VWTI 28

Chapter 28

“Please don’t fight because of me. Please. The lady only… she was only worried about me… and Raymond!”

What was she even saying?

Stella’s voice reached my ears and then my head, but I still couldn’t understand it.

That’s how absurd it was.

“No, just now you clearly said you weren’t worried—”

“Raymond knows better than anyone how kind Lady Martyr is. Because… you two have known each other for so long.”

“Stella…”

“It’s my fault. If I can’t even control my emotions like this, I’ll only be a burden to Raymond. I know that, and yet I still…”

Stella’s eyes became wet in an instant.

I was honestly surprised she could get emotional that fast.

Maybe that was part of Stella’s charm.

Crying easily, scaring easily, being easy to read—maybe that kind of thing seems cute to a lover.

‘I mean, I can’t relate, but seeing Raymond’s face right now… maybe she’s right.’

Just how many new sides of Raymond was I going to discover thanks to Stella?

Judging by his restless expression, he looked like a complete stranger.

Raymond, who had been biting his lip in indecision, finally said,

“…I’m going insane.”

His voice was so chilling that I shuddered without meaning to.

He was still gripping my wrist, so he immediately noticed and rolled his eyes.

After glancing back and forth between Stella and me, he clicked his tongue and yanked my wrist toward him.

“W–What are you doing?”

“Martyr, I have something to say to you.”

“I don’t. So let go and go back to Lady Aer.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Being dragged against my will was infuriating beyond words.

I tried to stop him, digging my feet into the ground, but that only made me look like I was being dragged even more pathetically.

He was squeezing so hard it felt like my wrist bones might twist. I couldn’t help but raise my voice.

“Stop it! That hurts!”

Only when I was practically screaming did Raymond finally halt.

But because he had been pulling so hard—

The sudden stop sent me stumbling straight into his chest.

“Ugh!”

Instinctively, I pushed hard against his shoulder.

No—tried to push.

For some reason, he didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he only held me tighter.

“Raymond Larson, let go. Now!”

“Can’t you behave for once? Learn from Stella. She accepts whatever decision I make without a fuss…”

“Oh, if that’s what you want, go back to Stella then!”

Half delirious with frustration, I kicked and wriggled wildly.

I thought if I caused enough chaos he’d click his tongue, dump me, and go back to Stella.

Apparently, I had severely underestimated Raymond.

He clicked his tongue and then—

“W–What are you doing!”

“Be still. If you fall, you’re the only one who’ll get hurt.”

“You crazy—!”

…He lifted me up.

In a princess carry. A princess carry!

The moment my feet left the ground, goosebumps exploded all over my body.

For the first time, I was grateful my dress had such a voluminous hem.

Otherwise, his arms would be touching places I’d never forgive.

I fought down the urge to fling myself off him.

The Kandré estate hallways were lined with flawless solid marble—one wrong angle and I might actually die.

My hands trembled with the effort of not punching him in his stupid face.

Raymond seemed to interpret my trembling somehow because he let out a faint chuckle.

“This is better. I like it.”

“Unbelievable.”

“If you would just keep that mouth shut, it would be perfect.”

I almost snapped back but closed my mouth.

Raymond seemed completely out of his mind—if I provoked him more, there was no telling what ridiculous thing he’d do next.

When I quieted down, the corners of his lips lifted.

‘My fist is crying. My fist is weeping.’

I had no idea where he was taking me, so I darted my eyes around.

If he dared take me toward a terrace, I was prepared to roll off and break a nose if I had to.

But the more familiar the hallways became, the more I hesitated.

Because…

“Why are we going back to the ballroom? Put me down!”

“Shh.”

“Shh my ass—put me—ugh…!”

The moment I tried to struggle free, his grip tightened around my thigh.

‘Does this bastard not know any method of persuasion besides brute force?’

I worried I might wake up tomorrow with a perfect handprint bruise.

He strode boldly back into the ballroom, carrying me that way.

Naturally, every single pair of eyes snapped toward us.

My cheeks burned so hot I covered my face with both hands.

I knew it probably looked even weirder, but if I didn’t hide, I’d collapse.

At least I wasn’t the only uncomfortable one.

The once-lively ballroom fell into a suffocating silence.

Lord Kandré and the Countess, the hosts, hurried over.

“Um… Lord Larson, Lady Martyr… what on earth happened for you to return like… this?”

Raymond answered shamelessly.

“My fiancée suddenly fell ill. We need to head home. But I thought we should at least greet you first, so I apologize for appearing in such an undignified state. I hope you can understand.”

I nearly cursed out loud and had to grit my teeth.

Fiancée, my ass. Since when did he think of me as his fiancée?!

Not once—not once in any ballroom, banquet, or tea party—had he ever called me that.

Only Yevgenia had clung to the title of fiancée and future husband like her life depended on it.

Yes, she caused me endless trouble, but thinking about how all of it stemmed from an impossible love… sometimes I did feel a little sorry for her.

Like now.

‘When she followed you around saying she adored you, you pushed her away like your life depended on it. But the moment she loses interest, now you pull this stunt?’

Is this what people mean when they say “don’t want it, but don’t want to let it go either”?

Disgusting.

I hid my face even more deeply.

But I could still feel the awkward, disapproving gaze of the Kandré couple.

Still, they responded politely as nobles do.

“I… I see. Then of course you should retire early. We hope Lady Martyr recovers quickly.”

Through the gap in my fingers, I saw Raymond give a polite nod.

I wished he’d run out of the ballroom as fast as possible, but instead he walked leisurely—almost proudly.

As if he wanted every single person there to see this spectacle.

After finally climbing into the carriage, and only when the stiff-faced servant closed the door did the seal over my mouth break.

“You’ve completely lost it! What is wrong with you?!”

“Yevgenia.”

“Ugh, why are you calling me by name? Just call me Martyr. I’ll call you Larson too.”

I scrubbed furiously at the arm he’d held.

But Raymond continued calmly, ignoring my reaction.

“I’m sorry for everything. Truly.”

“…Are you dying tomorrow?”

For a moment, my heart softened.

Raymond was garbage among garbage, a man who never treated the women around him as human—

‘…Wait. If he’s dying, is that fine then?’