IDGVE 23

Chapter 23

Since that day, Chesar Lagrachio had gone into hiding—as if he had made up his mind to disappear completely.

“Do you know how hard I worked to get close to him?”

Abel’s usually gentle eyes twisted in frustration.

Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?

Pacing around the room brought no answers.

If it were the usual Abel, she would have charged in recklessly. But how could you crash into someone who wouldn’t even show his face?

“Why, all of a sudden…”

There were no signs.

But the timing was clear.

Right after the Queen summoned him.

Since that day, the First Prince had been ignoring Abel’s calls like a silent protest.

“Honestly, the first time I met him was better.”

Back then, Chesar Lagrachio had been snarky, sure—but at least he didn’t avoid her.

Maybe it was pride as a prince that kept him in check.

But now, the First Prince wasn’t even holding on to that pride. He was wholeheartedly avoiding Abel.

“This is driving me crazy.”

Her long hair curled more than usual because of the humidity.

She tried knocking on his door, raising her voice, even bribing with food.

She even sang mournful love ballads in the hallway—but there was no response.

If it were me, I’d at least open the door out of curiosity.

If someone was rolling around in front of your door, wouldn’t you want to know who it was?

But no matter how desperately Abel acted, she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the prince’s gaze.

“Ughhhhhh.”

Father, our family is on the verge of ruin.

Behind Abel, who was staring blankly out the window, a tuft of gray hair crept closer.

“You’re still doing that?”

Her chubby-cheeked younger brother looked at her disapprovingly.

“What’s wrong with skipping a few days?”

“It’s not that I won’t go, it’s that I can’t.”

“Of course. How can you go out in this rain?”

“That’s not the issue, Sana. I could push through the rain if I wanted.”

“Are you insane?”

“Wha— Who taught you to speak like that?”

“You did.”

“…Fair. Anyway, it’s not like the road’s blocked. It’s just—there’s no point in going if that guy isn’t going to show up.”

“Then just stop going altogether.”

Sananet spread his arms and stared at her.

Abel picked up the little peanut—no, her little brother—and sat him on the window ledge.

Now sitting higher than his sister, he pouted.

“You always bring stuff for him, but he never gives anything back. What does our family even lack that you keep doing this?”

“There’s plenty we lack.”

Like my life, for instance. Or our family’s survival.

But that wasn’t something you said to your eight-year-old brother—or to your young father.

Still unconvinced, Sananet added:

“Even so, you don’t need to grovel to the First Prince.”

“Sana, you have to live looking toward the future.”

“Are you investing in real estate or something?”

“Your sister is ten years old.”

Abel gently stroked her brother’s soft scalp.

His hair, inherited from their father, was fine and smooth.

If it meant protecting this moment, Abel would do anything.

Her dark eyes turned toward the slightly thinning rain.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

“Miss, a package has arrived for you.”

“A package? From who?”

“Uh… someone named Cardel Luciora. A friend of yours?”

At the unexpected name, her wide eyes swelled like freshly baked bread.

“Luciora? Isn’t that the guy you….”

“Yeah. The one I had a duel with. Just leave it there.”

A pale pink box was placed on the round table.

“Is it another single glove?”

“It’s too big for that.”

Not that she’d care even if it was just another glove.

With little enthusiasm, she opened the box with her small hands. Inside was—

“…Huh?”

“Whoa…”

Seeing the lavish gift, Sananet murmured softly:

“Did you maybe hit him too hard in the head that day?”

“No. …Was losing his sword that traumatic?”

The box, slightly lighter in color than Abel’s hair, was overflowing with red roses.

About a hundred of them, maybe.

And that wasn’t all.

“To the brilliant Miss Abel Delaphion, I humbly ask for your forgiveness…”

A card, the size of her palm.

So different from the recent memory of him handing over his sword and being dragged away by his mother.

“Well, I guess that can happen.”

“He got tossed in a duel and now he’s sending you a bouquet—that can happen?”

“Because I’m cute.”

Her small shoulders shrugged confidently.

“If you think about it, it’s not that surprising.”

If he’s sane, he’d naturally fall for her.

Abel shamelessly reassured herself and concluded:

“Yep, I’m going.”

“Going where? The palace? How did you come to that conclusion?”

“If even someone I flung across the arena is enchanted by me, why wouldn’t the prince be? This time I’ll charm him for sure.”

“But he won’t even see you!”

“Conflicts must be tackled early. Otherwise, what should end in 10 episodes drags on for 100.”

“…What are you even talking about?”

Ignoring her flustered brother and the hundred roses, Abel stood up.

“Sana, watch the house. Your sister’s going to settle this once and for all.”

“Sister! Regicide is punishable by death!”

“I’m not ending his life!”

* * *

The rain, once so heavy you couldn’t see ahead, began to thin.

Having rushed out, she only carried a single umbrella.

Gripping it like a sword, Abel twisted her lips sourly.

“I need to talk to him, first of all.”

Her grip tightened on the handle.

Locking his door and not even breathing—what kind of prince was this?

What, is he the Snow Queen now? Just hiding in his room solves everything?

The absurdity of chasing someone hiding in their room made her want to laugh.

A dry sigh slipped from her lips.

“Tired.”

She had dropped everything and chased after him, and now he turned his back without a word.

So this is why they say never let your guard down.

The prince’s unpredictable behavior reignited her sense of caution.

There was no guarantee her time and effort would pay off.

“Let’s think once I reach the palace.”

It wasn’t far by carriage from the mansion to the palace.

Just a little longer…

“Passengers! Sorry! The wheels are stuck—we can’t go any further! Please get off!”

“Then when’s the next carriage coming?”

“Sorry! We can call a replacement, but with the weather, it’ll take three hours…”

“Three hours? You think we have nothing better to do?”

“Ugh…”

Abel left the protesting passengers and surveyed her surroundings.

By sheer coincidence, she was exactly halfway between the mansion and the palace.

Two options.

Go back home, or keep going to the palace.

Of course, Abel chose the latter.

“Aaaaack!”

Even if it meant rain slapping her cheeks diagonally.

“Ow! Why does the rain hurt!?”

Heavy drops pelted her soft skin.

Her sturdy umbrella was useless in the storm.

“You! Made! Me! Walk! In! This!”

Thankfully, the rain was loud enough to drown out her muttering.

Otherwise—well, she’d be lucky just to return alive.

SHHHHHHHHHHHH.

“GAAAAHHHH!”

The “light rain” was a lie.

But in the dictionary of Abel Delaphion, “retreat” did not exist.

Half-hearted resistance only made her more persistent.

“Let’s see who wins—me or you.”

CRACK!

The loser was neither nature nor Abel.

“Ah…”

Just her umbrella.

Cracked and bent, it was useless now.

“Unbelievable.”

Her small sigh was immediately washed away.

Still, Abel kept walking—soaked, but resolute, toward the palace.

Her dark eyes burned with determination:

She would do something before she left.

The palace annex on a rainy day was more than dark—it was downright eerie.

A vast, empty space with not a soul in sight.

A terrible atmosphere for a growing child.

“Your Highness!”

Just like a few days ago, Abel began climbing the stairs from the first floor.

She knew where the prince usually stayed, but opened every door anyway.

Unimaginably rude in royal or noble households.

But if Abel had cared about rules or decorum, she would never have met the prince in the first place.

“First Prince!”

Creak. Clack!

Creak. Clack!

“Your Highness!!”

Her rain-roughened voice echoed through the halls.

The annex was as silent as if no one existed at all.