Episode 87
Hildebrandt, feeling the effects of the potion almost immediately, was shocked. He hadn’t expected the healing elixir she brought to be of such high quality.
The potion had restored him to his healthiest state just by drinking it, meaning it must have been crafted by a top-tier mage.
He squeezed his eyes shut, startled, and asked her, “How did you get this?”
Pretending to be asleep was no longer an option with her.
“Father got it for me. It’s something the late Emperor gifted to him long ago.”
“…”
“I missed you, Hilde.”
“…”
“Your eyes… They’re as beautiful as the sky.”
She knew he wouldn’t respond, but the serene, sky-blue color of his eyes still made her heart race.
“If you’re done with what you came for, leave. Do you know how much of a nuisance you are? Who wants to live? Who wants to accept help from someone like you?”
“Hilde.”
“You’ve always been like this—either empty-headed or a fool. Even when I tell you I hate it, you keep coming back. Just leave. Disappear! Is it funny to you that I live like this because of you?”
“Hilde…”
“If… If only you had died back then…”
“Hilde.”
Hildebrandt began to utter words he didn’t mean. Now that his body was restored, Yvonne would be in danger once again. He’d fought so hard, enduring until he was on the verge of death, to keep her safe.
He was nervous and unsettled. Fear gripped him that someone would find out Yvonne had been here.
Surely, the Emperor’s interest in him would wane. Who would care about a prince locked away in the western tower?
But what about Yvonne, who risked herself for him, sneaking in disguised as a maid? Wouldn’t the Emperor find her… intriguing?
In a palace where everyone was too scared to defy the Emperor, she dared to come and see the outcast prince.
How could she not draw his gaze?
Just as she captivated mine.
“Go and die, Yvonne.”
“Hilde.”
“I wish you’d die and disappear from my sight.”
Even though his eyes were open, he couldn’t see clearly. His breath was shallow, and he avoided looking directly at her, his gaze fixed downward before he closed his eyes again.
“Hilde, I changed my hair color. You can look now.”
“…Just go away.”
Yvonne patiently stroked his cheek. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Your… hair…”
“Do you hate black?”
“….”
“I thought you didn’t like platinum hair, so I changed it…”
“I…”
His lips tightened before he finally spoke. She watched, waiting for his words.
“I hate black the most.”
“Why?”
“I just hate it. Seeing it on you makes me furious.”
In truth, he hadn’t always disliked black—at least not until a few months ago.
But now, he found it horrifying. Her platinum hair had once been drenched in blood, staining it black.
“And it doesn’t suit you.”
Yvonne only smiled at his words, which left him even more bewildered.
“Hilde.”
“….”
“You shouldn’t say things like that with that kind of expression.”
“What do you know?”
“I know well. I only look at you, Hilde.”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
“All my nonsense is the truth. You already know that.”
He pulled himself away from her and climbed out of bed. Yvonne picked a single hydrangea bloom from the vase on the table and tucked it behind his ear. Although he could have stopped her, he didn’t.
“You’re truly beautiful, Hilde.”
“Do you only care about my face?”
“No. I like your face too.”
Her bright smile as she said that made his heart race, leaving him breathless.
“Why do you like me? Don’t you find me pathetic?”
“Hilde tries to act cold, but I know you’re not really like that. I’ve known since the day we first met.”
“So, you fell for me at that ridiculous engagement ceremony?”
Hildebrandt forced a mocking smile as he looked at her. Yet, even as he sneered, Yvonne smiled back like sunshine and took his hand.
“Let go.”
“We didn’t meet for the first time at our engagement.”
She was disappointed when Hildebrandt pulled his hand away, yet she kept glancing at him, hoping to hold it again. Strangely enough, he thought that if she tried to hold his hand again, maybe he’d let her. But uncertain of his own feelings, he hid his hands behind him.
“I first saw you at the funeral.”
“….”
“The late Grand Duchess… That’s what I should call her now, right?”
Hildebrandt’s mother had passed away when she was Empress, and thus, she was buried in the royal tomb. Now, though, his father had abdicated the throne and become a duke.
Yvonne looked unsure—after all, she had been only around eleven years old back then.
“I saw you at her funeral.”
“….”
“At the time, you didn’t cry.”
“….”
“But you cried when everyone had left.”
Hildebrandt remembered it clearly. His mother had been poisoned by his own father.
As Empress, she had been the head of the noble faction, gradually expanding her influence, and with an heir, her power grew until she practically made the Emperor a puppet.
Hildebrandt had known their relationship was strained, but he hadn’t thought it would go so far.
No wonder his father resented him—Hildebrandt had the same sky-blue eyes as his mother.
“That’s when I knew my life would belong to you.”
“….”
“It all started then, for me.”
Hearing her words, he couldn’t say anything. His mind told him to tell her to leave like he had earlier, but his lips wouldn’t move.
“You…”
She looked into his eyes, recalling the image of him at the funeral. He had seemed so mature, holding back tears, but as soon as everyone left, he had clutched his chest and wept. To her, he had seemed almost sacred, like something out of scripture.
Since then, she had wanted to give him her life. She knew he pushed her away and ignored her, but Yvonne wasn’t a fool.
“I know how you look at me, Hilde. Your gaze is just like mine.”
“….”
“You like me, don’t you, Hilde?”
He couldn’t answer. But his silence spoke volumes to her.
Yvonne knew—love couldn’t be hidden. She had noticed the way his eyes mirrored her own reflection, both familiar and thrilling.
“If it would ease your heart, curse me all you want. If you need to, you can even hit me.”
“….”
“But I know, deep down, that you care for me, Hilde.”
Hildebrandt remained frozen, so Yvonne moved first, wrapping her arms around him. Though he thought he should push her away, he didn’t.
And then, with her soft breath against him, he found himself, almost instinctively, wrapping his arms around her.
Yvonne’s warmth against his chest felt as if it were raising the temperature of his very heart.
* * *
From then on, Yvonne came daily to check on him.
“How on earth do you keep getting in here?”
“Isn’t it obvious from the outfit?”
“….”
“My father’s the Minister of Foreign Affairs. I say I’m bringing clothes for him.”
“What about the maid who’s supposed to come here?”
“Turns out, she has a liking for money.”
Hildebrandt found himself chuckling despite himself as she held up her finger to emphasize her point.
“Wow….”
“What now?”
“You’re beautiful. Do it again.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Yes. Laugh again.”
Her silly response made him chuckle once more, and she looked on in a daze, completely captivated by his smile. Whenever their eyes met, her face would flush bright red.
“Aren’t people supposed to get embarrassed when they’re in love? Or maybe you really are just a fool?”
“Love makes people foolish.”
“….”
“Hilde, you just said something that came right back at you.”
“Be quiet.”
Though he didn’t truly find her annoying, his words came out sharp. She brought him all sorts of books—sometimes volumes the Duke of Ferrite had requested and other times trivial novels.
“This book—you chose it, didn’t you?”
“Uh… how’d you know?”
“Do you really think my father would send something like. ‘The Prince in the Tower and the Lady Knight.?”
“Hehe. Hilde, maybe I should become a knight.”
“You’d give up after a week and come back with a hand full of blisters to brag about.”
“Why?”
“What could you do with those hands? The second you grip a sword, your skin would tear and blister.”
“So, do you hate people with rough hands?”
Seeing her innocent face as she asked, he thought to himself that he didn’t hate it. But he told her he did, hoping it would deter her. The idea of Yvonne wielding a sword was something he dreaded. She, too, was a high-ranking noble; eventually, she would awaken to her abilities.
And if she associated too closely with the knights, the Emperor would find it all too easy to engineer an “accident” and have her killed.
“Yes, I’d hate it.”
“Then I won’t.”
Her quick reply left him feeling unexpectedly relieved.
Neither of them realized that their encounters were part of Emperor Hildegarde’s scheme.