🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 13
With a dull thud, the heavy protective gear hit the floor.
Cyril stared at it for a moment, then bent down to pick it up.
He already knew fencing gear was heavy.
He’d worn it countless times.
But today, he became aware of that familiar heaviness in a different way.
She was wearing this? Really?
His gaze flicked between Adrien’s slender frame and the bulky armor.
No matter how he looked at it, those thin arms and legs didn’t seem suited to such gear.
Of course, the armor had been custom-made for her proportions.
It was a pointless worry—but Cyril was serious.
His sharp eyes swept over the gear again.
While Cyril’s mind wandered down that unnecessary path, Adrien was pushing back her sweat-dampened hair with careless swipes.
When she finally finished taming her hair and turned her head, she spotted Cyril holding her armor.
The moment their eyes met, her face bloomed into a bright smile.
“Oh, when did you pick that up? Thanks.”
“It’s fine. I’ll just carry it.”
Cyril looked away without meaning to, speaking curtly as he started walking.
He didn’t need to see her face to know the expression she was making.
She was definitely staring in utter confusion.
Maybe she thought it was weird he was doing something he normally wouldn’t.
Or maybe she worried he’d eaten something bad.
His meals were perfectly normal.
He was the weird one.
Even he felt strange these days.
“…!”
“Why are you so startled?”
Cyril halted mid-stride.
Adrien had somehow run past him and blocked his path.
He hadn’t heard her footsteps—surprising enough.
Then he found her face right in front of his—twice as surprising.
He was so startled he held his breath without realizing it, prompting Adrien to lean even closer.
Her eyelashes, sharp and neat as if painted with a brush, fluttered downward as she blinked.
For a second, Cyril felt as if he were looking not at a person but at a living illustration.
Ridiculous.
He quickly crushed the thought.
“…You jumped in front of me, that’s why. Stop doing weird things and move your face.”
He lowered his gaze sharply and hurried past her.
For some reason, he felt that if he kept looking at Adrien, something bad would happen.
“Cyril, Cyril.”
“I can hear you the first time.”
Her lark-like voice was unreasonably pleasant to his ears—annoyingly so.
Every time she said his name, he felt something stack up inside him.
She should’ve been annoyed by his chilly tone, yet Adrien only grinned like a fool.
Cyril barely managed to keep his gaze from being pulled back to her.
“Did you do something wrong to me?”
“What wrong would I ever do to you?”
“Then why are you being so nice?”
Her eyes looking up at him were innocently curious, utterly unaware.
He didn’t think he’d been particularly nice—
but he wasn’t confident.
Yes.
He wasn’t confident.
Cyril had finally found the perfect phrase to describe his recent state:
He had no confidence—to face Adrien, to face his inexplicable feelings, to do anything properly.
“It’s not like I was ever that awful.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I’m going first.”
Lacking confidence meant he ran away more often.
His conscience hissed at him for being a coward, but he had no choice.
Once again, Cyril put distance between them.
“You’re asking if I like princes?”
Adrien echoed the question, startled.
Cyril nodded without looking away from the assignment Lady Parthé had given him.
“Well, yeah, I like them. Why?”
“No reason. You used to like them when you were younger.”
Her easy answer made Cyril respond casually, as though it were nothing.
“I wondered if you still do.”
His voice remained light, meaningless—just idle conversation.
“I do. The first book I ever read had a prince as the main character. Brilliant golden hair, sky-colored eyes… He was cool.”
“His hair? Or his eyes?”
“Both. I mean, his looks were good, but his personality was even better. Cyril, think about it—princes in fairy tales are always kind.”
Excited, Adrien closed the book she’d barely read half of.
“I want to marry someone like that.”
Cyril, whose gaze had been drawn to her bright eyes, froze at her last statement.
She used to not even know what marriage was.
Now she wanted to marry “a man like that.”
He should’ve scoffed like always—
but his jaw wouldn’t unclench.
Adrien wanting to marry someone—
that thought hit Cyril harder than expected.
After a long stiffness, he finally spoke.
“…Blond hair, blue eyes… And since the Empire has no princes, you mean an imperial prince, right? You really like that type?”
“And someone who smiles easily and is kind. That’d be even better.”
What a picky list.
Cyril, inwardly sour, began comparing himself point by point.
First—hair.
He was out immediately.
His hair didn’t shine gold; it was black as if it swallowed all light.
Second—eyes.
Also out.
Though people constantly praised his bright amber eyes, they were still yellow, not blue.
Status wouldn’t be an issue—he’d be a duke someday.
The biggest obstacle was his personality.
Kind and smiles easily…
That was the perfect recipe for being taken advantage of.
Even in a second life, he’d never choose that sort of personality.
The person who fit her ideal most was Reed de Cassinel Blois.
And Cyril had zero desire to become anything like Reed.
As he matched her conditions one by one, he realized:
Adrien’s ideal type was nothing like him—
completely the opposite.
That trivial fact somehow stung.
“What kind of woman do you like, Cyril?”
“…Calm. Elegant. Small and cute would be nice.”
Cyril deliberately named the kind of woman farthest from Adrien.
He didn’t care about ideal types—
he just wanted to be petty.
“Are you confessing to me right now?”
“Are you insane?”
He snapped without meaning to, and his irritability made Adrien’s expression darken.
“Why are you so serious about it?”
“Because you’re talking nonsense.”
“It was a joke. Did you think I was serious?”
“No, thank goodness. I appreciate that.”
His stubborn refusal to lose to her put words in his mouth he didn’t even mean.
Adrien, stung, snapped back—
and things escalated fast.
This wasn’t how he’d meant it to go.
Cyril bit his lower lip.
After speaking so snappishly, regret hit him too late.
“Don’t thank me. I should thank you. Now I don’t have to marry someone who sulks and refuses to talk whenever she’s upset!”
Ha.
Cyril let out a cold laugh.
Any thought of apologizing evaporated instantly.
“Sulks? Waits for someone to talk first? And who was it coming to my room every day begging me to play?”
“That’s because you were sick and wouldn’t leave your bed!”
“What does my being sick have to do with you? You stuck your nose in for no reason and now you complain?”
“What? Stuck my nose in?!”
Once the fight ignited, it refused to die.
The topic had long since drifted away from marriage.
They dragged out every petty grievance from childhood—
who did what at what age, who annoyed whom.
None of it really mattered, but after seven years together, there were endless tiny grievances to weaponize.
“Every time you’re like this, I really can’t stand you, Cyril. You’re seriously insufferable.”
“My line. I can’t stand loud, reckless people.”
Pant, pant.
When the weaponless war reached its end, the room was filled with ragged breathing.
Adrien glared at him with tightly clenched fists.
What.
Cyril mouthed the word, and her glare sharpened even further.
“Fine! Marry some calm, cute girl then! Make sure you do! Definitely!”
“That’s the plan. I’d never marry you even if I died, so don’t even dream of it, Adrien.”
With those final childish lines, the war ended.
As she turned around, Adrien didn’t look fragile at all.
I must be out of my mind. What about her is pretty? A ghost must’ve possessed me.
Cyril ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
Let’s see if she really ends up marrying a prince—no, a crown prince. If she doesn’t, I’ll tease her to death.
…But what if she really does?
His hand froze.
If Adrien actually achieved that goal?
Despite her behavior, Cassinel was a great noble house.
As far as status went, she could indeed be considered for crown princess.
Even the hypothetical made his head hurt.
No, no way. Impossible. The prince has eyes. …Actually, maybe it’d be better if he didn’t.
A blind prince would drastically lower the chances of Adrien becoming crown princess.
Because damnably, Adrien’s outside was perfectly fine.
The thought hit Cyril with sudden defeat.
He threw himself onto the bed in despair.
Just another pointless disaster of a midsummer day.
