Chapter 42
The space between Clyde’s arms narrowed.
His large hand covered her entire back.
The strength with which he pulled her close, tucking his forearm right up under her armpit, reminded Edith of an iron wheel. His fingers wrapped around her, reaching under her opposite armpit.
It was hot—Clyde’s hand and his anger.
Edith felt like she was being thrown onto a field of rocks as she collided with him. Clyde’s strong pull swept her along helplessly. Her forehead bumped against his firm jaw, and her chest hit his solid, muscular chest.
“Hah…”
Her hands flailed in the air, unsure where to go. She was at a loss, her hands finding no place to rest.
There was only one place for her hands to go. She could easily wrap her arms around him, as he did with her. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Wrapping her arms around him would be a physical expression of acceptance. She couldn’t promise him anything, so how could she welcome him with open arms? Even if her hands, as if devoid of soul, instinctively moved to embrace him, she had to resist. She couldn’t make a gesture she couldn’t commit to.
Her flailing arms and the way her upper body clung to his strong chest seemed to betray her conflicted feelings.
His voice, pressed down and released, was rough.
“You think I’m a fool, don’t you?”
His sudden use of harsh language startled her.
“What? What are you saying?”
“How could you leave with a man you’re in marriage talks with, right in front of me?”
His passionate outburst overlapped with her words. It was a burning, desperate cry. With her forehead resting on his shoulder, she couldn’t see the expression on his face as he released his emotions.
When she left the palace, leaving Clyde behind, she sensed a tense atmosphere. But he had thoroughly played his role with Adrian. There was no reason for a knight to linger by the crown prince, enjoying a cozy time with his lover.
Edith had her reasons for leaving. She had meticulously prepared to investigate Peyton’s intentions before leaving the palace.
But she hadn’t imagined what Clyde’s mood might have been in the meantime.
And she couldn’t just say she had business with Peyton. If she had developed feelings for him during their time together, they would have discussed the marriage talks in more detail.
His clipped words echoed beyond the carriage. He shouted passionately, as if he had lost his mind.
“I’ve made it so obvious! That I have feelings for you!”
Edith froze completely.
He had finally said what had been on the tip of his tongue, unable to express it. The words that had been choking him like a thorn were now pouring out like blood. In a rough voice, he sighed.
His official status, duties, and the crown prince—all those things had kept him from revealing his true feelings. They had settled like sediment and been buried under a mountain of stones.
As he began to win her over, his resolve to slowly reveal his feelings crumbled.
“I’ve shown you how I feel…”
The hot breath on the back of her neck paralyzed her.
In the moment he let out his pent-up feelings, Clyde realized how arrogant he had been. Trying to keep Edith in his life as a knight was an impossible endeavor from the start.
He had grown closer to her too slowly, compared to the rapidly growing feelings in his heart.
It was a stark contrast in speed.
His heart felt like it was being pierced by a sword, blood gushing out like a fountain. He panted painfully, like a wounded beast.
He let out a low, rumbling growl, like a wounded animal.
“Edith…”
He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. His voice, which had been fierce, suddenly softened, sending chills down her spine. The long, drawn-out breath at the end of his words felt eerily cold.
“Don’t lie and say you don’t know. I can see clearly that you’re avoiding me.”
Edith struggled to find words to reply.
While he poured out his feelings, she couldn’t counter with even a single word. Everything he said was true.
In the events of the novel world, which she couldn’t feel responsible for, with characters like Duke Clyde and Prince Adrian who were hard to see as real people, Edith had prioritized her own safety.
But Clyde was shouting that he was a man who had feelings for her. That he was alive and loved her.
“….”
She opened her mouth slightly, then closed it again. She didn’t know where to start.
Even saying she needed time to think felt like a flimsy excuse. Telling him to calm down and discuss it later would be deceiving him.
The whites of Clyde’s eyes, filled with blood vessels, looked frightening.
“If you can’t possibly accept me, then just reject me.”
Despite the situation, his actions were still gentle. His fingertips lightly brushed her chin.
The tender touch, carrying despair, was almost painful.
“Clyde…”
His thumb pressed gently on her lower lip before flicking it away. Edith’s gaze dropped to his hand.
He lowered his head, his platinum lashes casting shadows over his eyes.
His breath, denied a kiss, lightly ruffled her lashes.
“Rejecting you…”
His sigh, as he spoke the words, was more heartrending than any bucket of spilled blood.
“Please, just… a little later.”
Clyde anticipated the heartbreak. He cursed himself for moving ahead alone in front of Edith, who didn’t seem to have feelings for him. His lips, clenched tightly, easily split.
Facing her reddened eyes, which seemed to shed bloody tears, she was busy hesitating. She couldn’t even muster a single excuse. It was punishment for the time she’d spent only thinking about escape. The days of immaturely ignoring reality had come back like a debt collector.
She felt constantly pathetic for not being able to make up her mind. She had always been lacking. She felt sorry for Clyde, who was confessing to someone like her.
As he carefully withdrew his fingers, it felt as if he was too good for her.
“Because I can’t let go of you just yet.”
Her heart ached abnormally. Saying he couldn’t let go just yet meant he would eventually let go.
“If you leave me now, I might completely lose it. If you want to see me clinging on pathetically, feel free to try.”
Even though she hadn’t decided whether to hold on to Clyde, she felt sad. Her heart, clueless and without realizing any emotions, started to hurt strangely fast.
Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the wall of the coachman’s seat.
The carriage slowed down abruptly. Why was he doing this? Before she could even grasp his intentions, the warmth that had entangled her like a net disappeared. Clyde leapt out of the carriage before it even came to a complete stop.
She watched in a daze as the door closed.
She couldn’t see his disappearing figure.
* * *
For the first time since falling into the novel, she cried.
This world had never shaken her enough to the point of tears.
She had always taken a step back from this world. She didn’t see the people she met as real humans, and even she herself was just a minor character. She thought that one day, just as suddenly as it started, she would return to her place, and all this would end as if turning off a phone app.
That was until Clyde cried out desperately.
‘What should I do?’
She felt pathetic for asking herself that only now.
He didn’t return to the Crown Prince’s bedroom. The attendant waited alone in the ownerless room and then turned off the lights. The auxiliary bed used by Clyde was empty, and Edith lay on the prince’s bed.
She spent the evening in a state of restless sleep, curled up like a snail.
A lot had happened that day, and she was tired.
Fatigued.
‘What should I say when I see Clyde tomorrow?’
She couldn’t sleep; her thoughts were numerous.
Lost in confusion, she eventually closed her eyes.
The night was dark. She didn’t notice the person approaching her, keeping quiet. Even while she continued to ponder in her sleep, she didn’t open her eyes.
The bed curtain was silently drawn back. The figure that had stood still for a long time climbed carefully onto the edge, cautious not to wake her.
Knowing Edith better than anyone, Clyde could perfectly judge the time when he wouldn’t run into her. He knew well that she would toss and turn early in the night, but once asleep, she wouldn’t notice even if someone carried her away.
Relying on touch, he found her.
Edith, who often slept lightly, usually had her hands resting near her pillow.
He lay down nearby, maintaining a careful distance. Even with the slight shake of the mattress, her steady breathing continued.
Gently, he brought his face to her fingertips.
After confirming that her hand didn’t move, he sniffed her fingers. The scent of her perfume had mostly faded, leaving a faint trace of her natural scent. Just the hint of her scent made him smile blissfully.
Even if he was hopelessly pathetic, he couldn’t help it.
He missed her so much that he couldn’t stand it.
‘I’m crazy. What do I mean by sorting things out?’
When he left the palace to chase after Edith, he was nearly out of his mind. He couldn’t stop worrying about the possibility of her concluding marriage talks at Peyton’s house.
Because of that, he ended up rambling nonsensically in Edith’s carriage.
‘That nonsense doesn’t even make sense. How could I send Edith away?’
Edith didn’t seem to understand that the idea was absurd.
‘Even if she rejects me, does she think I’ll just give up? I’ll never give up.’
They say that overly obsessed men can be charged with some kind of crime, and at this point, he wondered if he had a criminal streak. But this was the result of controlling and restraining himself. What more was he supposed to do?
Even if the time wasn’t right, should he just send a marriage proposal to the Ketsemorice family? He thought about it countless times a day.
Edith wouldn’t be able to refuse the position of Crown Princess. The emperor’s command was practically law.
Every time, the desire to put her by his side and try to make things work would arise. They say love can grow between a married couple, and he wondered if, by spending nights together and making an heir, her heart would eventually follow.
‘Ha, I really want to do that.’
If Edith would just give him a little space. If she would just stop planning to run away, he would present the marriage proposal.
Her scent, always captivating, still drove him crazy. It made him anxiously press his nose against her.
Her small nails touched the bridge of his nose. The hard, smooth texture felt thrillingly good. Clyde moved his face like a ghost. Two nails passed over his nose and tapped on his philtrum.
He held his breath, fearing that even a slight breeze might wake her.
His mouth opened like a cavern.
