not exactly. Sir Christophe will be visiting the palace later.”
As Lin helped her with the chosen dress, she hesitated for a moment before asking curiously,
“Princess, may I ask something?”
“Hm?”
“Are you really going to… try that ‘free love’ thing?”
Giselle blinked.
Had Lin read her recent declaration of romantic freedom?
“How do you even know about that?”
“Is it strange?” Lin asked brightly. “I think it’s cool! I always thought loving just one person felt suffocating, but lately… I feel like everything’s opened up inside me.”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, as if Giselle had unclogged a river in her heart.
Most people still lived by the idea of loving and marrying just one person—but Giselle wasn’t so sure she had to.
“Well, there are benefits to only dating one person,” she said thoughtfully, “but my situation’s different. I need to meet someone who’s truly right for me. So, I’ll have to choose carefully.”
“So… is Sir Christophe one of those ‘right’ people?”
“Sir Christophe? No, he’s just a friend.”
“A friend?”
Yes, that’s what she thought.
They had grown up together, played games as children—he was a good friend.
But still… what on earth was with that huge ring?
